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Aric
Weber
Rowan the Shining: The Knight Who Liked Tea |
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Once upon a time, when beasts were larger and lives were shorter, chivalry ran wild and happily through all the land. Knights and maidens and dragons and wizards all walked the roads of all the villages. This was the time that stories were made of.
This particular story is about one knight. Rowan the Shining (not to be confused with a certain extrasensory power or a certain novel in which this power is named thus). He was named ‘the Shining’ because he had the brightest, strongest, and most becoming suit of armor in the land. Most times his foes would be so blinded by his armor that they were taken without a fight. Many people wondered if Rowan actually could fight. He could fight; he just couldn't fight with his armor on.
One day, while in court, Rowan was sitting and dreaming of battle when a young page ran to him and said, “Sir Rowan, urgent message for you sir,” and he tried to hand him the envelope.
“You read it boy,'' he said. The greatest secret of Rowan's life was that he wasn't able to read.
“Yes sir (ahem). ‘The Castle Bruntworth and its Princess Claria are in dire need of help in disposing of a dragon—’”
“Pish-posh boy. Throw it away. I'm tired of fighting with beasts that fall blind at my very presence. My blood calls for sport.''
“Very good sir, but if I may read on: 'who has laid waste to all farms leading toward our castle. Thankfully, the dragon is blind so his trail is quite winding and he is taking a while to get to the cast—’”
“A blind dragon! Boy, ready my horse for battle.”
“Yes sir,'' and the page hurried off.
“Finally, a worthy foe. I must see the old wizard Lentil,” and he rushed off to find him. Lentil lived near a chapel on the way out of town, and if Rowan would have been thinking, he would have gotten ready first. But in any case he arrived at the old man's home and rushed in.”
“Damn! I’ll never get it right,” Lentil was standing over a teapot, sipping from a cup.
“Great wizard, I need your knowledge of magical things to aid my quest against a blind dragon!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, friend. Sit down. Take a load off, share some tea with me.”
“Alright,” that sounded like a good idea to Rowan at the time. He liked tea.
“Now, what seems to be the problem,” he said as he filled their cups. “Got a blind dragon on your hands, have you?”
“Yes, and he's plaguing the land of Castle Bruntworth.”
“Tsk, blind dragons. Those are the angriest kind. They're quite mad.”
“What should I do?”
“Well first you'll have to find Percy the Apothecary and ask him for a tincture of firefly light. It will calm the dragon to the point of sleeping and Percy is the only man who can get it.”
“Where is this Percy?”
“The road is long and hard, and filled with danger,” Lentil began.
“What kind of danger?”
“He lives in the Forest of Mirrors where your every fault is shown to you with no sugar coating. It's like spending a week with your mother.”
“I can't read,” Rowan blurted out.
“I'm sorry,” Lentil sat, confused for a moment and then began again, “and then-”
“I was just getting ready for the Mirrors.”
“Oh, I see,” Lentil continued, “but to get to the Forest, you must walk the Path of Pride.”
“What happens there?” Rowan wondered.
“Well, it's the opposite of the Forest of Mirrors. For the full length of the path, all your good qualities are made light of.”
“That's not so bad.”
“It doesn't sound bad, but after two miles it gets really annoying.”
“How long is this Path of Pride?'' Rowan asked.
“Six miles,” Lentil answered.
“Oh,” Rowan ohed. “How can he live in this ‘Forest of Mirrors’?”
“Well he lives in the center, where there's actually a charming little grotto that doesn't have so many mirrors.”
“Oh.” And they talked through two more cups of tea. It was nearly dark when Rowan finally got up.
“Thank you, Lentil. With your aid I can hopefully defeat this horrible beast.”
“Godspeed, Knight!”
And Rowan left for home to prepare for his journey.
When he got there it was nighttime, so he decided he would go to bed. In the morning, he would wake up early and get a fresh start. During the night he had a scary dream and couldn't sleep well, so he over-compensated and the fresh start turned into a late-start.
When he got up at noon, he shaved, had breakfast, went for a walk, and prepared for battle. He spent a lot of time trying to find the page so he could command him to ready his steed, but after awhile he remembered that he had asked the page to do that yesterday so his horse was probably still ready. And indeed it was. He mounted and rode off toward his dragon.
There were many roadside stands on the trail he took, and when he would ride near, everyone standing by would kneel. He took this as gratefulness when in reality they were all just shielding their eyes from the glare.
He had ridden one day and slept one night when he came across a man who did not bow.
“You there, why do you not bow like your brothers of the road?”
The man knelt with great effort, “I'm sorry Master, I didn't know there was someone comin' along that was worth bowin' for. I'm blind you see-”
“Say that again.”
“I know me grammar ain't the proper King's English, but please don't make me dissect it,” the man had never been much of a student.
“No, no, the part where you said ‘Master’.”
“Master?”
“Yes, again!”
“Master”
“Once again.
“Master.”
“I like the way you think, and your decrepit gait makes me feel stronger in comparison. You may accompany me on my quest. Onward!” Rowan said as he lifted his sword in the air and reared his horse.
“Many thanks, Master but me wife is waiting for m—”
“To the Path of Pride, Old Blind One!”
“Okay, fine Master, but ye'll have to point me in the right direction, as I'm blind.”
“Oh right,” and Rowan turned back to point him in the right direction. They traveled awhile until Old Blind One said:
“Did ye say before that ye was headed for the Path of Pride?”
“Yes,” said Rowan.
“Why would a man want to go to such an awful place?” Old Blind One asked.
“I seek Percy the Apothecary. Only he can give me the tincture of firefly light that I need to defeat a great dragon that is pestering the lands of Castle Bruntworth.”
“Oh, well, I have one of those.”
“What?” Rowan stopped riding and turned to Old Blind One.
“Yeah, I got it right here. I don't even know why I bought it to tell ye the truth. I never use it,” and Old Blind One pulled the tincture from his sack. “Would ye like it, Master?”
“Would I?” and Rowan snatched the vile from Old Blind One's hand. “Old Blind One, you just saved me two days worth of my journey.”
“Don't mention it,” Old Blind One stared at his feet as he worked up the courage to ask, “and if it's not too much trouble sir, I'd like to go home to my wife.”
“Old Blind One, you've more than earned your freedom from my ridicule.”
“Thank ye, sir. Thank ye” and he laboredly turned around toward his home (he hoped).
With a newfound enthusiasm, Rowan headed off towards Castle Bruntworth. He made remarkable time and got there the next day. To his relief, the dragon's terror hadn't yet reached the castle itself. He rushed through the castle gates and on to the audience chamber where he would inform the king and his princess of his plan to best the dragon. When he got there, the court was in its usual calm way (aside from everyone shielding his or her eyes from his armor's sheen). Odd behavior when a dragon is breathing down your neck.
“Rowan,” said the king. “Please remove your armor in our presence.”
“Your majesty, I'd much rather it if you'd point at the dragon’s fury that I might save your kingdom and daughter with this tincture of firefly light.”
“Take a breath, Rowan. Your services are no longer needed to us.”
“What, Your Majesty?”
“It seems that the blind dragon, in his rage, stumbled into Dead Blind Dragon Canyon like the last one.”
“Oh,” Rowan ohed again.
“As long as you're here, and as long as you take off that dreadful armor, we would like to invite you to tea.”
“Alright, Your Majesty,” that sounded like a good idea to Rowan at the time. He liked tea.