|
Current Articles:
THE Fractured
Personality Test
Council Orders
Summer
Reads
A Dragon's
Tail
Regular Columns:
Cliff Diving
Boxer Spotting
The Flaming
Critic
|
|
If you haven't read the first two
sections of our ongoing Cliched characters saga, take a few minutes to
catch up with the adventures of our heroes:
Part One: The
Quest
Part Two:
Call to Council
Revenge of the Cliched Characters
Part Three
Council Orders:
"Bring the Naysayers forward to hear the Council's decision!" the wizard's
voice reverberated throughout the clearing. His long robes hung loose
about him, nearly consuming him in the many layers of multicolored silk.
Shar-rhea-a stepped from the shadow of the surrounding trees, Gritchy the
dwarf at her side. She folded her slender hands atop the end of her bow
and nodded toward the center of the clearing.
"Get moving," Gritchy growled, prodding the small group of authors forward
with the pointy end of his battleaxe. "And good riddance to you, too."
The wizard lifted a small book off the table and wagged it under the nose
of one of the author's standing, pale and silent, before him. "This is
blasphemous! What are you trying to do, erase us?" The wizard dropped the
book to the ground at his feet, the tip of his long beard concealing the
title. Pointing his bony finger at the cover, he released his wizard's
fire. The book disappeared in a burst of blue flame along with the lower
half of his beard.
"Oh, umpf, dang nambit!" The wizard slapped his hands against his smoking
whiskers.
Shar-rhea-a barely contained the smile that threatened at the edge of her
lips. She nodded to Cahil as he approached.
Cahil tipped his chin toward the council circle and rolled his eyes
skyward. "Wizards! Far too much power, seldom any common sense. The
Wizard's Union should retire him. One day, that old goat will burn down
the Enchanted Grove and all of us with it."
Shar-rhea-a shrugged. "He's popular at the wizard's school. The students
like him."
Gritchy laughed. "Only because he can no longer see what they do, not even
with his good eye." The dwarf propped his axe at his side and leaned upon
the handle.
"Hey, watch it!" BOB fluttered his wings and kicked at the dwarf's thick
boot. "Can't you see I'm standing here?"
Shar-rhea-a raised a slender brow at the pixie. "New pet, Cahil?"
Before Cahil could answer, a unicorn from the Misty Valley stepped past
the wizard to the center of the circle and pointed its silver horn at the
Naysayers. "For these shameful words scribed upon the pages of your books,
and for others you have dared to mouth, the Council has decided your fate
rests in your folly."
The wizard crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his one good eye
at the authors. "I say we burn their fingers so they cannot write what
their tongues wag. Clichéd, indeed!"
The unicorn shook her silky mane sending white dust sparkling into the
ebbing light. "Nay, wizard, they soon shall learn how desperately they
need our kind when they are left to the whims of the magical forest. For
those they have named trite are the only creatures who can save them." The
unicorn searched the edge of the circle with its golden gaze. "Ah, Cahil.
You will do. Come forth."
"Me?"
"Aye, I charge you to take these Naysayers to the Dark Wood. Leave them
within." The unicorn turned her back to the authors and flicked her tail.
"At least, until they have seen the error of their ways."
The wizard tucked a stray wisp of white hair under the brim of his tall,
pointy hat as he announced to all assembled, "With you, Cahil, we shall
send our learned scribe, the Singing Sword, so that he may preserve in
song what transpires." The wizard drove the point of the bejeweled sword
into the ground near Cahil's feet. "Who else you take is of your choosing.
Name them, so we may be about this unpleasantness."
The elf picked up the sword and examined it closely. He'd never understood
how the thing sang without a mouth, but it began to hum and he held it
close to his ear.
"Choose Shar-rhea-a," the sword hummed. "She's hot, hot, hotty hot."
Cahil snickered and stuck the sword point first into the soft forest loam.
He ignored it's muttered comment about incompetent oafs who insisted on
rusting its blade in the moist soil. "Shar-rhea-a, Gritchy, you're with
me. And you, too." He pointed to a rock troll leaning against a tree near
the back of the circle.
"And me?" BOB tugged on Cahil's pant leg.
Cahil frowned, then shrugged. "Why not. And you."
"Gritchy, BOB, herd these so-called authors toward Shadow Road. Troll,
follow me. Shar-rhea-a, dear," he called over his shoulder as he left the
enchanted grove, "don't forget the sword."
"Maiden, you are a sweet vision of loveliness," the sword sang as
Shar-rhea-a retrieved the blade. "My heart soars at your touch. I shall
write a sonnet to your beauty, I shall!"
Shar-rhea-a shoved the sword into its leather scabbard. She smiled at the
sword's muffled protests as she sprinted ahead to catch up to the others.
"Not now, Sing."
The story continues in
PART FOUR!
|
