Tales of the Lone Warrior - My story

[Sperrit]

Hey Everyone,

Three years ago I wrote a story for one of my friends, and in that story there was a character that I called The Lone Warrior. As soon as I had created this character I knew that he was very important. I wrote several more stories about The Lone Warrior and his travels, about five in all, and each one was writen for a friend. I gave each of them the only copy, so those first stories are lost to me. However, about a year ago I decided to sit down and write a story based on the theories and containing the themes of Joseph Campbell and the traditional Hero Myth. For my hero I chose The Lone Warrior. These are his stories, and, through him, they are my stories as well. Whether I like it or not these stories have a lot to do with me personally, and I felt that now was a good time to share them. Please tell me what you think of them.

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[Sperrit]

Tales of the Lone Warrior
By Sean Payne


Beginnings

So it was that the Lone Warrior came into the world. He was tall and proud and full of life and vigor. He came from a small village at the Edge of the World and soon he came to wonder at what lay outside it’s simple gates. He would often look out on the Plains of Adventure and he often looked at the Edge of the World. One day a Lone Wanderer came to the gates of the Edge of the World. He gave the Lone Warrior a small sword and bid him come with him to explore the World.

The Lone Wanderer and the Lone Warrior went off upon the Plains of Adventure and traveled many miles together on the Road of Beginnings, which is always strait and fair and simple. Not too much later however they came upon a branching of the road. Both being extremely curious about the World they wanted to go both ways at once. They decided to part for a time and that they would meet back at the fork later. Both had heavy hearts as they parted but they were hopeful of their reunion.

The Lone Warrior found that a small ways further that his path took him to a small village. It was called the Village of Deception, though it was much later that he found this out. There he found many smiling faces and kind people who also had interesting pasts. The Lone Warrior decided to stay at the village for a while and while he was there he made many companions and they often ventured out into the World.

Soon it was time for the Lone Warrior and the Lone Wanderer to meet again. The Lone Warrior took off down the path again and found the Lone Wanderer waiting for him. They both spoke of the things they had seen and the people that they had met and the things they had done. They left the path and explored the World together. Soon, however they were anxious to get back to the things that they had found on their journeys and parted ways once more and vowed to meet again.

So the Lone Warrior went back to the Village of Deception and lived there yet again, always exploring farther and farther afield in the World. He felt at peace.

Soon it was time for the meeting of the Lone Wanderer and the Lone Warrior, and once again the Warrior went down the path and found the Wanderer waiting for him. This time the Wanderer took the Warrior back with him so that he could share the discoveries he had made of the World. The Warrior was fascinated by the difference from one path to another. The World that he had discovered was much different than the one that the Lone Wanderer had discovered. But again the Lone Warrior found himself anxious to be back among his own discoveries and so he and the Lone Wanderer parted but vowed to meet again.

Now when the Lone Warrior went back to the Village of Deception he found that an expedition was setting out to explore the Wood of Mist. His curiosity was aroused once again. He left that day. On that same day, when he removed his sword from it’s sheath he found it heavier and longer. Always would that sword hold the memory of the Lone Wanderer of whom he never saw again.

Choices

Within the Wood of Mists the Lone Warrior soon became lost. Every path seemed to bend this way and that and all was covered with the eternal mist that shrouded the forest. He no longer had any clear idea of where he was or where he was going. All life was reduced to walking the paths without any sort of motivation or any sort of reason. All was meaningless, all was lost.

Time did not exist in the Wood of Mist, at least not in any tangible form. So it was that after an indiscernible length of time he came upon a man in the woods in the middle of a huge crossroads. He was known as The Guide and had led many men out of the Woods. He and The Lone Warrior exchanged greetings.

“I seem to be lost,” the Warrior said. “I wish to find a way out of this wood.”

The Guide chuckled. “I can lead you out of the Wood,” he said. “But you may want to reconsider your request. Do you really want to leave these woods? They are very safe to live in. You would not be unhappy here.”

The Lone Warrior shook his head. “I do not wish to not be unhappy, I wish to experience the world. I came here to find what this part of the world offered, and obviously there is no substance in it. I wish for more.”

The Guide smiled. “You must choose your own way,” he said. “That is why you are lost. Choose a path and you will find your way out.”

The Warrior thought long on his decision. Eventually he picked up his sword and started off down one of the paths. His sword, however, felt rather heavy. Looking down at it the Lone Warrior found that it had grown into a full blade and that upon the hilt there was sculpted a red rose, a rose more lifelike than had ever graced a canvas. The Guide Chuckled.

“You have chosen as your heart reflects. But know this: One path can breed many choices. The journey is what choices you make, not what destination you seek.”

The Lone Warrior turned and left the Woods of Mist and not a few miles later the Mist lifted and he was out of the wood.

Shadows

When the Lone Warrior had left the Wood he found that the World around him had changed drastically. Nothing looked familiar, everything looked alien, yet everything also held a sort of memory of the way things were, so that it was and was not his World.

He drew his sword and looked again upon the Rose blade. It seemed heavier than ever and he struggled to carry it.

Soon the Lone Warrior was off upon the path that he had chosen as it still wound out and away from the wood. It was then that he came upon a man swathed all in black and waiting by the roadside. He looked up as the Warrior approached. The man was known as The Shadow and his face was hidden. They exchanged greetings.

“Where does this path go?” the Lone Warrior asked.

“To the future,” The Shadow replied. “All paths lead to the future and none to the past. By going through the Wood of Mist you have come the short way around to the future, for few realize what the mists can do and many are afraid of passing through them. You will never get to the past.”

The Lone Warrior nodded his head. “I shall find the past again,” he said. “For past and future are all bound up in the eternal present, the balance of time. I shall find the past again. I shall find the Lone Wanderer and the Edge of the World.”

The Shadow shook his head sadly. He reached down and took out his sword. On the hilt there was an image of a black rose. He showed this to the Lone Warrior. “Know this,” he said. “Once you take a path you can never again leave it. Once you choose a path every path becomes that path and it will lead you where it may. Pity the man with the Steel Blossom.”

The Lone Warrior looked back at The Shadow. “In the Wood of Mist The Guide said that one path can breed many choices. Life is the choices you make. You make it seem as if there were none but the first.”

The Shadow grinned. “But after the first choice is made then all the rest of your actions are determined by your own personality. After that first choice all is made up according to who you are.”

The Lone Warrior took out his own sword and leaned upon it. “But if you believe in that then you must also go back further and say that everything in your life is predetermined because of who you are, but you are also saying that who you are is determined by what happens in your life. It can not be.”

The Shadow kept grinning. “Perhaps, though some would say that who you are is already determined before you are born.”

The Lone Warrior waved his hand vaguely. “Then you must believe that something before your own birth determined who you are for one reason or another. Then you are simply back at the same argument for that something must have been determined by someone else and their choices.”

The Shadow laughed. “You must work for Law. None but they have ever been able to offer such an argument.”

The Lone Warrior shook his head gravely. “I work for myself.”

The Shadow laughed again. “Every warrior works for one cause or another. Those that do not have no purpose, for what purpose does a warrior have but to fight, and what purpose is there to fight except for a cause? Does it truly matter what cause they work for? It is not about the cause. It is about the fight.”

The Lone Warrior shook his head. “It cannot be about the fight,” he said. “For if it there were no other purpose but the fight then the fight would never end and then the causes would be useless for they would never be about anything but fighting and so they would be the same and then there would be no cause for the fight because there would be no argument. The purpose of the fight must be to stop the fight.”

Now The Shadow was confused. “Could it be that you work for Chaos? No other peoples believe in such a thing, that the fight is fought so that it can be ended. But you also offer an argument for Law when you spoke of the continuing of the being. Are you one of the Warriors for Justice?”

The Lone Warrior tilted his head. “I do not know of Justice.”

The Shadow stood up and walked over to the Lone Warrior. He looked upon the pommel of his sword and then gave a short gasp of surprise. He straitened and walked back over to his own sword. He picked it up and put it back upon his belt. He turned to the Lone Warrior. “I told you earlier to pity the man with the Steel Blossom, I do not revoke that. You have chosen your path.” And with that The Shadow left.

Stones

So it was that the Lone Warrior came to a cliff. He looked down upon the land that stretched mile upon mile and he found his heart gladdened. He would explore this world and he would find what he sought. And so it was that when he climbed down from this cliff that he found a mountaineer who was resting at his leisure on the sun warmed stones. He was called Stone Heart and lived by his lonesome in the mountains. The Lone Warrior hailed him several times but only after much persistence did he answer.

“Why do you stay here among the rocks?” the Lone Warrior asked him. “It is lonely and desolate up here.”

Stone Heart shrugged. “People have no appeal for me,” he said. “They’re too soft. The rocks are constant and unchanging. They will always be there for me.”

The Lone Warrior picked up a rock and thew it down upon the ground and watched it shatter. Stone Heart stood up in amazement. “You see,” The Lone Warrior began. “Even rocks are prone to being broken if given enough stress.” The Lone Warrior picked up the rock. He pointed to a fault line in the rock. “Even rocks have defects.” With that the Lone Warrior left Stone Heart as he felt his heart shatter.

Light

So it was that The Lone Warrior came upon a waterfall that descended from the tops of the Mountains at the Edge of the World. These cliffs were home to him as he had grown up there as a boy, though when he had last been there there had been no cliffs, but a plain. There in the mists of the falling water he saw a vision of a woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The Lone Warrior went up to the water, expecting it to be but a trick of the light, but the woman remained no matter how he turned. The Lone Warrior hailed her.

“Woman of Water,” he said. “How are you called?”

The Woman did not answer save to laugh a light tinkling musical laugh. She waved a hand at him and smiled.

The Lone Warrior felt his heart beating in his chest. “Who are you?” he asked in wonder.

The figure laughed again. “I am what you would call me,” she said. “I live only for thee.”

The Lone Warrior came closer to the water and the closer he got the more beautiful the figure became. “You cannot be real,” he said. “You must be a vision.”

At this her laughter changed. “Vision you have called me and so vision I am,” and saying so her form became more and more indistinct until she could barely be seen.

The Lone Warrior stepped closer trying to save her image and then cried out in pain. He placed a hand on his left arm and found a arrow buried there. Again the Woman laughed and thus she disappeared from all of The Lone Warrior’s reckoning.

Hearts

After many days of wandering in the wilderness The Lone Warrior came to a grove of willows. There he found an angel that had descended to earth. Her name was Arwen. She sat upon the trunk of a fallen willow and sang. The Lone Warrior was taken aback for her face seemed almost to mirror the face of the vision of water. He hailed her yet she kept singing until her song was done. They then exchanged greetings.

“Hail to thee, Warrior that walks alone and greatest of the Steel Blossoms.”

The Lone Warrior started in surprise. “You seem to know my devise, Lady,” he said. “You must be well traveled indeed to know so obscure a fact.”

Arwen laughed. “You are naïve, Warrior,” she said. “All of the heavenly host speaks of you and your great deeds.”

The Lone Warrior shook his head. “I am not one worthy of such attention. I seek the past in the future, could you know of such a way to bring this about?”

Arwen giggled. “You surely are a charming one, Warrior. Perhaps we could walk for a while and you may speak to me of your travels and I may tell you of the things I have seen.”

So the two walked together in the grove and found each other enjoyable company. The Lone Warrior tarried there for many days in order to be with the angel and to share her company. She in turn seemed to enjoy his. Others often came and went from the Arwen’s grove. These she doted on just as much as the Warrior and he felt the stirrings of jealousy within his heart. Every time this happened his sword seemed to grow heavier and heavier.

Soon there came to the grove another, The Shadow, whom the Warrior had met before upon his travels and had parted with not too long ago. When he found the Warrior in such a place utterly doting upon the Angel he decided to take the Warrior away. He went to the Warrior and reminded him of his quest and their times together and the goodness of the road and so it was that the Warrior’s will began to waver and eventually he agreed to leave.

The Warrior went up to the Arwen and asked permission to take his leave. At this she laughed. “I was hoping you would leave soon, you seemed so unhappy. Go find your joy out in the world.”

The Warrior shook his head. “My joy is with you,” he said, but the Angel did not hear, nor did she hear him ever again for her mind had strayed back to heaven and the hosts that were her world, just as the road was his.

The Warrior wept bitterly but he stood and left the grove. It seemed to him as if many years had passed, though it was perhaps two months. The Shadow tried to comfort the Warrior, but nothing that he said seemed to matter. The Heart of the Warrior had been taken unknowingly by a person who did not even live in his world.

“Allow me to hold your sword,” the Shadow said. The Lone Warrior took the sword out of it’s sheath and the rose glittered a fierce red. The Shadow took the sword and found that he could not even lift it, yet when he handed it back to the Lone Warrior he saw him lift it with ease. At this The Shadow frowned.

“Did I not tell you to pity he who bore the metallic petals? You did not head my warning and now you see the price.” Yet the Lone Warrior cared not what The Shadow said for he was still thinking of the Angel that lived in another world.

Armor

Soon The Lone Warrior came to a dense forest, called The Trees of Trust. It was in this dank forest that he met a man known as the Masked Knight, a man that wore armor all over his body and never showed his face or spoke to any man. The Lone Warrior hailed him.

“Where go you Masked Knight?” The Lone Warrior asked.

“I search for perfection,” the Masked Knight said. “Without perfection life is not worth the living. What quest do you follow?”

“I also search for perfection,” The Lone Warrior said. “I search for the perfection in imperfections, the glory of the vainglorious, the peace in pain. I look for the past.”

The Masked Knight shifted his stance and sheathed his sword. “Surely that is the stirrings of madness or the hallmark of true wisdom. But I say that if we are both in search of the same thing, no matter what the form, then we should search together and thus make out searching lighter.”

The Lone Warrior nodded his head. “Indeed, let us aid one another. The road awaits.”

It was many days later that the two travelers found a small grove of pine trees and made a small camp there and rested from there journey for a while. The two had been tried and weary but after a day they were well rested and The Lone Warrior ventured a question of his silent companion.

“Why do you where the mask, friend?” he asked.

The Masked Knight looked at The Lone Warrior and inclined his head towards him. “Why do you wear your own armor?”

At this the Lone Warrior looked at himself and saw that did indeed wear armor and that it was a deep midnight blue and instantly he was reminded of the Angel and the Village of Deceit. At these memories The Lone Warrior turned aside and gripped his sword handle feeling the great weight of the RoseSword.

The Masked Knight pretended not to notice his discomfort, though it was quite plain to him. “Our armor is to protect us from what we fear to be hurt by. You have your wounds and I have mine.”

The Lone Warrior pulled out the RoseSword and looked at it for a long time. The blade was heavy, and the rose on the hilt was now a bright scarlet, the stem a brilliant vermilion. He put the sword away and slept fitfully.

Symbols

And so it came that the Lone Warrior and The Masked Knight were on a road that traveled through a seemingly endless plain called The Desolate Plain. It was there, sitting upon a large rock was a figure. He held a long bow and carried a quiver and wore all black loose fitting clothes and would give no other name than the Archer.

“Where do you hail from friend Archer?” The Lone Warrior asked.

The Archer shifted his position on the rock and looked off into the distance. “I was born in The Wood of Mist and was raised on these empty plains. I have seen many come and go and I have even traveled with a few, but always are the plains and always do I come back.”

“Who is it that you serve, Archer?” The Masked Knight asked.

The Archer turned to him. “I know no master save that of the Desolation.”

The Masked Knight nodded. “So it is Law that you serve.”

“Why don’t you join us?” asked The Lone Warrior. “Surely it is better than staying here in this empty field? We search for perfection in different forms. Why not come?”

The Archer stood. “I will come with you, though know that as far as I know the Desolation is the ultimate perfection, for what can be more perfect than absolute nothingness?”

The Lone Warrior nodded his head. “Perhaps we will find your views to be correct, however, I would rather live in imperfection than to live in Desolation.”

At this the Archer laughed. “You do not live in Desolation, you cease to exist, and I will continue in this quest once ours is complete.”

“The choice is yours,” The Lone Warrior said. “But I hope you will change your mind someday.”

The Archer jumped down next to the others. He pulled out his bow to show it to the two warriors. There, carved on the wood, was a small symbol, a circle surrounding a dot. Once the Masked Knight saw this he gave a small sound of recognition. “So you are the Desolate Archer.”

The Archer nodded. “And you the Masked Knight, or the Knight Without a Standard.”

The Masked Knight merely nodded. “My standard remains known only to the one who needs it.”

The Lone Warrior pulled out his sword. “And I am The Lone Warrior, sometimes known as The Warrior of the Rose Blade.”

The Archer nodded. “Now all is good. Let us be off.”

Isolate

And so it was that soon the three companions came to a pass high in the mountains and there found a man guarding the way, or perhaps he was blocking the way. He was tall with thick heavy armor and a large unwieldy sword that he hefted with no problem. Upon his face was a smiling mask with a small blood red tear on one cheek. The Lone Warrior hailed him as they drew nearer and the man answered back. He was known only as the Smiling Knight.

“Why do you stand guard here Smiling Knight?” asked the Lone Warrior.

“Where is the point of going on?” intoned the Smiling Knight. “What else is there that I have not already seen? I have seen the Desolate Plains as they burned in fire, I have seen the Trees of Trust as they have been cut down, I have seen the Wood of Mist when the skies are clear, I have seen the Plains of Adventure before the quest’s begun, I have seen the Edge of the World. I have seen more than I ever wanted to of this world and I will continue to see it whether I move from this spot or no.”

The Masked Knight and the Desolate Archer did not speak. It was the Lone Warrior that next spoke. “It seems as if all you have seen has been of great sadness. Why do you not come with us and see if you can find joy? We are all after one form of perfection or another. You could seek yours with us.”

The Smiling Knight chuckled hollowly. “Why not indeed. Should nothing come of it I shall have a laugh as I have had no other. I shall come.” Then the Knight drew his huge sword and showed the pommel to the three. There upon his weapon was engraved a small image of the mask that he wore.

The Desolate Archer nodded at the sight of it. “All is as it should be,” he said.

And so the Four came together at last. The Lone Warrior, The Masked Knight, The Desolate Archer and the Smiling Knight. Great Warriors all, brought together by a greater need, a greater sense than theirs. In time they would be known by many names in many places. Some would call them the Horsemen. Some would call them the Deliverers. They were, in truth, only men, men who had seen sadness greater than themselves and each one forming themselves around that known sadness. It was this that drew them together and it was this that drove them apart.

The First Adventure

So the Four came finally to a village, the first that the Lone Warrior had ever seen in this new world which was like his own and yet unlike, and truly it seemed very familiar to him but also very strange, yet he said nothing of this as the Four walked into that town. All was quiet when they entered and the Four made no sound, fearing to disturb that great silence.

As they were weary the walked over to a large building with a sign with a bed upon it, seeking comfortable rest. When they came into that building, however, there was no one there. They called and searched but there was no one. Thinking this strange they started to search all the other buildings. All were empty and all were silent.

“This makes me uneasy,” said the Lone Warrior. “Where are the villagers that should be in this desolate town?”

The Desolate Archer alone seemed completely at ease. “I find the silence comfortable,” he said. “It reminds me of the Empty Plains.”

Both the Masked Knight and the Smiling Knight said nothing, though they seemed to be uneasy as well.

The Lone Warrior shrugged his shoulders. “There is nothing for it. Let us rest at the inn and if no one shows up we simply leave in the morning.”

The Four all agreed and went back to the inn and found a room with four beds in it. Here they laid their things and ate a small meal before falling asleep.

In the night the Lone Warrior had strange dreams, dreams about the world he had left behind and of the Angel he had known and the wound he had been given by the vision of water throbbed painfully.

When the Four awoke they saw that the sun had risen and got up to leave. They went downstairs but still there was no one there. They left a little money on the counter, and a broken string, and left the cold, silent inn. When they went outside, however, they were shocked to find a man sitting in the middle of the road in the middle of the town. Strange he seemed after the still almost death-like emptiness of the town. He was sitting on a small chair sharpening a broad sword laid across his lap. There were two other swords and a bow at his feet. Almost at once each of the companions reached for their weapons and found them not there. The man in the chair smiled as he saw them. He had long, waist length black hair and sharp, pointed features and strange yellow eyes.

He was known by many names and many forms in many places. He took great delight in playing jokes and tricks on other people with his powers and with his wit. No one knew his real name but he was known to most as Coyote.

“Well met my Four friends,” he said. “But you should have known better than to stay somewhere you are not welcome.”

The Masked Warrior stepped forward. “There was no one in this town when we came here. We were unaware of the fact that we were not wanted here.”

The Smiling Knight stepped forward. “Stand aside, elf, and give us back what belongs in our possession.”

Coyote laughed. “The Four unarmed, what will you do to me? The weapons are payment for staying in my village. You cannot have them back.”

The Lone Warrior stepped forward. “We left you money and left the rooms as we found them. What more would you ask of us? We need those weapons and we must continue our journey.”

Again The Coyote laughed. “The Quest for perfection in all it’s forms. Truly you must be the most foolish of men. Not even the greatest of the Wise sought out what you Four seek. They knew that it was impossible. The Gods laugh at your folly.”

“There is nothing that is not possible, my Lord,” said The Lone Warrior. “And we shall continue to search until we find what we seek, for we know that it truly must be possible. Why else would such an idea exist as perfection if it were not obtainable?”

“Folly,” said The Coyote, though his mind was troubled by what The Lone Warrior had said. “If you want your weapons back then you must do some certain tasks for me to pay me back for the debt that you have incurred.”

“How can we accomplish these tasks if we do not have our weapons?” asked The Masked Knight.

Coyote grinned. “I am sure that with Four such as yourselves you will be able to find a way. You must complete Four tasks for me, each to be accomplished by an individual of your group. The first is to retrieve for me a vase, a certain vase which I must have. It is called simply Everlasting.”

At this The Smiling Knight stepped forward, his smiling mask seeming to mock the very grin of The Coyote. “I will do this task for you.”

Coyote smiled. “Next, one of your number is to fight a monster for me, a monster called The Changing and bring me back it’s eye as proof.”

The Desolate Archer stepped for ward upon hearing this. “I will do this, you meddling Lord of Chaos.”

Coyote laughed. “It must truly grate upon you to have to do my bidding, Desolate One. Often has Law chosen you as it’s champion, yet never have they been able to control you. Now I control you. Ha!” He then turned to The Lone Warrior and The Masked Knight. “One of you must go and fetch me a cup of water from the Well of Truth.”

The Masked Knight stepped forward. “This I will do. I have no reason to fear truth.”

Coyote simply smiled and then turned to The Lone Warrior. “You, my friend must perform the last task. If you go behind the inn you will find a man standing in a field. You must fight this man and win. You can try as many times as you want to, but you must know that this man is undefeated in every form of single combat.”

The Lone Warrior simply nodded his head. “If this is what I must do in order to continue my Quest with my friends then so be it. I will do as you have requested of me.”

Coyote laughed loudly. “Splendid! Now, all of you! To your own tasks.” And The Masked Knight, Desolate Archer, and The Laughing Knight all vanished, leaving The Lone Warrior with the Lord of Chaos.

“Now go and begin, Lonely One,” The Coyote said mockingly. “See if your singularity will win again.”

The Lone Warrior left the street with a long glance back at The Rose Blade, which was still in the hands of The Coyote and then walked around the inn and started wading through the chest-high grass that was on the other side.

After about half an hour of walking the Lone Warrior suddenly stumbled out into a circle of land where the grass did not grow and the dusty brown ground was hard packed as if it were walked over many times. In the middle of that circle stood a man who was naked to the waist with long black hair. He was wearing light cloth pants and light leather shoes with a black sash tied about his waist. He calmly watched as the Lone Warrior came into the circle, his armor making some sound in the surrounding silence. The man in the circle had no name, and was only called by some The Solider.

The Lone Warrior hailed him and The Solider answered politely, but in a distant kind of manner. “I have come to fight you,” The Lone Warrior said. “It is necessary to continue my Quest. I do not really wish to fight you, but I must."

At this the Solider went into a fighting stance. “Then how is it that you wish to fight, Sir Warrior? I will fight with swords, I will fight with spears, I will fight with bows, I will fight with staffs, I will fight with only my bare hands. I will not be defeated.”

The Lone Warrior nodded. “Let us fight with our hands since I am currently without weapon.”

The Solider nodded curtly. “So be it.”

The two warriors grappled, coming together in a rush, each of them trying to feel the other one’s style while trying to end the battle as quickly as possible. They fought for hours until The Solider caught The Lone Warrior’s hand and threw him out of the circle of dirt.

“You are defeated,” The Solider said with no trace of satisfaction or regret. He showed emotion only when he fought and even then it was only rage.

The Lone Warrior stood up in the grass and shook his head. He sat down to consider the battle that he had just fought. It was obvious that The Solider was in his element and that he was a better fighter than The Lone Warrior was. Even with his best effort The Lone Warrior had not been able to topple him.

“Indeed,” The Lone Warrior said at last. “You are truly as powerful as they say that you are.”

The Solider merely nodded. “Will you try again, honorable Warrior?”

“I believe that I must.”

The Quest of The Smiling Knight

The Smiling Knight found himself in a village identical to that of the one that he and his companions had just been in. This village, however, was filled to overflowing with people and the village was known as The Place of Beginnings. His companions were no where to be found. He was alone, but he was used to being alone.

Soon The Smiling Knight hailed a passing person, an old man, asking towards the vase, Everlasting. “I seek a certain treasure, which is rumored to be in these parts,” The Smiling Knight spoke. “It is a certain vase that is called Everlasting.”

“Indeed, you must be very brave,” said the old man. “The Everlasting rests in the back of cave called Eternity and it collects the dew that drips off the flower in that cave, which is called The Love Tulip. The cave is but a few miles from here, but it may be many more before you find Everlasting, for it is guarded not only by an Unsleeping Knight but also by an extensive labyrinth. Many have sought it, but none have ever returned.”

The Smiling Knight nodded his masked head. “That is because none of those have been of my caliber. In which direction does this cave lie?”

The old man pointed off to the west and The Smiling Knight thanked him and began to walk. Outside the town was an extensive field of tall grass that came up to the shoulders of The Smiling Knight. Soon The Smiling Knight came to the cave Eternity and entered to find himself in a long passage going back into the living rock. After an hour of walking the Smiling Knight came to a door upon which was carved the image of a vase of incomparable craftsmanship which collected drips of water falling from the tip of a long graceful flower. The Smiling Knight opened the door and went in.

Inside the room was the scene that had been laid out upon the door, the vase on a small pedestal and the flower growing among some moss on a shelf above the vase.

The Smiling Knight approached the table. “Indeed, this seems too easy,” he said as he picked up the vase.

“Too true,” said a voice behind him. The Smiling Knight turned and standing in front of the doorway was a man of huge size, at least a head taller than The Smiling Knight and wielding a huge axe. The Knight was known as The Unsleeping Knight and it was said that he had never once shut his eyes in during the centuries long vigil that he had kept over the Everlasting.

The Smiling Knight put the vase that he was holding back on the table. “Where is the Everlasting?” he asked. “Truly it cannot be this.”

The Unsleeping Knight laughed harshly. “Indeed, it is not. Would you be up to the challenge, though? No one has ever even found the Everlasting, and even if they had they would have had to defeat me, and I have never been defeated.”

The Smiling Knight nodded. “I will find the Everlasting. I must in order to win back my honor.”

The Unsleeping Knight grinned. “Go, then.” And where the vase and the flower had been there was now another door, plain and unadorned. The Smiling Knight opened the door and walked in.

Inside was a maze of huge proportions with many paths and turns and dead ends. Many warriors had wandered in this maze till their dying day, never knowing how to get to the vase and forgetting how to get out.

The Smiling Knight sat down at the beginning of this maze and thought. He would soon be lost among all those passages if he did not have a way to know where he was going. He looked around and his eye caught a small engraving on the frame of the door he had just come through. It was fashioned in the likeness of a flower.

The Smiling Knight stood up and walked down the passage until there were three separate ways to continue. To the side of one of the passages there was carved the image of a sword, on another the image of a coin, but on the other was the same image of the flower. The Smiling Knight went through that passage until there were four ways that he could go. On one passage there was the image of the sword, another the image of the coin, on another there was the image of a book, but on the fourth there was the image of the flower. He went through that one.

The Smiling Knight continued on in this manner for what seemed like days, each time going through the passages marked with the flower, each time confronted with other images pleasing to the eye. As he went along these other images became more and more elaborate, each detailing some pleasure, some luxury, some form of power, and the images became more and more compelling, seeming to scramble for his attention, to beg him to choose that way as if it would lead to the image that it promised. The Smiling Knight was resolute, however. Always did he choose the path of the flower, which seemed to grow shabbier as he went along.

Eventually The Smiling Knight found himself in a place where he was presented with sixteen choices, and all of the pictures pulled at him, drawing him into their depths with the promise of power and fame and money and strength, yet there again was the small little flower, and it was with a weary heart and mind that he turned from all the others and went down that passage.

Soon The Smiling Knight came to a door, plain and simple, with the image of the flower on it’s frame. The Smiling Knight opened this door and went inside.

In that room was a crude table upon which was a simple clay vase, unpainted and unornamented. On a shelf in the rock above that vase was a small flower, which, though not exceedingly graceful or beautiful, had an aura of purity about it that pulled The Smiling Knight closer.

“You alone have made it this far,” said The Unsleeping Knight behind him. He turned to face him and found not the towering man that he had seen in the entrance of the cave, but a man of medium height and build, completely unremarkable. But there was a serenity in his eyes that could not be denied and it made you listen to him, for you knew that whatever he said would be said for a good reason. “You alone where so many have failed. That is truly Everlasting, and I believe that you must take it in order to get back something that is worth more to you than all of those things that was promised to you.”

“I succeeded because I do not believe in the value of those things,” said The Smiling Knight. “There is nothing in this world that brings me happiness, there is nothing that I cherish. I do not want power, I do not want money, I do not want fame. All of those things are empty, just as the world is.”

The Unsleeping Knight nodded. “It is true that all those things are empty, yet how can it be that you are here if you truly believe that there is nothing in the world worth living for? Why did you choose that flower when there were all those other options open to you? If there is no worth in any of them then one must be just like another, yes?”

The Smiling Knight went over to the table and picked up the vase. Inside there was water, and it seemed to gleam and shimmer like the night stars.

“Why did you choose the flower, Smiling Knight?” The Unsleeping Knight asked him. “You and I both know that that sword means nothing to you. It’s not the sword. What is it you want?”

The Smiling Knight turned to him, lifted the vase to his lips and drank deeply of the water. He handed the vase to The Unsleeping Knight and he too took a long draught. “I came so that I might quench my thirst, friend Knight.”

The Unsleeping Knight smiled at him. “You do know that that vase is worthless? That is not why there’s a maze here.”

The Smiling Knight glanced once at the flower on the shelf of stone. “Yes, I know.”

“Then go,” said The Unsleeping Knight.

The Smiling Knight went to the door and looked back once to find The Unsleeping Knight had placed another vase in the spot of the last just in time for it to catch a falling drop of dew from the flower, The Love Tulip. He turned back to the door, opened it, and found himself in the first chamber of the cave Eternal. Still holding the simple vase The Smiling Knight went back out to the field of grass and back to the town.

The Quest of the Desolate Archer

The Desolate Archer found himself in a large forest that he could not name. He immediately set out to find the monster Changing that he had been sent to kill, though he had no idea where to start. He had heard about the Changing before. It was a creature of Chaos, the pet of one of the Chaos Lords, and it had a reputation for eating people who tried to kill it. The Desolate Archer had never tried to find or kill it before, but it had been rumored to be in a land far far away where no man could ever go. Apparently he was now in that land.

The Desolate Archer reflected on his position as he went through the forest. He was alone. He would have no help to defeat the beast of Chaos and he had no weapon. This was worse than anything else. People he had little to no use for, weapons were another matter.

After many hours of search The Desolate Archer found a small village of grass huts. Intrigued, he went into the village and found that it was inhabited with people, the likes of which he had never seen before. This was not too unusual, however, so he went up to the first person he saw and hailed them.

“Do you know of the place where the monster Changing lives?” he asked of a young woman.

“If you speak of the Inconsistent Monster I would advise you to stay away from his lair,” she said. “No man would stand a chance against that creature.”

“I am one man,” The Desolate Archer said. “Tell me where it is.”

The young woman pointed away to the north and The Desolate Archer left in that direction. Through the trees he ran until he saw before him a vast cave with a hideous stench coming from it. Thinking to take the creature asleep The Desolate Archer got a sturdy stick and sharpened it upon a rock and then crept towards the cave mouth.

“Interesting” a terrible voice said behind him, a voice that no human throat could produce. The Desolate Archer turned and saw Changing. At this moment it was shaped as a giant boar and there was blood dripping from it’s tusks.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say that you were the one known as The Desolate Archer,” said Changing. “I am honored by your presence, you blight upon creation. The only man to ever live who desires complete destruction. You are a sad sad man.”

“What I want is my own business. I have come to kill you.” The Desolate Archer got a grip on the stick. “Let us get down to it.”

The Changing began to walk towards him and by the time it was ten feet away from The Desolate Archer it had changed ten times and was now something like an octopus. “You know as well as I do that you cannot defeat me with such a puny weapon. I could simply do this:” then Changing turned into a very large creature with some kind of shell coving it’s entire body. “You need something more substantial in order to defeat me. Where are the Arrows of Void that I have heard so much about?”

“It is for their retrieval that I have come to face you,” The Desolate Archer said. “The one that keeps them from me told me to destroy you, and I shall, regardless of whether or not I have my own weapon.”

“Alright then,” said Changing. “If you’re so bent on this conflict then we’ll at least try to make it fair.” The Changing took one step forward and then it was in the shape of a man. “Now, let us grapple with one another.”

The Desolate Archer fought against Changing for more than an hour, grappling with it, trying to overcome it’s strength, but matter how hard he tried he could not defeat him. Changing never got tired, did not know what it meant to be tired because it had never been any sort of real creature and so it was in defeat that The Desolate Archer collapsed before Changing and waited to be destroyed.

The Desolate Archer waited, in exhaustion on the ground, for the creature to take him, to eat him or kill him, but nothing happened. Soon The Desolate Archer lifted his head and found that Changing was sitting right in front of him, still in his human form.

“Why do you not destroy me, creature of Chaos?” said The Desolate Archer.

“Why should I?” said Changing. “You gave me a good conflict, despite being totally overwhelmed. You have a great spirit. It would be a shame to destroy that spirit, despite my right to do so. Tell me, what is it that your friend asked of you for the return of your weapons?”

“I was commanded to bring back your eye as proof of my victory,” said The Desolate Archer.

Changing laughed and stood up. “Is that all? I think that you have given me enough entertainment for a little prize, though most would think that their life is enough.” With that Changing became a vast tentacle monster with an eye on the end of each of it’s tentacles. “Go ahead and chop on off.”

The Desolate Archer took the stick that he had dropped in the fight and swiftly cut off the end of one of the tentacles. He bent down to pick it up and by the time he had raised his head Changing had turned back into a man. “Go, petty, pathetic Archer. Continue with your quest for pure non-existence. Remember this, however. You cannot defeat me, nor will you ever be able to. I am as constant as the ground you stand upon. I will always be here.”

The Desolate Archer said nothing, but simply left, ashamed by the fact that he had not the power to defeat what he wanted to defeat more than anything.

The Quest of The Masked Knight

The Masked Knight found himself in the middle of a vast desert, known as Soul’s End, and in this desert no living thing thrived, nothing grew or moved under it’s own power, only the sand as it was pushed by The Winds of Indifference. The Masked Knight took his bearings by the sun and began to walk into the east, where he felt the pull of the Well as sure as the touch of the wind.

Many hours later the sun had set, and yet the Masked Knight walked on, relentless in his quest. He continued to walk until the sun came up again and even then he still went on. He saw nothing, felt no stir of life in the barren sands, only the sun and the pull of the well. He walked silently, his footsteps muffled by the sand and he felt comforted by the silence.

After the sun had begun to fall on the second day did he see the Well of Truth, an ordinary stone well sitting alone in the desert, it’s waters clear and cool, yet no plant crowded around it, feeding off this precious source, no animal lived near it, enjoying the water. It stood alone.

The Masked Knight went up to the well, and found a cup sitting at it’s base. He picked up the cup and bent over to look into the well. When the Masked Knight looked into the well he saw himself, for the water was full up to near overflowing, yet the Masked Knight that looked back at him was maskless.

The Masked Knight recoiled in horror at his own image, which he had not seen in many many years. “Is this what you had expected, lord Knight?” a voice called to him. Yet, when the Masked Knight looked around there was no one.

“You think that you do not fear the truth, lord Knight, yet you cannot look into your own soul without cringing,” said the voice. “How can you think to know the truth of the world when you cannot face the truth of yourself?”

The Masked Knight gripped the cup tight and crept back towards the well. This time, when he looked in, he saw himself, masked, as he had always known himself. Yet, when he went to take a cup of water from the well he could not.

“You are not allowed, lord,” the voice told him. “In order to take from The Well of Truth you must be able to face truth in all forms. You cannot hide behind masks and armor and take the water from this well. Once, this place was beautiful, this barren waste that you see before you. It was called the Plains of Possibility and there were beautiful people here. They were the ones who dug this well, and it was then that they began to see the real meaning of truth. They themselves, being unable to accept their own truth, withered away, unable to bear their souls to truth, unable to look at themselves, for they could only see the ugliness that was in their souls and thought that was all the truth that they had. Only one who may see both sides of their own truth can truly know it. Only those who can see the good and the bad will know pure truth, otherwise that truth is tainted and worthless.”

The Masked Knight looked deep into the well, took the cup and dipped it in and when he brought it out he found the water to be brown and brackish, polluted. He bent over the well once more. Long did he stand and regard his image, and after long hours he reached up his hand and took off his mask and his armor, and stared into the face he had hoped would be forgotten. This time, when he took the cup and brought out water it was light, pure and sweet, and he took a long draught. He then took another cup and, putting on his mask and armor once again, went off into the desert.

The Quest of the Lone Warrior

It had been days. The Lone Warrior rested each night and drank from a small stream nearby. He did not want for food because The Solider shared his rations with him, and thus he never went hungry. Every day he challenged The Solider anew, and every day The Lone Warrior was defeated in every form of contest and battle. They fought in every style with every weapon, and there was yet to be one victory for The Lone Warrior. He began to despair of ever winning, his melancholy overwhelming him, making him weaker and weaker. Thus was it when the other companions returned from their quests and sought him out, finding him not at the appointed place. Coyote went with them and it was thus that the four found him, weary in body and soul, devoid of will, ready to quit, lying in the grass staring up at the sky.

The Masked Knight went over to The Lone Warrior and roused him. “Get up, brother. You must finish your fight so that we may leave this place.”

The Lone Warrior continued to look at the sky. “I cannot defeat him by myself. I have tried these past seven days to defeat him, but I cannot.”

The Smiling Knight stepped forward. “Then we will defeat him together.” And with that The Smiling Knight stepped into the circle, facing The Solider. The Masked Knight followed after and then The Desolate Archer. “Come, brother,” The Smiling Knight called. “We will fight by your side, but you must fight with us.”

The Lone Warrior stood up and it seemed that all his weariness melted from him as he stepped into the circle and joined his comrades to face The Solider. His slouched shoulders lifted, his back straitened and there was strength in his step once again. “We will face you,” The Lone Warrior said. “For we are The Four and we fight as One.”

The Solider laughed. “Then come, and we will see whether or not these are odds to beat me.”
The Four came at him all at once, as if they were of one mind, each one compensating for the others where their powers failed, surging forward where they were the strongest. The Solider was outnumbered, but fought with a ferocity that was beyond belief. The battle lasted for hours, neither side letting the other gain any ground, until, amazingly, The Solider began to slow, his attacks growing weaker until he simply collapsed upon the ground, overcome by their bond.

The Lone Warrior looked at his fallen foe gently. “Indeed,” he said. “To be alone is to be truly weak.” He turned to Coyote. “We have completed the tasks you have set for us. We have paid our debt. Give us back what belongs in our possession.”

Coyote laughed. “Well done, my Four, well done. Here are the weapons, as promised.” And he tossed their weapons to the dirt at their feet. The Lone Warrior picked up the Steel Blossom and found that it felt lighter than he remembered it being. He gazed at it in wonderment and then smiled. “It seems almost as if we should be indebted to you, Coyote, for your quests have done more for us than they must have done for you.”

At this Coyote grinned. “You may think so, but indeed, you would be wrong. These three things that you have brought me may seem to be worthless and the things that you have gained seem to be much, but there are things abound in the world that you are not aware of, and these gifts will help my hand in them.

“I hope that our wills do not cross again, valiant Four, for I know something of your power now and know that if I had not had your weapons such a threat that I leveled would have been folly. Beware. There are many creatures in this world that are more powerful than I, who am merely a jester in a court of knights and kings. Tread softly in these lands. Good luck.” Then Coyote took Everlasting, the eye of Changing and The Water of Truth and, speaking briefly to the still prone form of The Solider, walked out into the field and out of sight.

When The Four sought again the road that they had been traveling they found that the town that they had rested in had vanished and that there was only a grouping of rocks that their path wound through. They took to the road again and rested that evening in the field under a crescent moon and stars that glittered in the black night and the coyotes howled to their lost and wandering.

Fear

Soon it was that the Four came to a mountain known as The Gates of Hell, and found that there was no way around this mountain and that to continue on their quest they would have to pass through it.

“This is the domain of the Lords of Chaos,” said the Desolate Archer. “Their realm begins at the foot of this mountain and continues on for farther than any man has ever walked.”

“Perhaps the Lords of Chaos might know of a way for each of us to gain his perfection,” The Lone Warrior said.

“My perfection can only be offered by the Lords of Law,” the Desolate Archer said. “But you will need my aid if you propose to go and face the Lords of Chaos.”

The Smiling Knight laughed. “So we go to challenge the Dukes of Hell. Somehow I’m not surprised.”

The Masked Knight gripped his sword. “Perfection must be earned, yet never thought I that we would brave such a challenge.”

The Lone Warrior nodded. “Then let us go.”

“Wait, Noble Four,” said a voice from behind. The Four turned a found a man standing in the shadows of a tree. “If you go forth, you will not be allowed to return to this plane. That is the belly of the whale.”

The Lone Warrior stepped forward. “Are you not The Shadow that has aided me in my quest so many times?” he asked.

The Shadow stepped forward. “I told you to pity the man with the Steel Blossom. You are now faced with the same choice that I was given. There is no turning back after you enter those gates and go into the domain of the Dukes of Hell.”

“What use is there in not going?” said the Lone Warrior. “Truly, our quest cannot end, as it would surely do if we decided to stop here. We must go on. I thank you for the warning, my comrade. We will go on with caution.”

And so it was that the Four entered the land of greatest peril, for no one may guess at the motivations of any Lord of Chaos, as their whims are as flighty and insubstantial as their name sake. They crossed the Plain of Possibility and came to the foot of the mountain and found there a path that led up into the very heart of that towering rock.

After a day of following this path they came to a lesser summit of the mountain and rested there, gathering their strength for the next assent. They stayed there the night, each of them keeping close to the meager fire that they made, feeling the wild power contained within the mountain, and knowing that soon they would be coming even closer to it’s source.

The next day they came to a tall gate of a substance not known to any of them, and guarding this gate was a massive warrior who had been placed there as guardian at the Dawn of Time. He was one of the first creations of Chaos, and his brother was Changing, and thus he held great power. He was an invincible warrior. He was known only as Fear, and there had been few that had ever challenged him and fewer still that had succeeded in passing him.

He hailed The Four. “Who are you that wish to pass into Chaos?”

The Lone Warrior stepped forth. “We are in search of perfection in all forms. We have searched the Desolate Plains, The Woods of Mist, The Edge of the World and the mountains and groves and forests in-between. We have fought great warriors and monsters, been wounded, have healed, and have searched still, but never have we found what we sought. This is the last threshold that we can cross in our journey. If we cannot enter into Chaos our quest is at an end, and failed. We seek perfection. Let us pass.”

Fear gripped the sword at his side that was called Panic and looked down upon The Four, for he was of great stature, tall as a tree and as wide as a boulder, and he gazed at them and gave reply. “For all time I have kept watch here, guarding The Gates of Hell. Many have sought me out in order to test their skills against me. Many have sought me out that they might enter the land of Chaos and gain great power for their own personal gain. Many have come to die. There has, as of yet, been none who have come with such a simple request, and I think that none shall ever come again. I know you cannot defeat me, and you know it as well, yet, for if no other reason than for the fact that your like shall never be seen here again, I shall allow you to pass.”

The Lone Warrior bowed his head. “Thank you, friend. If ever we find what we are searching for we shall come back and tell you of our quest.”

Fear shook his head. “Worry not, for I shall be with you always, as I am with every man.”

The Four each gave their respects to the guardian and passed through the gates into Chaos.

Hate

So The Four passed into the darkest of all realms, the area ruled by Chaos. In this world the landscape was ever changing and strange. The Four saw many things as they strode through the most alien of all worlds, things that they had never seen before, creatures of nightmare and dream and unreality.

Soon they came upon a vast forest of purple trees that stretched on towards the horizon in all directions, with but a single path through it. It was called The Wood of Anger and no one had ever passed all the way through it. They entered reluctantly, doubt plaguing their thoughts. They could feel the presence of the wood heavy on their minds as an oppressive weight.

“This is an evil wood” said The Smiling Knight. “There is an strong power here, and it resents our presence.”

“Indeed, I do” said a voice. The Four looked up and there, sitting in the crook of a tree, was a spry little man. “I am the guardian of the wood,” he said, “and I covet it greatly. So if you wouldn’t mind removing yourself from it and going back the way you came then I shall not harm you quite as much as I would.”

The Desolate Archer stepped forward. “I know you. You are known as Hate for the vehemence you bear towards those that travel through your wood.”

Hate leapt from the tree. “Indeed. And now that you know who I am I must ask you again to leave this wood, otherwise I shall have to use force in your removal.”

The Desolate Archer took a step back, but The Lone Warrior took a step forward. “We cannot go back, Hate. We must cross your wood in order to continue our quest. We apologize for any inconvenience it may cause you, but we must cross.”

Hate sneered at them. “You CANNOT cross this wood. It is mine, and no man may cross it. NO MAN. Now leave, or suffer the consequences.” Hate stepped closer.

The Lone Warrior stood his ground. “We cannot.”

Hate threw his hands into the air and sparks and fire shot from them, and he screamed an awful scream. He frothed a moaned and shouted, but the Lone Warrior would not move, and did not flinch in the face of Hate’s awful wrath. And, in the end, Hate was reduced to breathlessness with all his energy burnt our of him.

The Lone Warrior looked down upon Hate. “We must pass,” he said.

To this Hate could only fall upon his knees and whimper his acceptance. The Four passed by Hate, one by one, and saw that his power was as the wind. It could bluster and blow and topple things that did not resist it, but in the end it has no power. Thus they passed through the Wood of Anger.

Cowardice

So The Four traveled a great distance, greater than any traveler had ever gone in the pursuit of their quest, and they saw many things of great beauty and great terror. Eventually they came to the shore of an endless beach on an endless ocean. After so many trials they were disheartened to see so great a barrier, seemingly impossible to cross. The Four sat a great while upon the shore of that endless ocean, which was known only by a few, and those few knew it as Despair.

After many days of waiting and trying to formulate ways in which they could cross this ocean The Desolate Archer stood up and threw down his bow in frustration. “There is no avenue for our plight. The ocean will not hear our pleas. We cannot cross. We have failed. Let us go back and seek what we wish in our own world. There is no dishonor in that.”

The Lone Warrior turned to him. “We cannot go back. We must press on. We will not find what we seek in the places we have been before, you know that. If we wish to find what we seek then we must go forward, no matter what the obstacle.”

The Desolate Archer picked up his bow. “You are the greatest fool if you think you can succeed. Guardians and thieves and rough terrain are one thing. Oceans are another. The path ends here. Let us go. We have done all we can. There is no shame in that.”

The Smiling Knight stood up. “What are you so afraid of that you wish to turn back now?”

The Desolate Archer stared at The Smiling Knight. “I am not afraid of any power of Chaos. These are the Arrows of Void. No creature of Chaos, be it Lord or servant, can resist it’s strength.”

The Smiling Knight laughed. “The weapon of a coward. Only a coward takes a cross when hunting a vampire. Fear runs rampant through you like a fire through a forest. You think those puny arrows will protect you? There are more powers in this world than that of Chaos and Law, and you have no protection against them, and never have. And now you want to give up because you think there’s no way to cross. Truly you are a coward.”

The Desolate Archer stared at the Smiling Knight. There was a great tension in the air as the two of them faced each other. Then The Desolate Archer took up his weapons and walked back into Chaos, never to be seen again in any realm.

The Lone Warrior looked at The Smiling Knight. “You knew.”

The Smiling Knight nodded. “Indeed. I could sense it from the first time I saw him. He was afraid. Afraid of everything. That is why he wanted to exist in his empty world. He wanted to live in a world in which nothing existed because he knew that that was where his perfection was: It does not exist.”

The Lone Warrior stared at The Smiling Knight for a while and then hung his head. “It is as you say. I felt that we could change him.”

The Smiling Knight shook his head. “He was afraid of that too, no matter that it was the only thing that could have saved him.”

The Masked Knight stood up and pointed out to the sea. “Something’s coming.”

And indeed, there was something coming. As it came closer they could see that it was a ship of massive size, piloted by a giant man. He beached the ship and jumped down onto the sand. He stood half again as tall as the Lone Warrior and his arms were as thick as trees. He had been known by many names, but he was most commonly known as The Ship Builder, as had created the first and finest of all ships, The Bravery, which was the very shame ship he had beached behind him.

The Ship Builder approached The Three. “I had to wait until the fourth had left your group. He was not ready to cross Despair, nor shall he ever be.”

The Lone Warrior nodded. “Regretfully, yes.”

The Ship Builder nodded. “Indeed. Shall we be off now?”

The Lone Warrior looked at his two remaining companions. They both nodded in turn. The Lone Warrior turned to The Ship Builder. “Yes, let us continue.”

And so The Three came onto the ship Bravery and crossed the vast ocean of Despair.

[Sperrit]

Warriors

The Ship Builder set The Three down upon a small island covered in trees and wild. The Ship Builder told them that there was a man who lived in a small house in the center of the island, who was known as The Eldest, for he was the eldest of all men still living, and had survived and seen all the legendary disasters of the world. It was also rumored that this same man was no man at all, and he was truly Lucifer, the angel that had defied God, and that he had been exiled to this island many thousands of years ago. But that is another story.

When The Three got off the boat they found that there was a man standing upon the beach already, a remarkable man with an aura of dignity and royalty and of eternal, never-ending sadness. The Three approached him, but he gave no sign that he knew they were there.

The Lone Warrior hailed him. “Hello friend knight,” he called. “We have come a great distance searching for perfection in many forms. Are you the man of which they spoke? Are you The Eldest?”

The man laughed. “I am not who you seek, but I am one of the elder races of man. It is said that I am part god, and that would explain my longevity and my strength and power, but I am yet still a man, and not a true god.”

The Lone Warrior stared at the man for a moment. “Who are you, friend knight? Your story seems familiar.”

“I am known by many names,” the man said. “I was once the most paramount man in all the world, but I passed from that realm, seeking my own perfection, and it has brought me here, where I shall live and die. I used to be called Gilgamesh, and I sought immortality from the man that you now seek. I wanted only to know peace in my own soul, completeness in either godliness or humanity. I found what I sought, and through my arrogance and carelessness I lost it forever. I came back to this place to find it yet again, but I knew in my heart that I had lost it, and it was no fault but my own. I now sit here and wait for death to finally come and take me, but it has not yet, and maybe it never shall, perhaps that is my punishment. I know not.”

The Lone Warrior looked at Gilgamesh with compassion in his eyes. “Be at peace, fellow traveler. May it find you when you least expect it.”

The Three left Gilgamesh upon the beach, and they never did see him again, yet often they thought about him, and what the consequences would be for a taste of perfection.

Angels

And so The Three made their way to the interior of the island and found there a small house in the woods, and it was a beautiful place, full of light and life.

The Three went up to the door of the house and knocked, and when they did a man appearing to be of middle years opened the door. “How surprising,” the man said. “Rarely do I ever get visitors to my house and island. I would be most pleased if you would come inside and have a meal with me.”

The Lone Warrior looked at The Smiling Knight and The Masked Knight. ‘Sir, we have come a great distance, and we were looking for one known as The Eldest.”

The man nodded. “Indeed, that is why most come to this place, but come and have supper with me, it is almost ready, and I think I have enough.”

So The Three went into the house and ate with the man, and after the were done they told the man about their travels and all they had seen and done while continuing their quest. It was a long story and it was very late when they finished, telling of the meeting with Gilgamesh and their reaching the house. “So you see, we were looking for The Eldest, so that we may know where to find our perfection. Do you know where he might be and if he would listen to us.”

The man laughed. “Indeed, I know the answers to both questions and so do you, for I am The Eldest and I have already listened to your story.”

The Lone Warrior stood up. “Then you know why we are here and what we are after. Please, help us finish this quest and tell us where we may find our perfection.”

The Eldest stood up. “I shall show you the way, but be forewarned that it is very perilous, and know that once you go you may never come back.”

The Lone Warrior looked at The Eldest. “We can never go back to the world we knew?”

The Eldest shook his head.

The Lone Warrior looked at both of his companions. “Well, my friends? Shall we give up all that we have known and embrace this new, unknown world?”

The Masked Knight looked at them. “I shall not deny that I am scared at the possibility that I may never see my world again, but if that is the price of our quest, then so be it, I will pay it.”

The Smiling Knight looked at them. “What have I ever had to lose in giving up this world? I shall go as well.”

The Lone Warrior smiled. “It is settled then. We shall all go.”

The Eldest smiled. “Good. We shall leave in the morning. Please get some rest.”

The Lone Warrior and The Smiling Knight went to their beds but the Masked Knight stayed with The Eldest. The Eldest looked at him questioningly.

“I must know,” The Masked Knight said. “Are you truly the one who defied God? And if so how are you human and why are you known to the world as some kind of fiend?”

The Eldest laughed. “Does it matter who I used to be? I did once go by the name of Lucifer, and I suppose you might have called me an angel, but if all that is true then I must be the first human, for it is human nature to want something more, to challenge the greater forces and to succeed or fail, and as far as being a fiend, you might call me that, for in the end I am the one that offers hope to those that wish to challenge the greater forces. I am their rallying point, though they do not know me. Those that use what I was to do atrocious things are ignorant as to what I truly am. I did not want to kill God, I merely wanted to see the limits of my power, to see how far up Olympus I could climb. That is my sin, and I pass on my ambition to all people and offer them hope that it might come true.”

The Masked Knight nodded. “Indeed. In this respect you are everything that God fears.”

The Eldest nodded. “True, but as happens so often those that go against God fall, and I am no exception.”

The Masked Knight nodded and then went to his bed.

Endings

The next morning The Three went with The Eldest to the other side of the island and there they saw a massive ravine that went so far down they could not see the bottom and went off into the distance in either direction so far that none of them could see an end. The water of the ocean fell in a great cascade into the ravine, disappearing into it’s great depth.

The Eldest pointed across the water. “Your destination lies across this ravine.”

The Three stared a long time at the ravine. Then The Lone Warrior turned to The Eldest. “How are we to get across?”

The Eldest smiled. “Faith.”

The Lone Warrior took in these words and in taking them in he knew what he would have to do, and dreaded it. He dreaded it more than any other danger he had yet had to face. He looked at the sword at his side, The Steel Rose. He picked it up, felt it’s weight. It was lighter than it had ever been before. He looked at his two friends, saw that each of them was thinking the same thing and he knew that whatever happened that he was glad to have gone, left the Edge of The World and traveled, searching for more. Thinking of his old home, however, he found that he could call up all the details of it, and he knew deep within his heart that he had loved that place and wished that he could have seen it once more.

The Lone Warrior took The Steel Rose and jumped into the ravine.

After him came The Masked Knight and The Smiling Knight.

Many hours later The Lone Warrior came to in a strange place, his sword gone, his armor removed, lying in a field of grass, looking up into the sky. He sat up and looked behind him. Behind him was a massive ravine with no end. The Lone Warrior looked at this and knew it. This was the Edge of the World.

The Lone Warrior stood up. There, not too far away, was his village, the one in which he had grown up, still looking exactly the same as he had remembered.

The Lone Warrior looked towards the far side of The Edge of The World, thought he could hear the roaring of some massive falls and dismissed it. He stood there for a while, drinking in the beauty of the world he had left so long ago.

“So now you know,” said a voice. The Lone Warrior turned around, and there, sitting in the grass, was The Shadow. “Now you know the fate of he who wears The Steel Blossom, my fate and yours.”

The Lone Warrior smiled at him. “You went to the falls, did you not?”

The Shadow nodded. “Yes, I did, but I had no one with me there. I was all alone, and the weight of The Steel Blossom has never left me. You, however, were not alone, and I see no sword at your side. Your quest is over.”

The Lone Warrior looked at The Shadow. “You mean, had I not been with my true friends I would not have succeeded?”

The Shadow shrugged. “It is a possibility. My own quest is not yet over, yet I have already jumped the falls. I have been to both ends of the world and in the end it is not enough. Truly there is no point in going without friends, this I know. And now you know it, too.”

The Lone Warrior smiled. “Yes, I do know it. The only thing I wonder about, though, is what happened to my friends?”

The Shadow smiled. “They too have gone back to their beginnings, and like you, their weights are gone. You all now share that weight, and so none of you can feel it anymore. You are all free.”

The Lone Warrior smiled with sadness in his eyes. “I shall miss them. I wish we could be together again.”

The Shadow smiled and stood up. “That, my friend, is another story.” And The Shadow turned to The Lone Warrior, and removed his mask and coverings, and The Lone Warrior saw that he knew the face revealed, but he had known it from long ago, and that face had been the face of the Lone Wanderer, and The Lone Warrior could only look as The Lone Wanderer, now The Shadow, replaced his mask and coverings and walked into the field of grass, never to be seen by The Lone Warrior again.

The Lone Warrior turned away. He stood upon The Edge of The World for a few moments and then began to laugh. He laughed until tears ran down his face, and as the sun set he began to walk back towards his village, his beginning, his perfection.

[Doot]

Sperrit, I want you to know that I'm still reading this. I love what I've read so far (but unfortunately I'm only able to in spurts) But I will continue and let you know what I think.