Prologue

It was pitch black, and there was nothing to be heard in the dark night. There was a figure sitting cross-legged in the air, meditating as if there were something on their mind. And there was: a command from their maker.

“There was a realm called Boncoro, and the residents thereof were simple people. Ruled by a fair queen and her husband, they prospered. The land itself was rich and green, reflecting the culture of the people that lived there. Their royal land was named Ilian, and the Ilia were named its people.”

The land around the figure became bright and sunny, with flourishing trees and small animals noisily chattering, as if they’d been there all along. The figure stayed a shadow despite the sunlight flooding onto them.

“As there is light, there must also be darkness. Legends and stories were told of a fierce being who would come to destroy them, for it sought the power they had. In older times, this being had walked the earth freely; it targeted prosperous plains and had left ruins in its wake. A hero was born, or made in such circumstances; the hero fought the beast into submission and trapped it beneath many layers of earth. But the being fought back, and the hero was slain.”

“Even now, it fights its way back to the surface. The earth quakes above it when it digs, and volcanoes burst like ruptured veins within the ground. But a new hero rises as well, a hero that might fight back for the sake of her people.”

The earth shakes beneath the figure, and they do not move. 

“Once upon a time, this realm existed.”

The figure disappeared, leaving no trace.

Chapter 1

I never believed in all our fairy tales, the stories fathers crooned to us when we were all in bed. I never played make-believe stories with my friends as our parents tilled the soil or hunted. When they’d come home, they wouldn’t bother regaling me with fantasy; they knew I would ignore it, and ask about their days’ work. I was a no-nonsense sort of child.

There was one story they loved. They’d both loved it as children and they’d tried to tell it to me. Alas; it was a story, and I was not one for those.

But as I stand over the body of a monster slain by me, staring, looking around in the stupor of one who has been wrong their whole life and has no reconciliation, I know:

The Narrator is one legend that’s real.

I walk home, senses regained but still feeling shock. I set my wood ax and its sheath at the stoop of the door, as well as the sword I hadn’t noticed I was still carrying until now. Another tip from the Narrator? I shake my head, letting the tangled lengths resettle in more correct places. As I walk in the door, one of my little brothers notices the sword I set outside, uncleaned from using it earlier.

“Hey, where’d you get that?” He asks, no less confused than I am. 

“Later,” I tell him as I sit down, tired from the exertions of the day.

We sit to eat, Mother sitting at the head and Da to her right. We leave an empty seat for Ferrin, the eldest of us, on her left. We know she won’t be coming, but it is a habit at this point. I sit beside the empty seat, as I always do. My older brother sits across from me and my younger brother sits at the foot of the table. He is bouncing in his seat, itching to hear what I have to say.

The meal starts silent. When you live for long periods of time with little food you learn your priorities. Da, as usual, breaks the silence. “I’ve heard from Aspen you have something that doesn’t belong to you.” He stares at me.

I stand and clear my throat. “I’ll be right back.” I walk outside to grab the sword. 

There it is. The Narrator. 

The wispy figure stands over the sword, leaning down with shadowy hands to pick it up. I let out an involuntary shout, and from the clattering inside I know my family heard me. The shadow lifts its head up, empty gray eyes wide, and in a whisper of words I find myself in the air, unable to move. At this time, my mother is in the doorway, silhouetted by candlelight in our home. She sees the Narrator.

“Roan, what did you do?” She asks, her voice tinged by an emotion I’d not known her to have. I ignore her.

“What do you want from me?” I shout at the figure, who refuses to meet my eyes. My father comes over to me. I am stuck in the air.

“Please release her. I apologize for anything I might have done to cross you.” My mother apologizes to this thing? I continue my struggle only to find the force holding me back is gone; my father is now holding me from the shadow. I still pull away, though now in the direction of our home.

“I’ll find out, one way or the other!” I shout at the figure, who has now picked up the sword and is standing there. It raises its head. 

My eyes meet its eyes, and a chill rolls down my spine.

“An old threat comes back to this world, and only the fated hero can save it. This hero is you, and you’ve known it all along.” A soft, unearthly voice emanates from the shade, and I am unsure whether it is speaking or telepathically broadcasting its thoughts. A feeling rises up in me, sudden but as if I’d always felt it. 

I’ve been having this feeling of unease, of a self-righteous anger swelling up in me. There is something wrong, and I must stop it.

The words of the figure seem to have an affect on everyone. My family looks at me with new pride, but also some fear. What have they heard from the Narrator’s words? The Narrator breaks eye contact, and I feel my anger at it once more. Whatever happens from this point on is its fault.

“What have you done to me?” I whisper. I feel different. I feel lost now, unguided in the storm that is this life I live. It does not answer. It is gone, and I feel the weight of a weapon on my belt. I look down to see the sword, cleaned and perfectly situated on my right for my left-handed swing. I pull it out slowly, feeling the comfort of the hilt in my hand.

“Roan, you’re wrong,” my father looks at me with the new look in his eyes. “That sword is yours.” 

Chapter 2

We sit around the hearth, watching the blazing fire within. Meals forgotten, they stare at me, minds ensconced in the fantasy tale that was my afternoon.

“The creature was coming at me, both canine mouths snapping. I was surprised because I thought it was a bear until it showed itself. I staggered back with my back to a tree. I was going to die when I felt the hilt of this,” I gesture down to the sword hanging off of me, “in my hand. I felt it there and I started fighting. I knew suddenly how to fight with the sword and I drove the creature back with ease. After I cut both heads off and stabbed it in the heart, it died. I looked around me, for I was confused at my sudden skill.” I grimace. 

“There was no one there, save for that accused shadow.” My mother coughs, and I glance at her.

“Roan, you shouldn’t speak of the Narrator like that.” She glares at me. 

“And why not? All my life I have known of the legends and fairy tales; Da would never stop telling them to us. And I did not believe him, for such things defied the laws of rationality. Now I am almost killed by a creature from nightmares, and the only cause I can see is this stranger. Shouldn’t I be angry? It’s you who should as well.”

She waits for me to stop ranting. 

“The Narrator saved your life. How do you think you suddenly knew swordplay? How do you think you suddenly had a sword, specifically fitting your left hand?”

I fell silent, taking in the wisdom of her words. “Then why did it save me?” I ask.

No one has an answer to that question.

My father clears his throat. “You should go to bed, my children. We can address this tomorrow, when the sun is up.” My older brother starts to argue, but I’m already walking into our room. I had a long day, regardless of what had happened in it. I fall face first into my pillow, not bothering to take off my clothes. Something tells me I’ll be needing them soon.

I stand in that field again, facing the two-headed thing from earlier. I have no weapons this time, and I cringe as I know it will crash into me and kill me painfully. Nothing happens for a while, and I open my eyes. It’s frozen in my dream, and I look around to see the cause. I should have known.

It’s here. It’s in my dreams, even.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” I don’t yell this time. I just want an answer, and shouting didn’t work last time. “Why are you here?” 

The scenery changes to a mountain range, peaceful and quiet. I can hear birds and squirrels in the trees, and some focus is laid on a small caterpillar inching its way up a leaf. 

“I like how you think this is an answer.” I sarcastically remark, only to feel the ground beneath me shake. I make a mental note to not make the Narrator mad when it controls my brain. But it isn’t the Narrator’s fault. 

The mountains start to shake as we are both tossed off our feet. The ground is bucking and rolling like an angry bull, and the cause, as I somehow know, is right underneath us.

We go flying as the earth beneath the mountains cave in, and the Narrator and I float over the scene. There is a dark chasm where I can distinctly see the mountains falling.

“What’s happening?” I look over at the Narrator, who doesn’t answer. I turn my head back to the scene. The chasm is closing rapidly. It has--

“Teeth?” Bewildered and afraid, I try to close my eyes. They don’t respond to my commands. The Narrator wants me to watch this, for reasons I am beginning to surmise.

A vermicular creature crawls out of this cavernous hole, and the terror inside me at this sight would fill the hole it came out of. We watch it slide away, glacier-like in the way it pushes trees aside or crushes them beneath its oozing mass. It is purposeful in its movement, as if it is searching for something. With surprising speed, it locks onto its target and changes course accordingly. 

As we follow it, my surroundings get a bit more familiar.

“No,” I breathe.

I can see the castle in the distance, and before it, all of civilization on the southern side. It crushes lives, kills families and children, all just to get to the castle. I can’t close my eyes, and I see it kill my family.

“No!”

They stand in its shadow and it crushes them in its hunger. Tears stream down my face as the Narrator forces me to see an unstoppable creature bore its way to the heart of my land. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” I whimper, for such is the only thing I can do. “If I am all that is left, then why am I here? Why do you torture me so?”

There is no answer. The figure is silent.

“Answer me, goddamn you!” I yell again, trying to understand the methods to its madness.

The Narrator has released me, but now I can’t help but watch with morbid curiosity. What is it searching for that’s so important as to snuff out so many lives? 

It towers over the castle, and I see our Queen standing on a balcony. She looks up, and I trace her glance. She looks at the moon. In this dream, it is full. The creature rears back and comes down over the castle, eating it. 

Chapter 3

I wake up to my brothers holding down my arms.

“Roan! Calm down, it’s just a dream.” I hear my mother’s voice. I feel Da’s meaty hands holding down my legs. I stop thrashing, and they let go. My father hugs me. 

“Come now, tell us what happened when you were asleep.” She commands, and I have no choice but to obey. I tell them of the Narrator, of the mountains, of the creature that killed them and ate the castle. I tell them of watching their last moments, of my being forced by the Narrator to keep my eyes open. I am shaking, tears running down my face in a stream.

“And it never told me why I had to watch this, or why it showed me. I thought it was real until I noticed the moon.” My mother flinches.

“What was wrong with the moon?” She asks.

“Well, it was full and tinged a bloody red color.” Her face, along with my father’s, goes pale.

“There was one story we never told y’all.” Da begins, and my brothers sit down. I narrow my eyes, looking at him. Now was not the time for more stories. 

He makes eye contact with me and continues on anyway. “There was a man named Balifor who used to live in Ilian. He was an honest man, a smith if I remember correctly. He was open to everyone, and everyone loved him. But there came a time where the people of Ilian were afraid. There was someone among them who was not of the right mind. This madman went off into the woods one day, and did not return. Some were happy; there was nothing to fear from him if he was not there. Some just did not care. And some, like Balifor, had a feeling that there was something going on.” My father pauses to drink some water and shivers.

“There was, in fact, something up. Not long after the madman had left, the Narrator came into the town. They came to Balifor, and showed him a vision: Ilian in ruins, and a vast majority of the Ilia dead, crushed or just gone. The full moon illuminating this scene was blood red. He tried to ask the Narrator what had happened, and they gave him two images: the madman, and an enormous worm of unimaginable proportions. When he woke again, he was in a wooded clearing, garbed in armor and armed with a sword. He knew what he’d been tasked with. He hunted down the madman, who’d summoned the beast from some dark netherworld, and found there was no way to send the worm back. He’d have to kill it. But he was not able to kill it. He was only able to trap it, and died during the process.”

I stop him. “And you’re saying that this is not a myth. You’re saying this worm is from that time, and is unable to be destroyed? And what, the Narrator thinks I can kill it?” I start laughing nervously. “This is ridiculous.”

“But does this match with your dream?” He trembles, already knowing the answer.

I shudder at the mention of the dream. 

It matches up perfectly.

Chapter 4

I can’t sleep the rest of the night. I keep twitching, itching to do something. Stupid Narrator; how was one person to do this? Wouldn’t an adult be much more suited to do this? I am still a child; my curly locks dangle meekly in front of my eyes.

I can’t do this.

I stand from the bed and fix it from my struggles earlier in the night. I walk down the creaking stairs as quietly as possible and go into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. I didn’t remember, after the fiasco that was just a few hours before, to eat my food. I start to bite into an apple only to feel a sack at my shoulder, heavy with harvested food. They aren’t kidding; it is time to go.

Should I say goodbye to my parents and my brothers? They’d want to know I was being forced to go. I start into the parents’ room, which is on the first floor of the house we live in. And suddenly--

I’m in a forest clearing. With armor tailored to my stature.

“Oh, just fuck you then!” I shout at the sky. I give up trying to stop it. I know it can hear me.

But now, I won’t even get a chance to see my family again before I die. 

I don’t know which way to go. I was given a vision and such, but I kind of forgot all the pertinent details when I saw my ‘adversary’ swallow my family along with the rest of the kingdom. I just figure I should start in some direction. I start walking, trying to keep my mind off my suicide mission and my family. Being that’s all I really have to think about, I can’t get them out of my mind.

What are they going to do about this? I guess they can’t really do anything, but it was still horrid to think they would have to sit idly by while I died. I won’t be able to do this by myself, so what’s the point of dying alone?

Other people materialize around me. It’s not my family, just some random people. They don’t look very confused, especially for being plopped down in a forest suddenly. I curse. Way to get more innocent lives murdered earlier on, asshole. The random people frown at me.

“Hey, I’m a bit lost. Do any of you know where all the earthquakes are coming from? I need to go there.” One girl, about my age and stature, looks to the right of where I’m going.

“Sure, it’s over there. Do you want me to show you?” Well, whoever she is, she’s certainly very helpful.

“Yes! I mean, if you don’t mind. I’m Roan.” She smiles as she takes my hand and shakes it. 

“That’s where I was heading before all this; it’s not a problem.” 

We start off, and then I remember the other people behind us. I look back, and none of them are there. Another stupid trick from magic. “Let’s go.”

We’ve been walking a while and I’m starting to get pretty tired when she stops. “If you don’t mind stopping, I’m getting kind of bushed. What do you say to us staying here for a rest?” I nod gratefully and set my stuff around the small clearing we’re in. 

It’s surprisingly comfortable in the grass, with the bits of sun filtering through the leaves warming my body in the northern winds blowing through the area. After I take a couple bites from an apple in my bag, I look over at her.

“Whenever you’re ready.” She says, echoing my thoughts. I pack my stuff back up and we trudge on into the wilderness.

Chapter 5 

The trees are swaying in the wind and the birds are still here, twittering along the trail. It’s very peaceful here, and quiet from the stress of life; I could almost forget my impending doom.

Almost.

“So, why’re you going this way?” She shrugs in response. Her light boots crunch twigs and leaves on the ground.

“Something’s happening, and I need to go to it. I have to.” She lets the answer hang. I guess we technically don’t really know each other; we only met a few hours ago. Then she looks at me. “Why’re you out here, a girl clad in shining armor? You look like a knight.” She smiles, only to see my somber eyes. 

“You’d think I was crazy.”

She laughs loudly and abruptly, like a bark from a dog. “Try me.”

“Your loss then.” I look around for the accursed shade; apparently I’m not supposed to diss it whenever it’s around. I mean, if the thing’s omniscient, then isn’t that always? Whatever. I ducked under a low-hanging branch. 

“An idiotic and omniscient shadow decided that I could beat a giant evil worm that would otherwise swallow my entire kingdom. With just a sword. And so, it teleported me out here before I could even say goodbye to my family, not to mention it being in the middle of the night when it did it.” She looked back at me.

“Have you checked the sword over? Maybe there’s a clue. Something omniscient probably wouldn’t be that stupid. Then again, there’s always idiocy that comes with power.” She smiled a little smile. “Plus, wouldn’t saying goodbye to your family kind of be sad, or maybe disheartening?” 

I hadn’t really thought of it that way. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I looked her over thoughtfully. “You know, I think you’re smarter than it.” She looked down at herself. 

“Who, me? I doubt it.” She stops in her tracks and carefully takes an elongated step over where she was going to step. I look at her. “There was a trail of ants going through there. I’d rather not bother them if I can help it; I’ve bothered too many people already.” 

Huh. I shrug. “Good eyes, too.” I didn’t see anything in the leaf litter. We kept walking, the light clanking of my armor working as a metronome.

We alternate hours of walking with small sitting breaks until the sun lowers on the horizon. “I guess we should stop here for the night?” I look over at my companion, who looks slightly disconcerted. “Everything okay?” I ask. She worriedly looks around us, then at the sky.

“I’d rather get there sooner--I mean, if you don’t mind, that is. I’m supposed to be there by the full moon.” I flinch. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I look around the clearing and we set off again; the symphonies of crickets, frogs, and owls keeping us company. I look at the moon, just over half is shown. One more week.

Chapter 6

There’s dawn light illuminating the sky, backlighting the mountains perceivable in the distance. The moon is rendered invisible by the light of the oncoming sun, and the birds start to sing again. As we get closer to the target, we have to stop for earthquakes.

I fall to my knees once more. “No wonder this thing needs to be killed, it’s an intolerable nuisance for hikers!” I try to make a joke in light of the situation, but my partner doesn’t answer; she doesn’t appear to be listening. I go over to her and set a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be fine. We’ll get there in time.” She looks at me, a hint of desperation--and something else--in her eyes. 

“We have to.” And she says nothing else.

My armor clanks less as time goes on, as if it were tired of being so loud. On the other hand, I seem to feel it less; I guess walking around with steel plates across one’s body stimulates muscle growth. I fidget with the hilt of the sword as we walk; it’s not ornate, but the metal of the hilt elegantly twists to a halt at the bottom of it, and at the crosspiece it flourishes into a decoration like a flame, or some kind of blooming plant. I go over a fallen tree, and something falls off of it.

I turn around to find it, and she stops and looks back at me. “What’re you looking for?” She starts looking around in the tall grass. 

“You know the sword?” She nodded. “Something just fell off of it.” I feel the sword twitch in my hand, and I look down to see it glowing. I realize it’s on fire.

“Aah!” I toss the sword on the ground where it smolders out. I’m just lucky the sword didn’t light the entire forest on fire. My companion runs over with the piece that fell out. I look for where it fell out of, and there’s a small hole straight through the frame that fits it perfectly. It’s near where my pointer finger would be when brandishing it.

“Magical sword, huh? Try the other buttons.” She looks at me expectantly; she doesn’t look shocked at all. I gingerly pick up the sword and look for any other pieces that could come out. Sure enough, there’s another right beside it. I poke it out with my thumb. Nothing happens, and I look around for any affect. 

“Wow, this one doesn’t--” I wave the sword around and, suddenly, vines sprout from the ground.

“I like this one better.” She says as I continue to wave the sword around in amazement.

We keep walking after I sheathe the magical sword with both plugs back in it. The sun is high in the sky when she says, “let’s take a rest.” I’m still tired from the day before, so I start to doze off. A shadow covers my closed eyelids. “Hey, maybe you should practice a bit.”

“Practice what?”

“Using the sword?” Oh. My puzzled face opens in recognition.  

“I guess so,” I grumble and walk into the forest. 

It was cool and all, but what could I do with vines? I don’t want to practice something with fire in the forest, but the vines seem a bit useless. I hear a rustling behind me, something deep in the undergrowth is moving with great speed. I pull out the sword and turn to meet it: it’s another monster like the one before. 

I yell in surprise and start to run at it, no plan in mind. But this one is smarter than the other one, and bashes me to the side with one head. I spin dizzily to the right. At least this time I have armor. 

I press the plug out of the fire socket, and hold the sword in front of me. Yeah, don’t mess with me, motherfucker. But it doesn’t catch fire. The creature comes at me, bear-like claws outstretched in a massive downswing. Even if the sword isn’t on fire, I need to do something. I bring up the sword to counter the blow.

The creature is wrapped by a vine that sprouts from the ground, and I realize what I did; I pressed out the wrong button. I run to the side as the creature’s weight brings it stumbling forward on three paws. Then, I have an idea. 

I jump onto the creature’s back, sword outstretched. I don’t cut into it. I jump off the other side, and turn around to see a giant vine holding the thing down. For good measure, I make a few more cross its back and chest. I hear my friend running  towards me. She breaks out of the woods and into the clearing. Her chest is heaving. “What the hell is that?” She looks at my attacker. 

“That’s the second weird dog bear thing I’ve ever seen. I’m actually not very sure what it is, but I had to kill the last one.” She looks thoughtfully at it. 

“It doesn’t seem like it would regularly be so ferocious.” I laugh. “No, seriously. Look at the faces; they aren’t actually made for tearing up stuff.” I look at some of the teeth sticking out of the nearest head’s overbite. They are a bit dull, I guess.She flicks something I hadn’t noticed before: a collar.

“Did the other one you killed have something like this?” She looks at me intently. I think about it. 

“Yeah, actually, I think. What about it?” She reaches around the restrained head to reach the collar; the jaws snap at her. She fumbles with the latch. I realize what she’s doing. “You know, that might not be such a good idea.” She gets one off, then the other.

“Try to release it.” I look at her, incredulous.

“Did you see this thing earlier?” I ask. “Do you want to die?” She looks at me, irritated.

“I know what I’m doing. Release it.” I acquiesce, and I look at the sword. 

“I’m going to try something real fast.” I say quickly, and before she can argue, I focus enough to telekinetically move the vines off the beast. I look at my handiwork. “That’s useful.” I guess I don’t have to run on its back next time. The creature lays there, one head looking at me and the other at her. She’s staring intently at it, but speaks to me.

“Go back to the camp.” 

“If you say so. Want me to leave the sword with you?” She shakes her head. It’s an authoritative command, but seeing what all she’s done for me I don’t mind it. I start to walk back through the underbrush to our ‘camp’. I hear something behind me, but I keep walking.

She’s a bit strange, isn’t she?

Chapter 7

I’ve only been there for a few minutes when I hear her tromping back in the leaves.

”Ready to go?” She asks. I hand her the bag she’d been carrying; she hadn’t unpacked it when we stopped for a break. 

“I guess so, as long as we get to sleep a bit tonight.” She blanches, then her cheeks light up like hearths.

“Sorry, I hadn’t thought about it. We will tonight, for sure.” I laugh at her reaction.

“It’s fine. Say, you really are embarrassed. It’s not a big deal.” She doesn’t answer, merely looks up at the sky and sighs. 

We’ve been walking awhile when I ask her about the creature. “So, what did you do? And how’d you know about the collars?” She looks at me and shrugs.

“I’ve always been good with animals, less so with humans.” She paused, then realized she’d stopped talking. “But the real important question is, who is putting those collars on the creatures, and why?”

“They want the animals to be aggressive, I guess. Maybe they’re attracted to shiny things?” I tap the armor and chuckle. “Anyway, I have a feeling we’ll find the culprit soon.”

The moon climbs higher into the sky, waxing gibbous over the quiet night. A couple of hours earlier, the birds had grown quiet. The crickets no longer serenade us and no frogs croak low bass tones to compliment them anymore. I look to the moon, rising in the evening sky. It’s visibly fuller. She stops and looks around.

“I’ll take first watch,” she says, and I’m too tired to disagree. I pull another apple out of the bag. I don’t think we’d harvested this many apples before I left; I consciously wonder where all the apples are coming from before I pass out.

There it is. 

Not the Narrator, but the giant grub-like monster. It’s writhing on the ground, flailing spasmodically, looking for what woke it.

“Hello there, little fellow,” A giant shadow is cast over me and the grub; I turn to the voice and look up at a gigantic man towering over us. He doesn’t seem to notice me. One massive hand scoops up the worm and lifts it up into the air, and I float up with it. I watch the man put the little worm into a jar sitting on a wooden table. There is a broken-down house behind him. “Ya can’t wait, can ya?” He chuckles as the worm looks for food inside the jar. It finds something, and ingests it.

And then, it grows larger.

I step back, through the glass wall of the jar, and look up at the man again. He’s clapping, smiling in approval. He sighs with happiness. “And they thought I was crazy, didn’t they? But no. I knew my dream was true, I knew you were out here somewhere, waiting for me to make my premiere achievement, my ascendency to scientific greatness!” The grub is messing with the jar. He looks back down at it. 

“Oh, no. You can’t get out of there; there’s nothing else for you to eat!” He smiles again, but this time it fades. His specimen is eating the jar. “No! Oh no you don’t!” He doesn’t grasp the situation: the worm could eat anything.

And it’s going to.

The jar shatters as the grub furiously ingests it, growing each time it swallows. It’s the size of his arm when he grabs it, trying to get it to stop eating. He holds it in the air. It turns and eats his forearm. “Aargh!” He screams in pain and drops the grub, which slithers away, eating grass, dirt, and insects on the forest floor. It starts eating bushes around trees, then small saplings before it oozes out of sight.

Out of his sight at least. I am attached to the thing somehow, and float along with it, watching its sinister growth. And then, there’s a rustle in the bushes. The grub turns around, now the size of a house.

There was a man in shining armor there, with a sword brandished and a shield on his left arm. He looks at the thing and breathes in a worried breath. He knows how dangerous the thing is. He raises his sword, and--

“Balifor, no! You can’t kill it!” The man from earlier has come running up, staunching his bleeding with his shirt wrapped around the stump of his arm. “It’s my ticket back into the Academy!” 

Balifor looks over at the man. “Brother, I promise you: this wretched thing will take you only to the ruin of the kingdom. Give it up! The people in the village think you are insane, a madman! Do not unleash this thing upon the world, for I’ve seen what happens if you do! It is chaos and madness, and then it is nothing.” The man laughs dryly in response. 

“I am doing what I’ve been told. I am right; I do only what I have been told. By following the Narrator’s instructions,  I, Benifor, will help the kingdom!” This arrogance leads to his anger, but that isn’t the important part. 

The Narrator was the one who actually unleashed the thing? I turn around, looking for the spectre in the vision. It isn’t here. “Narrator!” I yell, enraged. “What is the meaning of this?” There is no response. 

“Show yourself!” I bellow.

I wake.

Chapter 8

There’s no one around me. My companion is there, standing alone, without her pack. She looks at me, worried and ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. ”I fell asleep on watch.” I shake my head.

“It’s not you.” I say slowly, looking at the sky. I feel like the Narrator is trying to tell me something, but there’s no reason I should believe it now. I stand up, pacing. She lays down, seeing that it was actually my watch anyway. “Next time, you can wake me up when you feel tired. I probably won’t be getting much sleep the next few days anyway.“ She nods silently and closes her eyes.

Why would the Narrator do something like that? Unleash terror, only to find someone to combat it. And with a set of brothers, not just random people. It makes no sense. I look up at the stars as I think. The definition of insanity, after all, is doing something over again, expecting a different answer. I’ve been yelling at it for too long; maybe I can reason out what it’s doing without asking it directly.

I chuckle. According to my parents, to think of it was to invoke its name, to bring its attention to me and my thoughts. I continue; what else am I to do?

Eventually, morning comes. I stretch my achy muscles as she wakes up, bolting straight up. She looks at the sun, which is over the mountains already. “We need to go.” She’s acting all twitchy. She stands quickly and grabs her bag, which she hasn’t bothered to unpack.

“Hey, you need to eat some food. I haven’t seen you eat a bite the entire time we’ve been together. Do you have food, or do you need some of mine?” I hold up another apple. She cringes. 

“I don’t need food. Thanks, Roan. I appreciate the worry, but I’m just concerned I won’t make it in time. Are you ready to go?” I nod silently. Whatever’s wrong with her is pretty serious. I shoulder my pack and we start off again. I look at her face. She looks so worried, so much more serious than when we first met each other. Was it me then? Did I make her upset? “It’s not you.” She says, so perfectly natural as a response that I stop and turn to her. 

“How did you do that? Are you psychic or something?” My shock surprises her until she realizes she had spoken earlier in response to my thoughts. Then she flushes bright red, trying to come up with some kind of answer. She looks me in the eyes.

“If I tell you, you’ll hate me. So I’m not going to tell you.” She stares at me, resolute, until I shrug and continue on. 

“It’s cool.”

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll tell you one day.” She looks back to our destination. Our surroundings look a bit more familiar, and when I look around, I can see the coverage over the original carnage. I look up, and the mountains are so much closer than before. 

“Hey, I think we’re here.” I look around for the old, broken-down house. “So where’d you need to get to?” She looks at me, a slight bit of bittersweet humor in her eyes. 

“Right here,” her voice trembles with sadness. I look around the woods for tattered brick, oblivious of her voice’s pitch. Sorry, I’m just not good at emotions. I find an old pile of bricks.

“Hey! I found the--” I turn back to see the Narrator behind me. 

“What do you want now?” I look into the cold gray eyes, sad eyes filled with longing. It touches me.

Chapter 9

The worm is here, and so are Balifor and Benifor. Benifor stands back in horror as he realizes his mistake. Balifor takes a step forward, and his sword combusts into flame. The grub wails, an inhuman scream of pain against the heat of the burning blade. The sword cuts into the worm, and Balifor separates the head from the body. 

“I’m sorry, Benifor. I couldn’t let it kill us all.” 

Benifor crouches on the ground, moaning. 

“Why has my life been ruined?” He screams, much like the worm did. “I’ve been ruined; my life is a cautionary tale against all! What is left for me?” Balifor kneels on the ground beside him, comforting him. 

“Brother, you can still return. Science isn’t everything, and you still have me and my family.” The grown man sobs in response, no longer listening.

But his remorse and his anger steels into something else. “I am an outcast. All that is left of me is corrupted!” He waves the stump of his arm in the air.

“All I am now is wrath!”

Balifor steps back from his brother, confused. “Benifor, what are you saying?”

He looks his brother in the eyes, but there’s nothing left of his mind to look into.

“I was the chosen one, but now, I’ve been forsaken. Of course it was to be you, my darling brother. Why should anything but brawn succeed in life?” He laughs spasmodically, trying to take in air. “All I want now is vengeance! All that is left of me is my own tool to fight back...” He trails off, looking right where I am.

“And what are you doing here? Have you come to console me too?” I look down at my body, I look normal. “I’m going to tear your spectral body limb from limb for using me.” I feel something go through my body, and I see the Narrator floating in front of me again, only it’s looking at Benifor.

“Do you really want this?” Balifor asks, looking between his brother and the spectre hovering in front of me. Benifor smiles straight at the Narrator, ignoring his brother.

“Of course I do! It’ll be just like old times.” The Narrator murmurs words under its breath.

Benifor’s skin ripples, widening into another worm. This one is larger than the other, but Balifor doesn’t hesitate. He ignites his sword and runs at the beast, who is heading for Ilian.

”Hey, asshole!” I yell at the receding shadow. It comes back. I can’t hold myself back. I punch it in the face. It flies across the forest floor, and I am back where I was before the vision. I walk over to the being, who has floated back into a standing position. I punch it again, and it slides across the ground. Before it can get up again, I kick it. I beat into it, and it stays curled on the ground. It doesn’t retreat; it doesn’t move except for when I kick it. 

Something feels wrong. 

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I yell, enraged. This thing caused all of the bad things that had ever happened in everyones’ lives, and it has nothing to say?

“Why?” I roar. It flinches, expecting another blow. When I do nothing, it laughs.

The voice starts out low and quiet, and filled with pain. 

“You think I like doing this. You think I like manipulating people into hurting, killing, maiming, and ridiculing each other?” The voice raises in volume and anger. 

“I don’t like being a pariah of fear! I don’t want to be this thing, this evil shadow everyone sees and fears! But not everyone has a choice.” 

It locks eyes with me. “Not everyone gets to be the hero. Not everyone gets to dictate what happens in lives such as yours or mine. Can’t you feel it? Something in the air, something warped and wrong? Can’t you feel the pressure, the Author on our backs? Why am I called the Narrator?”

And suddenly I am standing over her. My companion. 

“Because I am a slave to the Author’s whims.”

I stagger back from it. All along, the Narrator has been trying to help me. “I--” I gasp. It looks at me.

“Go back to your family, Roan. Spend what time you will have with them; it is not the worm that will be destroying this place. I didn’t know, not until now. Not until this story turned.” I look around. 

“Story?”

She laughs a raspy laugh, her face coated in tears and greyish blood. “Ever wonder why you hate stories?” I lean in to hear her better. 

“That was my special touch.”