Camp NovMo April 26: Short Stories

Knight Roland the Righteous polished his armor until it shone. He scrubbed at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt until it succumbed, melting away and letting the metal reflect his own handsome face. Knight Roland the Righteous was not one to boast, but occasionally he did think he embodied the knight archetype: tall, strong, willing to jump into danger to serve the greater good.

Finally satisfied with his armor, he stood up from where he'd been sitting by the roadside. By the laws of fairytales and knighthood, it was the perfect time for him to become aware of yet another person in need.

Knight Roland the Righteous stood for a moment, listening to the birds chirping and watching the morning sun filter through the forest beyond the road. Then, right on cue, he heard a shriek. He shaded his eyes gallantly, turning towards the source.

"Ah, another quest to the heart of the forest, I see." Knight Roland the Righteous allowed himself one selfish moment of excitement, then set his face into an appropriately determined expression and strode into the trees.

He was no stranger to this forest, not after saving the kidnapped children three years ago, slaying the dragon two years ago, and most recently, putting out the forest fire. By now, the lesser beasts knew to steer clear of him and his fearsome sword.

Knight Roland the Righteous did not want to complain, but without any monster attacks, it was a rather monotonous morning of trekking through the forest. The shrieks had stopped after about an hour, but by then, he had fixed the direction firmly in his mind, as expected of an experienced knight. Knight Roland the Righteous passed the time by imagining what he would find. Perhaps a maiden taken captive by an orc, or a young child kidnapped by fairies.

The shrieks began again in the afternoon. They were clearer now, and Knight Roland the Righteous thought he could almost detect words in the noise. Pleadings for someone's life to be spared, perhaps? He quickened his pace.

A lonely tower came into view in the late afternoon. Ivy covered the gray stone and it was surrounded by a narrow moat of murky water. Knight Roland the Righteous walked around it a few times, determined that there were no traps, and easily jumped across the moat. He circled the base of the tower, but he could not see any entrances. There was a single arched opening near the top of the tower.

"Hello?" he called. The tower was silent.

Knight Roland the Righteous made another round around the tower, this time tapping the stones, checking carefully for hidden entrances. Finally, he gave up the search, secured his sword across his back, and began to scale the tower. He lifted himself up, one stone at a time.

He found himself almost winded by the time he was able to hoist himself through the opening and into the tower. Knight Roland the Righteous was unable to fully catch his breath before being unceremoniously knocked out.

When he came to, he was face to face with a witch.

Her scraggly black hair stuck out in all directions, and she had a large wart on the side of her nose. Her watery brown eyes examined him like he was a toad in a jar.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" she demanded. Her voice was like metal scraping against stone.

"Ah, so you are the one holding the princess captive," Knight Roland the Righteous declared. He started to reach for his sword, but realized that his hands were bound tightly behind his back. In fact, his entire body was tied to a chair.

"That's what they all think," she scoffed. "May I point out that you are the one trespassing on private property?"

Knight Roland the Righteous paused. "Rescuing an innocent victim takes precedence." He strained against his bonds, but they were strong. It would take him a few minutes to free himself, but thankfully, he had quite a bit of experience in keeping villains talking. "Lovely tower you have. What were your design inspirations?" He listened for any more signs of distress, but there were none. Surely the princess was not dead yet?

The witch looked at him, unimpressed. "I'll only say this once, and we shall see if you're any less dense than the other knights." She crossed her arms. "I am the only one here. My father, the king, banished me here for failing to live up to his expectations."

She reached over to a nearby table and grabbed a tiara. "So yes, I am a princess. No, I cannot sing well. Yes, my attempts at singing are often mistaken for cries for help. No, that does not stop me from singing anyways."

Knight Roland the Righteous simply gaped at her.

She tossed the tiara to the side again and glared at the knight. "Now, goodbye. I trust your head is hard enough to survive a short fall."

Without further ado, she lifted the chair--with Knight Roland the Righteous sitting in it--and strode over to the window. She took hold of one end of the rope, then shoved the chair and the knight out of the tower. The chair twirled in the air as the rope unwound. The rope snapped to its full length a few feet above the ground, freeing and dropping the knight with a clattering of armor. As Knight Roland the Righteous was picking himself up from the ground, the woman in the tower hauled the chair up again.

The next morning, Knight Roland the Righteous returned to the tower. "Hello?" he called.

There was no response. He tried again.

After the tenth greeting, the woman finally responded. "Didn't I banish you from the tower yesterday?" she snapped. Her scowling face appeared at the window.

"I am still not convinced that you are not holding a princess captive," Knight Roland the Righteous shouted back.

The woman's scowl became darker. "I remember you. You're the one who forcibly dragged the children home from camping in the woods with their families. And the one who killed the dragon protecting this forest. You flooded the forest recently as well, didn't you? The wildlife is still recovering. Did you not notice how quiet the forest was on your way here?"

Knight Roland the Righteous paused. Was that truly the reason no monsters had threatened him? He could admit the flood may have been slightly excessive, but... the other incidents... he was the hero, was he not? He stared into the distance, imagining he looked troubled, perhaps like a knight remembering the loss of his comrades.

"Your posturing impresses no one," the woman said dryly.

Knight Roland the Righteous could find no graceful way to respond to that, so he took his leave.

He was back again the next day. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked.

She did not dignify his question with a response.

The day after that, he was quiet for a while when he arrived at the tower. Finally, he said, "My name is Roland."

There was a pause so long that he thought the woman might not respond again. Then the answer: "Corelia."

Roland could not stop a smile from spreading across his face.