Purple Finch Press

Logan Moran-

Come now, sit and listen. It’s about time I tell you about some very important people.

Once upon a time, far long ago from where we stand today. A group of warriors were destined to meet, to face a Queen who was poisoning the minds and souls of her people.

She incited her people to betray each other. She stole the fields of the poor and poisoned the produce that had grown there. She only wished to cause pain for her people and drove them to harm each other. She had taken those who would protect their small villages for her personal army, leaving them defenseless to both beasts and bandits. She had outlawed and destroyed many forms of art and music. Making sure no one could disturb or end her rule.

The kingdom quickly became a hell on earth. No one, not even children, were free from the plague of hatred this queen brought with her. As to make things worse, she had awakened and learned of an ancient magic, one that would extend her life beyond any mortal race, making her rule many years without challenge.

But as I have said, many heroes found themselves at the outskirts of this kingdom. None were aware of the state of the land, nor of each other’s existence. Yet they all shared the same goal. To make sure the people of this world could live and work for a better tomorrow.

From the east was a marksman. A cheeky smile was on his round face as he came to the first of the towns. He wore a vest and an odd hat. He claimed he was an old gunman who was honored as a peacekeeper. To show this, the star he wore on his black vest was the sign of such.

Yet the town he came to had been corroded by crime. Bandits and thieves lay everywhere. Yet the marksmen did not flee, nor did he blame the people. He was aware that this pain they were placing on each other was not theirs to start.

The marksman knew what he needed to do. He showed the people that the crimes they commit are causing pain. How much they hurt each other and themselves. He shared the rules that the lawless East had. The ways they kept each other safe while protecting themselves.

The town started to grow, and as people watched and learned, the crime went down. People learned to trust each other again. Yet the time came that the queen’s right hand came to collect this hero.

The marksman made no fuss. He handed over his revolver and never intended to fight. “The people here have learned to trust again,” he said, “and after knowing as much pain they have put on each other, once they understood they are only hurting each other, they could learn to heal each other as well”.

From the north was a warrior. Small goat horns on his head and a tattered cloak flowing in the wind. Beasts and creatures of the night frequently came down from the mountains. They brought terror and death to all of those around.

The warrior came to this town and sought a night in the inn. He paid fairly, and the people were wary. However, as night fell, the ground started to shake as a many-legged beast came charging towards the town.

Its seven red eyes glowed like lanterns as its screeching call would wake a third of the whole kingdom. It’s many legs having sharp, clawed ends that were tearing up the streets.

Awoken from his sleep, he grabbed his shield and sword. Rushing out of the building, he stood in the middle of the street. Not hesitating to continue its destructive charge. The warrior braced himself as he leaped forward, revealing legs like a large goat. The warrior satyr then bashed his shield into the face of the beast, causing it to stumble. The warrior quickly swung his blade down, cutting along one of the eyes of the beast as it retreated in pain.

The townspeople cheered and wished for him to stay. That he was a noble hero and must be trained as a knight. “But I am not a knight nor a noble,” he said, “I am in fact a peasant. I have even lost the rights to my family name. Only having the name from birth to make my identity. Yet I have seen many brave souls tonight. If you would all wish, I would be happy to teach you.”

Only one agreed at first. Many people still doubting the hero’s truth. But slowly, another joined after seeing their neighbor grow in skill with a blade. Then another joined, learning the bow. Soon, a small group of protectors were well-respected in this town. The beasts of the north no longer were the threat they once were.

Eventually, word got out of the heroic teacher who is neither a knight nor a noble. Simply a peasant with one name. The queen’s right hand came to bring him to the capital to face the consequences of ruining the chaos she adored. “It’s time I leave anyways” he told the townspeople, sad to see their mentor leave. “You have grown to be able to protect each other. You know enough to teach those in the future to defend themselves. And you did it without a penny to your houses,” the warrior ended, leaving with the queen’s right hand. Turning his sword into a shield.

From the south were the sisters. All wise beyond their years. They came upon a poor and sickly town. The queen had ruined the river that ran through the town. Having taken all the craftsmen to make the largest castle filled with the most pristine arts and furniture.

The three sisters each brought their own gifts to the land. The eldest sister was blessed with magic of the world. She stood in a field and raised her hands to the sky. The poisoned lands quickly lost the deep black coloring of rotted plants, while the earthly brown came out for the first time in many long years. 

She reminded the people of the pants they could grow and those that grew on their own. How to harvest, scavenge and hunt. That they may not go hungry for another day.

The second sister was blessed with magic of the heart and body. She tended to the sick and cared for the young who had no family left to do so. She treated everyone the same, no matter their age or wealth. She made sure everyone was cared for. That everyone in this village had a home. She sang songs and told tales of all that she has seen, bringing color back to the dulled town.

She ignited the lost culture and health. While those were sick got better they were then abel to retell the tales from their youth. Reviving the legends that were almost lost.

The youngest sister had studied to learn magic of the mind. She was the intelligent one and helped the people relearn their trades. Giving them the tools to build back the skills the queen refused to let return home to this village.

She knew that once they started to learn, they would never stop. Like dominos one idea will trigger another till the town is filled with the sharpest of wits and the brightest of minds.

The right hand of the queen quickly came to put a stop to them. Yet when he arrived, they were the only people who weren’t doing anything.

“These people almost lost it all,” they explained. “We know that now they again have the tools of their trade, they will work ever harder to make sure they can thrive. All we did was give them the chance to do so. We only made the ground fertile, but they care for the plants. We only tended the sick; they are the ones who were strong enough to hold on. We only showed them the trade; they were the ones to master their arts,” and so they left with the queen’s right hand.

Lastly, from the kingdom itself arose the last hero of our tale. The betrayer of the queen herself. When she had commanded it, her right-hand guard had captured the heroes that were giving people hope. As she requested it, so he did. Yet he had no harmful intentions. He had brought the heroes to the castle and asked his queen what she wished to do to them.

“Tomorrow, they will be executed,” She explained. “Then we will set flames to those towns on the outskirts of the kingdom. The hope that they have brought, it is destroying all the hatred I have built.”

All he could do was bow in respect of her decision. But as night fell, his sleep was restless. He remembered how he caught each of the heroes. None of them had fought him. They had helped the people the queen had hurt. He had never seen the people of this land ever be happy. All he knew was the pain and sorrow the queen sought after. How could he make them return to a painful life? One where neighbors would fear each other’s faces, not knowing if any corner could be their killer. Where beasts would terrorize each night and never let the people rest. Where the people would slowly die, feeling alone and worthless. Where they would have no hope, no future, nothing to make them even feel like they exist.

The answer was he couldn’t. He would rather take his own life than let the people of this landfall any further. He knew he had to end the reign of the queen.

He crept down to the cells and asked the heroes, “You have brought a light to this land. One that had been wrongly taken by the current queen. I have seen you bring order and trust, bravery and protection, drive and knowledge, hope and life back to this kingdom. Yet the queen sees this as a weed and plans to burn the towns you have planted them at. I know I may not be trustworthy as I was her right hand, yet I ask of you, still could you stand against her and save this kingdom?”

The heroes took their weapons and tools as they made a request.

“You said we have brought back hope, but yet you made the choice to let this hope free.” They claimed. “If we are to fight, you should fight with us, and show the people that their heroes were not only of those from other lands, but also the hope coming from within their peers.”

He agreed as they all went to face the queen. Knowing that if they were to wait, the queen would surely tear apart the land in search for them, creating even more destruction. 

They charged through the castle until they finally faced the queen in her own throne room. The heroes were ready and charged right into the fray of the great battle. The warrior leading the charge and holding her attention as she sent several blasts of a dark magic energy at them.

Hearing the sound of the battle, the queen’s guardsmen came rushing in as the gunsmen and the eldest sister held them back. Using a suppressive fire of the rare weapon caused confusion, and the eldest of the sisters raised her hand and used her druidic magic to grow a wall of bark and brambles to stop the guards from entering.

The youngest sister stood as she started a long incantation in hopes to dispel the queen’s magic sustaining her long life, even if just for a moment, as the middle sister, the bard, started her own song to create a magic barrier to protect her sisters and friends.

The betrayer of the queen was not late to join the warrior in the battle with the queen. Taking the opening, the warrior made to strike her in the neck with his sword.

As the youngest sister finished the spell, the queen started to choke and bleed, the hole in her neck causing her great pain as she crumbled down and rapidly aged till she turned to dust.

As the news of her death spread through the kingdom, it had felt like a new dawn. These heroes will not be forgotten any time soon for all that they have done for us. So we share these tales, and can only wonder about what other storys have these heros made for themselves.

Gabe, the marksmen. “Trust breeds trust, and without it, we become fearful and lawless.”

ZADE, the warrior. “Neither birth nor title says what I can do; in the end, it was my work and choices that made me into the warrior I now am.”

Embra, the eldest sister, a druid. “Never be afraid to ask for help, in all time and tales it only gets better by doing so.”

Ascylia, the middle sister, a bard. “Everyone has a story and a song. Make sure to listen, and you will find a life full of joy and entertainment.”

Illra the youngest sister, a mage. “We wont survive if we only focus on what we know as ourselves, it’s what we know together that makes our world thrive.”

Shiru, the former queen’s right hand, a knight. “Even when you have lost all hope, others will share theres. Let them”