A Hero's Journey: Rivalry

     The day dawned bright and early for the kingdom of Meridell. As always, Jeran was already on the training grounds, going through his daily training routine of various passes, steps and strides that kept him in shape and ready for another war – not that he wished for another war, of course. His surroundings were quiet, except for the odd Beekadoodle or Crokabek call, the rustle of a faint breeze through the treetops, and the distant thuds of arrows shot into targets on the other side of the grounds.

     All in all, Jeran’s mind was clear as he parried and struck at invisible opponents. That is, until a flurry of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention – and caused him to pause from his routine.

     Not too far from him, Rohane had also drawn his sword and was practicing on the grass, and the blue Lupe could not help but watch furtively while trying to resume his own exercises at the same time.

     Jeran thought back to Rohane’s initiation in the cellars of the castle – how, with a very deft feint, the white Blumaroo had managed to disarm him and win. He couldn’t remember Sir Reynold teaching him a trick like that from training or their sparring sessions, so it was highly unlikely that Rohane had picked it up from Sir Reynold, his own father.

     I didn’t hold back during the initiation, Jeran thought to himself as he put away his sword to stretch his arms, eyes still on Rohane. I know I didn’t. I knew exactly who I was fighting. The newer knight’s sword moved gracefully as he thrust and swung in one fluid movement after another, in passes and techniques Jeran had never encountered before. But he could not find the precise disarming technique that had cost him the duel.

     He was so intent on figuring out how Rohane managed to beat him that he nearly dropped his sword at the sound of someone’s voice.

     “Morning, Jeran! You must be watching Rohane at work, too.”

     Jeran whipped around to see a cheery striped Kougra with a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over his back.

     “Oh, hi, Oakley. Uh…not really. Just thought I saw a flock of Crokabeks.”

     “I don’t know, you were looking toward his general direction…”

     “Anyway, were you headed for the archery range?”

     Oakley nodded vigorously. “Yeah, what about you? You done with your training routine?”

     The Lupe shook his head. “No, not yet. I’ll join you later.”

     “Great, see you!” The Kougra gave him a wave before walking toward the archery range. Jeran breathed a sigh of relief, only to jump slightly at a second voice.

     “Are you busy?”

     This time, the voice belonged to Rohane, who had sheathed his sword and was staring expectantly at him.

     “What?” Jeran blinked. “Not really. Why?”

     After a moment of hesitation, Rohane answered, “There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

     “What is it?”

     “After my father died, no one returned his gold locket to us. You were my father’s squire, right? Do you have any clue where I could find it?” The Blumaroo frowned slightly. “I wanted to ask about it after Mipsy and I defeated Ramtor, but we were spirited away to Terror Mountain soon after that.”

     Jeran shook his head, one of his ears twitching at the mention of the Bruce advisor. “I don’t know. I remember Sir Reynold removing his locket just before we left to fight Ramtor, but I got called away before I could see where he left it. It wasn’t in his quarters, or in the war room.”

     “But you’re sure, at least, that it might still be here in the castle?”

     “Yeah, I’m sure about that, if he didn’t bring it with him…to his last battle.” After a moment of silence, the blue Lupe stroked his chin in thought. “I could look for it in my spare time.”

     “I want to look for it too.” Rohane set his jaw resolutely. “It was my father’s, which means it belongs to my family now.”

     “I understand,” said Jeran. “With both of us looking for it, we should be able to find it – or find some clues about where Sir Reynold could have left it. I know all of his favourite places here…”

     “So do I. Father always told me and Reuben stories about what he was up to whenever he got called away to the castle.”

     A brief, crooked grin tugged at Jeran’s lips. “Heh, I’m not surprised. Tell you what, we could turn this into a contest and see who can find his locket first. The winner gets to ask the loser for one favour. Well, a reasonable favour. Something they can do.”

     “You mean like the boon from the initiation?” Rohane clarified.

     The Lupe’s grin flickered for a second. “Yeah. Exactly like that. It’ll add a little excitement, right?” He offered Rohane a hand to shake, much like they did for the initiation duel. “What do you think?”

     Reynold’s son needed no further urging and clasped that hand tightly.

     “Deal. I just have one more question.”

     “What?”

     “When do we begin searching?”

     “We can start…right now.”

     The two of them took one look at each other before sprinting back into the castle.

     * * *

     Rohane may have won his initiation duel, but I’m going to win this bet, Jeran thought as he strode through the corridors of Meridell Castle, inspecting the spaces beneath each portrait, painting and tapestry he passed. He even slid his feet over the carpets to make sure the locket was not under any of them and peered into the suits of armour on display. He bit back a curse when he nearly dropped a helmet that was clearly meant for an Ogrin before hurriedly hoisting it back into its place. Sir Reynold liked to walk through this corridor when he was still alive. He said that it felt like these great heroes of Meridell were sending him their wisdom. Or something like that.

     Jeran stopped in front of a tapestry depicting a jousting tournament.

     I could really use some wisdom from these old heroes right now. If Sir Reynold’s locket was not in his study or his quarters, where could it be? He scratched his head before deciding to slowly, carefully lift a corner of the fabric. Unfortunately, all he could see beneath it was a section of wall, unmarked except for a few faded words – “Who is Chet Flash?” – and he relinquished his grip, letting the tapestry slacken.

     “…have to tell us…”

     Jeran paused at the sound of voices coming from the opposite hallway. He followed the conversation and found Rohane standing with Oakley and Tuffold, the burly yellow Lupe. With his back to the wall, he listened in to what they were discussing.

     “I had a lot of help from Mipsy when we chased Ramtor,” Rohane was saying with a shrug. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without her. She always knew how to counter his spells.”

     “But still,” said Tuffold, “the Order couldn’t defeat him or his mobs. After Meridell Castle fell, those of us who weren’t imprisoned in the castle went into hiding, trying to figure out how to get to King Skarl and free him.” He whistled. “And yet, you and a pretty Acara wizard finished the job.”

     “Maybe it’s all part of that big prophecy Rohane was supposed to be a part of,” Oakley remarked. “The one that foretold that he would be the one to lead the liberation of Faerieland from King Terask. I dunno, I heard stuff about it from the seers in central Meridell.”

     The Blumaroo rolled his eyes. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I had so many folks whispering prophecies and stuff while I was travelling. They put a lot of pressure on you.”

     “Prophecy or no, still impressive.” Tuffold snapped his fingers. “That’s that. I mean, not even Jeran could take Ramtor down.”

     From his hiding spot, Jeran scowled at the direction this conversation had taken.

     “Only because he broke his leg during the battle to try and take back the castle,” Oakley pointed out. “While he recovered, he and Lisha had to hide out in Brightvale. It’s too bad he wasn’t around to see you and Mipsy at your big ceremony.”

     “We couldn’t even stick around long enough for me to get knighted and for Mipsy to be offered a position with the court mages,” said Rohane. “We got called away after that to help with Terror Mountain.”

     “News about you two really travelled fast. Imagine, not long after Meridell was freed from Ramtor, you got another job all the way in Terror Mountain.” Tuffold grinned approvingly. “Nice job, hero.”

     “Don’t call me ‘hero’.”

     “Why not? It’s true.”

     “Jeran took it hard, though, when…you know, Sir Reynold died,” said Oakley solemnly. “Obviously, you took it just as hard if not harder, since he was your father and all, but…” The striped Kougra immediately clammed up when Tuffold nudged him discreetly. “A-Anyway.”

     Rohane nodded slowly. “I can imagine. Jeran was Father’s squire, after all. I bet he wanted to avenge his death.”

     Yes, I did, Jeran added to himself, watching as the three knights disappeared around a corner before returning to his search of the locket.

     * * *

     “Jeran was really close to Sir Reynold,” Oakley continued as they strolled through the castle. As they did, Rohane had begun to mentally map out the corridors and areas in the castle that were worth investigating, just in case they were good places to hide a valuable locket.

     “He was almost like a father to Jeran,” Tuffold said. “A big thing, for someone who went time-travelling and all that. Jeran barely talks about his old family, aside from Lisha, who’s here with us.”

     “Oh, yeah,” the white Blumaroo commented absently. His brow furrowed. “I remember Father talking about Jeran a lot, about what they did together, their travels and their battles, how Jeran was the best squire he ever had…”

     “The best squire of one of the best knights in Meridell history,” Oakley declared, holding up his hands as though imagining the words written in huge colourful letters on a banner. “They made a great team, even after Jeran was knighted. Oh, the stories he could tell about all the adventures he had with Sir Reynold. Ooh, ooh, like the time they went after the Cybunny Bandits!”

     “The Cybunny Bandits?”

     “That’s right, a trio of Cybunny brothers who were the scourge of the Meridell marketplace!”

     “I can’t remember if Father ever told me that story…”

     Tuffold chuckled. “That’s a classic. Who would’ve thought Sir Reynold could pass for a hardened rogue of the Thieves’ Guild? Then Jeran and Danner lay in wait to capture those slippery Cybunnies while he managed to smooth talk his way into selling them a gold locket.”

     “A locket?” Rohane repeated, his ears perking up. “Wait, Father didn’t really sell a gold locket, did he?”

     Oakley laughed. “’Course not. That was a fake. But Sir Reynold convinced them that it was real, worth a fortune, rewarded to him by some old noble named Chet Flash.” The Kougra blinked. “Why? You really thought he’d actually sell them his locket?”

     “Wait, you know about that?”

     “It’s one of Meridell Castle’s greatest unsolved mysteries,” Tuffold drawled dramatically, his tail swishing from side to side. “Sir Reynold was rarely seen without it, even carried it into battle for a while before he started leaving it behind to keep it safe. But after his death, no one could find it. Jeran was one hundred percent sure that it wasn’t lost in the struggle against Ramtor.”

     Rohane sighed. “So, neither of you know where it is.”

     “I did say ‘no one’,” the yellow Lupe repeated, shrugging. “I didn’t know your dad as well as Jeran did, so I’m not the one you should be asking about that.”

     “Maybe it’s just somewhere in the castle, hidden all clever-like,” Oakley offered. “We’d help you find it, but as Tuffold said, we have no idea where to start. But we could keep an eye out for anything that’s out of place.”

     Tuffold snorted. “A lot of things are out of place in this crazy place.” He tilted his head toward a spiral staircase that led to one of Meridell Castle’s turrets. “That’s the Southeast Tower. There are rumours that it’s haunted, but Jeran didn’t let that stop him when Sir Reynold was searching for an old ornamental sword that belonged to his grandfather, Sir Desmond – who, of course, is your great-great-grandfather, hero.”

     But before Rohane could object to being called “hero” again, Oakley continued, with a theatrical sniff. “You never did see a Kacheek as strong and brave as old Sir Desmond the Dashing.” Then he cleared his throat. “Anyway, Jeran was a squire back then, they said he ran up those steps and into the haunted tower room to grab that dusty, fancy sword. Sir Reynold was so impressed that he asked the kitchen staff to prepare a special dinner in celebration, because he had really wanted to find Sir Desmond’s sword. But I bet you already knew this story, right, Rohane?”

     “What? Oh…right, right, the story about my great-great-grandfather’s old sword.”

     “It’s now on display somewhere downstairs, we wouldn’t have been able to find it without Jeran,” said the striped Kougra proudly. “Practically a national treasure, that thing.”

     “Speaking of national treasures, remember the time Jeran and Sir Reynold were sent to find the – “

     “Sorry, but I think I’ll start searching for my father’s locket now,” said Rohane, shaking his head. “I’ll talk to you two later, maybe at lunch, okay?”

     Without waiting for either Oakley or Tuffold to answer, the white Blumaroo turned on his heel and walked quickly away.

      To be continued…