Illusen, the Knight, and the Value of Prudence

     More importantly, she wondered if the floating fortress would return to where it came from. Considering the presumed vacuum in its leadership and the truce it now had with Meridell, it was presently unlikely to be a threat, but the memories of seeing her precious Glade blasted into rubble and dirt were still fresh. She just didn’t want to have to rebuild and repair all over again.

     The earth faerie knelt in front of her young flowers, smiling as she whispered a spell to encourage them to bloom and imagining that she was directing those words to her Glade as a whole.

     “Excuse me, Lady Illusen? If I may…”

     A shadow fell over her and her flowers; she looked up and saw a sturdy yellow Blumaroo in armour obscuring her view of the Citadel. A regulation sword was strapped to his waist, he carried a sizable pack and a bedroll on his shoulders, and he bore a shield with the Meridellian colours and a coat of arms of a sword crossed with a flaming torch.

     “Sir Reynold?” Illusen stood up and smoothed out her skirt. “What brings you here? Are you on official duty?”

     “I was passing through, and hoped that…” He glanced at her Glade. “That you wouldn’t mind taking in a tired traveller for a few nights.”

     Taking in travellers, especially the civilians, the sick and the injured, was much of what Illusen did before her Glade was destroyed. But it was something she was more than happy to do, whether it was wartime or not.

     “I don’t mind at all,” she said, sweeping an arm toward her treehouse – painstakingly rebuilt, but once again standing strong within the foliage shading her abode. “Please, make yourself at home.”

     “Is anyone else here, with you?”

     “No. Why do you ask?”

     Reynold strode into Illusen’s Glade and stood beside the rope ladder that led to the treehouse overhead. Though he was tall for a Blumaroo, he seemed to shrink in her sight, slumping and furrowing his brow as he loaded his things into a basket attached to a pulley and hoisted them into what would be his quarters for a time.

     “Lady Illusen, how much do you know about Darigan Citadel?”

     Illusen blinked. “Nothing that you don’t already know. I didn’t have time – or energy – to spare when the war broke out to find out more.”

     “Then you need not concern yourself about that,” Reynold answered. “I’ve taken…a leave, you might say, from my duties, to find the site where Darigan Citadel used to be located, before it rose into the air.”

     “Does King Skarl know about this? What about your family, and Jeran, and the other knights…”

     “The king, and Jeran, already know. So does my family. But…” He looked away, folding his arms across his wide chest. “But I will tell the other knights, in due time. Once I’ve gathered the information I need to confirm what I heard from a Darigan soldier I met during the war.”

     At first, she did not say anything. Then she smiled and flew up into the treehouse, gesturing for him to climb up after her.

     “It sounds like you have yet another story to tell, Sir Reynold. Why don’t we continue it over dinner? I made some extra Leaf Tacos.”

     * * *

     It did not take long for several Leaf Tacos to disappear; in addition to being tired, Reynold was also hungry. Now, Illusen had put a pot onto the firepit to boil, and watched as Reynold unrolled his bedroll and set out a journal, a quill pen, and a little inkwell.

     “When I was injured during the war, I was taken to one of the neutral zones to recover. There, I met Deborah, a Darigan Zafara. She was unlike any Zafara I met – ruby red, with wings and fangs. But I learned that we had one thing in common: we were fighting for our families.” The Blumaroo lay back against the wooden railing, clad in only a simple shirt, vest, and breeches tucked into boots.

     Illusen had always known that Reynold, commander of the knights of Meridell, was a simple Neopian, a commoner who worked hard to rise through the ranks. Though he did not have a noble lineage, he did come from a family of warriors in the northern regions of the kingdom. But seeing him without his armour, not wielding his sword and shield, and turning a small gold locket over and over in his callused and scarred hands…

     “That was why I joined the war. Trestin, my home, was so far from the castle that it was vulnerable to drought, famine, bandit attacks…if anything happened to Meridell, Trestin would have been one of the first villages to fall. I believed that if we lost the Orb, my family would suffer.” He opened the locket and showed the earth faerie miniature images of a white Blumaroo with curly hair and a gentle smile, and two more white Blumaroos who were in their preteen years at most. “But Deborah…and so many others from Darigan Citadel…fought for the same reason. She also had a family waiting for her, and didn’t want to let them down.

     “Anyway, Deborah told me about the Orb. She said it was originally from Darigan Citadel.”

     The earth faerie’s eyes widened, and at first, she gaped at him, wooden ladle in hand.

     “From…from the Citadel? Then, if that’s true…”

     Reynold nodded. “She was there, the day a squad of knights came. That was Lady Saraz and Sir Erdnan’s squad; when she described them, I immediately knew who she was talking about. According to her, they seized the Orb from its place in the town square, and all their plants, crops and trees wilted, and everyone living there…changed. They became…twisted versions of themselves. We…” He sighed. “We called them monsters. Not knowing how much we were truly alike, not knowing that they never asked to be changed that way.”

     After pondering everything he had said while stirring her pot, Illusen spoke up. “Is that why you’re looking for the old site of the Citadel? To find out if Deborah’s story is true?”

     “Yes.” The yellow Blumaroo watched as she began ladling the contents – a thick, aromatic, vegetable stew – into two bowls with spoons. “I wanted to be sure, before I…before I could tell King Skarl, or confront Sir Erdnan and the others. And of course, if it’s all true…”

     “Then Darigan Citadel was right to take back what was rightfully theirs,” Illusen finished quietly, staring into her bowl.

     “Not to mention…all the knights and soldiers of Meridell who fought in the war…how would they feel? Would they feel guilty that they had been fighting for a stolen artefact all along? Or would they even believe me? I’d be accusing some of my fellow knights of being thieves, and I’d be accused of treason, or…” Reynold breathed in, and swallowed a few bites of stew. “I’m sorry, Lady Illusen. There’s just so much to think about, that I have to see for myself what the true story of Darigan is.”

     “It’s all right. That’s understandable. You don’t want to…point fingers, until you have all the information you need, yes?”

     “That’s right.”

     Illusen smiled. “You are a good knight, Sir Reynold. I hope you find the answers you need.”

     “Thank you, I hope so too. And…I’m sorry, for suddenly bringing all this up. I’ve been travelling on my own for a while, thinking about what I’m about to do, that I suppose I wanted someone to talk to. Someone who knows what it means to be prudent about these things.” He looked up from his now empty bowl.

     “I…I see,” said Illusen. “You don’t have to apologize.”

     “And of course, this is all confidential until I present my case before the king and the others.”

     “Of course. I won’t tell anyone about your quest. Thank you…for trusting me with it.”

     * * *

     Night fell over Illusen’s Glade, and the light of Kreludor shone upon the face of a yellow Blumaroo tucked into his bedroll, snoring softly next to his sword, his shield, his armour, and his journal. The gold chain of his locket was visible around his neck.

     Illusen gazed out at the sky, at Kreludor’s full moon phase.

     Reynold is willing to leave his family, his friends and comrades, perhaps even Meridell, just to find answers to all his questions. To know what’s true and what’s real.

     A gentle breeze blew past her, rippling through her hair. It almost felt like a comforting arm over her shoulders.

     Maybe I should’ve done the same, that day. Maybe it would’ve made a difference. I would have been more certain that what I saw…but, but what if it was a mistake?

     She paused. Dark clouds scudded through the blackness of night, partly obscuring Kreludor. Illusen wrapped her arms around herself as a stronger breeze whirled through her glade.

     No. I know what I saw. Every faerie knows that while we can control the weather, we cannot change the seasons. And clearly that was what Jhudora was doing. I saw it with my own eyes.

     I know what I saw.

     Because when I was young, that was what I did. Broke one of the oldest, greatest faerie magic laws. At least Reynold does not have a burden like that upon his shoulders. His case is different.

     But…is it? Is it, really? And if I wanted to investigate this all over again, where would I even start? Jhudora would never tell me anything, especially now.

     Illusen sighed, placing her elbows on the treehouse railing.

     I’m not as trustworthy as you believe, Sir Reynold. And you are a far better Neopian than I will ever be. I hope your audience gives you a chance, when you tell them the story you discover.

     The End.