AI Generated Short Stories

Carousel of Magic

The young knight stopped in front of the beggar. He was dressed in rags, but he had a sword at his waist, and two daggers were strapped to his legs. His face was dirty and beaded with sweat, but it held no trace of pity or compassion. A large gash ran down one cheek. It appeared that someone had cut him open with a knife when he refused their begging.

"I am Sir Tristan," the knight said, "and I demand to know why you are here."

The beggar laughed coarsely. "You are not as strong as your father, my lord," he replied. "And if you come any closer, my dog will tear out your throat!"

Tristan stood very still for a moment. Then he drew back his arm, and hit the man in the chest hard enough to stun him, then kicked him in the stomach. The beggar fell over backward. Tristan knelt next to him and pushed his head up under his chin.

"Don't move again," he ordered.

He picked up the dagger from the ground by the beggar's hand, sliced off a piece of bread from a loaf on the cart beside him, and handed it to the beggar. Then he turned away and walked toward the castle entrance.

Behind him, he heard the beggar groaning softly.

***

Gavin sat at his desk studying. His apprentices were gone; they'd all left for the day. Gavin was alone in the tower room, with only the sound of the wind rushing through the window high above his head.

There wasn't much time left before the sun would set completely. Most people had already retired for the night. Now, the few remaining villagers who hadn't been able to leave for the day were returning home. They paused briefly outside the castle doors, and stared up at the tall tower. Their eyes widened slightly as they took in the fact that the dragon had returned.

Gavin hated being studied like this. He didn't want anyone to see him so vulnerable. But even more than that—he dreaded the thought of having to make the same decision his father had made years ago.

It was almost midnight before anyone else came into the tower room. They knocked quietly on the door and waited. Finally, Gavin called them in and told them to wait outside.

They did as instructed, though there was a hint of tension in the air. Gavin closed his book and looked up at the three men standing in the doorway.

"So, what is it?" he asked.

"We would like to ask you about something we saw today while you were riding through the village," one of them said.

"What do you mean?" Gavin inquired.

"Well, we're not sure exactly what happened, but the way Sir Tristan acted...well, he seemed pretty angry," the man explained.

Gavin considered that for a moment. "That does seem strange," he admitted. "Why don't you tell me what you saw."

The man described how he and his father had seen Tristan yelling at a beggar in the street. When they had tried to follow him to get a better look at what was going on, the knight had struck the man several times with the flat of his sword.

"Did you see the beggar's wounds?" Gavin asked.

The man nodded. "Yes. We could see the blood pooling around him. And then the other knights started appearing and dragging him inside the castle."

Gavin listened closely to every word the man said. When he finished, Gavin leaned back against the wall.

"What do you think about all this?" the man asked. "Do you believe that the beggar attacked Tristan?"

"I'm afraid I can't say for certain," Gavin answered honestly. "But I will say that no one should have the right to strike another person without reason. If someone has wronged you, perhaps you should try talking things out first."