Break

Chapter 17: Fairytales are a Lie

I don't think I have ever gotten something that quickly before then shoved out to meet someone else. That priest looked terrified. If I were still my old self, I would storm back in there and demand answers, but I merely walk on my merry way across the street to the storyteller. The small shop is made completely out of marble and granite, and several windows make up almost the entirety of the roof. As I walk in, the marble seems to glow from the sunlight. This place is so serene.

"Welcome, Princess Penelope," a familiar voice says with an unusual cheerfulness.

"Faust?" I murmur in disbelief. The figure sitting cross-legged on the elevated platform in front of the massive circular window on the wall looks exactly like Faust. His hair, his face, his eyes, his voice... but he's not Faust.

"No, my dear princess, I am not your deceased friend. I am everyone and no one, someone yet nobody. Commander Caragan sees me as someone else. You see me as the Ice King of Androsta, correct?" I nod. "Just as I thought. You see, I take on the appearance of a lost one dear to the person's heart. People see me as someone they wish to see again; a comfort, really. In actuality, I am merely an illusionist who has long since lost his physical body. In other words, I am pure magic."

"Is it just me, or are we running into a lot more mages than usual?" I ask Caragan.

"We've always been here, milady," the illusionist tells me with a small smile. "Many of us hang our heads in shame, but others have gained a reputation, some lasting through Gravo's earlier massacre. Luckily, I am one of those ancient beings."

"What is your name?" Caragan asks him.

"I am the Illusionist," he answers him, "or, as the people now call me, the Storyteller."

"The priest called you something else," I say.

"Lonfillo, right?"

"Yes."

"He gave me that name long ago when he was still a mere child. His teachers brought him to me to learn about the past, and I dare say I traumatized the poor child. Just as Faust found a friend in you and Prince Forarte, I found a friend in Father Wenlin. I do miss the time we spent together. It gets rather lonely, being eternal."

"I am sorry to hear."

"I bet you are," the Illusionist mumbles. "Anyway, enough of the pity. You came to hear the story of the knight and the princess, right?"

"How did you know?" I ask him.

"I know everything about you just by looking at you," he states. "Take a seat anywhere. There are no chairs though."

I look to Caragan, who is already walking past me and taking a seat on the ground in front of the Illusionist. Promptly, I sit beside him. The Illusionist closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, then, after a moment, exhales.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess that wanted nothing more than to find love. She could have anyone in her kingdom, but only one man caught her eye; a knight with more courage and loyalty than the entirety of the army combined. There was a gleam in the knight's eyes that attracted adventure. The two of them stole moments together to just talk, sometimes even talking through her bedroom door when the knight was guarding it. The fair maiden was smitten by that adventure and wonder, but, alas, she knew it was not to be. Instead, she married a prince, leaving the poor knight alone.

"One day, a dark presence entered the castle, killing most of its inhabitants and kidnapping the princess. The knight managed to survive, but just barely. A village healer took him in and nursed him back to health. Once recovered, the knight trained for ninety-nine days and ninety-nine nights till his swordsmanship was the best in the land. Off he went to save the princess.

"The knight faced many trials fueled by the dark magic of the mage; a trial by fire, water, earth, and air. Many friends helped him along the way, some even sacrificing their own lives to keep our dear knight alive. One particular mage, a mage of ice, sacrificed his own life in the trial of water, frozen in time in order to keep it all from flooding the entire sacred temple. His death drove the knight forward and fueled his conviction, but it took a toll on his heart. The knight no longer smiled, and constantly wished for his friend back. Regret at his heart like a parasite, but his companions forced him onwards.

"During the final battle with the mage, the knight brandished his sword made of the purest silver, forged in the flames of a dragon's breath, given to him by the fair princess during one of their secret meetings. The fight seemed to last for an eternity, both sides never wavering in combat. Then, just as all seemed to remain in a stalemate, the mage managed to disarm the knight. With a weakening hand gripping his own sword, the mage lifts the blade up to chop off our hero's head, but the blade merely falls to the floor. The princess stands tall, the knight's sword in her hand. However, the knight did not stand. The princess, heartbroken, wrapped her arms around her hero and cried for ninety-nine days and ninety-nine nights. Death, having pity on the poor princess, took her soul to her beloved, where the knight and the princess lived happily ever after."

"I thought the knight was supposed to triumph over evil and save the princess," I state.

"Ah, but he did," the Illusionist says. "Without the knight, the princess would have remained the bride of evil for the rest of her life."

"What happened to this prince?"

"He and everyone else lived out their days thinking the princess died long ago. Everyone thought the knight was the sole hero," he tells me.

"That's horrible!" I exclaim.

"Milady, do not fret. Fairytales are a lie. However, there is some truth within the lie. That truth is the prophecy. A knight with a heart of courage and a princess with equal valor will destroy the darkness that plagues the land," the Illusionist says.

"I don't know any knight though, and none have actually caught my eye," I point out.

"What makes a knight, Princess Penelope? A tap on the shoulder with a sword and an 'I dub thee', or the heart of the man?"

"Technically, the first one," I say. "Mentally, the heart."

The Illusionist laughs, bringing back memories of the few times I have heard Faust laugh. My heart lurches ever so slightly at the thought.

"You amuse me, I'll give you that," he chuckles. "Alright, back to business.Do you know who your knight is?"

"I have a pretty good idea," I murmur. "What about the sword?"

"You must collect it all and have the finest blacksmith craft it. If I may, I would recommend a man named Levolius Bosca. He resides across the ocean from here." The man raises his hand and summons a bright light, which fades away to form a map that floats over to me. I gently take it from the air and unroll it. "It is a map to the man. Collect the materials and head there immediately. You do not have much time, Princess Penelope. Time is crucial."

"Thank you, Illusionist," I say gratefully.

"Best of luck to you, milady. Farewell," the Illusionist says with a small grin.

"Goodbye."

I rise to my feet and head back out the door, my hips aching from sitting on the ground for so long. Caragan joins me, a bag with a few bars of silver slung across his back.

"Your thoughts?" Caragan asks me.

"We need to hurry." I stop and turn to him. "Commander, please, you need to find where Rafael went. He is our only hope."

"Then who is going to protect you?" he asks me.

"I am heading back to Sanfellios," I say. "I need someone there and the dragonkeeper anyway."

"Who?"

"General Taire, of course."