The Last Archer

[902]

What follows is a tale told round a campfire amongst friends. The truth of this matter is known only to the gods.

It came to be one night, that several adventurers sat around a fire on the plains just south of Dundee sharing tales and talk of the day. One elder adventurer had just begun to tip back his mug of lemonade when an initiate fresh from Jolan's training center appeared with a most interesting question.

"Pardon me, gentlefolk," the initiate began, "but I'm new to this place and I was wondering where I might find a bow?" The elder adventurer smiled kindly and replied "Friend, I cannot offer you such information, as there are no bows in Valorn." He nodded to the others who sat about the campfire, all nodding in their turn their agreement on the subject. "I can, though, if you are interested, offer you a tale about the last archer..." The other adventurers moved closer to the fire at this. The initiate looked slightly confused for a moment and almost as though he would refuse, but with a smile and a kind utterance of thanks, he joined the small group.

Handing over a mug of chilled lemonade to the initiate, he began the tale. "Back in the Golden Age, archers were common of course; many things were back then." He paused for a sip of his lemonade and a look of deep thought crossed his face. "At the time of the great fall there was an archer called Ayl. He was the greatest of the King's archers, and a kind and humble man to boot." The storyteller paused for a great long time, his eyes closed. The initiate looked from face to face, wondering if the tale had reached its end or if the storyteller had simply fallen asleep. With no warning, the storyteller picked up the thread of the tale and began to weave it once more.

"Ayl was a good man; he was so devoted to the protection of Valorn that he gave up his family name, which is lost now, to time, his lands, and even the thought of marriage or children." With a great sigh, like the working of a bellows, the storyteller continued. "Needless to say, we all know what happened next." He glanced to each face, lit as it was by the firelight and noted the sad expression on each face. "I'll not bother you with the tale of the end of the Golden Age itself, for it is known." Everyone around the campfire nodded. "Suffice it to say Ayl fought almost to the last, having taken a position on the Wall, trying for all he was worth to prevent the inevitable."

"And indeed, for awhile, it even looked as though Ayl might be successful." The storyteller mimicked the drawing of a bow, and loosing shaft after imaginary shaft. "Ayl shot his bow 'til his fingers bled; even his strong archer's calluses were unable to live up to the demands of that day." The storyteller sighed and let his imaginary bow drop to his side in defeat. "It goes almost without saying that Ayl would have remained on the Wall until it, too, were overrun," the storyteller squinted sharply with one eye, "but as he looked down on the killing floor, he saw a sight that gave him pause. Among the dead was a young boy, wandering about lost looking, dazed and somewhat bloodied."

"With speed he didn't know he possessed, Ayl flew down the Wall, finding near the bottom a damaged section that lead out to the Endless Desert where he had spotted the child with his archer's eye." Pausing for a sip of his lemonade, he looked at the initiate, holding him with his gaze. "The boy's family was nowhere to be seen. Ayl gathered the child into his arms and fled with him, into the Wall and to the relative safety of Branishor." Once safe behind the walls of Branishor, Ayl questioned the boy about his family, and where he lived, but the boy remained silent, his eyes wide with the terrors he had been witness to that day. A cleric came to Ayl's side to see to the boy and asked his name. Ayl paused for a moment, having no idea what to call him then looked at the cleric, smiling and said, "His name is Aylward."

So it came that Ayl and the foundling fled to safety, where in course of time, Ayl took up the care and raising of the boy. Eventually, Aylward began to talk, and in so doing, he one day expressed an interest in having a bow of his own. Ayl, happy to see that the boy was finally coming to some part of normalcy, agreed and set out to find a likely tree and carve the boy a bow.

As Aylward grew into manhood, he became an archer just like Ayl in many ways, but better than his guardian had ever been. Aylward was able to hit a target on the wing (or hoof) from great distances, and soon he became famous among the remaining citizens for his tremendous skill with the bow. Aylward grew to such fame that even the Gods took notice of him.

One day, while out hunting for dinner, the god Ben appeared to Aylward and said, "I have watched you now, young Aylward, for some time, and it is clear to me that Ayl has taught you well." Ben's great glowing eyes shone down on the boy with a benevolent light. "You are kind and thoughtful to others, respectful to your elders, and you care for Ayl in his declining years". Aylward, being smart and polite, kept his head bowed as he thanked Ben for his kind words. "So it is that I have decided to give you this." The god Ben stirred with a great deal of energy, nearly blinding Aylward with the effort as he summoned forth a Great Bow, filled with magical energy. The god Ben handed the magnificent weapon to Aylward, who could only gape helplessly at the beauty of the thing. Ben nodded to Aylward and admired his own craftsmanship for a moment, when suddenly, clouds began to appear and in a bright flash of light, the god Cory stood next to Ben. "Better take this too," Cory said, handing Aylward a magical quiver. "With the bow you've been given, you will never miss a shot, and the quiver will always be filled".

Almost as an afterthought, Ben spoke to Aylward, saying "Continue on your path, be kind to others, respectful to your elders, and dutiful in your worship of the gods and so long as you live, you will be known to all as the greatest archer in Trinald." With these parting words, the god Ben left the stunned Aylward to admire his gifts.

For some time, Aylward continued as he had been raised by Ayl: kindhearted, respectful and dutiful in his worship. But as is human nature, eventually Aylward forgot that it was because of the gods and their gifts that he had grown to such standing. One evening, Aylward went out from Branishor with several friends to hunt roc, near Fartown. With a single shot from his bow, Aylward culled a magnificent roc, perhaps the largest that had ever lived. Aylward's friends congratulated him, slapping him on the back and praising his skill.

Aylward smiled and said, "I never miss." He chuckled and went to dress the roc. Aylward was in the midst of dressing the creature, up to his arms in innards when another Roc, not quite so big as the one he had just taken, was startled from its nesting place by a charging war moose. With blazing speed, Aylward drew two arrows, firing one into the roc and one into the war moose, bringing both down in an instant, before his friends had time to raise the alarm. Aylward turned to his hunting companions and with a wink told them "You see? I never miss!"

The companions congratulated Aylward on his amazing display of skill and began to move to the two animals he had slain when Aylward stopped them. "Just leave those," he said "we've enough meat here, we don't need that." His friends looked uncertainly from one to the other, obviously unhappy at leaving the animals to rot, but eventually they assented to his wishes.

As time went on, Aylward became less and less dutiful in his worship of the gods and stopped even considering that it was because of their gifts that he was so highly skilled and regarded. From on high, the goddess Miranda looked down and shook her head as she heard Aylward's claims. He was no longer respectful to his elders; he was boastful and filled with pride. The goddess, angered at this, was preparing to drop several large archery butts on Aylward to teach him a lesson about respect when she was stopped by a word from Ben.

"What's going on down there?" Ben asked Miranda. In a slightly miffed sounding tone she said "This Aylward, the archer you and Cory blessed with such a fine weapon, he's grown complacent and disrespectful." The goddess' eyes glowed with fury as once more she summoned up the archery butts and prepared to hurl them toward Aylward. Ben frowned at Aylward's untoward display and vile comments, but he stayed Miranda's hand. "I have a better idea," he smiled mischievously at the goddess as he held up a single fly.

Some time passed and Aylward continued his scurrilous ways. A great woolly mammoth appeared before Aylward, just as he had been hoping. He was in need of a new cloak, and the creature's tusks would bring him a good price at market. Aylward nocked an arrow and drew back his bow to its fullest. Just as he was about to loose the shaft, a fly buzzed into his ear, causing him to twitch slightly in his release and the arrow to fly wide of its intended target. The woolly mammoth, now alerted, ran from the hunter.

Aylward stood still, mouth agape in disbelief as he told himself "But,but I never miss..." Aylward swatted at the fly and nocked another shaft to his bowstring, setting off after his prey. Moments later, Aylward stood in the wake of flattened grass left by the fleeing mammoth, the creature once again in his sight. Taking careful aim, Aylward drew his bow once more, listening intently for the buzzing of any flies or the like. Hearing none, he smiled to himself and sighted down the shaft of his arrow. Just as he prepared to loose the shaft, the fly returned, this time landing squarely on his forehead. Aylward, surprised by the sudden disturbance, loosed the shaft with a mighty curse, sending the enchanted arrow firmly into the ground a few feet away from him and slapping viciously at his forehead. His hand came away with the remains of the fly and smiling grimly, Aylward wiped his hand on his tunic, reaching to his quiver for another arrow. His hand came up empty. Aylward stared, dumbfounded, at the quiver. It was empty.

Aylward cursed his fortune, following up by cursing the gods, wondering what he had done to draw their ire. Being a prideful man, Aylward dismissed these events, knowing that surely, he could do no wrong. Aylward set quickly about making arrows of his own. As he finished his last arrow, tying the broadhead with a bit of sinew, Aylward noticed his bowstring seemed a bit frayed. Grumbling to himself and cursing his luck, he picked up the Great Bow and set off once more to find the mammoth he had been stalking. After marcs of searching, he finally spotted his prey. Slowly and carefully this time, as though it were his first shot ever with bow and arrow, Aylward drew back the bow with all his strength, muttering a few words over the thick wooden shaft of his handmade arrow. The mammoth's head came up at this utterance, causing Aylward to haul back as far as he could on the bowstring before letting loose. The string, frayed round its ends, broke with a sound like a whip. The Great Bow, his gift from the god Ben, snapped in half, leaving Aylward holding the arrow in his hand. A fly landed on the end of his nose.

Aylward, enraged, glanced up to the sky and cursed all the gods for his misfortune. Suddenly, a shower of red sparks appeared above him and several large, abnormally heavy archery butts fell on the wayward archer. The gods Ben and Cory appeared suddenly, along with the goddess Miranda. Ben snatched up the remains of the Great Bow, making it whole once more. Cory took the quiver and nodded, seeing it fill rapidly with arrows. The goddess Miranda dumped another load of archery butts on Aylward with a disapproving shake of her head.

At this, Ben strode forward and announced, "Aylward, you who were once most favored by the gods of Trinald have fallen into disgrace. No longer are you respectful of others, nor are you dutiful in your worship of the gods." Ben looked to Cory and Miranda before continuing. "So great is our displeasure with you, that from this day forth, the bow shall be the weapon of the gods, and no person in Trinald will wield its like again." With that, Ben and Cory disappeared, leaving Aylward heaped beneath a pile of archery butts. Miranda smiled down on Aylward, a wicked smile fraught with impish intent. The goddess raised her hands, causing Aylward to recoil slightly as he braced himself for more archery butts to be added to the pile, but instead, the goddess Miranda only smiled and disappeared in a shower of red sparks. Aylward sighed in relief and began trying to extricate himself from the heap, when suddenly he heard a familiar buzzing sound. A fly, on the smallish side, landed between his eyes.

The storyteller concluded his tale and looked thoughtfully at the initiate. "And that, lad, is why there are no bows to be had in all of Trinald." The initiate looked up to the heavens and muttered a few words of prayer; he thanked the storyteller for sharing his tale and his hospitality. As he rose to leave, the initiate looked down at where he had been sitting and noticed an odd looking fly with red-tinted wings. Though he could never have said how he knew it, the initiate swore to his last breath that the fly was smiling.

With thanks to my friend and patient Editor, Topaz the Poet.

[AKA Azure]

An enjoyable tale.