Escape from Celestial

by Tony Johnson

  “Tell me how it went,” Grizz repeated, his voice sterner.

  Liam took a deep breath to calm himself. Then he relented and recited the rhyme:

  “Five years old and can’t stand up straight,

  A little Dwarf named Nash, always shows up late.

  Every day for clothes and food he begs,

  All because he was born cripple, a boy who can’t use his legs.”

  Nodding, Grizz held in his anger, but was happy he finally had a better sense of what happened earlier in the schoolyard. “Do you think he deserved to be punched for making fun of your brother?”

  “I don’t know,” Liam replied with a sniffle.

  “No,” Grizz shook his head. “I don’t know is not an answer. Do you think he deserved to be punched?” he asked again and waited for Liam to answer differently, but his son only shrugged his shoulders.

  “Are you sorry you hit him?” Grizz changed the question.

  Liam thought for a moment, “No,” he paused, considering his father’s initial question. “He deserved it.”

  “Yes, he did.” Grizz nodded.

  “So, you’re not mad?”

  “I don’t like coming home and hearing that you’ve been fighting, but I’m not mad. It’s not me you need to worry about, though; it’s your mother. She doesn’t like fighting. She doesn’t want to see you get hurt or get in trouble.”

  “I’m not going to get hurt!”

  “I know you’re not. You’re a Grindstone. But you must consider the consequences of your actions. What if the school decides they don’t want you there anymore because you fight too often?”

  “Mom is the teacher. She wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “Your mother is not your mother when she’s your teacher. She has to treat you like everyone else.” Grizz could see the reality of that fact hit his son.

  “I don’t want to get kicked out of school.”

  “You have to be careful then.” Grizz moved to sit on the bed next to his eldest son. “People are always going to make fun of your brother, you, me, your mom, and your friends. You can’t beat them up every time. It’s not a good way to live. Don’t make the same mistakes I did and let your anger make you do things you’ll regret. I know it’s hard for because we have personalities that tend to be volatile than the other races, but you must learn to let certain things go. However, I don’t think you were in the wrong this time.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course not. It probably took this kid a couple days to come up with that stupid poem; so, in my opinion, he should spend at least two weeks with a black eye. My point is that you should think about what you’re doing before you do it. Confronting a bully with fists shouldn’t be your first instinct. After you talk to him, if he still wants to say those things, then you have my permission to hit him.”

  “Okay, I’ll try to do better.”

  “You will do better,” Grizz said strictly as he stood up, making it clear of the expectations he had for his son.

  Liam nodded. “I will.” He embraced his father in a hug.

  “Come on,” Grizz motioned to the door. “Dinner will be ready any minute.”

  “What are we having?”

  “Turkey, leek soup, and stuffing.”

  “Good, those are my favorite,” Liam said excitedly as he headed to the kitchen.

  “Mine too,” Grizz claimed, following behind his son, reaching down and ruffling his hair.

  After telling his mother he was sorry, hugging her, and promising he wouldn’t fight anymore, the whole family sat at the table and held hands as Grizz prayed for the food.

  “Alazar, thank you for how you have blessed this family. Thank you for the progress Nash is making in using his crutches and please help him continue to get stronger. Please help Liam to be wise and discerning in his choices and thank you that he doesn’t back down from bullies. Lastly, I thank you for my beautiful wife, who is such a great mother to these two boys and the child that will soon be in our lives. Please bless this food which she has prepared for us tonight. Amen.”

  “Amen.” His family said in unison at the end of the prayer. Then they passed the plates around and dug into the food.

  Praying was not something Grizz had done until he had a family. He had grown up having a very difficult life. He had done many bad things and paid the price for his actions.

  Because of his dark past, he didn’t know why the good god, Alazar, blessed him with a wife, who helped him turn from his violent tendencies, but he said a prayer of thanks every day for her and for the two sons she bore him.

  The Dwarf couldn’t help smiling as he ate the delicious food and watched his family talking and laughing together.

  Everything is perfect, he thought, feeling fully content in his heart.

  It was the last time in his life Grizz Grindstone would ever think those words.

  It was the last time in his life he would ever eat dinner with his family.

  Chapter 27

  Steve, Ty, and Kari stood with their backs to McGregor’s stable. The structure stood waveringly since half of it had been destroyed in the fires of the siege. Fifteen horses, tied to a single charred post, were thrashing and neighing incessantly. Most animals, horses especially, acted out when they felt something bad was about to occur. The hundreds of monsters surrounding the plaza, both on the ground and in the air, did nothing to quell the horses’ fears. They could tell death was imminent.

  Before entering what would likely be the last battle he ever fought, Stephen Brightflame turned around and looked at the two people standing behind him, Tyrus Canard and Kari Quinn. The warrior said a quick prayer for his brother and his newly-made friend. These two risked their lives to save mine. I know this situation is hopeless, but please spare them somehow. They don’t deserve to die here.

  Ty and Kari saw a wild look in the eyes of Steve, like that of the horses. He’s going to try and kill the Shadow Prince, Kari could tell, feeling her heart racing. What is he thinking? He’s going get himself killed!

  After considering his decision, she realized she couldn’t blame the warrior for wanting to fight. The three of us are going to be killed anyway so what does it matter if he fights or not? I just don’t want to watch him die painfully. I’ve seen enough death today to last a lifetime.

  A part of Kari was content with her upcoming death. She was so worn out and tired; all she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep. Another part of her was eager to continue with the challenge she had already faced many times today: to find a way to stay alive no matter how bleak the situation seemed.

  As she looked at Steve, his eyes seemed to soften when they met her own. He looks excited to fight, but he also seems sad, like he knows these will be his final minutes of life.

  Ty, standing next to Kari, didn’t know what to think. Will Steve be able to defeat Silas by himself? Should I help him fight? As the Elf considered what to do, Steve embraced Kari and whispered something into her ear. He then turned to Ty. Even though the two of them had grown up together as foster brothers and were the best of friends, Steve did not hug Ty as he had Kari. He simply winked to the Elf before turning back around to face his opponent.

  On the opposite side of the plaza, Prince Silas Zoran, recently nicknamed ‘The Shadow Prince’, began walking towards Steve. As he moved forward, Silas used his ability to control the element of water by creating a thick layer of ice that instantly coated his white armor. Silas, although he was Human, had the same power most Anthropomorphic Monsters had, the ability to coat any metal his body touched with his element.

  Silas’s golden weapon, the Aurelian Sword, was also covered in ice. He pointed the scimitar’s frosted tip at Steve and wagged it. “I applaud you, warrior. You and your two friends have created quite the uprising, haven’t you? Who knew a lowly three could instigate such rebellion? I should have killed you in the observation tower when I had the chance. Look at all of the trouble that woul
d’ve saved.”

  “That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing,” Steve smirked while walking forward to battle.

  Annoyed that the warrior in front of him wasn’t exhibiting a more fearful reaction to his dire circumstance and was once again smiling in the face of death, Silas growled, “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

  Not if I kill you first, Steve thought, unaffected by the prince’s attempt at intimidation as he drew closer to the enemy.

  This is it. I finally get the chance to battle Silas and make him pay for everything he’s done. I want nothing more than to end the life of the Shadow Prince. The man standing before me is the very definition of evil. He is the most impatient, narcissistic, power-hungry person I have ever met, not to mention violently savage. Someone needs to stop him before he hurts anyone else.

  Playing back the events of recent weeks in his mind only served to increase Steve’s anger. He tried to kill my horse Clyx; he cheated in our exhibition jousting match; he ordered his subordinate, Ironmaul, torture me; he personally wanted to pull the lever to execute me at my hanging; and, on top of those things, he betrayed the kingdom by murdering his own grandfather, King Zoran.

  Steve and Silas both turned their walk into a sprint and charged forward. The built-up hatred and animosity the two men harbored towards each other was palpable. Their rage had reached a boiling point and could no longer be quenched. All their anger could finally be unleashed until only one man was left standing.

  The two forces collided with a loud clash of metal on ice. Instantly, the Shadow Prince began to hack away at the warrior. His strikes were unexpectedly heavy and powerful. Backwards and backwards Steve was unwillingly driven as the prince advanced on him.

  Physically, the Shadow Prince had the upper hand in the duel. Steve and Silas were around the same height, but Silas was almost twice as big as Steve. He was incredibly strong, with biceps as wide as Steve’s neck and shoulders as big as boulders. On top of that, Silas had an elemental power. The chances of Steve defeating the prince were slim.

  I will only be content with dying if I take the betrayer of Celestial down with me, he reasoned. Even if I somehow manage to kill him and survive the duel, the hundreds of monsters surrounding the plaza will likely kill me. If these are my final minutes of life, I must make them count for something.

  The prince had power, but he didn’t have anywhere near the amount of experience Steve had in the art of swordfighting.

  Because of his skills, Steve was able to expose some minor flaws in Silas’s technique and use them to his advantage. He parried a wild blow and began to drive the prince back with his own offensive strikes. Strength versus skill: the tradeoff was equal. Back and forth, Steve and Silas fought with neither man gaining an advantage.

  The Shadow Prince quickly grew frustrated and bull rushed his opponent. He barreled forward, swinging vicious, powerful strikes. Knowing the prince’s tendency to get angry and impatient, Steve knew exactly what to do. He kept backing up and dodging attacks by leaning and ducking out of the way. He didn’t even attempt to use Brightflame to block any of the swings because he was afraid the mighty blows would knock his sword from his hands.

  As the prince continued to drive forward, Steve backed up until he had the opportunity to quickly sidestep and remove himself from the path of the charging man. Silas was attacking so ferociously, it took him a moment to realize he was slicing nothing but air.

  Breathing heavily, the white-armored prince turned around and repeated his style of attack. This time, however, Steve took a misstep while backing up. Seeing the warrior’s critical fault, Silas decided to use his full strength to swing as hard as he could and decapitate his enemy. However, it was an inaccurate strike, and, instead of cutting through Steve’s neck, it sliced deep into his left shoulder.

  Grimacing from the pain, blood immediately poured from the wound that had penetrated through his shoulder armor. His blade went deep, Steve could tell as he clutched at the injury. I’m badly wounded.

  Sensing Steve was stunned from the blow, Silas attacked again, not leaving time for his enemy to recoup. Winding up for the killing strike, he swung maliciously for a second time, attempting once more to behead his enemy. At the last moment, Steve ducked out of the way and swung Brightflame, smashing it into the back of Silas’s neck. Unfortunately, the prince’s iced armor protected him from having his head separated, but Steve’s blow wasn’t ineffective.

  Silas stumbled and fell to the dirt ground of the plaza stomach-first. As he fell, the golden King’s Sword, Aurelia, escaped his grip and bounced away, coming to a rest five feet from where he lay.

  Steve saw his chance to kill the Shadow Prince. The distance between Silas and Aurelia is much farther than the distance between Silas and me. I will easily be able to run my sword through him before he can retrieve Aurelia.

  As the Shadow Prince frantically crawled towards his weapon, Steve moved in for the kill. Right before he was about to drive Brightflame down through the ice and armor and into flesh, Silas rolled over and threw a handful of dirt up into the warrior’s eyes.

  Instantly, Steve lifted both of his hands to his face so he could wipe the blinding dirt from his eyes. Doing this left his entire torso open for attack.

  Silas lunged and tackled Steve with such force, he lifted the warrior up and slammed him into the ground. The way he was taken down, with Silas’s weight driving into him, caused the wind to be knocked out of Steve. On his hands and knees, the injured warrior gasped for air that refused to enter his lungs. He released his grip on Brightflame as he wrapped his hands around his throat, struggling to breathe.

  Hearing the distant sound of Ty and Kari yelling, “Get up!” Steve realized he must have been on the ground longer than he thought. Suddenly, the Shadow Prince was standing above him. Silas wanted his next attacks to be more personal, so instead of using Aurelia, he sheathed it.

  With an iced-encased gauntlet, he forcefully punched Steve in his already swollen jaw. The unexpected, downward-angled punch twisted Steve’s neck so much, he felt as though his head might twist right off his body like a corkscrew.

  Again, before Steve had time to recover and catch his breath, Silas backed up a couple of feet and rushed forward, swinging his ice-encased boot into the side of his opponent’s stomach. Even though he was wearing armor, Steve felt the power of the savage kick through his metal plate. It lifted him slightly into the air and sent him rolling across the ground.

  Steve began crawling back towards his only hope of defense, Brightflame. Even though the prince stood in between where the warrior was and where the weapon lay, Steve knew he had to attempt to get to his sword.

  As he crawled, Silas walked up to him and stomped down on the back of his enemy’s back which, underneath the armor, still sported the gashes and welts from Ironmaul’s whip. With a second stomp aimed directly at Steve’s skull, the warrior’s face flattened into the dirt. There was a loud cracking noise as his nose broke against the ground. Blood gushed from his nostrils, and his eyes became watery from pain.

  Steve rolled around on the ground in agony. He pressed one hand against his aching back. The other hand, he moved to each of the other injuries he had acquired: bruised ribs, broken nose, injured jaw and head, and gashed shoulder. The most painful of these was his shoulder, which had now coated his gauntlet with blood, and his broken nose, which he tried to set back in place despite the cringing feeling of hearing bone scrape against bone. On top of the injuries from the fight with Silas, Steve still felt the throbbing aches and pains from what he had endured during the siege earlier in the day.

  Ugh, Steve thought in the lulls between the pulsing pains, never in my life have I felt so close to death.

  The hundreds of monsters watching began grunting and making guttural noises. Some of the Anthropomorphic Monsters were clattering their weapons against their shields, making as much noise as they could. They’re calling for him to finish me off, Steve knew.


  Again, he began crawling towards Brightflame. This time, however, the Shadow Prince did not prevent the warrior from reaching it. Silas knew the story of his defeat of Celestial’s jousting hero would be more impactful if the warrior died defending himself. It would instill in civilians a fear of their new king’s swordfighting abilities, while also giving further credence to his unrivaled strength and power. Plus, Silas allowed Steve to retrieve Brightflame because he found it amusing to watch the injured warrior slither through the dirt like a snake.

  With his scimitar now drawn, Silas paced around the rebel warrior like a shark encircling its prey. Steve grabbed Brightflame and summoned all the willpower he could muster to stand up on his own two feet. Since Silas was not farther than a sword swing away, he tightened his fingers around the hilt of Brightflame. If the prince is willing to stoop so low as to throw dirt in a fight, then it isn’t beyond him to attempt a fatal strike when I least expect it.

  Seeing that the red-armored warrior refused to stay down, Silas asked in a tone of annoyance, “Why do you refuse to accept defeat? Celestial has fallen. There is nothing left to fight for. It’s over. We’ve won.” He took a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead and run his fingers through his shoulder-length, greasy, black hair. To Steve, it seemed like he was trying to fix his appearance so it didn’t look like he had worked so hard in the fight.

  “Look around at all these monsters. What hope do you and your friends have against them? All I see is an unarmored Elf, a woman with a bow, but no arrows, and you, who looks so pale and fragile I’m afraid you’ll drop dead at any moment and I won’t get the pleasure of killing you myself!”

  The Shadow Prince stopped walking in circles and stood directly in front of Steve. “Maybe being Celestial’s jouster has given you the idea you’re some sort of invincible hero, but you will soon find out that you’re not. Haven’t you learned that being a hero comes with an untimely death? The two go hand in hand. Look at what happened to your king.”