The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle

by David Partelow

  Theophilus clenched his fists. “That is enough of you and your lies, Norrex! Let’s end this once and for all. Today one of us leaves here and the other does not.”

  Norrex nodded to the little weed. “Very well. It had been my hope that you would live long enough to see your folly, but no matter,” he turned and placed the vial and stone upon the altar. The pantheryn then snapped his fingers. “Goodbye, Theophilus Thistle. Let the end wash over you with vehemence, pain, and revelation.”

  At the snap, the doors of the citadel opened, revealing twelve orcs. Garbed in dark, leather armor and holding to jagged blades, the orcs set their sights upon Theophilus as they roared and charged. Satisfied, Norrex resumed his incantations and didn’t offer his enemy another thought. The forest was then painfully filled with the war cries of orcs thirsting for battle.

  Theophilus watched as his enemies approached. Reaching to his side, he removed a small vial resting upon his belt. Opening it, the little weed drank the contents. A powerful sleeping agent coursed through him before coming to rest within his thorns. With the little that remained, Theophilus then coated his knives before discarding the vial. Thus prepared, Theophilus readied his blades as he waited for his enemies to charge him, letting calmness and purpose wash over him before the rush of battle.

  With seconds left before combat, Theophilus spoke. “For the light, for hope, and for Calla, I will not falter on this day,” he said before screaming in defiance and charging his foes.

  With twelve enraged orcs rushing toward him, Theophilus charged upon them fearlessly. Not expecting such bravery, the orcs slowed their advance. Theophilus avoided sword strikes meant to kill him, placing himself within the center of his enemies. The little weed then jumped about, evading attacks and using his size and speed to his advantage. Hurling thorns and making quick strikes with his blades, Theophilus felled four of his enemies before leaping away and landing unscathed.

  The remaining orcs watched as four of their own collapsed unconscious from their enemy’s assaults. Regrouping, the orcs spread out, attempting to circle and swarm their foe. Theophilus watched them warily, readying for their next assault. Above him, he could hear Norrex’s invocations increase in fervor as his servants chanting bolstering his intensity.

  As the orcs still prepared to charge Theophilus again, the little weed beat them to the punch. Targeting one of his enemies, Theophilus sprinted to him, dodging a sword strike that ate into the ground where he had just stood. Leaping in the air, Theophilus hurled three thorns into the orc’s neck before landing, rolling, and throwing three more at the next nearest enemy. As the two orcs fought to remain awake, Theophilus accepted the brunt of the remaining orcs. Six enraged enemies swirled together, hacking and slashing at their small foe, who remained just ahead of them as he kept himself within their assaults, forcing them to injure themselves as they aimed for him.

  Slashing with his blades, Theophilus was able to fell two more with his sleeping poison before he finally caught a striking fist from one of the orcs. The blow sent Theophilus sailing away from four remaining orcs before he crashed and rolled upon the ground. Shaking his head clear, Theophilus returned to his feet and wiped the blood from his lip. As the orcs pressed at him, Theophilus put his blades away and drew Digus from his back. Firing on the orcs fiercely, he struck two more before the final two retreated.

  “Enough of this!”

  Theophilus turned to the booming voice of Norrex. As his eyes set upon his foe, they widened. An ominous, crimson aura surrounded the pantheryn as power churned in his hands. Norrex’s eyes burned with fire as he set his gaze upon the little weed. Whatever incantation he activated was clearly reinforcing the sorcerer’s already considerable powers.

  “Those fools have delayed you and annoyed me long enough with their failure,” said Norrex as he clasped his hands together over his head. Norrex’s robes danced feverishly in the moment as magic swelled within the pantheryn. “Now see my full strength as it incinerates you where you stand!”

  Brimming with power, Norrex unleashed a near unfathomable torrent of magic upon the grounds before the Fireborn Citadel. Like a stream of shadowy fire, the magic rushed upon Theophilus. The little weed raised Digus, offering a magical counterattack. Almost instantly the strain brought the weed to a knee as he fought to hold off the magic eager to swallow him whole. Grunting in pain, Theophilus barely held his ground as the attack finally waned. Using Digus to remain upright, the little weed panted as Norrex cackled from above.

  “Do you see now, Theophilus? That was but a taste! Now face the full might gifted to me by my master,” he crowed as he readied another blast with his hands.

  Theophilus looked at the pantheryn grimly as he spoke to the wand in his hands. I don’t know if we can survive another blast like that, he said within his thoughts

  I can protect myself, but not the both of us, replied Digus darkly. I warned you that this foe is beyond us, Theophilus.

  Theophilus nodded. Then I suppose there is only one option left, he replied as he placed the end of Digus into the ground, aiming it toward Norrex. The little weed steeled himself for another barrage.

  Grinning triumphantly, Norrex unleashed an even more powerful blast upon his enemy. The shadow fire rushed ferociously upon Theophilus as he blasted back with Digus. But in the assault, the magic offered by the little weed and the ground surrounding him was swallowed by Norrex’s attack. The pantheryn pressed his assault, refusing to let up until he was satisfied that his quarry was no more.

  After long moments, Norrex finally relented his attack. As he did, he looked upon the charred ground where the weed once stood. All that he saw where the felled bodies of his orc minions and the wand Theophilus once held. The grounds around the wand were charred and swallowed in the savagery of his rage. At the sight of his deed, Norrex cackled again in triumph. The feeling that rushed him was nigh overwhelmingly euphoric.

  “And so, it is done at long last,” he yelled joyously. “Theophilus Thistle is finally no more! Theophilus Thistle is dead!” His words were followed with a stream of maniacal cackling. As he calmed himself and reclaimed his breath, he took one more moment to relish his victory. The pantheryn then turned back to the altar as he set his gaze upon the stone slab resting there. “And now we finish at last what was started long ago.”

  An eerie silence descended upon the grounds before the Fireborn Citadel as Norrex the Deathshade resumed his work. Below the altar and ledge, the wand known as Digus laid alone within the only little stretch that wasn’t consumed by shadow fire. Soon the chanting and incantation resumed, with no one standing to oppose it as Norrex’s full will fixed upon the altar. Dark magics swelled and flourished as the incantation neared completion.

  Unable to act any further without assistance, Digus spoke to the prevailing silence. Theophilus, I certainly hope you know what you are doing, it said.

  Yet only silence replied.

  CHAPTER Eight

  Beauty and the Choice

  Sullen in her silence, Calla watched the budding, light-kissed morning from the carriage window. Since the start of the journey to Lunamorn, she had said nothing, focusing her attention to the view. The scenery outside was gorgeous, and the pink lotus flower was able to see it in its full splendor flying above it all. From the glistening blue of gentle streams to the luscious greens of untouched forests, the beauty she witnessed would have been breathtaking on any other day.

  But today was not the day for such enjoyment.

  The carriage, unlike the last one, was meant for the skies and not the road. Six floral mounts with colorful wings flew in near unison, pulling the enchanted carriage along its way. Flanking the carriage at all sides were twelve of the Royal Guard of Alethia. Carrying spears atop their own mounts, each guard scoured the lands and sky before them, more alert since the last attempt. And while the endeavor did place the group in open skies, they made twice the time in their approach to their destination.

  Calla’s thoughts were deeply
burdened. She knew that the journey was the right choice, yet somehow it still felt wrong as she contemplated. Leaving her friends to face perilous fates without her seemed unjust. Calla worried for their safety, but mostly, she thought of Patch.

  Calla felt almost haunted, for her mind could scarcely stray far from Theophilus Thistle. She thought of their last encounter, fearful that it could have been their last. She hated leaving things as they were, with so many things left unsaid. And more so her thoughts went to the kiss they shared in the heat of a forever moment, and instantly her lips were aflame with remembrance.

  “You are awful quiet today, milady,” said a voice close to Calla’s side.

  Calla turned, looking upon Mondoor. The royal diplomat eyed her gently, worry rippling through his petals. She offered him a polite smile, yet it was devoid of any reassurance. Mondoor waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts and speak. Knowing this, Calla took a deep breath, preparing her next words.

  Gathering herself, Calla replied. “I’m sorry, Mondoor. My thoughts and heart our elsewhere,” she offered as she lowered her gaze. “I know what we are doing is right, but it does nothing to ease the pain of my heart.”

  Mondoor patted her leg gently. “Take heart, for soon we will have words with emissaries of King Landin himself. With that accomplished we will gain the support we need to drive out this evil once and for all,” he said.

  Calla sighed. “But at what cost? Even now our friends are standing against an overwhelming enemy. As we speak they may even be risking their lives so that we may have this chance. It seems unfair that I am being carried away from such a peril as they stand for all of us,” she said.

  Mondoor nodded at her pain. “As representatives of Alethia, we will be often faced with such decisions, Calla. We must make the hard choices for the greater good. We honor your friends as they support us. It is the unified effort that will see us to victory in the end. They hold our part, and we ours.”

  Calla sat back, crossing her arms as she shook her head softly. “Your words are heavy with truth, yet my heart rebels against them just the same,” she replied.

  “It takes time, Calla. You will see that our duty is just, and our cause is right,” said Mondoor. “We honor those who fight by bringing them the tools for absolute victory.”

  Calla looked at him with scrutiny. “You speak as if this were all some game,” she observed.

  Mondoor nodded. “Yes. One must be able to step back from feeling and see things as they are, Calla. That way we see the whole picture and looking at it completely we can make the best course. If we were to face everything with our hearts, it would surely make us broken in the end. I do what I must for Alethia. And now, so do you.”

  Calla shook her head at him. “That is where we differ, Mondoor. Everything I do is with my heart. It is who I am and to change that would be to change me,” she said.

  “I do not wish you changed,” replied Mondoor, “only protected and prepared for all that we face, even the truth. It can be a grim world. We must do our best, but also, we must accept what could be sacrificed for the greater of good. Good men and women will fall today, perhaps even those close to our hearts. You have to accept that in the end, Calla, for no one is untouchable from this, not even Theophilus Thistle.”

  She held a finger out to stop him. “Do not say such things, not ever in my presence. It may seem silly to cling to hopes but hope is what compels us to stand when we would have surely fallen. And no creature has inspired more hope in my eyes than Theophilus. Do not diminish that now with words of a grim reality,” she stated firmly.

  Mondoor lowered his head apologetically. “I meant no disrespect, Calla. Theophilus is an honorable soul and deserves great accolades. I simply want you prepared for reality, no matter what unfolds. I was forced to understand this. Even Theophilus knows this. He loves like you, yet he also understands the cost of the greater good. This makes him quite dangerous, yet places him in peril,” he said.

  Something in Mondoor’s words made Calla’s eyes narrow as she evaluated him. “What are you not telling me?” she demanded.

  Realizing there was no hiding it any longer, Mondoor sighed as he procured a small, folded parchment. Holding it up, he looked on it somberly. “I was hoping to give you this when we arrived in Lunamorn, but I suppose it can wait no longer. This is a letter to you, from Theophilus. He asked me to give it to you. I won’t lie, there was a part of me that wanted to burn it, for I sorely wish you could one day look at me the way you look upon him. But to deny you this letter would make me unworthy of you in the end,” he said before offering the letter to Calla.

  Calla snatched it up quickly as she looked at him with stunned anger. Opening it swiftly, the pink lotus fumbled with the folded parchment before revealing its contents. Instantly she saw the written words from Patch and ached for him all over again. The world around her dissolved as she proceeded to read.

  Calla,

  As you read this, I am undoubtedly facing an evil for which I will likely not return. I go to this peril with a liberated conscience, for you are safe and that is enough for me. I damn the fate that has pulled us apart, yet I know I could not abide a world that is devoid of you. And with my last breaths if I must, I will see that such an outcome never comes to pass. Norrex is pure in his evil and cannot be deterred from his plight. So as Captain Shael faces the encroaching horde, I will face Norrex one last time. What happens after that will be decided in battle.

  I go to this fight, not with anger in my heart, but with love. For it was love wrought by you that inspired me to be better than I ever thought I could be. I have felt more in my short span with you than I did in an entire lifetime. I cannot help but be grateful for that, for you are the greatest thing that has happened to me. You have planted a wonderful seed within me, one that forced me to grow, one that made me know love. And that is the great truth in the end, my reason to fight, and what drives me on when nothing else will. And that is this:

  I love you, Calla of Alethia, and in this life or the Dream, that shall go on forever unchanged.

  Yours always,

  Theophilus

  Before Calla realized it, her tears were falling upon the parchment. Slowly she folded the note back up, holding it to her chest as she wept. Something in her broke then, yet it wasn’t merely pain that filled her body. She felt a surge of overwhelming emotion and a clarity at long last. Calla was no longer burdened with doubt, for now she allowed her heart to shine above all such things.

  Mondoor placed a hand over her shoulders, offering a gentle embrace. “It is okay to cry, Calla. Let it out now, for you are safe here with me,” he said.

  Calla’s head rose then as she looked at Mondoor with grim determination. “Stop the carriage,” she commanded.

  Mondoor was taken aback by her words. “Calla, what do you mean?” he asked.

  “Now,” she said firmly.

  Mondoor was shaken by Calla's demand, yet he reluctantly complied. Rapping upon the carriage, he ordered the driver to halt. The driver did as instructed and pulled the reins upon the floral mounts as they descended to the ground. The carriage made a graceful and gentle landing within the grasses near a road. The accompaniment of royal guard circled overhead, keeping a watchful eye as they wondered what was going on.

  Now safely upon the ground, Calla pushed passed Mondoor and opened the carriage door. Quickly she leaped from inside, landing on the ground and grateful to feel the grasses beneath her feet. She looked about, deciding her next course before looking above. She pointed to one of the circling guardsmen before calling out to him.

  "You! Come down here at once," she commanded.

  As the guard complied, Mondoor exited the carriage. "What are you doing, Calla?" he asked in his confusion.

  Calla tapped her foot as she waited on the descending guardsman. "What I should have done from the very beginning," she said angrily. "I am going to join my friends. Our fates will be one in the same."

  Mondoor held out h
is hands, wishing to calm the pink lotus flower. "Calla, you must answer to reason. It is too late for such things. You have only delayed our response to the threat by halting our journey."

  She looked at him fiercely, narrowing her eyes as her fists went to her hips. "We will see about that, Mondoor," she snapped.

  Mondoor took a deep, calming breath, hoping that the time would allow Calla to do the same. "Think about this. Hear my words and please understand the reasoning behind them. We must stay the course. Please I beg you, let reason prevail and let us return to our duties," he said.

  Calla shook her head at him. "That is the problem, Mondoor. You want reason and to control it like a dam holding back the water. But we will not prevail this way. Theophilus is out there. Our friends are out there. And they are all fighting with their hearts. That is how we vanquish the darkness. And I will not turn from Theophilus again or doubt myself any longer," she said.

  "Calla...please," whispered Mondoor as he motioned for her to return to the carriage.

  Calla shook her head. "No. I won't be returning to such a life ever again," she offered as the guardsman came to a landing near her. She approached him swiftly, pointing at his flying mount. "I need your flyer, soldier," she stated with absolute firmness.

  The guard shook his head. "I am sorry, milady, but I have my orders. I am here to keep you and Mondoor safe," he replied.

  Calla practically growled as she placed her face only a small span from his. "There will be no safety for anyone if you don't get off of that mount right this instant," she said.

  Confused by this, the guard looked curiously to Mondoor. "Sir?"

  Lowering his head, Mondoor motioned for the guardsman to get off. "You best do as she says, soldier. There is no deterring her now and we have a mission to accomplish," he said, inwardly defeated.