Thronegarden

by Andrew Dickerson

  “It can be done, I know it,” Damselfly disputed.

  “I wish you well with your quest,” Bakka offered. “What will you do?” Buttons enquired.

  The great smith considered his next move for a few seconds before replying.

  “It is time for me to rediscover my love for my work and my home. I will drop you off at the nearest gate and perhaps our paths will cross again someday.”

  Damselfly was reticent as they took their final ride in Furio towards the gate. She was trying to think of a way to enter the Evergarden and nothing was coming to her. Uriel, who had sent her on this mission, had said the Matriarch would know the answers; however, she had only shown them to this point, and now Bakka the great smith had told them it was impossible. Damselfly would not give up though she was lost on how to keep going when everything seemed set against them. They could not wait for inspiration either with Orion somewhere close behind. The princess was desperately homesick in her moment of indecision; she wanted to hear one of Old Nana’s stories, or play with Trigger and hear her mother’s voice. Thoughts of her mother strengthened Damselfly’s resolve; she would not allow Death to take her mother away and that meant finding a way to reach the Evergarden. They seemed to reach the gate in the blink of an eye. That’s how it seemed to Damselfly anyway. Bakka waved goodbye until Furio had taken him beyond the horizon, leaving Damselfly and Buttons alone once again.

  “What now?” Buttontail asked.

  “We have to find a way to reach the Evergarden,” the princess insisted.

  “Why do we always have to put ourselves in danger?” Buttons revolted. “Maybe we should have some fun for a change.”

  “We have to save my mother,” Damselfly stated.

  “Well, I’m sick of risking my fur. Why can’t we visit the Dreamgarden, that sounds like fun?” Buttons queried.

  “Once we rescue my mother, we can go wherever you like,” the princess vowed.

  “What if we never succeed?” Buttons posed. “Bakka said it was impossible and he should know; he created the Evergarden.”

  “I cannot accept that,” Damselfly replied stubbornly. “Well, I can.”

  Buttontail grabbed the skeleton key from Damselfly and raced towards the gate with the princess following close behind. The rabbit thrust the key into the gate and when he saw the Dreamgarden appear walked forward into it.

  Chapter 11

  The Best and Worst of Times

  Buttontail was standing in the corridor of Thronegarden wearing his waistcoat and the golden button adorning his missing tail. A door opened, omitting Tyten, the leader of the royal army, who was dressed in his shining armour, wearing a sword on his hip and a look of duty in his pale blue eyes.

  “It is an honour for me to be a part of this special day,” Tyten acquiesced.

  With no further ado, the captain led them back towards the royal chambers, and Buttons eagerly followed, feeling butterflies dance in his stomach. For once the response was triggered by nerves rather than hunger. As they entered the atrium,

  Buttons could see the hierarchy of Thronegarden in attendance just for him. Tyten escorted him to a raised dais where Librarian Scroll stood waiting in his ceremonial robes. Captain Tyten bowed deeply, allowing his long golden hair to touch his knee before stepping back to keep guard over them. A trumpet was blown to signal the start of proceedings, and almost instantly King Handel appeared beside Buttons, wearing his grandest attire. Unlike their last encounter, the king looked a picture of vitality: his beard held a dark luster and his eyes were clear in their assessment.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Librarian Scroll began. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the achievements of a special member of our community, an individual who has proven his worth many times without ever asking for reward. A shining example to us all of how to be a faithful servant and loyal friend.”

  Buttontail could see a line of regal-looking soldiers creating an honour guard. Behind them stood the rest of the royal family along with their highest-ranking servants. He searched for Damselfly amongst the congregation. Though he could not find her, Buttons was certain that she was watching.

  “Today we present Buttontail with the medal of bravery as a reminder of his timeless courage and sacrifice,” Librarian Scroll announced.

  A thin, black box was brought forward by a page. The king deftly opened it before taking out a large golden star with eight points and a rainbow ribbon.

  “Let all denizens of Thronegarden aspire to Buttontail’s fine example,” the king pronounced as he pinned the medal upon Buttons waistcoat.

  The hall erupted in thunderous applause with the soldiers banging their weapons on the ground to create a rhythm that seemed to last forever. Buttons stood proudly admiring his new medal, which was so shiny he could see his reflection in it.

  “Now it is time for a great feast in celebration of our brave hero,” Librarian Scroll proposed.

  Buttons, who was the special guest of honour, followed the king to a large table filled with freshly cooked treats; the smell alone was enough to make the brave rabbit

  salivate. Around the banquet table were many familiar faces including the king’s brother, Abeldine, Queen Etherelle, Palen, the tutor, Old Nana, Judge Vale and Pariah, the Master of Bells. Amongst these familiar visages, there was one whom Buttons did not know, a young woman with strawberry blond hair that framed her beautiful face and so it was surprising when the maiden spoke to him by name.

  “Well done, Buttons,” she congratulated.

  “Damselfly,” he replied incredulously, recognising his friend’s melodic voice.

  “Yes, it is me,” the princess confirmed.

  “What is going on?” Buttons questioned.

  “You brought us to the Dreamgarden,” Damselfly answered. “At first I was rather angry, but I do like it here.”

  Rather than partaking of the bountiful food, Damselfly was using her cutlery to view her own reflection. Buttons who was slightly disappointed that all this had been a dream managed to comfort himself by devouring an entire trifle.

  “Being brave sure builds up an appetite,” he scoffed between mouthfuls.

  “I always wanted to be tall and pretty.” Damselfly focused on her reflection. “Do you think I am pretty?”

  “You always looked pretty to me,” Buttons responded.

  “No, I mean really pretty,” the princess scolded.

  Buttons, who did not understand what Damselfly meant, continued his earnest assault on a roast duck before devouring a mountain of chocolate gateaux. As the meal progressed, performers appeared to offer entertainment. Pan began juggling dirty plates while Polter and Geist produced acrobatic flips and tricks to amaze their audience. Lark began singing a warm ballad that flowed across the room like a breeze.

  ‘How sweet the fruit tastes you will learn,

  My fair maiden,

  Is how long it takes for the worm to turn,

  In the Dreamgarden.’

  “This place is great,” Buttons crowed. “Why doesn’t everyone stay here?”

  After the revelry had come to a natural climax, Pilgrim began telling them a legend to help with their digestion. Damselfly, who was usually enchanted by any story, seemed not to hear or see anything past her own reflection. Even her mother sitting restored beside her appeared lost on the now beautiful princess.

  “There is more to life than beauty,” Buttons warned.

  “I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment,” Damselfly replied.

  “Why should you do that?”

  “None of this is real, Buttons. My mother is still sick, Uncle Abeldine is mad and we are neither brave nor beautiful.”

  “I don’t know, it is all rather confusing,” Buttons stated.

  The gluttonous rabbit decided to ease his concern by tucking into a chocolate éclair. Unfortunately, as he took his first bite, he felt a tooth come loose. Within moments Buttontail’s teeth were falling like rain onto the tablecloth.

  “I guess there i
s still ice cream,” he mumbled.

  Damselfly finally chose to look up from her reflection, only to discover Orion facing her across the room and looking extremely angry.

  “Buttons, I think Orion is still chasing us,” she warned.

  The rabbit, who was trying to glue his teeth back in using blobs of cream, dismissed the idea. This was a dream; how could they come to any harm when nothing around them was real?

  That was when Buttons’ medal for bravery metamorphosed into a large spider and began climbing towards his toothless mouth. Damselfly’s fear felt legitimate enough as Orion strode across the hall purposefully, and before Buttons could argue, the princess had grabbed his hand and began running for the exit. Strangely, the door appeared to get further away even as they ran towards it. Orion barely seemed to be moving though he closed the gap on them exponentially, and while Buttons finally managed to free himself from the spider crawling over his waistcoat, there was no escaping the persistent sorcerer.

  “I have come to take you home,” Orion called.

  Damselfly finally reached the door, only to find it had shrunk and she was unable to fit through it.

  “It has not got smaller, you are larger,” Buttons pointed out.

  With this information Damselfly willed herself to return to normal, sacrificing her new found beauty and elegance. Orion had passed the table where their family continued to revel, oblivious to any danger that may come to the princess and her faithful companion.

  “You’re you again,” Buttons cried.

  Damselfly discovered that indeed she was back to her regular size and immediately pushed through the door with Buttons following close behind. They found themselves in a long corridor that seemed to go on forever. With Orion now only a few feet behind them they were forced to flee.

  “This corridor has no end,” Buttons stated.

  “I wish we could wake up,” Damselfly uttered.

  A bank of windows lined the corridor though they could not see anything out of them, only their own reflection as they ran down a never-ending tunnel.

  “Quick, this way.”

  Amazingly, Rat, the orphan, appeared from a hidden passage to show them the way; however, as Damselfly and Buttontail took the detour, they found the floor beneath them give way and they fell into a sea of darkness.

  “Whose dream is this?”

  Damselfly and Buttontail found themselves lying by the side of a long road lined with apple trees.

  “I hate spiders.” Buttons searched the long grass for any signs of arachnids.

  Damselfly was focused on their current location: a place she was certain they had never been before though it felt familiar. A light breeze blew down the road, creating a whisper amongst the ripening foliage. Then they heard footsteps coming down the road towards them. A man emerged wearing a long coat for warmth.

  “Uncle Abeldine,” Damselfly gasped.

  “He looks different,” Buttons commented.

  It was true, although the resemblance was unmistakable to the old king. It was a very different man who walked past them without acknowledging their presence. Abeldine’s hair was raven wing black with no sign of silver, his beard was well groomed, his back straight and shoulders broad beneath his wrappings.

  “I don’t think he can see us,” the princess revealed. “What are we doing here?” Buttons questioned.

  Abeldine strode purposefully towards his target which appeared to be the largest of the apple trees, an ancient finger of nature that stood over twelve feet tall and had been alive for centuries.

  “What can I do?” Abeldine asked the tree.

  “Why is he talking to a tree?” Buttons queried.

  “We should get closer,” Damselfly urged.

  As they neared the giant tree, Princess Damselfly realised that her uncle was not speaking directly with nature, an old friend was perched high in the branches.

  “Phoebus.”

  The wise owl also looked different from the last time they had spoken in the Magicgarden: his plumage was brighter and his wide eyes clearer.

  “You, Abeldine Thrane, have been chosen to represent Fable against the tyrant,” Phoebus pronounced.

  “How can I hope to defeat the greatest sorcerer alive?” her uncle posed.

  “You will be given the means to fight this battle, if you prove yourself worthy of nature’s gift,” Phoebus stated.

  “I am not worthy,” Abeldine confessed. “Choose someone else.”

  “There is no one else,” Phoebus sentenced. “Without you, the Fairy King will remain undisputed in his claim of this kingdom and Fable will slowly die to feed his ambition.”

  “I am no soldier, no hero,” Abeldine argued.

  “You are chosen,” Phoebus decreed.

  “What must I do?”

  Damselfly could not bear to watch any longer. Seeing her uncle torn between doubt and destiny, she came forward to assure him, only to find he could not see or hear her.

  “Your love for the Lady Claravel is the purest in all of Fable it alone can create a shield strong enough to protect the realm from the Fairy King’s magic,” Phoebus explained.

  “I must sacrifice my betrothed?” Abeldine was visibly shaken. “Ask me anything else, but do not take away my true love.”

  “It is the only way,” the owl taught.

  Abeldine wrung his hands, showing his inner turmoil, as he weighed his love for the Lady Claravel against that of his duty to Fable.

  “How do I know that doing this will stop the Fairy King?” he asked.

  “You must believe in this as you believe in love.”

  Abeldine looked back down the road he had travelled, no doubt considering his options and what awaited him back home.

  “What must I do?” he questioned.

  “You have to let her go,” Phoebus answered.

  Abeldine walked up to the tree where he stood protected in the shadow of that great pillar. One of the branches had a deep groove where the future king’s tears pooled as he sacrificed the one thing most important in the world to him. When the final tear had been shed, they formed a bell, powerful enough to stop a magician.

  “Guard this well for in the wrong hands it can do great harm,” Phoebus warned.

  Abeldine clutched the bell in his hand; it shimmered briefly as if weeping and then released a sound so beautiful Damselfly thought her heart might break. It brought a swift wind that rushed down the road in a funnel, whispering secrets to the trees and carrying Abeldine away. Princess Damselfly walked up to the tree where she could see Phoebus perched on his throne.

  “What happened next?” Damselfly requested.

  “You already know. The Fairy King was defeated and Fable saved,” Phoebus replied haughtily.

  “What you really want to know is what followed,” the sage owl corrected.

  “After ascending the throne, Abeldine lost his purpose. Unable to replace the love that he had sacrificed, his heart began to grow cold and black. Power may have corrupted him like so many others if something or someone had not shown him the light.”

  “Was it Lady Claravel?” Damselfly guessed.

  “No, what happened to that young lady is an altogether different tale,” Phoebus responded.

  “When Abeldine’s brother had a daughter, his niece, Abeldine was finally capable of feeling love once again.”

  “I want to help him,” the princess pleaded.

  “You must continue the journey he began.”

  “Will I end up like him?”

  “I am wise,” Phoebus stated. “Yet even I cannot tell the future.”

  Damselfly felt even more confused than before. Questions about her family and her mission threatened to overwhelm reason. Phoebus, sensing the child’s distress, offered her a sign which would have severe ramifications.

  “King Abeldine was afraid the bell in his possession would be stolen or lost, so he decided to keep it somewhere safe, with the person he loved and trusted the most. He hid the bell inside his niece�
��s crib one night, only to discover later that the baby had swallowed it and lost her ability to speak. The king cursed himself bitterly, beginning his road to madness, while a helpful owl managed to retrieve the bell. It was not the last passage in this saga.”

  “The owl decided to look down the girl’s throat. It was very dark but deep down he could see a bell. Before it could sound a note, the owl hooked it out like a worm from a well,” Damselfly quoted.

  “Very good,” Phoebus praised. “You have a gift for remembering stories.”

  “Where is the bell now?” the princess asked.

  “That is the most important question of all,” the owl announced.

  “It is a secret not given freely. These trees are malevolent when it comes to their hidden knowledge.”

  “They can have my skeleton key crafted by Bakka, or my wings given flight by the Matriarch,” Damselfly bartered.

  “No,” Phoebus replied. “You will need these items to continue your quest, while I have played my part, or almost. I will trade my wisdom for the answer to your question and let the fates decide.”

  “No, I have seen you without your wits and it is terribly sad,” the princess warned.

  “Better to be a senile hero than a smart coward,” the owl hooted.

  “How can you give up your knowledge when I have already met you without them?” Damselfly posed.

  “This is a dream. Who’s to say any of this is real,” Phoebus answered cryptically.

  A northerly wind had picked up rapidly, threatening to tear the trees up from their roots, and Phoebus had to flap his wings to remain in his perch.

  “The bell was stolen one night from your crib by a shade,” the owl revealed before being blown away.

  Damselfly, who was also being buffeted by a howling gale, pondered on this information while Buttons burrowed into the ground to try and escape the storm.

  “What good does that do us?” the rabbit queried.

  “I know where we have to go,” Damselfly revealed. “We have to go to Shadowgarden.”

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Buttons cried.