The Gully Snipe (The Dual World Book 1)

by JF Smith

  Gully looked at the Archbishop with concern, and waited for him to speak.

  The Archbishop stepped closer and took Gully’s hand gently, “Forgive me, Highness... in the rush of your previous coronation, I neglected to ask you by which name you would choose to rule, and I assumed King Thayliss in my lapse. Tonight, I do not make this mistake again. Before we go to complete the ceremony, tell me, is there a name you prefer to take as king of Bal’Iisen?”

  Gully relaxed and thought for a moment. In a way, he was glad he had little time to dwell on the question, because it was one he would have agonized over otherwise. But with a whole kingdom waiting for him outside the tent, his heart landed on its choice with ease. If he would choose a name, there was not one he would more readily choose than the one of whom he missed more than any other.

  From a pocket, he took the small carving of the fox that Wyael had given him and turned it over in his hands. He said, “I... I wish to honor the man that still occupies my heart as my father. Please, Archbishop, I wish to be known as King Ollon the First, of Bal’Iisen.”

  Nellist bowed his head low and said, “I welcome you to your kingdom and to your people, King Ollon, First of the Name.”

  He held the flap of the tent open, and the first king of Bal’Iisen, with his beloved fox cradled in his hands, stepped out to be received by the people waiting for him amidst the white snow of the first of spring, the flickering pale golden light of the torches, and the deep indigo sky of the first new night of the very first day of the dual kingdom, Bal’Iisen.

  Postlude — The End Of The Story

  “Some would say that this is the story of how a little thief stole an entire kingdom, and then destroyed it,” said Pops as he stared across at room at the stars circling around them slowly, “but I don’t think that’s what this is at all. This story is how a boy, maybe no better than a thief, but no less than a king, took something and made it far better than it ever could have been without him.”

  Pops took a deep breath, then shook Tony by the shoulder a few times as he looked over at him.

  His grandson, though, had tears in his eyes and he looked miserable. Tony coughed again and looked up at his grandfather as he cried.

  Pops pulled Tony close to his side as they sat up on the bed. “What’s this, now? What in the world are you crying for?” he asked plaintively. “Am I that bad of a storyteller?”

  Tony suddenly tried to laugh and cough and cry at the same time.

  “Hmm?” said his grandfather.

  “No, but I don’t like this story now, Pops!” said Tony as he wiped the short sleeve of his pajama top across his nose.

  “Don’t like it?! What for? You always loved it when your dad or I would tell you this story!” said his Pops.

  “He just gave up on his dad! He’s still out there somewhere and Gully just gave up on him!” said Tony, having to choke the words out as fresh tears fell.

  His Pops sighed deeply and stared off for a moment while he tried to reply.

  “Well, now... I wouldn’t go that far,” he drawled. “Think about this... how long had Gully been without his dad?”

  Tony sniffled, “Ten... ten years.”

  “And what did he do for almost that whole time?” asked Pops.

  Tony blinked his eyes as the tears fell out, but he didn’t reply.

  “He looked for his dad for ten whole years, didn’t he? That’s a long time!” insisted his grandfather, giving Tony another squeeze around his shoulder.

  “Yeah,” said Tony sadly.

  “And it’s not that he gave up,” said his grandfather. “But he had other people depending on him now. A whole kingdom! Right?”

  Tony nodded weakly, the pain of so much loss in his life written so clearly on his face that his grandfather could see it as plain as the full moon on a clear night.

  Pops exhaled heavily and whispered, “I know you miss him so much, Tony. I do, too, you know?” He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair for a moment and added gently, “It’s ok to miss him, squirt. I sure do. But we’re still here even if your dad isn’t, and we’ve got to be here for each other. Right?”

  Tony nodded again, but said, “I just don’t want Gully to feel all alone.”

  Pops suppressed the wry grin that tried to steal across his face. “Oh, he’s got all these people that care about him! People that would give their lives for him! He can miss his dad, and you can miss yours, but that doesn’t make you alone. Gully finally saw that... it’s part of the growing up he did. Part of accepting the responsibility that came with him becoming a grown-up.”

  Tony looked up at his grandfather like his heart was still broken.

  “Not all fairy tales end exactly how you expect, Tony. Sometimes, the real story isn’t even what you think it is. And they don’t always wrap up perfect and happy in every way,” said Pops as gently as he could.

  “It was time for Gully to move on, even if he could have had a whole kingdom out looking for his dad. And he had a lot of people depending on him now. Sometimes, people like that are a little bit set off from everyone else because they have a very big job to do. But everybody has to figure out their place in the world sooner or later, squirt! You and me are lucky... our places in the world are a lot simpler, right? And we’ve got each other! Just don’t be sad for Gully. He’s ready for what he has to do, and he has people he really trusts to be there with him. You see?”

  Tony poked his bottom lip out for a moment, coughed again as he thought about it, and then shrugged. He said, not quite convinced, “Yeah, I guess.” His tears had begun to dry, though.

  “You still hate the story?” asked Pops.

  Tony wrinkled up his face. He said, “No, I don’t hate it... not really. It’s just he had a lot tougher time than in the short version you and dad used to tell me.”

  Pops lifted his arm from around Tony’s shoulder and instead took his hand and held it in his own.

  “Well,” said Pops, “growing up and accepting responsibility is a tough thing to do. We all have to grow up sometime and learn a lot as we go along, right? Even the Gully Snipe.”

  Tony nodded, then asked, “But Bal’Iisen was safe, right? Once they had the balmors with them and Gully became king, they were safe from then on, right? The Maqarans never invaded again, did they?”

  Pops pursed his lips and said, “Well… the full story of Bal’Iisen isn’t done, even now. But the kingdom is in a much better place than it was before, that’s for sure.”

  Tony stared ahead while he thought about how unsatisfactory that answer was.

  “Nothing’s ever guaranteed, Tony.”

  Tony shrugged. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  Pops let out a happy chuff of a laugh at how grouchy his grandson’s question came out. “It’s supposed to help prepare you for life.”

  Tony watched the lights swirl around his room in their languid circuit.

  “So,” he finally asked, “what’s the thing with the circle?”

  “What circle?” asked Pops.

  “The thing King Gully felt down deep inside. The thing about not really being given a choice to create Bal’Iisen. You know… that the circle had to complete, or whatever.”

  Tony’s grandfather shook his head and said, “Wish I knew, kiddo. My dad never could answer that question, either, when I was your age and asked him the same thing. It’s just part of the story, so I keep it in there.”

  He looked down at his wrist and realized he wasn’t wearing a watch. “What time is it, anyway?” asked Pops.

  Tony glanced over at his alarm clock, but only said, “Uh... late.”

  Pops’ eyes narrowed and he said, “How late is late?”

  “Close to midnight.”

  Pops pretended to be shocked and annoyed, “What?! You let me keep you up this late when you’re sick? You’ve turned me into an awful grandpa!” He ruffled Tony’s hair again and said, “Guess you’ll probably need to stay home tomorrow to really finish recovering.�
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  “All right!” said Tony, hearing the best news of the night.

  “But no TV and no computer tomorrow if you’re recovering.”

  “Aww, Pops! No TV or laptop? I might as well go to school!”

  “Well, let’s see how you feel tomorrow. Maybe we can negotiate on the TV or computer,” said Pops. “A little.”

  Pops stood up from the bed. He leaned over and kissed his grandson on the forehead and said, “Scooch down, now, under the covers... it’s way past time for you to be asleep.”

  Tony slid down under the sheets and his grandfather tucked him in. He said to Tony, “You let me know if you feel worse during the night, now.”

  Tony nodded and Pops stepped to the door. “Lights on or off?”

  “Leave the stars on tonight, Pops. I like them,” said Tony, his voice muffled by the sheets pulled up over his mouth.

  “You got it, champ. Sleep tight, hear?” said Pops.

  He watched Tony snuggle down into his bed for a moment more, the stars gliding across his small face like blessings from a fairy tale, and then gently closed the door, wishing his grandson a night of peaceful sleep.

  ~~~ The End ~~~

  Mовilism =)