In Defense of Honor: A New Original Fairy Tale
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Malady with Anger’s arrows. I’ll not be disappointing you with these. They fly straight and true, into the heart of your enemy.” He cracked her a seething smile that made her shiver.
It wasn’t debated. Honor was going to fight for them, and with that fact in mind, the village dispersed into their homes, leaving Honor standing there, Goodness and Strength staring up at her.
“Remember,” Strength said, obviously having difficulty releasing his daughter for this journey, “you are Strength’s daughter. It is a name in your blood.” He turned away, too strong to show the women in his life the terror that was reflected by the tears in his eyes.
Goodness, though, could say nothing. Though she supported Honor, knowing she was trying to do the right thing, that same terror was reflected in her eyes. They returned to their small home in silence, where Honor donned one more thing, a defense of her own making: chain mail that draped over her gown. This, Honor called Pride. It was heavy on her shoulders, but Honor felt this was no fight she could face without it.
Taking up the weapons entrusted to her by her neighbors, Honor set out toward the forest of Confusion, only a few steps from the edge of Hesitation.
The brush of the forest waved in the slight breeze that lifted Honor’s hair from her face. The leaves danced for her, trying to send her the message she needed, despite the fact that they did not actually know what that was.
With her first few steps, the branches caught on her skirt, trying to pull her away from the danger that lay amongst the peaceful-looking trees, but the Pride brushed past them as well, its weight enough to stop their barbs. As she stepped into the shadows, away from the last few fingers of light that shown through the leaves, something grey flashed before her eyes, making her stumble away, once more landing on her back, staring up at the branches above her. Something snuffled at her ear. Honor jumped away from it, crouching on her knees, ashamed to find herself shaking and face to face with a Fear.
She could see the Fear’s ribcage through his thick, matted fur. He pulled his teeth back, a silent warning to her – a silent promise: he would remain with her here. This Fear would be her companion until she died…or returned to the edge of the forest of Confusion. Nipping at her hand, Honor jerked away. “Please,” she started, unsure how to finish. She knew there was no choice in this matter, however, and the Fear seemed to sense her impending acceptance of his constant presence.
Still shaking, Honor stood slowly, making her way further into the depths of the forest. She slipped an Anger into the nock of her Disgust, and above the eerie silence of the forest she could hear the wood bouncing together as she advanced.
The Fear nipped at her heels as she walked, making her move more and more quickly. Practically running, the Fear pursuing her, she barely caught the movement up ahead. Heart beating a rapid pace, matching in time with the snapping of the Fear’s jaws, Honor slowed.
The trees did not thin, yet Honor could see an opening between the thick trunks somewhere ahead. The Fear grew silent, but he was still next to her, leaning against her leg, pressuring her to go back. He did not speak, yet Honor could feel his sentiments.
“No,” she said, even more forcefully than she intended. “I will do this.”
Setting her jaw, Honor stepped toward the clearing, Disgust at the ready. But she was surprised – all that lay before her was a lake, shimmering in the blinding midday sun.
A small smile lit her features as she raised her face to the light, enjoying the warmth on her skin.
The moment was fleeting, all too brief as something, though Honor could not be sure what, rose from the water. Shooting blindly, she cried out as she was roughly shoved forward. The water pulled at her, shocks of bright magenta weaving through the streams that pulled Honor back by her arms. Out into the depths of the lake, it seemed an eternity before Honor was released, the magenta sparks settling back into a dim but constant circle around her.
The weapons she’d been gifted were gone and Honor could hear the Fear howling, somewhere. “No, I must find Distrust!” Perhaps, she added silently, I might use it as a raft. But the water, as wicked as the sparks themselves, had another idea altogether.
A cry of terror and helplessness rose in her throat and was washed away by the waters that converged upon her. She was drowning, her Pride pulling her into the darkness of the lake. The surface was rising away from her, the magenta sparks going with it, and, for a moment, Honor was sure she was as good as gone. She would have preferred the Fear to claim her as opposed to this ending.
Perhaps, but her mother had given her a good heart, and her father had given her his strength. His words resounded in her ears, and Honor suddenly knew what to do. Precious oxygen running low, Honor struggled to remove her Pride, the chain mail gown she had made herself.
It caught in her hair, and Honor let out an involuntary cry, feeling it pull at her scalp, until finally she got it off, and swam as hard as she could up and away from the treacherous depths of the lake.
Gasping for air, Honor flung herself onto the shore of the lake. She pulled herself away from it, lodging herself next to a fallen tree and wrapping her hands around a thick branch, terrified she would be pulled in once more.
Shrill laughter permeated the leaves, making the Fear dance by Honor’s side, agitated by the sound.
Swooping from amongst the branches came a tall eerie figure, dripping in bright magenta cloth. Her hair was bound tightly, piled in a sort of graceful mess atop her head. Despite the evil that seemed to seep into the immediate area, coming from her in waves, the woman was beautiful. Honor might not have known who she was immediately, but one hand was covered in boils, the other had fingers that were black, prepared to fall away as a snake might shed his skin.
This was Malady, Honor thought with sudden conviction. “I’ve been sent to kill you.” Her words were meant to be powerful, determined words like she had spoken to the Fear earlier. Between her gasping breath and the Fear that nipped her hands, Honor knew they came out lax.
“You honestly believe you can best me, little girl.” It was a statement, not a question, and Malady seemed to find a great deal of amusement in it. She approached, smirking to the young girl. “You have about two minutes left with my hands around your pretty little neck and by then,” she chuckled, “you’ll have changed your mind.”
The Fear danced around Honor’s head as her hands were forced away from their grip. Malady placed thin, withered hands, disgusting with dirt and grime, around Honor’s neck even as she kicked, trying desperately to squirm away.
You must give up, came a voice through the fog of Honor’s mind.
“I can’t!” she automatically replied, the words coming out between struggled breaths.
You must! Are you not afraid?
It was the Fear, Honor realized. The Fear was trying to get her to give in to the death that loomed like a cloud, approaching, sucking the life from her lungs.
“Of course I am,” Honor managed, “but I cannot give up…I must fight…”
Her breath was coming shallowly now, when all of a sudden, a burst of light threw the forest into sharp contrast. Screeching, Malady thrust herself away from Honor, knocking herself into a tree. Once the light faded and Honor could see once more, a white wolf stood over her. His fur seemed luminescent, comforting her in a warm glow.
“Fight, then,” he said, turning his bright blue eyes on her.
“I…I haven’t got a weapon.”
He turned to look at the ground next to her, and there was a sword, glimmering in the odd light.
“Made from pure knowledge, I give you Perseverance.” He looked at her once more, shaking himself, light seeming to dance from his fur and landing around them. “Just as I have become your Courage, so has your pride transformed into this.”
Honor was dazed for a moment, until, upon hearing the rustling in the leaves of Malady coming to, she shook her head, as if shaking away the fog of a dream. Courage took a stance next to her as Honor stood, pulling the sword �
�� Perseverance – from the ground and into her hands. It was easier to wield than she had expected, and she stepped forward, suddenly sure of herself.
Without a word, even as Malady opened her mouth to bring terror back into Honor’s heart, Honor lifted her Perseverance, plunging it into the heart of Malady.
In a flash of dark blue, Malady’s scream died within the confines of the forest, and Honor cried for joy, for Courage, and for overcoming the enemy that lay within.
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Honor returned to Hesitation later that day, exhausted. When she arrived, the villagers were shocked, and made a show of praising Honor, though, truthfully, they had done nothing to assist her (though Honor would never admit it).
She slept for two whole days, Courage curled into a ball at the foot of her bed. He remained silent and docile, though driving away any unwanted visitors. Courage would nudge his new mistress on occasion, as if to remind her she had survived, and had accomplished all the things that, as Honor was drifting in and out of consciousness, felt increasingly like a dream.
When she woke, she relayed her tale to the villagers, who were unsure what to believe. But Honor did not mind their doubts – it was, after all, within their nature.
Goodness and Strength, grateful to have their daughter home, welcomed her back with immense relief.
“I believe we ought to leave,” she told