Fiction: The End of the Story

My first love was poetry, the second one was fiction. I still hope to be able to publish some fantasy novel someday.
In the meanwhile, here's a short story about my oracle that didn't make it in Wayfinder.

The End of the Story

“So our ways part here”, said the dwarf, deadly calm, while the grinding stone secret door slowly lowered between her and the human woman. “You’re out of spells, and I’m taking your spellbook with me just in case”. She waved it in her hand. “And however, the seals in this chamber block all arcane magic. This is farewell”.

“Chthoriane…” begged Pearl, struggling to get up from the floor. “I thought we were friends!”

“We were NEVER friends. We just had a common interest. You know nothing about me”. The dwarf spat. “And I sure didn’t know enough about you. There is plenty of loot to find in these old ruins, if one dares to take it. But you had to go and ruin everything for some old book!”

“But…” tried Pearl. “It isn’t just any old book! This magic library could have belonged to the Great Father Bard himself! The only proof that The Noble Prince and His Companions ever really existed could be in here! The unknown end of their story! That’s more precious than any treasure! I thought that you wanted to know as much as me! Aren’t you a bard too?”

“Who told you?” said the other woman, ironic. “Here’s another proof that you don’t know me. I’m not a bard. I’m a rogue. And neither you are, lady wizard. And sure I’m not so stupid to put my life at stake for some old tale. A nice tale, sure enough. A pretty child’s tale. But just that. It never was more than that. Only fools like you really believe to legends. And I’m not renouncing all this gold just for a legend and a fool. The Noble Prince is just a name on a piece of paper. And out there is the REAL world. A world for real, grown-up people, unlike you. Good staying in the world of books and dreams, Pearl. Let’s see how long you can eat and drink dreams before starving”.

The last chink clanged close. Echoing footsteps strayed in the distance, climbing up the stairs.

And the exhausted wizard was left alone in the vast underground chamber, surrounded by books. And she cried.

So here was the end of her quest. She would die here alone. And worst of all- she would never KNOW.

That story- that legend- it was the only thing to save her life when she was a lonesome child all wrapped up in her studies. When the other students laughed at her, bullied her, she could refuge in that old bard’s verses and find herself in company of friends. Heroes. That could fail, but never surrendered. That never forgot to smile and always got up after a defeat. And that eventually won. They reminded her that there were still good people in the world. That the world deserved another try.

She had to come here. She had to try finding the proof of their existence. And the fabled last volume left behind by the Great Father Bard, which nobody ever had read… she HAD to know how the story ended.

But now, her own story was to end first.

She had trusted that adventurer known by chance, one day, in a tavern. She seemed to share her enthusiasm for the ancient legend, to believe the clues indicating that the Bard’s last fabled manuscript could be in a lost city in the desert, half buried in the sands. Pearl had never known anyone willing to talk with her about her passion before. She had believed to have found a friend, a kindred soul. Pearl never was much of an adventurer -she barely had put her nose outside of home in her life- and it was good to think she could rely on someone who knew what she was about.

They had travelled together for months up to here, and Pearl never ceased to voice her fancies about the wonders waiting for them in the Great Father Bard’s last residence, but most of all, about the story of the heroes itself. They were more than characters, they were like friends to her. Discovering that they really had existed would have been the greatest joy of her life. Sometimes, she almost thought to hear their voices when she was alone in the dark-

She should have noticed how the dwarf became colder and more silent day by day. How she seemed annoyed by her childish ramblings. But Pearl had never been very good at understanding people. Just books and magic.

And when they finally found the ruins, right where the ancient papers said they would be- well, her companion was expecting something else from the place. That was clear now. She resented having had to fight wandering monsters, slides and traps just to find the library. She wanted something more concrete than paper and verses. Maybe she would find it elsewhere in the city. Maybe not. The wizardess would never have known.

Pearl eventually struggled to her feet. Maybe Chthoriane’s treason was a proof too. A proof that the world didn’t deserve the effort. Better to let out her last breath surrounded by the only friends that had never betrayed her: books.

She wandered the huge chamber, once again admiring the number and beauty of the ancient volumes, the golden ribs and brilliant colors. If the Great Bard read those same lines, stroke those same papers, maybe it was worthy to die in that buried palace for this alone. If only she could have known him. If only…

A lectern under a lightwell attracted her attention.

A great scratchpad was open on it, illuminated by a thin, dusty sunray that somehow had made its hard way all down here. An old quill laid near it on the table, as if just deposed while the writer went out for a minute. Pearl neared the book as magnetized.

And her heart leapt.

This was the Great Father Bard’s handwriting. She recognized it. So he had been here! She knew it had to be true! But there was more…

Trembling, she began turning the pages. Her blood started to fizzle. This was the book she had searched for. The book Chthoriane didn’t believe in.

The Noble Prince and His Companions really had existed! It was all written here! She knew all their stories by memory but this was the story she never had read before, the story nobody ever had read. Pearl lost herself in the verses, forgetting her captivity, her incoming death. How the Bard met them. How he travelled with them and witnessed all their mighty deeds. And in the end, how he faced together with them their most terrible enemy…

The last leaf was blank. Pearl’s singing heart sank. So it was true. The Great Father couldn’t complete his final work. She would have died happy knowing the truth. But how could she die so... unsatisfacted?

And then, her hand moved by its own.

Pearl stared blankly as her hand took the quill from the table, laying it on the paper. Ink seemed to drip from the point, coming from nowhere. She would have shrieked, but her voice stood still in her throat- while her hand started to write, by its own volition, in the Great Bard’s handwriting. A word after another. A line after another…

The end of the story!

How it really had to end!

Did the Great Bard... or maybe his work itself... choose her to finish what he couldn’t?

Her eyes devoured the words she herself was writing, eagerly, up to the last one. And then she signed, with her own name- and another…

And the last drops of ink sparkled and dispersed in the air, brightened by a ray of light from the well.

And there they were. In a mist of a million images and colors.

The Noble Prince and His Companions. Smiling. Beautiful. Ironic. Funny. In their colorful, bright armors. All around her, looking at her.

Pearl’s cheeks were moist with tears. “If I’m dying”, she said, “I don’t care”.

“You won’t die”, said the Wise Seer Maiden, smiling. “You believed in us, and that’s why you could find the way”.

“So was it the Great Father Bard? Did he send you to me?”

“Maybe”, said the Master of Masks, with a smirk. “Or maybe it was your own heart to create us”.

“Thank you”, added the Young Sage, “for giving us the chance to come back in this world”.

The wizardess didn’t know what to think. And she didn’t care. “Stay with me, please”, she begged. “Stay with me… forever”.

“We will stay”. The Prince gave a nod. “Look”. And he pointed to where the Half-Giant Warden was heaving up the heavy secret door again- or maybe it was raising of its own, sensing something that was not arcane power.

“If you want… we can stay with you forever. Even if we could be a… little nuisance sometimes. And you will stay with us one day. Now go. Go tell the world our last story…”