There once lived a poor man on the outskirts of a town.

He woke up early in the morning, the same as his neighbours.

He earned his bread as a peasant, the same as his neighbours.

He came home to his family at the end of the day, the same as his neighbours.

He was not too fat, nor too thin.

He was not too tall, nor too short.

However, there was one thing that set this man apart from his neighbours.

This man owned a Dragon egg.

He kept it hidden from those around him, but sought to hatch it and raise it himself.

However, the man was poor, and thus could not feed the Dragon when it hatched.

And so, the Dragon slowly starved, in spite of the man’s efforts.

Then, one day, a stranger wandered into the town.

Sensing the man’s plight, the stranger bestowed riches upon the man, and raised him from the dust.

Exalting, the man lavishly spent his newfound wealth upon the Dragon, feeding it feast after feast.

Munch Munch, Chomp Chomp, Gobble Gulp.

The Dragon ate everything the man gave it, and grew bigger.

Still, the man continued to gorge the Dragon, delighting every time its size increased.

Munch Munch, Chomp Chomp, Gobble Gulp.

Eventually, the Dragon grew so big and hungry, that the man could no longer satisfy it.

To appease it, the man used his entire fortune he had come across to feed it, but it was not enough.

The Dragon roared and growled, calling for the man to cure its insatiable hunger.

In desperation, the man fed his friends to it.

Munch Munch, Chomp Chomp, Gobble Gulp.

Yet still the Dragon hungered for more.

Next the man fed his relatives and family to the Dragon.

He thought to himself, “Surely, now, the Dragon will be satisfied”.

Munch Munch, Chomp Chomp, Gobble Gulp.

However, the Dragon would not be filled.

The man then spoke to the Dragon. He asked it:

“What is it you further ask of me? What more must I give you?”

Then the Dragon ate the man.

Munch Munch, Chomp Chomp, Gobble Gulp.

The Dragon’s name was Greed.

*******

“Well, how did you like your bedtime story?” A man said, poking at a sputtering fire.

“I didn’t like it one bit” a child said, pouting.

The man was tall and thin, as if he had been stretched out by his years. Although he didn’t appear particularly old, his features looked as if they had been weathered by rough living, adding years to his appearance. He had coal-black hair, faded grey eyes, and both his chin and ears were sharply chiseled into fine points. His clothes were rough and faded, with nothing but patches and faith holding them together at certain places, which, combined with his unshaven face and worn boots, spoke of a life of travel. On his head he wore a tattered peaked cap of a navy hue, and he kept a knitted red scarf wrapped tightly ‘round his neck in an attempt to ward off the cold.

The child across the fire from the man couldn’t have looked more different. Wrapped in a blanket, she looked about the age of six, with glossy brown hair, shining green eyes, and cheeks that still held the rosy tint of childhood. Despite the shabbiness and apparent poverty of her companion who slept in his outfit, she was dressed in her own tidy pair of pajamas, with a change of clothes laid out next to her for the morning.

“Feh, a good tale like that is wasted on a brat like you” the man muttered, laying back against a tree and covering his eyes with his hat.

“Papa, why don’t you tell any happy stories?” the girl asked, poking her head out from the blanket.

“It’s not a matter of happy or sad stories.” The man returned, lifting up his cap. “I just tell true stories. If they’re sad, I guess that’s simply because the truth is often sad. Besides, I told you to stop calling me that. My name is Splinterwick. Nicholas Splinterwick.”

“Too long!” the girl said, frowning. “Papa is Papa!”

“Look,” Splinterwick sighed, with that attitude of one repeating a long and tired argument. “Just because I found you doesn’t make me your dad, alright? I’m only going to take care of you until I can find someone who’d take you in.”

“Papa is Papa.” The girl repeated, yawning and sinking back into the blanket.

“Feh, have it your way, I don’t really care.” Splinterwick shrugged in defeat, shifting his position. “Just go to sleep already, if you’re too tired to walk tomorrow, I won’t carry you.”

The only response the man received was soft snores coming from inside the blanket.

“Asleep already?” The man yawned. “I suppose I should follow suit.”

“Good night, Primrose” the man whispered.

“Good night, Papa”

*******

The next day was one of those early days of autumn, where it seems as if the season can’t make up its mind as to whether or not to stay summer. The sun beat down on the mismatched pair as they walked, accompanied by the odd cool breeze that sent fresh-fallen leave swirling across their path. The slanting sunlight glinting between reddish leaves dyed the entire forest in a shining coppery hue, such as that even if the forest had been alight, it would not have shined more brilliantly.

“Where are we going today?” the little girl asked, breaking the silence.

“I thought we’d stop by the nearby town and stock up on supplies.” The man returned, hefting an empty rucksack. “I’ve been there before, we should be able to get a good deal.”

“What’s this town like?” the girl asked, skipping in front of him.

“Well, it’s a bit of a dull place.” The man replied, not slowing his pace any. “It’s known as the ‘City of Peace’, and I guess that pretty well sums it up. Ever since about twenty years ago, not one crime has been committed within the city, there are no poor, and everyone lives with the same relative conditions.”

“It sounds amazing!” the little girl responded, twirling around. “A town where everyone is nice to each other and there are no bad people!” She paused and looked up at Splinterwick. “Since everyone is so nice there, do you think we’ll finally be able to stay for a while?”

“Not a chance, we’re leaving as soon as I get supplies.” The man replied without looking at her.

“Papa.” The girl said softly. “Why do we never stay in a town for very long?”

The man sighed, and took off his hat, revealing his sharply-pointed ears. “You see these?” he said. “These mean I’m not a human. In the East, they call me a Djinn, here in the West, I’m known as a Pan.” He replaced the hat on his head and kept walking. “A creature like me has no place in human society, which is fine by me.”

The girl’s hands went to her ears. “Am I a Pan too?” she asked, pulling her ears curiously

“No, you’re just a human brat.” The man returned. “That’s why I should find someone to take you in as soon as possible.”

“I’m staying with Papa” the girl said, planting her feet.

“Keep up, or I’ll leave you behind right here.” The man cautioned

*******

Nine o’clock found the pair outside the gates of a large, imposing wall.

“Remember, in here you definitely can’t call me ‘Papa’, okay?” Splinterwick said, looking down at the girl. “I’m Nicholas Splinterwick.”

“Nicho…Ni…Nich…” The girl tried, scrunching up her face.

He sighed, and adjusted his cap. “How about Nick? Can you remember that, runt?”

“Nick!” the girl replied, smiling. “That’s easy!”

“Alright, just don’t forget it.” Splinterwick cautioned, strolling over to the booth adjacent to the rampart.

At the gate window stood a bored-faced guard who passed a tired gaze over the pair. “Name, occupation, reason for visiting, and duration of visit?” he monotoned

“Nicholas Splinterwick, puppeteer, to buy some supplies, hopefully no longer than one day.” Splinterwick returned. “Also, this is Primrose, a niece of mine”

“Enjoy your stay in Concordia, the City of Peace.” The man said, mechanically stamping a seal of approval on a card of paper which he promptly handed to Splinterwick. Pulling a small rope next to him, the soft peal of a bell sounded far above them. After a short delay, the gate slowly swung open, granting passage to the two.

Eyes bright, Primrose ran through the opening, disregarding her guardian’s shout of protest. Looking every which way at once, she took in the view of the so-called City of Peace.

Brightly coloured buildings lined a bustling street, each one stretching up higher than the last, as if engaged in a contest to hold up the brilliant blue sky, unspoiled by even one cloud of smoke. Sweeping arches, twisting spirals, and brilliant domes decorated each house and store, giving each one its own separate characteristics so that no two looked the same. Primrose dashed through the streets, passing by new sight after new sight. The streets were packed with people going hither and thither, yet there was a peaceful, serene calm about everyone. There were none of the calling merchants or yelling shoppers, boisterous porters, or the loudly-chatting villagers that plagued most city streets. Putting her hands out and spinning around, she was surprised to notice that the passersby actually walked around her, like a river flowing around a stone, instead of pushing right by her.

Giggling, she took off again, pointing at every new site. There! A fountain shaped like a unicorn, with a horn made out of flowing water! Over there, what’s this? A shop with candies in all the colours of the rainbow! Oh? The man gave her one for free! No time to stop! Look, look, that building is shaped like a bear, and that one has an awning like an eagle! Round the corner, jump over the golden aqueduct and…

Primrose stopped, exhaling in awe at the new sight before her. In the center of the town stood a castle, the size of which her vocabulary could not do justice to. Towering above all the other sights, the palace sent its crystalline spires reaching so high, they looked as though they pierced the very clouds. The building was made of some form of golden-glinting granite at the lower levels, which transformed into a shining silver stone around the middle, which at last gave way to a glossy, glistening glass that twisted in fantastic contortions as it made its way to the heavens.

Mouth wide open, Primrose danced about, trying to see the very highest point through the sunlight, and then, suddenly she was airborne! Or…so it seemed.

“Caught you at last!” A familiarly gruff voice panted behind her

Grabbing her up under both arms stood Splinterwick, huffing and out of breath.

“Papa!” She grinned, spinning around, and smiling at him. Then, remembering something, she covered her mouth. “Oops! I mean, Nick! There you are! Where did you go?”

“Where did I go?!?” he growled through clenched teeth. “I’ve been searching for you this entire time! Don’t just run off like that, you’ll get lost!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to” Primrose said, tears forming in her eyes. “You were worried?”

“Feh, no, of course not.” Splinterwick said, dropping her and pulling his cap down. “It’s just that if you caused trouble again, I don’t have much money to bail you out. Let’s go finish our shopping and leave, I already hate this place more than I remember.”

“Splinterwick?” an unfamiliar voice called out from behind them

Gritting his teeth as a look of disgust washed over his face, Splinterwick didn’t have to turn around to guess to whom the voice belonged.

“It really is you, Splinterwick!” the voice continued, and Primrose turned to see a grossly overweight man waddling towards them. He was clad in rich robes of vivid colours which stretched and rustled as his bulk jiggled, also causing the various gaudy jewelry dangling from him to clink and jangle obnoxiously. Oddly out of place among his extravagant ornaments was the simple crown or coronet of iron on his head, which sported no decorations other than some form of ancient text. Lining either side of him were rows of bored-faced guards in full regalia, looking for all the world like they would have loved to be anywhere else at that moment.

“Pa-Nick, who is that man?” Primrose asked, looking up at Splinterwick, who himself looked like he was doing his best to avoid eye contact with the man.

“Just keep on walking” he said, grabbing her and taking off in a brisk walk.

“Splinterwick old friend, wait for me!” the man called out again, breaking out into an awkward gait, some hybrid of a trot and a swagger.

“But who is he?” Primrose asked, trying to keep up with Splinterwick’s pace.

“Splinterwick, don’t be so cold!” The man wheezed behind them, trying vainly to catch up to them.

“Something like the ruler of this city?” Splinterwick said, phrasing it more as a question than a statement. “Pay him no heed”

“A King?!?” she gasped, breaking free of Splinterwick’s grip and dashing towards the now-collapsed, wheezing man.

“For the love of…” Splinterwick started, turning and chasing after her, one hand on the top of his cap. “Get back here, brat!”

“Excuse me sir” Primrose said, curtsying in front of the man. “Are you really the King?”

The man shakily rose to his feet, doubled over and gasping for breath. “That’s…right!” He slurred, sweat dripping down his face. “And…who might…you be?”

“She’s Primrose” Splinterwick said, suddenly appearing behind her. “She’s a niece of mine.”

“Ah, Splinterwick, there you are!” the man said jovially, reaching out and clapping him in a sweaty hug. “I thought for a minute you didn’t want to see me!”

“I didn’t even notice you” he returned, prying himself free, and avoiding eye contact. “You’ve changed considerably since I last saw you, Ridley.”

“Time does that to a person” the king laughed, holding his extensive paunch. “On the other hand, you look just the same as ever, old friend! What has it been, twenty years?”

“Twenty-three” Splinterwick returned. “When I first met you, you were a young poet and visionary, determined to change the world.”

“Thanks to you, I have!” the king replied. “Over two decades, and not one crime nor punishment has occurred in our streets, and all our borders are quiet. Trade flourishes, and with it, our city! Look around you:” At this, he gestured grandiosely at the city around him. “Every building, every fountain, every manhole is a work of art! Artists come from miles around to work in our city. If only every nation modeled itself after this one, think of how beautiful a place the world would be!”

“You seem to have done quite well for yourself through it all” Splinterwick said dryly, looking at the overweight man’s rich robes and gaudy jewelry. “King, was it?”

“In name only, my friend” the King said, stroking the back of his neck with his hand as if embarrassed. “Of what use is a king in a city as peaceful as this?”

During the entire exchange between the two men, Primrose had been standing silently between them, doing her best to take in the conversation. Finally, she spoke up: “Mr. King” she asked, pulling at his robes. “Where are all the children?”

“Eh? The children?” the King asked, scratching his head.

“When I was running through town earlier, I didn’t see a single kid my age anywhere, only adults.”

“Well, considering the time…” the King replied, squinting at the far-off clock tower “They should all be in school right now.”

“What’s school?” Primrose asked, turning to Splinterwick.

“You’re asking me?” he complained, irritated. “I guess…a place where people get together and learn about the world?” he ventured

“Absolutely!” the King replied, grandiosely spreading his arms wide. “When I was a boy, only a rich child could get an education! When I became king, I made school free and mandatory. No child should have to live without a knowledge of the world they will soon grow to share in.”

“That’s amazing!” Primrose said, beaming. “I wanna go to school too!”

“Oh, it’s great fun!” the King said, smiling and patting her on the head. “We hope to raise the next generation to be even better than the current one!”

“One more question, sir.” She said, looking up at the king. “Where are all the women? When I went through the streets earlier, I didn’t see a single one anywhere either.”

“You have sharp eyes.” The king said, smiling. “All the women are currently working in the factories right now. We issues jobs to the people based on capabilities, and statistically, men are better at hard labour jobs, whereas the delicacy of women is more useful around complicated machinery, like at the factories.”

“Really?” Primrose said. “So people don’t get to choose where they work?”

“Here at Concordia, we believe the job you are best suited for is the job you should be working at. Anything else would be a waste.”

“Speaking of factories,” Splinterwick interjected, grabbing Primrose and half-dragging her behind his back “We should get going. We still need to pick up supplies for our trip. That’s why we stopped by in the first place.”

“Oh, absolutely!” the king said, clasping his hands together. “Take your time! But before that, have you found a place to stay yet?”

“Hmm?” Splinterwick murmured, pausing. “I was just planning on staying at any cheap hotel. We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect, no plans then!” The king said, rubbing his hands together. “Why not spend the night at my castle? I guarantee you you’ll find the food and lodgings far superior to anything in even the best hotels.”

“I do appreciate the offer but…” Splinterwick began

“Food?” Primrose broke in, cutting him off. “All sorts of different kinds?”

“More kinds of food than you’ve ever tasted in your life, little girl!” the King said, bending down and patting her on the head. “I’ve hired chefs from every corner of the known world, you know!”

“Do you have cake?” she inquired, eyes sparkling “Chocolate?”

“I’ll see to it there my chefs prepare one with three layers” The king said, beaming

“Three layers?!?” Primrose said, putting her hands to her cheeks as she tried to imagine such a dessert.

“It looks like it’s settled then!” The king said, with a satisfied smile on his face. “I’ll see you at 5:00, ‘Nick’.”

So saying, the king waddled off in the opposite direction, meeting up with his escort of guards along the way.

“Let’s go, Prim.” Splinterwick said, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her along with him.

Weaving through the crowd, the pair made their way towards the shopping district.

“Three layers!” Primrose sang happily, skipping along beside him

“Forget the cake!” Splinterwick said, angrily. “We’re leaving as soon as I get our supplies. I knew I shouldn’t have stopped by. Of all the luck, bumping into him…”

“But…chocolate cake!” Primrose pleaded beside him, tears forming in her eyes.

“Oh, for…I’ll buy you a cake in the next town, so pick up the pace! If we hurry, we can leave before he even notices I’m gone.”

So saying, he walked into a nearby building, which seemed to be a warehouse of some sort. It was lined from wall to wall and stacked floor to ceiling with all kinds of tools, utilities, furniture, and everything in between, with a stairway leading down to a root cellar, packed full of fruits and vegetables, more kinds than Primrose could even name. At the back of the whole building was an old man, lying with his feet up behind a desk, sound asleep, straw hat pulled low over his face.

Walking through the store, Splinterwick set about grabbing anything of use. A fishing pole, a knife, several spools of puppetry string, and plenty of sewing materials. Heading down into the basement, he addressed Primrose.

“Gather up anything you want to eat, we might as well stock up here.”

“Do you have enough money to buy all this?” Primrose said, looking at his bulging knapsack.

“This is the City of Peace.” He returned, as if that was explanation enough. “They have warehouses like these all throughout the city. People come in and take what they need, no payment required.”

“Amazing!” she exclaimed, dropping the bags she was carrying and dashing back upstairs.

“Hey, come back here, kid!” Splinterwick said, grabbing the bags she dropped and chasing after her.

When he found her, she was in the clothing section, her arms full of various dresses and other clothes.

“Nick!” she beamed. “Look at all the nice clothes they have here! Can I take them all?”

Splinterwick laid a hand on his face. “Only take what you need, Prim.” He said in an exasperated voice.

“What about you?” She returned, pouting. “I saw you take that fishing rod, and those two pairs of boots! You don’t need all those, do you? Also, what where those bottles you tried to hide in your backpack earlier?”

“I swear you get harder to deal with every day.” Splinterwick grunted. “Two changes of clothes only!”

“These too!” she replied, reaching into her pile, and pulling out a small purse shaped like a rabbit, and a stuffed bear.

“If you must.” Splinterwick said, sighing. “Come on now, I’ve picked out everything we’ll need.”

Walking up to the man asleep at the desk, Splinterwick addressed him. “Hey old man, we’re taking these, alright?”

Receiving no response, Splinterwick turned and headed for the door. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder! Turning around, he saw the old man standing directly behind him, eyes cold.

“Don’t forget, Splinterwick.” The old man said. “This evening at the castle, 5:00. Don’t be late.”

So saying, the man stumbled back to his desk, and fell asleep again, leaving one of the two completely bewildered.

*******

4:45 found Splinterwick and Primrose at the castle gates, and the King waiting for them.

“I knew you’d make it, Splinterwick!” The King said, beaming. “Come in, come in! Supper will be ready presently.”

“Try not to ask so many question, Prim.” Splinterwick whispered to her as the two walked through the Castle’s over-sized silver doors. “Ignorance is bliss, you know.”

However, Primrose was not listening. The interior of the castle held her attention captive, with each hallway the King lead them through seeming bigger than the last, and each room they passed appearing more grandiose.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” Splinterwick remarked dryly.

“It’s really too much for my wife and I” the King replied, laughing nervously, as if embarrassed again “but once an architect sets out to build a masterpiece, he really doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied, so it’s more pretty than practical, you could say.”

Finally, the King came to a halt before a giant awning, wafting out of which, mouth-watering scents teased the noses of the hungry pair.

“No need to stand on ceremony.” The King said, gesturing for them to enter. “Food is fresh but once!”

Entering the hall, Primrose gasped in delight. Much less like a castle banquet hall than a high-class dining room, only ten times larger, the room was lined on all sides by exquisite paintings, with intricate glass chandeliers suspended on near-invisible chains from the lofty ceiling. The floor was covered with a rich red carpet, so soft it seemed to suck ones feet into its warm embrace, with no intent of release.

However, as rich as the surrounding room was, what held the attention of the pair were the ebony tables that dominated the center of the room, laden to full capacity and then some, with all forms of delicacies. Needing no second bidding, Primrose dashed towards the humungous chocolate layer cake in the center of the hall, while Splinterwick and the King, maintaining more order, calmly loaded up their plates before sitting on opposite ends of a large table that could easily have seated a score and a half of them.

“So tell me, Splinterwick,” the King asked, ripping a drumstick off a whole chicken and using it to point at Primrose. “Who is she?”

“I believe I already mentioned,” Splinterwick returned, between mouthfuls of a steaming onion-beef-and-gravy flan “She’s a distant niece of mine. Her parents died in an unfortunate accident, and I ended up taking care of her.”

“Come now, Splinterwick!” The King returned, pouring a generous helping of sauce on his chicken. “You don’t really believe that I’m so foolish a king as to not know a little about you?”

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At this, Splinterwick stiffened for a second, before regaining his composure. “Do tell” was all he managed to say.

“The Wandering Wishmaker, the Magician of Dreams, the Storyteller Sorcerer” the King said, ticking off his fingers. “Oh, and the Immortal Pan. Need I go on, Dear Splinterwick?”

Splinterwick hid his face by taking a deep draught from his glass. “What are you getting at, Ridley?”

“Not much, only that it seems my wish wasn’t the only one you’ve heard. But all that aside, I am genuinely curious as to who the girl is.”

Splinterwick glanced in the direction of Primrose, who was a few tables away stocking up on candied fruits. “I found her in the woods one day dressed in the barest of rags, a good two years back. From the footprints in the area around, it seemed that a man and a women had accompanied her, but had left her there. Really, you humans do the most incomprehensible things. Either way, I couldn’t just leave her there, so after it became apparent that her parents weren’t coming back, I ended up taking her with me.”

“Oh? Interesting.” The king replied wistfully. “You’re an unexpectedly good person, Splinterwick.”

“I’m only taking care of her until I can find someone to take her in for me.” Splinterwick returned, biting deeply into slice of golden bread.

“Of course, this brings me to my next question.” The King said, stabbing an apple from a bowl of fruit with his fork. “Splinterwick, I wish to ask a favour of you again.”

“One wish is more than most get in a lifetime.” Splinterwick said, a harsher tone creeping into his voice.

“Well then, think of it as an extension on my previous wish.” The King continued, undaunted. “Splinterwick, I’m growing old. How short our lives must seem to someone like you! Like a match, burning bright one second, and then extinguished the next.”

“Living long isn’t all it’s made out to be either.” Splinterwick returned “If you live long enough, you’ll only get to see the same mistakes being made by the same kind of people all over again.”

“The grass always seems greener on the other side, I suppose.” The King replied, biting deeply into the apple. “Still, I hold fast in my wish. I can only expect at most thirty more years upon this earth, after which this kingdom I worked so hard to build up will crumble. Splinterwick, dear friend, I wish for you to make me immortal.”

Splinterwick paused in mid bite, stopping and setting down his food resolutely. Clearing his throat, he spoke softly, yet with a voice like flint. “I refuse. Humankind was made mortal, and I’ll not change that. You have a wife, have yourself a child, and set him as an heir upon your throne, if you wish your kingdom to continue.”

“Come now, Splinterwick.” The King replied, raising his hands. “Who could I truly trust to carry out my will but myself alone? Beside,” he added, his voice softening, as a darker tone crept into his voice. “This would hardly be the worst tampering in God’s domain you’ll have done, now will it, Splinterwick?”

Splinterwick wordlessly poked at a slice of glazed ham with his fork. Finally he spoke. “Immortality is where I draw the line. That path only leads to irreparable destruction.” He finished, offering no other explanation.

“Now, now, Splinterwick!” The King said, his cheerful demeanor returning. “I’m not asking for an immediate answer! Sleep on it, and talk to me tomorrow morning. You’ve had a hard day’s traveling, and you need some time to mull it over, I’m sure. Oh, darling, fetch me the bottle of our best wine, the one from sixteen-years back.”

The King’s last words were addressed to a silent woman that had suddenly appeared by the King’s side, without any announcing of her presence. Wordlessly, she nodded and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of a dark red fluid.

“You’ll not taste better wine elsewhere!” The King bragged, pouring himself a glass, and holding it up to the light. “This wine was made the day of our marriage, and has been keeping ever since. Normally, I’d only drink a glass on our anniversary, but this is a special occasion!”

The woman walked over to Splinterwick, her long green dress and noiseless walking lending her an appearance of gliding across the floor. She filled his glass silently, and departed in a like manner, shutting the doors behind her.

“Let us drink to out continues friendship.” The King said, raising the glass to his lips, as Splinterwick did likewise.

“Does it taste good?” Primrose whispered to him, popping up behind him.

“No, not really.” Splinterwick said. “You human’s concept of drinking rotten fruit juice has always perplexed me.”

“Then why do you drink it?” Primorse asked, scrunching up her face.

“People attach great importance to it, and hold it as something of pride.” Splinterwick returned. “To not drink it would be considered an insult.”

“That’s complicated.” Primrose replied.

“You humans often are.” He returned.

“Oh, Sir, that reminds me!” Primrose said, crawling under the spotless white tablecloth, and reappearing beside the King. “I never would have guessed you were married!”

“Neither would I have, seventeen years ago.” The King said, smiling. “It was quite a fateful meeting, so to speak.” A nostalgic gleam lit his eye. “When we first met, she was a lone traveler, trying to get out of the spring rain. I let her into the castle, and fed her supper, intending on sending her on her way once the rain stopped, but you know how spring showers can be. The rain wouldn’t let up, so I decided to let her stay the night.” The King laughed softly to himself. “We ended up talking the whole night long. She was a lover of books, and had more stories in her than there are stars in the sky. When the rain didn’t stop in the morning, she ended up staying an extra day, and then an extra day turned into a week, and from there, a month, and before either of us knew it, we were married.” He sighed, swishing the wine in his glass softly.

“What a romantic story!” Primrose said, giggling.

“It is, isn’t it?” The King said, laughing. “Almost like something from one of her tales. We were so young then, how time flies.”

“On the subject of time, it’s gotten quite late, hasn’t it?” Splinterwick commented uncomfortably, neatly arranging the cutlery on his plate.

“So it has!” The King said, pushing back his chair. “Well Splinterwick, don’t let me keep you from your slumbers! Your room is exactly as it was twenty years ago. I trust you don’t need me to show you the way?”

“I will be quite alright.” Splinterwick said, finishing his meticulous arrangement of his utensils and rising to his feet. “Thanks for the meal, Ridley.”

“Oh, any time, any time!” The King said, rubbing his hands together. “Sleep well now, and don’t forget about the matter we discussed!”

Grabbing Primrose by the hand, Splinterwick left the hall without a word, mounting a nearby staircase, which lead to a small, tidy room containing a four-posted canopy bed, along with an assortment of other furniture. Helping the now sleepy Primrose into her pajamas, he placed her in the bed, resigning himself to the antique chair in the corner. As he sat down, something caught his eye, and he looked up to see the King’s wife standing at the end of the hall opposite the door, just staring quietly. Splinterwick moved to get up, but before he could do so, she vanished from his sight. Crossing the room, he poked his head out the doorway, but upon seeing nothing but shadows, he returned and shut the door tight.

*******

Later that night, the silver waxing moon illuminated the pair through the satin curtains, Primrose lying in the canopy bed like a princess, and Splinterwick sitting quite still in his chair, like some stone sentinel placed to watch over her. Softly, Primrose sat up and whispered

“Papa?”

Splinterwick stirred from his odd motionless posture. “What is it, Prim? You want a bedtime story?”

“No, all your stories are sad.” Primrose pouted.

“Well, sorry for telling sad stories, then.” Splinterwick grumbled, pulling his hat low upon his brow.

“Papa, why do people fight each other?”

“Philosophy instead of a bedtime story?” Splinterwick said, shifting in his chair. “What kind of little girl did you grow up to be?” He sighed. “Why people fight? I guess it’s because their human.”

“I don’t understand.” Primrose replied, confused.

“Well, simply put, what differentiates humans from animals? It’s not their build, or any instinctive differences, or something as simple as that. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Our soul?” Primrose questioned

“Not quite, even animals are said to possess “souls” of their own.” Splinterwick returned. “The answer is their Will. Free Will is the ability to make choices and act on them, something no instinct-driven animal has. This is humanity’s defining feature, and both its greatest strength and greatest weakness.”

“I don’t get it at all.” Primrose pouted. “Why does being able to make decisions mean that people can’t live in peace?”

“Let me explain.” Returned Splinterwick. “Say that you had a large chocolate cake in front of you, more than you could eat, and next to you was a hungry boy. If he asked you for a slice, what would you do?”

“I would share some with him, of course!” Primrose said, smiling.

“Of course.” Splinterwick smirked. “So that’s an example of how your Free Will can impact the lives of others for the better. Now say that YOU were the hungry one, and the boy had the cake. However, when you asked him for a slice, he didn’t give you anything. What would you do?”

“I would punch him and take the cake for being so rude.” Primrose said, making a mock punch at the air.

“How very Human of you.” Splinterwick murmured. “Anyway, that’s how wars and conflicts start.”

“Over chocolate cake?” Primrose said, alarmed. “I had no idea!”

“No, no, no.” Splinterwick said, holding a hand to his head. “That was just a metaphor, an example. Typically how wars start is one country has something, and another does not, be it riches, land, or natural resources. The one country sees no reason to share what is rightfully theirs, and the other country, jealous of their wealth, decided to take it for themselves. Humans are interesting that way. When you see someone with more than you, you feel convinced that they are undeserving of it. If a homeless person saw a man with two houses, he would feel just taking the man’s second house, and call it fair, leaving them both with one house. He would completely overlook the work the man had to do to be able to afford a second house.”

“But if everyone shared, then that wouldn’t be a problem!” Primrose said, indignantly.

“Well, that may be true.” Splinterwick said. “There are communities I have heard about where everyone lives in peace by distributing what they have to who needs it. However, these only work when all people have the same dream, usually in the form of a like religion. All it takes is one person to believe that they are more deserving than those around them for the entire system to crumble. That’s why peace such as that will never exist realistically.”

“So peace is unachievable?”

“When you grow up, you’ll understand what I mean. When you get married, aim for peace in your own house first, and you’ll find that a big enough goal as it is. Peace is not something that can be forced on others, it has to be willed by every person, and sadly, human desire always ensures that at least one person will be willing to break the system for their own gain.”

There was a long period of silence, then Primrose spoke again.

“Papa, why won’t you make the King immortal?”

Splinterwick started, glancing at Primrose in surprise. “You were listening?”

“I heard a little.” She said timidly. “You weren’t being very quiet about it.”

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit.” Splinterwick said, sighing.

“I’m sorry.” Primrose returned, hiding under her covers.

“Well, it’s really pretty simple, I guess.” Splinterwick said, sighing again. “In nature, everything is part of a larger system. Plants are eaten by herbivorous animals, which are eaten by carnivorous animals, which have their numbers thinned by natural causes, and the threat of starvation. Thus, everything is kept in balance. However, do you know what happens when something upsets that balance?”

Primrose shook her head.

“There was a nobleman once who loved to fish, and having found an ideal type of fish in a far-off country, he spent a fortune getting several live specimens transported to his land. There, he released them into his giant lake, intent on fishing for them in his spare time, along with the other fish therein. However, the new fish had no natural predators in the area, and so they continued to eat and breed unchecked. Soon they had filled the pond, and were eating so much of the food that all the other species in the pond died of starvation, leaving only the newly-introduced fishes.”

“That’s sad.” Primrose said.

“That’s Nature.” Splinterwick returned. “Humans are like that, in their own way. There will always be the dreamless mooks content to work at the bottom, those with dreams, yet who lack the conviction to work hard at them alongside them, and at the top are those that will pursue their dreams at all costs, working harder than the rest to do so. Some burn up and die penniless, but some actually achieve their goals through good fortune and ceaseless effort. When someone who lacks the determination to work for their dreams suddenly receives their life’s goal on a silver platter, it upsets the balance of the whole order. One could call it unfair, but it would be more realistic to call it placing someone in a position above their means. You understand so far?” He asked Primrose, who nodded sleepily in response.

“However, if there’s one thing nature is good at, it’s repairing itself.” Splinterwick continued. “No matter how far a man or a country rises, eventually it will return to dust, and all will be forgotten. However, if one introduces immortality into the mix, the result is the same as permanently scarring the earth, wounding the natural order in such a way that it cannot recover. Thus, I will never bestow immortality on a mortal, under any circumstances. You understand?”

Splinterwick’s long diatribe was greeted only with soft snores from Primrose, who was fast asleep in her bed, her stuffed bear under one arm.

Muttering a few choice words to the silence, he lowered the cap on his head and sat up straight in his chair, resumed his unusual resting posture.

*******

The next day rose even more brightly than the last, a soft blanket of light filtering through the draperies of the room to gently rouse the little girl from her slumbers. Across from her, Splinterwick was still sitting up straight in his chair with his cap pulled low, although whether he was asleep or not was impossible to discern. Yawning lazily, the girl changed into her dress, and walked out of the room, stuffed bear still in hand, chasing a delicious smell wafting through the air.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and looking across the hall, she spied the dining hall’s doors open, with a whole new array of food laid out for the morning, and the King gorging himself in the middle of it. Walking in, she piled herself a plate of breakfast pastries and fruits, seating herself at an empty table. Completely ignorant of her presence, the King wolfed his way through a princely portion of bacon on the opposite end of the room.

Looking up from her food, Primrose noticed that the King’s wife was once again hovering in the darkness outside the hall, simply observing silently, like a specter. Suddenly, she stepped back and vanished from Primrose’s sight, promptly replaced by Splinterwick, who was carrying both of their packs. He began to attempt to gesture for Primrose to follow him, waving at her from the shadows. However, Primrose, unsure of his intents believed him to be playing a game, and waved back, before continuing with her food. Sighing to himself, Splinterwick entered the hall and was immediately noticed by the King.

“Ho there, Splinterwick!” The King called out, spewing bacon shards everywhere. “I trust you slept well?”

“Fine, thank you.” Splinterwick waved him away, briskly walking over to Primrose and grabbing her by the arm. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your hospitality, though. We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“Oh, but before that” the King said, turning around swiftly. “Do you have an answer for me?”

Splinterwick sighed, then turned around and stood up straight. “My answer still stands. I will never, under any circumstances, grant immortality to a mortal. I thank you for your services, now I will take my leave.”

“Come now, Splinterick old friend!” The King said, rising from his seat and making a small gesture to a serving boy. “It’s only a small matter for you. A gift between friends. Won’t you hear an aging companion’s only wish?”

Splinterwick made no reply, but instead briskly moved for the door, Primrose in tow. However, before he even reached the doorway, a legion of armed guards descended upon the pair, blocking their way.

“I don’t want to sound unhospitable,” The King said, walking towards Splinterwick. “But I’m afraid I can’t accept “no” as an answer. For the good of Concordia, I WILL be made immortal.”

The King waved his hands, and the guards formed a wide circle around Splinterwick, closing ranks.

Primrose heard Splinterwick issue a low sigh as he planted his feet and straightened his back. Usually, Splinterwick had a half-slouched, half-hunched posture that made him appear shorter than he actually was, but at full height, he was easily an imposing 7’2”. Slinging his bag off his shoulder, he opened it slowly, reaching in and pulling out a pottery vessel, the lid of which was tied securely to the rest of the jar.

“I knew you’d come around, Splinterwick!” The King cried, excited. “Now, give me the jar, and we’ll let you go on your way.”

Splinterwick hefted the jar in his hand a few times, as if considering, then turned to the king with his arm outstretched. As the king moved to receive it, suddenly Splinterwick threw it to the ground, producing a blinding light which filled the room. Primrose reflexively threw her hands over her eyes, trying to block out the piercing explosion of brightness. In the background, she could hear the King shrieking in rage, steel ringing against steel, accompanied by what sounded like people being flung across the room.

As soon as it had begun, the brilliant light suddenly dissipated. As the mist of sunspots in her eyes faded, a chaotic scene was revealed to Primrose. Guards were strewn left and right, with the few on remaining on their feet forming a living wall protecting the King. Across the room stood Splinterwick, his pack in one hand, and an unconscious guard in the other. For a moment, there was silence, then the ranks of guards opened, and the King walked out, glowering at Splinterwick. Down the hall, Primrose could hear more guards advancing on the room, even as the collapsed guards began to rise to their feet.

“Give it up, Splinterwick!” The King yelled. “You can’t stand against an entire city!”

Without a word, Splinterwick spun on his heel, dashed out of the room, and leapt at the window in the adjoining hall. Curling into a ball, he easily broke through the glass, disappearing from Primrose’s view.

“After him!” The King bellowed in desperation, waddling after the wave of guards that poured down the stairs.

Primrose stood still for a moment, then slowly walked towards the window through which Splinterwick had plunged moments before. However, as she tried to look out the window, her head hit something thin. Looking closely, she saw dozens of barely visible hair-like strands stretching from the open window back into the room. Turning around and look up, she saw a familiar figured perched on a chandelier, a pair of marionette control frames in hand.

“Sorry to worry you.” Splinterwick said, leaping down and landing softly on his grasshopper-like legs next to Primrose. “We should leave, they’ll discover the puppet soon enough.” So saying, he swept the girl up, placing her on his shoulder and dashing down the hallway.

Running at an incredible speed, Splinterwick rounded corners and dashed down staircases, descending level after level of the oddly empty castle.

“Have you been here before?” Primrose asked, noticing that he never seemed to retrace his steps, despite the castle being a maze of halls and stairways.

“I spent last night planning an escape route.” Splinterwick said, not slowing down in the slightest. “There aren’t too many people in the castle with the guards gone, but I didn’t want to risk being spotted leaving the castle.”

So saying, he stopped at a window in the hall, opening it silently, and tossing a coil of rope from his pack down, affixing the grappling iron on the other end to the windowsill. Reaching down and grabbing Primrose, he hefted her onto his back, strapping his rucksack to his front.

“Whatever you do, don’t let go, brat.” He said, heading towards the window.

As Splinterwick poked his head out, a gust of wind blew up from outside, hitting the pair. “I’m scared, Papa!” Primrose cried, turning away. As she did so, she noticed an all too familiar shadow gliding towards the pair, a gilded dagger in hand.

“Papa, behind you!” She cried, as the king’s wife broke into a dash, blade leveled at Splinterwick’s back. Spinning around, Splinterwick slammed his foot into the side of her hands, sending her knife flying with a sharp crack of bone breaking.

Two of her fingers hanging at an odd angle, the woman glared at the Pan hollowly, before dashing after the knife.

Cursing, Splinterwick sprang after her, driving his other foot into her back, sending her careening into the opposite wall with a thud, after which she became quite still.

There was a moment of grim silence, then in the distance, Primrose could hear the clanging of armour, a sound which gradually got louder and closer.

“There’s no time Prim, we have to bail.” Splinterwick announced, turning and diving out the window.

Eyes wide with fright, the girl could only stare wide-eyed as the two of them tumbled through the air, half falling, half sliding as Splinterwick held loosely onto the rope with one gloved hand and gripped Primrose with the other. Looking back up, Primrose glimpsed a now unmistakable thin figure at the window above them, silently watching their decent with dead eyes.

*******

After what felt like an unbearably long time, the two of them reached the base of the castle. Gripping the rope tightly in his hand, Splinterwick slowed their fall, dropping down the remaining couple yards and landing lightly on his feet. Her companion breaking into a dash, Primrose noticed that the glove on the hand he had held the rope with was worn through, and a deep red gash with protruding chunks of white was visible through the holes.

“Papa, you’re hand…” she started, scrunching up her eyes to block out the sight.

“It’s nothing.” He replied, holding it out to her.

Gingerly opening her eyes again, she was surprised to see that the wound was sealing itself before her very eyes, and within seconds, the brutal gash was reduced to a shallow cut, and then to nothing.

“I ate plenty yesterday, so this much is no problem.” He affirmed, as if that were explanation enough. “More importantly, are we still being followed?” He asked, not slowing his loping gait.

Turning back, Primrose could barely glimpse the armed guards in the distance, as the milled around the base of the castle, checking for any sign of their quarry.

“I think you’ve lost them!” She replied gleefully. “You’re so fast, Papa!”

“Feh, don’t expect me to carry you like this any other time.” He replied dryly. “I’m going to try and hide in the crowd, so I’ll have to let you off.”

Crouching down, Splinterwick gently helped her off his back, and returned his rucksack to its rightful location. Making his way through a nearby alleyway, the two of them broke out into the busy street, and attempted to blend in with the rest of the throng.

Resuming his usual slouching posture so as not to tower above the passersby, Splinterwick led Primrose through the crowd at the fastest pace they could take without calling attention to themselves.

Suddenly, Primrose felt something tickle the back of her subconscious. Pulling at Splinterwick’s sleeve, he came to a stop.

“What’s the matter, Prim?” He asked, his eyes darting around.

Then he saw it too.

Every single citizen had stopped walking and was standing very still, as if awaiting something.

Then, as one, they all turned their blank gazes on the pair.

“He couldn’t have…” Splinterwick hissed, taking in a sharp breath. “Prim, hold on!” he yelled, sweeping her off her feet onto his back and dashing towards the nearest alley, bowling over multiple citizens in the progress. Holding on tight to his neck, Primrose stared wide eyed as the entire street of people broke into a mad run after them, trampling over their fallen neighbours like a human wave. Looking forward, she let out a little shriek as a second wave of people poured in from the street at the end of the alleyway, cutting them off.

“Hold on brat, we’re going up!” Splinterwick yelled, letting go of her with his off hand and breaking into a leap. Kicking off one of the alley walls, he managed to grab the overhanging lip of an adjacent roof and haul himself up before the ocean of citizens could reach the pair. Pausing for only a moment to find his bearings, he took off again, vaulting from rooftop to rooftop as the crowds below them surged.

As he ran, Primrose noticed Splinterwick reach into his rucksack and pull a pair of unidentifiable objects out. As they approached the tower outer wall of the city, Splinterwick suddenly broke into a dive off the roof, chucking one of the two objects in the direction of the top of the wall, and the second in front of them, creating and explosion of smoke.

There was a sudden impact and a crash, and the pair of them rolled to a halt inside a rather drab, utilitarian room. Getting up and shaking the dizziness from her head, Primrose noticed Splinterwick had already dashed to the window through which they had entered, and was indiscreetly sneaking a glace out of it.

Seeing Primrose approaching him, he held a finger to his lips, and lifted her up to the remains of the window. In the distance, she could see a figure with a billow cloak that looked remarkably like Splinterwick scaling a rope which was draped over the top of the wall’s ramparts.

“What…” Primrose began.

“Just another dummy.” Splinterwick assured her, pulling her back inside. “It should continue to “climb” the rope until it reaches the top of the wall, then it will either plunge off the other side, or stay stuck where it is, drawing attention away from us in either case.”

“So what do we do now?” Primrose questioned in a forced whisper

“I stole and copied the keys to the main gate’s toll booth, we should be able to make our way there while the town is occupied, and leave without them being any the wiser.” Splinterwick assured her, grabbing her hand, and leading her to the nearby staircase.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Splinterwick.” A soft voice split the silence, sending chills down Primrose’s spine. Turning, the two tried to place the source of the voice.

A little to their left, in an inconspicuous crib in the corner of the room sat a small child, silently watching the pair with the same dead eyes that belonged to the rest of the town. Suddenly, it broke into a malicious grin, as the sound of a door being flung open echoed through the house, followed by a mad rush of footsteps.

Spliterwick cursed, then grabbing Primrose, he ran across the room, leaping at the nearest window and sending the pair of them flying out into the streets below

…which were filled with a waiting mob.

*******

Opening her eyes, Primrose saw only darkness. Feeling out tentatively, her hand touched rough cloth on all sides of her. Raising herself up a little, her head rustled the flap of the large travel bag Splinterwick had slipped her into, allowing a thin stream of light to flood into the satchel. Peering outside, the little girl saw the severity of their situation.

Splinterwick was sitting on the ground, bent over by the swarm of citizens that amassed around him, his limbs held down to prevent his movement. A dry chuckle rippled through the crowd, followed by an odd disjointed voice that seemed to first come from one side of the crowd, then another, only to suddenly ring out from only a few feet away.

“I’m disappointed, Splinterwick.”

“Should’ve taken my offer.”

“What good did trying to resist me do?”

“It was you who decided to involve yourself in my life.”

“Finish what you start.”

With a decisive ripple, the crowd parted to reveal Ridley slowly and deliberately striding towards the pair, flanked by legions of guards. The fact that the king’s plain iron crown was now glowing faintly was not lost on her.

At once, the disjointed voice centered in on the king.

“Are you feeling a bit more reasonable now, Splinterwick?” He asked, bending low to look the puppeteer in the eye.

“You madman, what did you do to this town?” Splinterwick spat out the words like a poison.

The king stood up straight, his face clouding over. “This was the natural order of things, Splinterwick. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”

“This wasn’t what you had in mind when you started out.” Splinterwick continued, locking gazes with the man. “You swore you would use the wish I bestowed upon you as a last resort, and for that matter you even rejected the idea of ruling Concordia at first. Instead, you chose a good friend of yours for that role if I’m not mistaken. Whatever came of Simeon?”

“I was a fool to ever trust my dream to another!” The king screeched out, balling his fists. “Oh yes, all was well at first. Simeon was a born leader, well loved by the people. A little tampering with the current leadership was all it took to have him instilled as a replacement king. The people loved him, you know. He had the attitude of a king. But he was too proud!”

The king gritted his teeth and continued. “He would be the face of our new kingdom and the authority, and I would guide everything in the background. I never wanted power, you know. I was happy at the idea of someone else taking the burden. But he never got over the fact that I was more powerful than him, that I was smarter than him.”

“It was a small thing brought up in conversation. “I’d better watch myself around you Ridley, or you’ll control me too!” We both laughed at the idea, but looking back on it, those were his true feelings all along. Bit by bit, he started getting carried away with his role as king, and breaking away from the plan I set out for him.”

The king took in a breath. “I confronted him in his chamber, just the two of us in private and asked him to reconsider. I trusted him, you know!” The king waved his hands empathetically to Splinterwick. “He was like a brother to me, and I would have done anything for him. But do you know what he said to me in return?”

The king’s eyes hardened. “’So you want to control me too, is that it?’ He asked me.” The king held a hand to his face as he gave a pained chuckle. “I never wanted to control him! It was never a matter of puppeting anybody. But I had the plan. I was the visionary. I knew what needed to be done and how to do it. Why couldn’t he just understand that my way was the right way and have faith in me?!?”

“So you destroyed his mind?” Splinterwick grated.

“He tried to kill me!” The king screamed. “He didn’t even have the guts to do it himself! He had one of his soldiers try and execute me in my own bed!” The king agitatedly paced in a circle before stopping in front of Splinterwick again and facing him. “And do you know what he said to me when I confronted him?” The king whispered hoarsely. “’You scare me, Ridley.’ He told me. ‘I never know when you might decide to bend me to your will. I had to do it to protect myself and this country’” The king’s hand began to shake.

“I scared him?!?” He quavered. “Who was it that tried to kill the other? Who was it that didn’t even have one word of apology for such a grand betrayal? What did he care about the country! If he had just followed my perfect, perfect plan, everything would have turned out just fine!”

By now the king’s voice had crescendoed to a fearsome peak. Taking a deep breath, his voice sunk down to a calmer tone again. “It was then that I realized that no matter how much I believed in others and my dream of peace, such a thing could never come true. No one listens. No one understands. No one acknowledges greatness.” Walking unsteadily towards Splinterwick, he crouched down in front of him and whispered shakily into his ear.

“Do you know why bee hives and ant colonies are always models of efficiency and peaceful coexistence?” He asked rhetorically. “It’s because there’s only one mind and a thousand drones. As long as there are even two people left with Free Will, there can never be peace!”

“You damn monster, you turned every citizen in the town into one of your puppets!” Splinterwick cursed at him.

“This is the true face of the peace all of humanity seeks!” The king roared back, standing up and gesturing around him. “This is what humanity was created to be! I need no more evidence of this than how perfectly my society runs. If this were an unnatural situation, it would fall apart on itself, but see!” The king once more bent down before the puppeteer. “Everything runs to utmost perfection. All citizens are healthy, our storehouses are filled to bursting, our city is clean and in perfect repair, and our population only expands! This is our natural state, friend Splinterwick!”

“And so you turned your wife into a puppet too?” Splinterwick hissed.

The king’s face twisted in pain. “I loved her, Splinterwick.” He whispered. “I loved her more than you could ever know. But in the end, she also betrayed me.”

In silence the king sat down on the ground in front of Splinterwick. “Why can no one see the vision I had?” The king whispered. “Why can’t they just trust me that I know what’s best?”

Splinterwick gave no reply.

“I’m so terribly lonely here.” The king wailed. “More than any of this power, all I wanted was people to stand beside me.”

“But that’s not true, is it?”

The king looked up.

“If companionship was what you wanted, you could have easily had it. By relinquishing your power, you could have kept both of your dear friends, couldn’t you?”

“But that’s…” The king started

“You valued power more than friendship, and so now you have it.” Splinterwick continued, his voice rising. “You sacrificed tens of thousands of lives so that your wish could come true, and yet that isn’t enough for you?”

Splinterwick slowly rose up, flexing his arms and dragging the heap of villagers around him with him.

“And to complain of loneliness of all things…go spend a thousand years in solitude before you talk to me of loneliness, human!” Splinterwick bellowed, flicking his arms and sending the mass of citizens flying at the king. With a startled yelp, he tried to shuffle away, but was sent flying, the glowing crown falling to the ground and ceasing its pulsing. Not missing a beat, Splinterwick dashed through the now unmoving crowd, bowling over swathes of people, carving a trench through the populace.

Popping her head fully out of the satchel now, Primrose saw the king make an ungainly scramble for his crown. Placing it firmly on his head, as one the immobile crowd gave a small spasm, then began to pile after the pair rabidly, like a veritable ocean of citizenry.

“This could get rough.” Splinterwick predicted, breaking into his odd vaulting leap of a run. Rounding corner after corner, Primrose could see the crowd start to divide and work to encircle them. Ducking into an alleyway, the pair could hear the rumble of hundreds of footsteps approaching the upcoming intersection.

“Hold on.” Splinterwick warned, ducking low and building up speed. As soon as the first citizen came tearing around the bend, Splinterwick gave a short experimental hop than followed it with a great vaulting leap, clearing the heads of the crowd as they attempted to block their way, landing squarely on the other side of the intersection. Not slowing any, the puppeteer kept up the pace, the gatehouse now visible in the distance.

“We’ve almost made it!” Primrose exclaimed, sighting the small blue gatehouse door that represented their escape route. Emerging from the alleyway into the open gate plaza, the girl’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. The entire grounds were crawling with soldiers!

“We’ll never make it through!” She exclaimed.

“We certainly won’t.” Splinterwick muttered. “At least, we wouldn’t if the gatehouse had been our destination.”

“Didn’t you take the keys to the gatehouse door?” Primrose asked.

“Only because I knew Ridley would be watching me.” He returned. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he shifted Primrose and his pack on his back and broke into a mad dash through the soldiers, trampling any that got too close like some twisted warhorse, even taking several good slashes across his chest. As he approached the gatehouse, the nearby guards threw themselves in a dogpile against the door in an attempt to blockade it.

Paying them no heed, Splinterwick vaulted off their bodies, reaching the small overhanging roof of the gatehouse itself. Kicking back a shambling soldier that attempting to climb up after him, Splinterwick lifted his shirt, uncoiling the length of rope that was beneath it. Looping it around a grappling iron in a quick sailor’s knot, he effortlessly tossed it securely around the ramparts above. Planting his feet against the wall, he half-walked, half-climbed, taking the end of the rope with him as he went. Almost reaching the top, he heard a plaintive voice calling out from below.

“Splinterwick, please! Don’t leave me!”

Down below, the king was kneeling on the ground, sweating copiously with his hands clasped in front of him, beseeching the puppeteer.

Ignoring him, Splinterwick continued his accent.

“I’ll do anything you ask, Splinterwick!” The king pleaded. “You’re the only one I can trust. You always stick to your word. I’ll never ask for immortality again, just…” the king broke down and wept. “Don’t leave me here all by myself!”

Stopping his climb, Splinterwick turned to face the man. “Ridley.” He began.

The man lifted his head.

“Go talk to one of your puppets.” Splinterwick’s voice was hard as flint. “Our friendship was never part of your wish. Live well, Ridley.”

The king began to sob profusely.

“If…if I have to go back to being all alone like that again…” the king wailed “I’d rather just die here and now!”

*Thump!*

Primrose looked down.

One of the nearby citizens had punched the king in the back of the head, knocking his crown flying. Startled, the king turned around to see waves of citizens slowly approaching him. His eyes widening, he shuffled backwards, grasping for his fallen coronet. “No, I never meant…” he started.

He never finished.

A wave of citizens poured onto him, pulling and tugging at him every which way.

Though the bustle below, Primrose heard the agonizing screeches of the king, followed by a loud ripping sound and then…

Silence.

Splinterwick grimly resumed his climb, mounting the top of the battlements with ease. Turning back to look, the scene below was a perfect still frame. All the town’s populace seemed to be gathered in the gate plaza, standing stock still, as if in waiting. All was silence.

Lowering the rope onto the other side of the wall, Splinterwick slid down as far as it would reach, falling the rest of the way and landing like a grasshopper on his gangly legs.

“Papa, what do you suppose will happen to the town now?” Primrose asked softly.

“It’s none of our concern what happens to abandoned children’s toys.” Splinterwick replied gravely. “Nature is quite good at cleaning up after itself.”

Silently, the two slowly processed away from the gate, following the main road.

“Where will we go next, Papa?” The girl asked

“Well, I had to empty to pack to fit you inside, so I guess we need to pick up supplies again.” The puppeteer sighed. “There’s a town not too far from here that I’ve been to before.”

“Papa, should I get out of your pack now?”

“Feh, I’ll carry you a little longer just this once. But as soon as I get tired, you’re walking, you hear me?”

Continuing ever onwards, the pair gave no more thought to Concordia, the fabled City of Peace, as it shrank in the distance behind them.

End.