{-...-}

His father would tell the boy stories as they traveled in their little caravan from one town to another. It helped pass the time, gave his little imagination something more to consider other than the passing forests and fields.

They might have both been doing something else, in fact, before the father will begin in a lofty voice, “Once upon a time…” Those words would make the boy—and the few other children who were also traveling with their parents—abandon whatever they’d been working on before. Then they all waited, eager to hear what the boy’s father might say next.

At first, he’d only told tales about distressed maidens, brave knights, and evil kings or sorcerers or noblemen. But soon he heard comments like;

“Why’s it always got to be the same stories every time?”

“Yeah, it’s getting boring!”

“Tell us something new!”

“Something exciting!”

So the father would laugh and return, “Alright, but you’re going to have to give me a moment. I’m sure I’ll remember something in a couple of moments.”

Then his stories started to feature all kinds of people, places, and elements. Once he’d told of a water and fire spirit—he’d called them goddesses, and the children recognized the story but still found it captivating—guiding their ancestors to the lands. Later, he told them stories about five different items; some were used to teach an important lesson to the noble who had it, others were used as simply something fun to entertain them. But the boy always liked the stories with the clear heroes the most.

He imagined himself in those roles, acting it out with his friends.

“I will save you!” he would declare bravely, rushing up to the “princess.”

“Not if I stop you first!” the “villain” would return, letting out a fake evil laugh that led away into true childish giggles.

They’d chase each other then, once he’d caught up, they’d have their “ultimate battle” concluding in his success and a flower crown from the “princess.” Aside from the stories themselves, it was the boy’s favorite pastime.

None of them could quite prepare him for what stood in front of him now: the world truly in danger, in need of a hero. In need of him.

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” his father mumbled. He shut the blinds and motioned both the boy and his mother further away from the windows. “Whatever you dreamt, child, it wasn’t real. There’s no saving us.”

“Of course there is!” the boy, though now really a teenager, argued. “The goddesses came to me. I know what I’ve got to do, and I’ll be more than willing to do it—for all of you!”

His mother, quietly, said, “I don’t doubt what you think you saw, dear. But I don’t want to see you get hurt, or worse, because of this. I… wouldn’t mind letting you go, really—it seems that that’s one of our only options. I need to know first, though, that you’re going to be able to come back to us.”

“I’ll come back,” the boy said, in an attempt to reassure her. The idea of the grand adventure excited him, but he tried to quell those feelings; he wanted to seem as serious as possible, after all, if they were going to believe him. “I know I will. I will have the goddesses’ protection—they promised that much to me—as well as allies to spend the time with. We’ll all be fine, and I’ll return home with the news that we don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

It didn’t seem to work. Fairytales never had the issue—if the hero’s parents were mentioned at all, they were often more than willing to allow him to save the world. Perhaps that should’ve been his first clue.

Just as the next morning came and he was starting to think about what he’d need to do in order to still fulfill the goddesses’ will… and his parents came to him.

They looked between each other before his father said, “I’m sorry—for doubting what you’d dreamt. The goddesses… they both came to us, too. You’ve got to go.”

His mother nodded. “If we keep you here… we can’t be sure of what’s going to happen. But if you go, then there really is a chance that you can change things. You can make a better future for everyone.”

“So you’re letting me go?” the boy prompted. Once again, he found himself beating down the excitement.

“It would be a little selfish not to, wouldn’t it..?” His mother let out a sad laugh and hugged him. “I want to bring everyone in town together. I’m sure all of them are like we were—they’re not going to understand what you’re going to do. Then I’ll gather some things for you so you’re ready to go. Just promise me you’ll stay safe and you’ll find those allies of yours quickly. I’ll feel much better knowing that you’ve got friends with you…”

“Of course, Mom. And I’ll make sure to make you both proud, too. I’ll come home with good news—I promise.”

Soon enough, the whole town came to send him off. He could tell that they weren’t completely confident that he would be able to do anything, but they were also willing to try anyway—that was the part he thought was most important.

The only thing he had to do after leaving, then, was to gather his new allies, and triumph over the evil they were experiencing.

He was amazed by the people he met along his journey—both those that stayed with him and those he only saw in passing. It made him realize that though, as a merchant’s child, he’d traveled before… there was still a large world out there, one he’d only ever known of in stories.

But… there were a lot of things the stories didn’t include, too. He soon began to realize that there were more things wrong with the world than he’d first imagined; that there were things that a grand hero couldn’t solve.

At least, though, he could hold on to the hope that there was something he could do. Eventually he just started assuring himself that, once they defeat this grand evil, even if it wouldn’t solve everything… it would definitely make things better.

The boy had built up all the resolve he could muster in what he knew would be the last encounter with the villain. All of his friends stood beside him, and each were well-prepared for whatever might happen; he wore the armor of the goddesses, their words of wisdom and encouragement echoing through the back of his head.

Confidently, he stood up against the villain and declared, “This ends here! Together, we’ll put a stop to what you’re doing! You’re not hurting anyone else!”

“Oh, really?” the villain laughed. He walked towards them and only then did the boy realize just how big he was. The boy and his friends were young—they weren’t even adults yet. But the villain was tall, intimidating, and excluded an air of someone much, much older than he looked. “I’d like to see you try.”

The girl—the first person the boy had met on his journey—stepped back. “Something’s wrong. Very wrong. I—I don’t think we can really do this…”

“Of course we can do this!” the boy said. “The goddesses said that we’ll be able to defeat him if we’re all together, and we are. There’s nothing that can stop us!”

Nothing ever stopped over fairytale characters, after all. Reality might’ve been a little different in some regards but, surely, good will still triumph over evil?

“Oh, you poor child…” the villain muttered with a chuckle. Louder, he said, “Don’t you realize you’ve already lost?”

What happened next was far from something in fairytales. The villain’s power—his darkness—consumed everything. Friend, foe, it didn’t matter. All were buried under shadowy tendrils.

And, soon enough, so was the boy.

This is it, he found himself thinking as he sunk into the darkness. Maybe real-life fairytales don’t have happy endings after all. Maybe darkness can win… because I know that there’s no hope for us now. We’ve already lost. There’s nothing left to protect—he took all of it…

But then the boy woke up. He was in a new place, with a new name and new appearance. He had new friends and a new family.

And he found himself chosen for a new quest, once again becoming a hero that the world needed.