Matt moved to the box. The Man of the Lake sat very still with a confident grin frozen on his face. His eyes followed Matt; it was very disconcerting. Inside the box were, indeed, supplies: pens and notepads for all. Matt doled them out and then tried to find a comfortable spot to sit. The rocks were too small and irregular. He leaned on his right butt cheek and considered writing a poem about his uncomfortable ass.
Only one of us has to win, right? He hoped that was the case. He was worried about wasting too much time and hadn’t written a poem since grade school.
Horse, borse, course, dorse, doors? He tried to come up with rhymes.
The Man and the horse were too distracting with their creepy stares, and Matt couldn’t he couldn’t help but think how stupid this was. He was glad the Man didn’t summon aquatic demon-squirrels, but it felt like a waste of time. They couldn’t afford to waste time right now—maybe ever. He stared at the blank page and stretched his eye sockets.
Come on Matt, just write the stupid poem. Why am I writing a damn poem?
Val started humming. She actually looked happy, moving the pen across the page, then pausing and cocking her pink head. Then she gripped the pen in a full fist and scratched across the paper with a vengeance.
Matt turned back to his own work and scribbled a few lines. This was taking too long. They needed to get the object and go. He scribbled for a few more minutes—until he couldn’t stand it.
“Is anyone done yet?” Matt asked.
“Yeah…” Val said unconvincingly.
Fallyn stood, grimacing, and then brushed her palms against her pants.
“Mine isn’t ready,” Kurtis said. “I don’t know if it’s good.”
“Probably better than mine,” Matt said. They had to get going.
“I’ll go first,” Val offered, stepping to the water’s edge. Then she glanced back and flashed a smile.
“Go for it,” Matt said.
“Hello, most manly Man of the Lake!” Val projected. “I am ready with your poem.”
The Man of the Lake’s expression finally changed from that locked-in-place smile. “Wonderful!” he boomed. “Proceed.”
Val held up her notebook. Matt had given her the pink one matching her hair. She read:
There once was a man on a magic white horse,
Who wore very, very white pants, of course.
He was the manliest man you’ll ever meet,
With muscles so strong and a heart so sweet.
Val made a heart with her middle and index fingers. Then the Man of the Lake laughed, “I like this one!”
Val continued:
He was the bestest and bravest, and never afraid,
To stand up for what’s right, and to get paid.
“In poetry!” she loud-whispered, then resumed reading:
Princesses cheered when they saw him ride,
On his beautiful horse, with manly pride.
He’s the manliest man you’ve ever seen,
Much better in white than that old Mr. Clean.
Val curtsied, tugging at the sides of her pants, smiling up at the Man of the Lake.
He clapped and bellowed, “Bravo! I do not know who this Mr. Clean is, but I’m sure you are correct.” Then, he looked past Val to where Matt, Fallyn, and Kurtis stood behind her. “Who’s next?”
Fallyn shook her head vigorously and Kurtis slunk back a step.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Well, shit. He can’t just decide he likes that one?
Matt hated public speaking. Middle school English still haunted him. He’d had Mrs. Lambert two years in a row and, both years, she’d made the entire class participate in a contest.
The first year, his speech was on turtles. The popular kid, Adam, had stuck Ninja Turtles print-outs on his locker and teased him for months. It wasn’t even about that kind of turtle. And what was wrong with Donatello anyways?
The next year, he’d chosen the most neutral topic he could think of: math. That had branded him ‘geek’ and ‘nerd,’ which stuck with him all through high school. Matt supposed there were worse things but at the time... Kids could be so mean.
He stepped forward, returning his mind to the present, opened his notebook, and took a deep breath.
Oh, manly man, on your manly white horse,
And your white pants, of course,
Pretty please, manly man, do hear my plea,
And give the object we asked for to me.
Matt grimaced, then reached a shaking hand up to adjust his glasses. He took two steps back while Val clapped and hollered her support.
“Ah…” the Man of the Lake rubbed his chin. “Short but clever to ask for the object. I like it. I will hear the next!”
Fallyn stepped forward and tucked her hair behind her ears. Then she read:
White horse, misty lake,
A manly hero most true,
Poems sail, he helps.
She closed her notebook and waited. The Man of the Lake scrunched his eyebrows and looked to his horse, then back to Fallyn, then back to his horse, then back to Fallyn, then back to his horse. When she didn’t say anything he gave a polite clap.
“And you, Deinya?” the Man asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurtis.
“Alright, alright,” Kurtis said. He strode closer to the water, blue notebook in one hand, orange tail in the other. He began to read:
Oh Man of the Lake, what a manly sight,
Your presence inspires bravery, and your pants are so very white.
Inspired by you, now this courage is within all of us,
To do what we really mus……………t.
But we need the item to complete our quest,
If you could help us, please? It would be the best!
Kurtis dropped his notebook and ended with a double thumbs up.
The Man of the Lake chuckled. “I will indeed.” Then he bent forward to address his horse. “And which did you like best?” He patted the animal’s neck. “I see...” Then the Man turned to the group and loudly instructed, “Come forward poetic travelers, you have all done well. You have regaled me with the manliest of poems, indeed.”
Matt, Val, Fallyn, and Kurtis lined up along the shore and awaited judgment.
The Man of the Lake stroked his chin. “I suppose we must choose but one. Horse says he prefers the first poem. It had the most compliments for him in it.” The Man rolled his eyes. “It’s going to go to his head. But, Horse always gets what he wants.” Then he added, “Besides, you are a princess.” He bowed his head and made that rolling hand gesture at Valkyrie again.
“I won?” Princess Valkyrie asked, and then exclaimed, “I won!” shooting both hands into the air and jumping.
“Congratulations fair maiden. You shall have your prize.” He spread his arms and a splash of water burst out between them, dripping away to reveal a rusty metal object, about a foot tall. The item was shaped like the outline of a raindrop: flat curved metal pieces joined by a hinge at its peak.
“Collect your winnings,” he instructed, as the object hovered between his hands.
Val stretched out one foot and pointedly tapped at the water’s surface. “Um,” she began. “I don’t think…”
“Oh yes, yes,” he dismissed, waving a hand forward, which sent the object floating to Val.
“Thank you.” Val curtsied.
###
The group arrived back at the meadow as the sun was setting, streaming golden beams through the trees and light fog. They approached the cottage and found Sister Mary standing out front.
“Bless you, you’ve returned just in time!” the nun exclaimed.
“I have the object,” Val announced, pulling the rusty item from her inventory.
“Most excellent,” said Sister Mary. “I will have you hang on to that for now.”
‘226,500 XP’ appeared and then floated away. Matt hoped it was enough.
“Wait here a moment,” Sister Mary instructed, opening the teal door to her cottage. A moment later, she re-emerged with a cup. “Hold this for me, dear?”
Matt obediently took it. The liquid inside smelled bitter and a little sweet.
Val leaned over to investigate and wrinkled her nose. “I am not drinking that leaf stuff.”
Sister Mary paused by the chains, then she affixed the manacles to her ankles. She gestured for Matt to approach with the cup.
“Oh, and my chair,” the nun said. “Would you please set it inside for me?”
Kurtis obliged while Matt handed over the liquid. Sister Mary drank it in three large gulps and then lowered herself to the porch. She stared off at the sun as it dipped out of view.
“I suppose I am lucky,” the nun said, still staring at the spot where the sun had been. “Lucky that the gravemist doesn’t always kill.” She turned to face Matt’s group. “Thank you for your assistance today. I suggest you retire to your tent. Keep your distance and all will be right by morning.” She then proceeded to remove her shoes and set them beside the cup.
The text, ‘Help Sister Mary prepare: complete,’ appeared in front of Matt, followed by ‘45,000 XP.’
I’ll take it, he thought, though still confused.
Then Sister Mary winced and clutched at her stomach. He rushed forward to help her but she held up a hand.
“I’m alright,” she insisted. “Run along. We will speak tomorrow.”
Matt approached Fallyn, Val, and Kurtis a few feet away. “Shouldn’t we do something?”
“Like what?” Val asked, looking past Matt to the rough wooden porch.
“I don’t know but…” Matt trailed off as he heard cracks behind him.
Val gaped.
Matt whipped around to face the noise.
The nun’s back arched and expanded and she fell onto all fours. Her face jutted violently into a snout—a few inches, then more. Coarse gray fur started to sprout through her skin, and Sister Mary’s groan of pain turned into a growl.