Author Note:

I said that advent 4 would start this week but then I decided that this scene fit better as an intermission chapter. Both intermissions are basically advent 4 - part 0.5 anyway. 

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I stared past a shattered stained-glass window to observe the setting sun. Slowly but surely the crimson sky faded away under an oppressive darkness. Gone was the hour of man, now it was the time of monsters. For a human’s imagination may be ignited within shadows but it can hardly comprehend the true dangers that lurk within them.  

Huh, that one was pretty good. I thought to myself. Silently, I decided to record that observation for later. Noblewomen get into a frenzy after reading such things. Though, being a prince also helps. I would only have a couple more years to make conquests before I’m forced to take a bride. So I may as well use everything at my disposal.

“Leonard, write this down for me…” I turned to my weary-eyed scribe. Then, just as I did so, a loud groan from the door behind me forced my attention elsewhere. The battered main door of this ruined church slid open and the offenders were greeted by a wall of spears. My bodyguards were agitated from the darkness and weary from travel. Even so, to react in such a rash manner meant that they were lacking in discipline.

“P-Please don’t kill us!” An aging man in the front of the crowd whimpered. At the sight of my servant’s spears he quickly fell into a prostrating gesture. Many others followed his lead. There seemed to be around 20 of them in total.

“Who are you people?” A young woman stepped out from the group. “Are you guards? We haven’t broken any laws.”

“Of course you haven’t.” I agreed, waving my bodyguards back with a smile. “Peasants, do not be afraid. We are all here for the same reason…”

“You’re here to see the storyteller, then?” She raised an eyebrow. “With those weapons?”

“I’m here to listen, just as you are.” I flashed her a predatory grin. I was used to older men questioning my authority. Even though I’m a prince, they’ll assume that their age makes up for the difference in our positions. However, I have never met a girl who would speak to me in such a manner. What’s more, she looked to be in her mid-teens and was likely younger than me. “I simply wish to request a certain tale from his repertoire.”

“What kind of story is it?” She looked up at me with clear, yet innocent, interest.

“I can’t say much…” I forced myself to turn away. “It’s about my family history.”

After the initial tension dispersed, most of these peasants decided to ignore my guards. They sat down on rotting benches or protruding rocks while they waited for the storyteller. Of course, a few did decide to find their entertainment elsewhere. My presence was certainly difficult for a commoner to handle. I’m surprised that so many chose to stay.

“Hmm, I feel bad for driving them away.” I spoke to no one in particular. “Oh well, I’ll be paying more than all of them combined.”

“He doesn’t take money.” The bold girl from earlier spoke to me.

“Pardon?”

“Money. The storyteller doesn’t take any.”

“Then why does he…?” I couldn’t believe this. If this girl was correct, then I might be wasting my time here. “He doesn’t ask for anything in return?”

“No. He simply tells his stories and leaves.” She released a short sigh. “I don’t understand it either.”

Huh, I heard he was quite a greedy man. I certainly wasn’t positive, but I had a guess about the storyteller’s identity. A guess that I was suddenly much less sure about. Nevertheless, I still had a job to do. No matter who he is, this storyteller will tell me what I need to hear.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“It’s time.” An unfamiliar voice echoed through the room. I looked around frantically and then remembered my composure. I nearly lost it once more when I noticed a man standing at the center of the room. He certainly had not been there earlier.

“T-That’s him.” Leonard whispered.

“Guards!” I yelled. It was against my nature to shout in such a barbaric manner but these incompetent fools needed something to jolt them from their daze. The storyteller stood obediently while my four bodyguards surrounded him.

“…What’s this about?” He ignored them and looked straight at me. Despite my best effort, I could not discern anything from his covered face. Even his eyes were hidden away in darkness.

“Ahem…Yes, uh…” This whole adventure suddenly seemed more dangerous than I had anticipated. “I trust that you received my letter?”

He nodded silently.

“Well then, I decided that if you wouldn’t come to me then I would come to you.”

“Then you’re here to listen to my stories?”

“One story in particular. I want to hear about the Maelstrom.”

My request sent the crowd into a frenzied chatter.

             “Maelstrom!?”

                                              “He means what happened in Wren!”

                                “That’s forbidden by the church.”

              “They say that demons descended on the city like locusts.”

                                                                             “The survivors don’t dare speak of it.”

            “You’ll be cursed.”

                                                “That’s not a story that should be told.”

A number of them made for the door. However, everyone stopped when the storyteller spoke again. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you about it.” He did not sound frustrated or resigned. If anything he seemed happy to oblige. “When you said Maelstrom, something came to me. It seems that this story wants to be told.”

The departing crowd silently returned to their seats. It seemed that their curiosity had won out. I briefly thought about forcing them to leave. This story might compromise my family in some way. I shouldn’t carelessly create witnesses.

But is he really a part of my family? After looking at him I began to doubt myself even further. My great-grandfather, a former king, disappeared during the incident known as the Maelstrom. There are many unpleasant rumors about my great-grandfather’s involvement in this event.

“Now then…” The storyteller clapped once and there was no longer room for me to interject.

By accepting my order in such a way, he had maintained control over the room. My guards waved their heads around like chickens, unsure of their place in our conversation. I lifted my hand and called them back as the storyteller readied himself.

Just you wait… Seeing how he naturally controlled the situation gave me a little more confidence in my guess. Make up all the rumors you want, peasants. I’ll be hearing it straight from the source. 

“Let us begin.” It was impossible to tell under that black cloth but I could swear that the storyteller was smiling.