The next day the family awoke and was eating breakfast when suddenly Kregar announced his daily plans to his family.

Dreger was not impressed, “What do you mean you have to go to the city square by midday you're supposed to help me in the fields remember.”

Herbert had woken up before dawn had fully risen and was watching the morning rituals of the family.

“I know, father. I just feel compelled, as though something is telling me to go there today.” Dreger looked at his son, a look of bewilderment across his face.

“Why son, what has gotten into, is it because of last night? Has this whole idea of being a king gotten to your head already?”

Kregar ate his meal. He could not describe why, but it was like a sort of fate was telling him to go there, he had to. Later at around midmorning he and his father were getting their animals ready for their work in the field that day when Herbert came around the corner.

“Good-morning, my lords.”

The farmer at most ignored him but nodded his head.

“Good-morning Herbert, any plans today?”

Herbert was crawling up the rafters, and onto the hail bail he had slept in the previous night.

“Not really, I was planning on napping today, doing some exploring. This is my first time out in the wider world, you know.”

Herbert was smiling at the pair before vanishing to the second floor of the barn, and the only thing Kregar heard was the squeaking of the mouse.

“Come on Kregar, let's go and start gathering the southern field.”

Kregar walked out of the barn, and followed his father, Herbert looked out the window watching the pair walking out into the winding hills.

Herbert looked around, “I think I will head into town. I have an entire fortnight, might as well get to know the town while I am here.”

With that notion he made his back down onto the ground and began the journey into town.

In the field Kegar was hard at work, the sun was warm today, and the sky was cloudless. Sweat had already started dripping from his head and onto his clothes, and mostly dry ground. Though they had rain it was not enough. Most of the plants were dying, many of the old folks in town who could not work anymore were saying that they were cursed. Kregar tried not listening to them, his father had said that it was just a bit of bad luck. Kregars’ family had been farmers for as long as you could trace their lineage, which according to his parents could be traced all the way back to when this land was first settled over three hundred years ago. As he was working the working father son pair were being separated by more land until about a good barn length separated them. As the sun according to the sun dial nearby was approaching noon, Kregar was looking about. Even though it was a muggy day he had suddenly felt a chill reach him and go throughout his entire body.

“What on Gorthon was that?”

His father was still far away, focusing on his work. Kregar looked towards the house; nothing to be seen. He gazed around the farmlands; nothing. Lastly, he looked to the barn, and there he saw it. Or whatever it was. Kregar saw a white figure who seemed too not to be there. The figure did not seem to touch the ground and hung in the air like an apparition. The figure used what could only be described as an arm, the arm pointed towards the city, and Kregar nodded, he knew that he could not ignore the call that seemed to come from deep within his mind. The apparition vanished and Kregar set down his tools, it was at this time his father was looking his way. Only to find his son on the road heading towards the town.

“Dammit boy, what are you doing?”

He slowly began to follow his son, calling to him, though Kregar ignored him. “Kregar, where are you going?”

Suddenly Kregar began to run as though the winds had taken him. Dreger stopped at the path in front of his house. Watching his son run into town, though he did not want to admit it, he was proud of his son, he clenched his fist, and said to himself in a whispered tone.

“Go on Kregar, it’s your destiny claim it.”

The white figure appeared behind him and smiled. Watching the farmer, they both watched as he ran down the road and vanished over the hill.

“Now your destiny has arrived, will you take it, or let it slip from your fingers.”

A ghostly white figure said, Dreger swore he heard something behind him at that moment, but when he turned nothing was there, only his wife in the doorway watching him.

“Get the cart, I have a feeling we need to go to town.”

Walking towards the barn he was smiling, like only a father who is proud of his own would smile. Their lives would be changed today whether he liked it or not.

In the town square it was still before noon and Herbert had made his way towards the many shops and market carts that cluttered the town this time of day. Many folks were wandering to and from, making their social visits, or shopping hoping for deals if any. Herbert noted that because of the drought many of the market carts were low if not outright empty with foods like carrots, lettuce, corn, and beats. He was winding from one alleyway and towards another when a cry came out from the market square off to his right some ways. The call drew his attention as well as many onlookers, making his way easily through the crowd, but also making sure he was not stepped on when he saw what had called the cry out. On the ground an older woman was cut bleeding from her arm. Her cart was in ruins, and over her a large robust man with a short blade in hand fresh with blood who stood over her in a dominating position. “What's the problem?”

He was saying in a mocking tone that though he was responding to a quarry he might have had with her.

“You're charging three times more for your food than you did yesterday. That is what your problem is.”

She was in tears, and where he had cut, she was holding tightly. She was pleading with the man when Herbert finally arrived.

“Please just take what you want and please leave me alone.”

The man did not seem to take her pleas into consideration, but he in turn leaned in closer to an uncomfortable distance and began to say something into her ear. Herbert could not hear what he said, but immediately after the woman started to fight him off or at least attempt to, but it was for not. The man was much larger than herself, and her struggle only brought delight to the man, Herbert could not stand for this, whether this lady had changed her prices on her goods mattered not, this sort of behavior he could not stand for. This was when he leaped into action. He charged from the crowd, it was only this when he remembered that though he wanted to commit to an action he could not do much, he was just a mouse, then a thought struck him. ``He was just a mouse, and he would do what none of these common onlookers would make this man pay for.’ He quickly and cautiously approached the entangled pair, as he attempted to find a good place to grab onto, for once the large man found out about him it would be good for the brave mouse.

He carefully grabbed onto the man's trousers, and began to make his way up, until he was able to grab onto the overly large shirt of the man. The man had not ignored this, and when he felt something grab onto him or what it felt to him, something crawling on him he began trying to brush Herbert away with his hand, while still holding onto the poor lady. As this was going on, suddenly a young man's voice reached the ears of the three members of the struggle, but also the crowd who had formed around a mixture of features, some were shocked, others growing, and yet more just watching. Yet none were doing anything to stop it, all except the brave little mouse and a boy of only fifteen or so winters under his belt, as he came charging into the crowd. It was at this moment Herbert felt the hand and felt it hit so hard it threw him off, and onto the ground his mouth was bleeding as a result.

“What in the Pits, a mouse!”

He attempted to step on the mouse, but Herbert was just that much faster, and at that moment Kregar recognized the voice it was that disliked, but mostly kind man Negan, who was dressed like a common crook.

“Mr. Negan, what are you doing to Miss Harron?”

This caught the man off guard, and he stopped trying to crush the mouse to focus on the boy. “Kregar,” he sounded confused.

His face twisted in thought wondering how the boy had recognized him with the hood he was wearing.

“Go boy get out of here, this does not concern you. Go back and tend to your crops.”

He turned away from the boy, and went back to focusing on his victim, who started to scream, “Negan you truly are a villain, stop this madness at once.”

Negan was taking no quarter though as if something of madness had come over the once very sane and colorful character.

“I’m afraid now that I've been made, I think I’ll run off, and you can join me as my hostage, or maybe something more.”

Whilst saying this Negan brought his knife to Miss Harron's’ small neck, and she began to cry. The poor Ms. Harron would gladly never find out what this mysterious fate meant, as at that moment the man received a punch in the jaw from the young, yet very muscular farm boy. He went backward and collapsed onto the remains of the cart; his blade went flying away from him in another direction. Herbert watched from the shadows of the destroyed cart, as Kregar stood over her, his arm still outstretched as it was, he who had delivered the punch. He reached down and helped the poor assaulted woman to her feet.

“Thank you, Kregar, the fates bless you.”

Kregar nodded, and had a bystander guide her away from the cart before turning to the dazed man who slowly began to rise.

“You know what boy,” he began to say as he was getting to his feet.

“That was a good punch, too bad I won't let you do that again.”

He was limping towards the blade which was laying on the ground in between the two of them, but Kregar was faster, and used his newfound energy and grabbed the blade before the oaf could, and held it up, the blade hanging in the crook's face.

“You need to pay for your crimes, Negan.”

He moved the blade a few inches away, but in a no less threatening position.

“This is not right. We are all poor, starving, and trying to get by.”

He waved to the crowd who had just watched, awestruck by what was happening.

“Hurting people, destroying their property, forcing yourself onto them, that is not good people.” Kregar carefully grabbed the blade, and with his strength he took the flat of the blade and broke it over a nearby cart, the blade made a metallic snap, and he threw it on the ground.

“Now you’ve been disarmed, and you're broken.”

At that moment, a bit of blood could be seen coming from the man's mouth where the punch was struck.

“You, what can you do, you're just a farm boy, with an attitude and no respect for his elders.” Kregar smiled, and before Negan could react another punch had landed in his gut, and he went onto the ground on all fours.

“Your punishment should be death. But no, you need to reflect on your crimes Negan, I Kegar, son of Dregar banish you from Buran, and subject you to live out the rest of your days as an outsider, an outlaw! May the fates grant you mercy you will find none here.”

As though in a whirlwind of energy and excitement the crowd chanted echoing Kregars’ words. “Banishment! Banishment!”

The call came from all around and the man who had been broken, was beaten. The crowd got closer and closer. Negan was trying to find an escape, after a moment, he found one and broke through the crowd and vanished off into the unknown, he was never seen in the city again.

The crowd seeing him depart was cheering and others clapped and shook hands with the young man who had saved a poor woman, some he scolded others he cheered with. Yet overall, it was a good day, after a time a cart was seen being pulled into town and on it was his father and mother. They departed and approached their son, and without a word they gave him a loving embrace. Herbert had moved into a nearby alleyway away from the crowds when a faint white light greeted him, it took the form of nothing, but Herbert knew who it was.

“So, you have chosen the boy?”

Herbert smiled and looked at the crowd of cheering people as they lifted Kegar off his feet and praised him.

“Yes, he’s the one Istan, he will be our next king.”

A moment went by as he watched them parade him down the street.

“Meet me on the hill in three days, I will crown him as the sun rises at midday.”

The light faded, and altogether vanished. Herbert slowly went and joined in the festivities, and that night they met again in the barn. They were alone as Dreger and his wife had long since gone to bed and all was quiet.

“So, what did this all mean?”

Kregar was asking him to recount all that had happened within the last day.

“Well, it means you can be king; you have proven your fair to those who are not of your kind; myself in this case. You looked out and aided one in need; like what happened at the market this day. All that is left is for you what do you want, Kregar?”

Kregar looked around him and looked up at the mouse.

“You do not jest about this, do you?”

Hebert shook his head, “I do not, if you want it, it is all yours.”

Kregar paced back and forth. “What if I refuse,” he said with a slightly overconfident smile. Herbert gave a moment of thought, “Well I would move on to the next and see, but that is what makes you special Kregar you are the first and I found you worthy. Just think about it, and if you will, we will be leaving in two days.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Kregar stood still when he mentioned the rate of haste he was given.

“Two days,” Kregar looked up at the mouse who was giving him a look he might only describe as serious.

“Not two years, two months, or two weeks, two days.”

The mouse nodded and was headed towards his hail bail.

“Yes, two days, so if you,” he stopped looking down and saw that the boy was crying.

“I’ll do it,” he said, though his eyes were full of tears and his face was all scrunched up.

“I’ll be your next king, but please I must have my goodbyes.”

Herbert nodded, “And thus you shall have them my young friend, we will leave in two days. We will pack your things and make leave of this place. Now I wish you a good night, and well rest. The next few days will be the hardest thus far.”

Herbert vanished in the hay bales above, Kregar went back into the house and went to lay on his bed. His mind was fleeting with ideas, and fantasies. ‘What was being a king like, what sort of power would he have,’ the mind of the young man raced and went to and from thinking this and that, until he stopped. ‘No,’ he told himself.

“I cannot let being a king change who I am, I won't let it.”

He went to sleep that night troubled, yet sure in mind. Outside his door his father and mother had heard his outcry. They both looked at one another, and nodded, silently they both realized that he had made up his mind. They went back to bed, not wishing to wake up their son, knowing there was nothing they could do to change his set mind.

The next couple of days' business was normal at the farmhouse, and many people from all around congratulated him on his bravery; others gave him and his family what gifts they could afford. Then at last the faithful day came. They had to depart before dawn if they were to make it back to the capital by midday. Kregar and Herbert were outside the house saying their last goodbyes to their son, and the mouse.

“Be safe Kregar, and please try to visit.”

His father was saying as he handed him a pack and a sword they had lying around.

It was simple in nature, but a sound blade. The grip was slightly short in the large hands of Kregar. His mother hugged him for a fifth time, as she said her goodbyes.

“Do not get all crazy now you hear me young man. Behave yourself and be a good king.”

She let him go and looked at the young mouse who was hanging out in a pocket on the young man's shirt.

“You’ll watch after him won’t you Herbert?”

The mouse nodded, “Of course my lady I shall keep an eye on him night and day. I shall give you, my word.”

The woman nodded and walked behind her husband.

“You know if I had known a mouse was going to take my son away and make him a king, I would have thought I’d gone mad.”

The farmer laughed at his little joke, and the couple went to the door and waved the pair off, the night was ending as they got on the main road and headed towards the capital. As the sun was reaching midmorning, a stir in the bushes altered the pair as a man in ragged clothes and a small dagger in hand came out and looked vengeful.

The man looked as though he had not eaten for a while, but Kregar and Herbert could tell immediately that this was Negan, the crook that had assaulted the woman at the market, the one they banished from the town.

“You little brat, you ruined me. I was having a good life swindling the poor and the desperate, but just had to ruin it all did not you.”

The knife jumped from one hand to the other.

“Well now I am going to ruin you, I will kill you, you stupid brat. Die!”

He charged, the wild swinging of the blade caused him to miss Kregar entirely, and in response Kregar beat him down to the ground, with a swift kick in the gut, he was sure he broke a few bones in the process.

“You bastard, you’ll pay for that.”

Negan blurted out struggling to get up as he found a blade on his throat.

“No, I won't, leave us be Negan, I don’t need a broken man's blood on my hands.”

Negan looked over the knife carefully making sure it was still in his hands.

“Sure, sure whatever you say right after you die!”

He came up suddenly, and cut at the face of Kregar, who with the twist and thrust of the blade pierced Negan's’ neck, making him gurgle with blood rushing out his face, and the wound he caused made sure that Negan would bleed out fast. From his hand the blade dropped to the ground fresh with the blood from Kregars’ check which he had slashed open. Herbert, who had been hiding inside his friend's pack, came out to see what had happened. When he did, he saw that Kregar was moving his body off the road and cleaning his blade.

“Are you alright, Kregar?” Herbert asked as he looked over at his friend in a genuinely concerned manner. Kregar looked down, his face a mixture of emotions.

“I let him live, Herbert, I gave him a second chance, and this is how he used it. What a waste.” Herbert nodded and watched as his friend carefully placed the body far from the road and into the woods.

“I cannot say what a man thinks, but I do know this, his judgment lies with the Fates now, and only they can decide what comes of him.”

Kregar went back onto the path, and was making his way up the hill, when they saw it up in the far distance was the capital, but it was not how Herbert had seen just a handful of days prior, there were no people, but the city looked as though it had been repaired the smell of rot and decay did reach their noses. Herbert was amazed though he could not take long to stare as they approached the bottom of the hill. The castle, long since in disrepair, stood tall, and glorious for all to see. Herbert pointed to the tree atop the hill saying.

“Go there, go to the top of the hill.”

Kregar went that way, and once on top of the hill he set down his pack and sat on the rock. Herbert looked around; the whole countryside was filled with motion as though even the world around knew something new was coming. The sun shone brightly on them.

“Midday should be here shortly.”

The mouse said judging by where the sun hung in the air. After some time with the sun beating down on them, the mystery of the city's recovery came to them as a citizenry he had never seen before made their way out of the city and towards them on the hill. The first to be among them was an older man with graying hair. His clothing was white, and he carried the same staff Herbert had seen with him last time.

“Hail my lords,” he said, coming closer to them. Herbert came close and looked closely at the figure.

“Istan, is that you?”

The figure nodded and looked over at the young man who did not know what to do except watch. “Is he ready, Herbert?”

The mouse nodded, and in his own mouse way indicated that Kregar should come closer to the old man.

“Greetings Kregar, I am Istan are you ready for your coronation?”

Kregar did not understand, his face confused turned to Herbert who only nodded with confidence.

“Coronation? What, coronation?”

Istan and Herbert smiled, “yours Kregar, you must be crowned in front of your people so they may see their new king.”

The mouse was alight with joy. Kreger smiled and nodded. It was all he could manage.

“Yes,” began Istan, “and what better way than in the company of other royals as well.”

Herbert and Kregar looked at the figure with confusion.

“What other royals Istan?”

The mouse looked around. Istan in response guided their attention to streams of banners off in the distance flying towards them, so many there were looking at a field of color, but the grandest of them all was the very first. It was a simple banner with a large white face of a bagger with a crown above its head, and sword facing away from it making its center, amongst which was a field of green. There were others as well, one with many trees upon a golden field. One that had a Mace in its center, and one that had a horse on the field of gray. There were so many he and Herbert had never seen such a great host before. It was only a mere few moments before the host joined them. In their lead was a man that was the age of Kregars’ father. Yet he was much grander as he wore a fancy green tunic, and a grand silver crown. On his side was a sword that seemed dark with mystery. Yet he was merry as well as the rest of his party. By the time they arrived several other common folks who had come from the city had joined them on the hill. Istan went in the middle and whispered a few words to the leader of the procession. The person nodded and said a few quiet words to his followers. Istan came back to Kregar and smiled.

“Your path has long been written to this moment, are you ready?”

Kregar looked down to Herbert who winked at the young man and nodded.

Kregar smiled, ''I am ready.”

Istan smiled, he extended his arms wide. While he gave his proud proclamation.

“Kneel, Kregar, son of Dreger.”

Kregar knelt on the grassy hill and looked deep into the eyes of the ethereal being. He pulled out his sword, and with both his hands he presented it to Istan.

“A family sword?”

Istan asked, curiously looking over the simple blade.

Kregar nodded, a sweltering of pride from deep within came out.

“Yes, it was my grandfathers during the war, and my father gave it to me.”

Istan nodded and took the blade into his hands.

“With this blade, with these witnesses, and among this hill. I grant you Kregar no more, now King Kregar the Just, son of Dreger, King of Southan, Protector of the People, and Guardian of the South. Long may he reign.”

The party of royal visitors and commonfolk chanted the last line, so it echoed across the hills. Istan had while he was making these titles brought the young king’s sword to either side of his shoulders. Afterwards he handed the blade gently back to him, in which case he set aside, as he was Istan had produced a crown from his gown, and it stood a glimmering gold. It was encased with many rubies and other colorful gems. These encased the brim, and the towers of the grand design.

“Long live the new king.”

Many bowed, others nodded in respect. As he approached the visitors their leader finally spoke to him.

He nodded respectfully to King Kregar, “It is often said in my house in a strange country you find your closest friends, the hand of Than-In stands if you need our blades, we will come.” Kregar nodded, “Southan would be honored to be friends with the kings of Than-In.”

The two monarchs shook hands, and the crowd cheered, suddenly a voice called from the crowd. “Sirs, the feast is ready in the great hall!”

Everyone cheered, and slowly headed down the hill to the castle. Kregar and Gregory went down talking of the rigors of kingship. Herbert had stayed on the hill with Istan and a man that was in the party with Gregory but had lingered. When Herbert turned, they were speaking together in a tongue he did not recognize.

“Istan, what now?”

The pair stopped and smiled at the mouse.

“Live my old friend, you have earned it.”

The figure who was wearing blue robes nodded, a humble grin upon his lips.

“Indeed, the world is filled with too much wickedness to take out the good.”

Herbert looked down as the party was entering the city, it looked renewed. Herbert could not help but think of it as though from years past.

“What happened, how?”

The mouse was indicating to the city, and all that was done. That was when the blue one began to speak.

“Well, I gathered all the loose commonfolk I could find and set them to the task, and with some of my magics we brought this city back to its former glory.”

Herbert smiled, indeed the city looked much as it had all those years before the decay. As he was looking out, a thought crossed his mind.

“Istan will it not be an issue that there are two kings?”

Istan looked lost, for merely a moment but quickly recovered.

“My dear friend, King Jenus passed away this morning. He is now in a better place. May his spirit rest in peace in the Halls of Mentros.”

Herbert went over to the rock, he put his head in his hands, and began to weep.

“I am sorry master I failed you, I promised I helped you, and I never did.”

Istan patted his friend on the back, picked him up, and put him on the rock. Grabbing his chin made the mouse who was still crying look at him.

“Dry your eyes friend, he is at peace, one that he rightfully deserved, the elf had long addled his mind, it was a blessing he passed in peace.”

Herbert wiped his eyes, but was still huffing, and grasping.

“Do not forget who he was, honor his memory, but death is a part of all paths, and we must accept this. Live for him and carry his name. Leave the dead, for they are gone, but never forget them, for they will never forget you.”

Herbert nodded and tried to get a grip on himself.

“Come we must not let this day be mournful. The crowning of a king is a wondrous day.”

As they began down the hill Herbert noticed that Istan was not with them, looking back he saw that he was vanishing.

“Istan, aren’t you coming?”

The old man laughed, “I wish I could, but I have matters to attend to elsewhere, please drink a cup in my absence, I’ll see you again soon.”

With that the old man known as the creator Istan vanished. He was not seen in that part of the world again, but some say that where he vanished white daisies grew ones that cannot die even in the grips of winter.

The blue stranger and Herbert went into the castle smiling.

“You know I have a wonderful stomach for a mouse.”

Said Herbert when they spotted the barrels of wines and meads. The man in blue said in turn, “Well let's see what you can do against a wizard.”

The pair laughed and began to drink the night away. That night there was much merriment and cheer. It seemed to have lasted for years, to some, but before the party was dismissed King Kregar stood in front of his table, and made a toast to all saying, “I cannot be king without all of you, I thank all you my friends, allies, and people. May we live in peace once more!”

A cheer went up, and many drank. The king allowed the royal guests to stay if they required and allowed the common folk to drink and eat their fill.

The castle had not seen such activity in decades or longer. As the night finally ended, and some had already departed, Herbert was in the kitchen drunkenly singing a song. As he did, he drank from a cup and collapsed onto the ground, he did not remember waking up, but when he opened his eyes, he saw a sight he would forever remember.

A corridor filled with white, there was no real color to be found, suddenly he saw materialize out of thin air, a man who wore grand robes, and a crown on his head. His hair was deep red, and his face young, but Herbert knew who it was instantly.

“Master,” he called out to the figure.

King Jenus turned around and smiled, a laugh had left his lips as he called back.

“Herbert, come here you.”

The king grabbed his pet and held him tight. Setting him in his palm he had seen his true age. “Herbert, you’ve aged?”

Herbert was starting to cry, “Only waiting for you Jenus, I was waiting for you.”

King Jenus set Herbert on his shoulder, and they walked off into the deeper light.

“I’m sorry my old friend we have so much to talk about.”

The pair vanished into the light, they forever left this world, parting ways with it for the last time.

After some time, Kregar was looking for his elder mouse friend, he only found his body next to his cup, Ardon; the wizard in blue robes would later say that he died of old age, his soul had finally caught up with his body, and had passed from this world.

After much delay King Kregar was asked what his family sigil was, and immediately responded to the artisan, “A mouse, a gray house mouse.”

The flag soon hung from all the flagpoles and banner mounts in the kingdom. The rains came back not only to the kingdom of Southan, but to all Mid-Gorthon. With this the great drought finally ended, and the planting and harvesting seasons could carry on as before. One night many weeks later one of the castle servants who had been idle in their chores heard the king in the great hall of the castle whispering to one of the banners.

“They will know of your deeds old friend, I’m just honored to have known you, rest well Herbert savior of Southan, true protector of the realm.”

Many years would pass, and the line of Kregars’ family would continue to rule, and everyone knew the story of Herbert the Mouse, passed down from parent to child till the end of their days.

The End