The Boy-Hero

Fairchild, the Boy-Hero, sat in his large castle, given to him for saving the kingdom. He was wearing an oversized cape and crown and other fineries that he felt were too extravagant for someone like him. He presided over a small plot of land, run and maintained by fairies, who were glad to do so for free, for everything Fairchild had done for the kingdom.

Fairchild was overly grateful for his new wealth, but had become restless a year after he had saved the kingdom. He looked in the mirror, and, seeing his reflection, felt like he didn’t know who he was. He had grown up on a farm with his brother, and felt odd, living in such a big place and presiding over fairies. 

There was only one fairy he wanted to see, and that was his birth fairy. A fairy with purple skin and fluttering wings who could fit in the palm of his hand. His own father had died when he was just a baby, and this fairy, who had been with him for so long, was a surrogate fairy—fairies who came to children who were missing one or both parents. Eidolwyn, his fairy, had been troubled after the kingdom was saved, and left without a word. 

Fairchild, sitting on his throne and not knowing what to do with himself, put his oversized crown to the side, and stood up, heading for the exit. He passed by many different types of fairies who asked him where he was going. He in turn asked them where Surrogate Fairies went when troubled. Most of them didn’t know, but one of them suggested looking in the Dark Woods. That was where they often went to retire.

Fairchild nodded and went to his stables, where he mounted his trusty pony, Egg, who he had named due to its white color. From there, he began his long, three day journey to the woods.

Fairchild set off through the icy landscape, through snow whirls and inch thick snow. He was originally from the Southlands, where it was warm. But since the death of his mother and brother at the hands of the demons, he had nothing left and the Southlands brought him too many painful memories. 

As he rode, he was reminded of the first time he had come to the Northlands.

***

He, Eidolwyn, and his brother, Dew, were called to the north by the king—an elf named Gholorin—after defeating demons who had attacked their village and farm. Fairchild had been blessed by a local wizard with a magic sword dubbed gluckdrich—a golden sword given to those who were meant to change the world.

His brother was given a staff, and was one of the only humans to be blessed with magic. 

They had ridden through the Southlands on their ponies through the desert of Haldrin, braving heatstroke, demons, and desert animals, and then on to the Northlands, where they had to hunt for food and kill a bear for its skin. When they finally appeared before the elven king, they were exhausted. 

The elven king, Gholorin looked down his pointed nose at them when they arrived. He said, “I understand that you two had to travel a long time to get here and you probably faced many trials… but it is an utter disgrace to come before the king looking and smelling like that. Seeing as how you are mere fourteen-year-old children, I will forgive you. I thank you for coming. There is much to be done. As you know, the demons are trickling out of the Ebony Lake to the east quickly, and they are infesting our lands. Please, take our finest warrior with you, Algo, and defeat this menace before it spreads further.”

Dew made a face, “You are truly rude. I thought elves were supposed to be elegant and polite.” The comment surprised Fairchild—usually Fairchild was the rude one. 

“I suggest,” Gholorin said slowly, “you know your place, dirty urchin.”

Dew turned up his hands, “I’m not the one calling other people dirty urchins.”

Fairchild, at the behest of Eidolwyn, chimed in hastily and inclined his head, “We thank you for your hospitality.” 

Gholorin’s nose twitched in annoyance, then he cleared his throat and said, “You may stay here one night to rest. Then, I want you out of my castle.”

Fairchild and Dew hastily left the throne room, and they got to know Algo a bit more before they left. A charming elf of a different race than the king. He was four-feet-tall and his race was dubbed humble, while Gholorin’s was dubbed elegant. 

***

At such memories, Fairchild found frozen tears rolling down his cheeks as Egg charged forward through the snowstorm. He remembered the mild-mannered elf being a comfort to everyone—always having a kind word or wisdom to share. Fairchild wiped his tears away, and the snowstorm cleared enough for him to see ahead. He pulled the reins on his horse, yelling as a white rabbit dashed in front of his horse. 

The rabbit yelled, “Watch it, kid! What are you doing out here anyway?”

Fairchild’s brows furrowed. “None of your business—” 

The rabbit interrupted, “You! You’re the one I’m looking for! I must lead you to the woods!”

Fairchild made a face, “You? A rabbit?” 

“Don’t sass me, boy. You’re already going the wrong way. Snowstorms get people all sorts of turned around. Rabbits can merely follow their noses! You need me.”

Fairchild felt incredibly uneasy about committing to following the rabbit. “Why should I follow a creepy, red-eyed, white rabbit?”

“Such a rude boy!” The rabbit exclaimed. “I told you. You’ll never get there on your own in this snowstorm.” 

“Why are you offering, anyway?” Fairchild questioned.

“Because I need to go to the forest and you are clearly capable of protecting me. My family lives there, but I am aiming to move them to a meadow I found to the south.” The rabbit said.

“How do I know you’re not a demon? You have their red eyes!” Fairchild exclaimed.

The rabbit snorted. “If I were a demon, I would have attacked you already.” 

Fairchild thought about it, then shrugged. “I guess you can tag along. What’s your name?”

“Sir Kop.”

Fairchild made a face. “Have you really been knighted?”

“Of course I have! Foolish boy!” Kop spat. “You doubt me?”

“Just get on the horse.” Fairchild said. Kop hopped up on the back of the horse, murmuring indignantly the whole time.

The pair rode in silence but for Kop giving directions, and then the sun began to set behind the dark clouds—a layered, pale pink sunset bursting forth brilliantly. 

“Pull over in those pinewoods and we’ll make camp!” Kop yelled over the churning of the horse’s hooves.

Fairchild obeyed, steering his horse into the woods. He dismounted and set about making a fire, which bloomed to life brilliantly. Fairchild enjoyed the sound of the crackling fire and the woody smell of it. He warmed his hands, not realizing how chilled to the bone he had been. 

Kop fell asleep easily. Fairchild knew it would be some time before sleep took him. He stared into the fire intensely, his mind wandering. His eyes were drawn in, closer and closer, until he startled with a gasp.

***

In an underground dwarven city that was on fire, screams filled the ears of Fairchild, Eidolwyn, Dew, and Algo. They had stopped by the city to help its citizens on the way to Ebony Lake. Fairchild had unsheathed his blade, observing the chaos around him. Men, women, and children all being chased and pursued by demons—black creatures made of smoke, crawling around on four legs. Horns, curled like snakes, adorned their blackened heads. 

Bravely, Fairchild threw himself into the fray, defending the dwarven citizens. Dew was shaking in his boots, paralyzed with fear as Fairchild blocked a clawed blow from a demon, then easily pushed the creature back. A demon snuck up on him, and would have killed him, but it was plugged with three enchanted light arrows from the quiver of Algo, who saluted Fairchild with a grin before unleashing a dozen more arrows that met their mark at lightning quick speed. 

Fairchild glanced at Dew to see him being overrun with dozens of demons. Dew said one’s mind had to be clear in order to cast spells. 

Fairchild launched himself into the battle. Cutting down a demon who had its back turned to him, and then launching his blade at one who was about to run his brother through with a clawed hand. His brother, seeing Fairchild working extra hard, closed his eyes, sat down, and prayed to clear his mind. Once Dew finished chanting, the whole area was bathed in light and feathers that became blinding, and most of the demons were banished. Fairchild and Algo picked off the remaining demons.

From there, a brave dwarf named Orin joined them, who had been responsible for many demon deaths and many lives saved. An old man with a gray beard, he had much wisdom to share. 

But when the battle was done, Fairchild looked at the bloody battlefield and his stomach curdled. 

***

Fairchild snapped back to reality, not realizing he had drawn his blade instinctually. He sweated profusely, then put it away. Kop saw him and tsked. “Trapped in the past young man? Shouldn’t you be looking toward the future?”

Fairchild hugged his knees. “When I think of the future, it seems empty. I don’t know what I would even do with myself. Everyone I love is gone…”

Kop hopped over to him and placed a paw on his arm. “You’ll see them in heaven.”

Fairchild laughed bitterly. “Right. Maybe. I want to go on adventures with them… laugh with them, talk with them. But I failed them. How will there be a place in heaven for me? When I returned home without them, there were cheers, celebrations, and dedications. But no mourning. No one felt their loss as deeply as I did. We were all together for three years while we fought the demons… and for all my work, they all seemed like they didn’t even know me or acknowledge me.”

Kop sighed. “Some young men become soldiers looking for glory. They don’t realize that there’s no glory left after the war is done. That was how I got knighted. I was once a hero, too, thousands of years ago.”

“Thousands of years…?” Fairchild was incredulous.

“Yes. Don’t give me that look, I’m serious. It felt like I was a different person when I was a warrior… I had my own group of comrades like you. Some lived, some died. Our bonds were unbreakable due to the strife we faced, and whenever I let myself remember that other life, I am drawn into the deepest pit of sadness and anger that’s nearly inescapable, until I let myself remember that that life is over, and there is peace now.”

Fairchild couldn’t help the glistening of his eyes at the rabbit’s words, and somehow, he was able to sleep for the first time in months.

Fairchild and Kop rode for the next day and a half in quiet understanding. After the rabbit had shown that he knew what it was like to lose his comrades in battle, he felt a kindred spirit in him—an ease of being that couldn’t be obtained around those who had lived peaceful lives.

When they were just hours away from the woods, it began raining heavily, a curtain of water showering the frozen landscape. And soon enough, little shards of hail were spat from the sky.

Fairchild, whose mind had been at peace for the past few days, was now drawn into the chaos of the past. He remembered the final confrontation with the demons at Ebony Lake. That was when he had failed everyone.

***

There was a heavy mist when Fairchild, Dew, Algo, and Orin arrived at the Ebony Lake, obscuring the demons. Fairchild’s hands shook uncontrollably as he drew his blade. He tried to steady his hands, to no avail. He didn’t know what was wrong. Normally, it was Dew who shook uncontrollably—who needed to be protected—but now, at the final battle, he couldn’t calm his pulse as red eyes popped up from the mist, then disappeared. 

Algo shouted something, but his ears were ringing. The elf launched dozens of arrows that met their mark, and Dew began chanting his spell. Orin proudly launched himself into battle, charging into the mist with a mighty roar.

His comrades were doing well dispatching the demons. He saw the red eyes going out like lights in the mist, but still, Fairchild’s hand remained frozen on his blade. 

Then, in the haze, he saw a pair of red eyes looming ten-feet-tall in the darkness. He swallowed.

His companions all attacked at once. A dazzling arrow of light from Algo pierced the heavy mist, revealing the gigantic demon that stood within—its sharp teeth glinted as it roared, the sheet of ice under their feet vibrating, a crack forming on it. It had twisted back legs and hooves like a goat, its hands were clawed, and as it roared, dozens of more demons were summoned.

His companions first completed their assault on the big demon, more arrows flew, Orin’s enchanted, red axe danced with the demon in the mist, and Dew’s light magic shot forth like a lightning bolt, parting the mist and piercing the demon through the heart. The demon shrieked, and it was brought to its knees, blocking the blows of Orin with its claws. Dew exclaimed, “Go Fair! Finish it!”

But the demon seemed insurmountable, and Fairchild was waylaid by cowardice. 

The smaller demons that had been summoned began appearing in droves. They surrounded all his companions. 

We can’t win… Fairchild realized. 

Then, the absolute horror of what happened to his companions was burned mercilessly into his mind. His brother was overwhelmed quickly, he tried to start another spell, and Algo tried to cover him, but then the elf was surrounded, too, leaving Dew wide open. The demons pounced on him, eviscerating him and leaving nothing behind but screams that hung heavily in the air. Still, Fairchild remained frozen. Algo lasted a bit longer, piercing several demons with a volley of arrows, then succumbing to the sheer number of them. 

Brave Orin was the last one to die, battling the big demon and striking a devastating blow before he, too, was surrounded and killed. His voice boomed, begging Fairchild to finish the demon. 

Fairchild roused from his stupor, and he launched his blade through the mist. It pierced the big demon’s heart, and all the demons faded from existence.

Fairchild fell to his knees, his mind utterly broken.

***

Fairchild had paused as he let himself remember while they stopped in front of the woods. The woods were enshrouded in mist, just like the lake on that devastating day, and Fairchild cried, “I miss you all so much. Dew, my beloved brother, you were so brave. Algo, so kind and caring, and Orin, so protective and loving. I failed you all.”

Kop glanced at the woods, and then at Fairchild. His long ears drooped in compassion. 

“Fairchild… you said you’re looking for your fairy, didn’t you?” Kop asked.

Fairchild didn’t answer for a moment, his mind was stuck in the past. Then, he nodded slowly. 

“Truth be told, I too, am a fairy. Your brother, Fairchild, was blessed with a fairy, and I was supposed to be yours.”

Fairchild’s mind spun, he felt dizzy, and nearly collapsed. “F—Fairchild? I am Fairchild!”

“No… you’re Dew. You took on your brother’s name and tried to take on his personality. These woods… they will take you to the afterlife where all your companions are, provided you have a relationship with the Almighty. But, I have come to convince you to continue living. You remember how coldly everyone treated you when you returned? They heard of your cowardice, as did I. But the truth is, anyone can freeze on the battlefield. I did, and my companions died in the same way yours did. I’m a bloody coward, and all I can do is try to make up for what I did by living. When you lost your father, I was supposed to be your fairy, but I was waylaid by demons at every turn, and I couldn’t make it to your side until now. Your magic blow was destined to end the demons, and they knew this.”

Fairchild—or Dew’s—mind was in utter pieces. He looked at the woods. They appeared warm and cozy, and he could be with his beloved companions in them again. He stood up and mechanically moved forward. Kop remained silent, not stopping him. He arrived at the tree line, and a memory blazed forth within him.

Fairchild, who was the one who truly died a hero, dispatching all the demons and dealing a devastating blow to the king of the demons alongside Orin (allowing Dew to finish him with his magic), clapped him on the shoulder. “I know you always wanted a fairy like me, but you know what? You’re so strong and brave on your own, I don’t think you need one.”

“Brave…” Dew repeated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I shudder so violently every time I enter battle.” 

“But you do it anyway. That’s what makes a hero.”

Dew was shaking violently now. If he turned back, he would have to face the greatest tragedy of all: Life. And somehow, he managed it.

From the forest, his angelic companions gazed upon him in delight. Their bodies were perfect, not marred like they had been when they saw him last. They wore proud faces, allowing him to continue on despite everything.