"Sit yourself down and listen and I will spin you a tale of Rashan the
Mighty."
Now when Rashan was small he turned to his mother the Spolite Queen and spoke, "Mummy,"
"Yes, even Spolite Queens are called mummy by their offspring, now silence
yourself. Now, where was I? Oh yes."
"Mummy, when I grow up I want to be a great hero." His mother, the Spolite
Queen heard and in her heart, or that space that takes the place of a heart
in a Spolite Queen she was troubled by this request for young Rashan was
tiny and malformed. No doubt due to the evil of her acts and thoughts for
even the innocent suffer from such contact.
"What? Cut the commentary? But that's the ethical core of my tale. Oh
all right I will strive to limit my comments. Is that sufficient? Fine
then."
She was troubled for she loved her tiny spawn and wished naught but the best for him. But how to overcome his puny frame and sickly disposition? She ruffled his hair and bestowed upon him one of her rare hugs. Smiling she said, "Of course sweetling, anything mummy can do to help I shall do so. Just give me time to thing on it." This satisfied the lad for one so young knows naught but unconditional love for his dam. So the Spolite Queen thought and pondered. There was dark magic she had heard of that could turn a man into one of the dire denizens of the night but this would alter his very nature and appearance and this she could not bear.
So for seven times seven seasons she thought on this matter. During that time the Queen hired the best tutors for the lad and he was instructed in the arts of the hazar. The theoretical he mastered with ease, there was naught wrong with his brains. The physical alas he was hopeless at. He couldn't spar for the weakest opponent was too much for him. He could not climb for the slightest obstacle proved to be too much for him. Swinging on a rope left him with ropeburns and bruises when he fell. But for all that Rashan was and wasn't a quitter was not among them. He had to be watched and even restrained from over exerting himself, or even killing himself. In that puny, twisted frame beat the heart of a hero. All his tutors bore the same message to the Spolite Queen, Rashan was smart enough and the will was there but he would never be the stuff of heroes.
This troubled the Queen and she searched for an answer. And finally in the boy's 15th year on the very brink of manhood she found an answer. An alchemist came forward, for the word had long been spread that the Spolite Queen would bestow great rewards on anyone who could transform her son's weak frame. This alchemist spoke of a secret potion that only he knew the secret of, a dire brew that could transform a person and make them the stuff of heroes.
"No, I don't know what was in it. If I knew that do you think I would be
sitting here, a twisted old storyteller? No, I would be off slaying dragons
and monsters. Now, shush."
This alchemist sought a rich reward and the Queen promised to cover him with gold and precious gems. She also promised dire retribution should anything bad happen to her son. Her countenance darkened and the alchemist blanched at this. But he was a fool and agreed to proceed. The Queen gave him everything he requested not blinking or flinching at some of the foul ingredients, nor hesitating to sacrifice the innocent for the alchemist's purposes. The brewing of the potion was a mighty endeavour and the Queen assisted by casting dark magics and calling upon foul beasts not of this world. Many a loathsome pact was sworn and many a horrendous bargain made. Together they strove for seven times seven weeks. Finally the potion was nearly finished. The final ingredients were a bull and a lion. The mightiest of the mighty of these two species were required and the Queen arranged for a Great Hunt.
The Great Hunt was a glorious affair indeed. All the greatest huntsmen of the land gathered and swore a mighty oath to deliver up to the Queen the kings of the bull and lion tribes. The huntsmen were divided into two parties each led by one of the Queen's henchmen through whose eyes she could see and through whose lips she could issue commands. Long did they track these mighty beasts, fully seven times seven days. These great beasts vied with all the animal cunning and supernormal intelligence at their commands. But these were as naught compared to the Queen's foul magics and the abilities of the hunters. Finally each of the two parties had managed to corner a king. The kings made as to fight for their lives, the lesser members of their tribes having been scattered and left long behind them. But a fight was not to be, the Queen's agents in each party made a gesture and a magical net was cast which entangled the king. Once entangled the beasts fell strangely docile. The huntsmen cared naught for this end to the hunt. Indeed they had already felt disquiet at the actions of the Queen's men and the use of foul magic. Gold silenced their complaints though. None of them however would speak of that hunt afterwards though.
The Queen's retainers returned with the ensnared bull and lion who were brought into the alchemist's lair never to be seen again. After a final night of foul magics, desperate roaring and blood the potion was finally finished. Despite its mighty magical properties it had the seeming, for the Spolite Queen was of course a mighty illusionist, of a simple cordial such as the Queen was wont to serve her son from time to time. Despite his puniness and lack of physical prowess the prince was well favoured at the court for his kind spirit and noble nature. There had been much muttering among the court at the Queen's aims in working with the alchemist. All this had come to naught however due to the Queen's spies and the general atmosphere of fear at the court. So no one suspected aught when a young maid brought the prince yet another cordial to drink. The prince always humoured his mother having a peculiarly blind eye when it came to his mother's nature. What happened next is not known. It is known that the prince drank the cordial and that he then screamed as though he was being rended into pieces. The maid then fled in terror also screaming.
The Queen rushed to her son's bedchamber accompanied by the alchemist. There she found a stranger tangled in her son's sheets. Gone forever was the slight youth of unhealth demeanour and lank hair. Instead she found a giant of a man with the grace of a lion and the strength of a bull. He lay still, as though dead but she quickly determined through her magics that he was indeed alive and healthy. She smiled and turned to the alchemist who stood there greedily counting up his promised reward. She smiled at him and the alchemist faltered, not liking her smile at all. "And now for your reward," she said. She made an arcane gesture and the chamber was rocked as though by an earth tremor. The floor split and a dreadful apparition emerged. To describe it is to attempt to describe madness itself. This creature turned to look at the alchemist, and he stood there frozen by terror. He did squeak a protest though saying, "But you promised me a rich reward." "Oh and I intend to keep my promise. This creature will reward you for your greed and stupidity by covering you in gold and precious gems. Molten gold of course. For I have made a bargain with this creature and I always keep my promises to the letter. No one else shall benefit from your potion." The creature moved forward and a familiar but unfamiliar voice spoke. "No, Mother this shall not be."
All parties turned and saw Rashan standing there nude. He locked eyes with
the dread creature and it was forced to turn its eyes away. Truly now was
he Rashan the Mighty. "I do not know what sort of deal you made with this
abomination but it shall not stand. What does this," he paused in disgust,
"thing wish instead. It simply has to name it and I shall see it done."
The Spolite Queen was furious inside, she hadn't counted on her son
possessing a vigorous spirit AND a physical vigor to back it up. She turned
to the abomination and questioned it. Her face drained of color as it told
her what it would accept in place of the alchemist. She visibly faltered and
did not immediately respond. "What mother, what does it wish? I have made
a promise and Rashan keeps the letter and the spirit of his vows." She
turned to her son and said, "It wish the heart of the Ogre of Mount
Rakshish. "So be it," said Rashan.
To be continued...
Oliver
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