16 May 2024

This is from that same series of Tumblr posts that inspired both yesterday’s and the recent Rumpelstilskin stories. It went something like this: “You finished the quest and killed the dragon. However, instead of giving you the promised rewards, the townsfolk chase you out. So you do something no one’s dared do. You resurrect the dragon.”

Rumors of the dragon terrorizing the town of Birchwood had spread for weeks, with no news that anyone had managed to defeat it. So Valia had understandably expected the town to be more than a little run down, with its citizens cowering out of sight, any that remained.

Instead, the town seemed as busy as ever. Children played freely in the streets, and well-dressed housewives chatted with each other at the market. No patches on any of the pants or dresses, and Valia caught a whiff of one woman wearing an expensive perfume as she walked by.

She made her way to the adventurer’s guild, noting that the building was far more grand than the guild would require in a town of this size. The silence within only reinforced the feeling; instead of the crowds laughing and shouting among the tables that Valia was used to, the place was deathly quiet with only a couple of receptionists manning the desk.

Valia walked up to one, a younger woman with light brown hair pulled back in a bun. The reception flashed her a customer service smile. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here about the dragon.”

“Ah, yes.” The receptionist handed he a stack of paper. “The quest information is on top; underneath you can find the usual contracts, wavers, etc. Once you’ve finished filling these out, you’ll be free to pursue the dragon at your leisure.”

With a nod, Valia took the paperwork and retreated to a table near the window. The contract seemed fairly standard. The reward was a bit low for a case growing this infamous, though still within acceptable limits, at least as far as Valia was concerned.

Once she finished reviewing and signing everything, Valia took a few moments to stare out the window. A minute or two later, the receptionist came by and brought out a mug of ale. Valia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t order this.”

“On the house. As a courtesy for any would-be dragon hunters. Unless you prefer something else? Water, perhaps?”

“It’s fine.” Valia turned her gaze back to the window. “Is this town really dealing with a dragon problem, though?”

The receptionist tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

There was a moment of silence before Valia replied, “It’s nothing.” She pushed the paperwork toward the receptionist. “Is there anything else you need before I head out?”

The reception quickly flipped through the stack. “Everything looks to be in order. Good luck on your hunt!”

Valia stood and slunk out the door, leaving her drink untouched.

3 October 2022

So much of this bothered me, and I’m still figuring out all the different reasons why. Part of it was that this was supposed to be a light-hearted story, and it turned really heavy really fast. Part of it, though, is the way it sheds light on a couple major issues I’d overlooked at first. They’re closely tied together, but it still helps me to look at them separately.

First, Kal seems shallow. Why is he doing this? How is he helping make the world better? I’ve had a lot of thoughts on that and what he could be doing behind the scenes, which has been great. I feel like it’s fleshed him out better as a character, and that happened at all because I recognized the issue here.

Second, no good relationship can survive if it’s built on a lie. That’s obvious when I say it like that, but it does mean I need to rethink how Kal presents himself, who he really is, and what that means for him, for Ella, and for their relationship. The truth will always come out. So the question is, is the “Kal” persona a front? Or the real him? The way it’s written, it’s who he wants to be - not who he is. Which means it’s as much of a front as Aladdin’s “Ali Ababwa” persona, in some ways.

As soon as Caspir made it off the palace grounds, the tension bled out of his shoulders. No more eyes watching his every move, no more judgemental looks hiding behind friendly smiles. He was free to just be Kal.

Kal’s trademark, carefree smile naturally blossomed on his face, and he jauntily strode down the street while he tried to guess where Ella might have been sent today. He kept an eye out for any tempting marks, too; he favored the ones that despite their obvious riches, still somehow managed to spend their life looking like they’d just bitten into a lemon. 

Whenever he saw such a person, he would slip by, fingers light as feathers, and relieve them of their wallet or purse. The owners would usually then find them a few hundred feet down the street, divested of coin. After all, it clearly wasn’t making them happy, so it may as well go to someone who would appreciate it, right?

Not that Kal kept any of it. Most of the coin he would plant in the pockets of those who looked like they needed it. Any leftovers he’d give to Ella and the other orphanage children.

Soon, Kal had arrived in the square he’d met Ella in the other day. It seemed as good a place as any to wait for her; if it got late enough, he could just sneak directly into the orphanage instead. He leaned against one of the shopfronts and began flipping one of the coins he’d nicked across his knuckles, back and forth. He thought he saw a flash of red down one of the side streets, but before he could investigate, a familiar, soot-stained girl waved eagerly at him. He was happy to see she was wearing the pin he’d given her.

His grin widened and he pushed off the wall to head towards Ella. Just as he reached her, however, an all-too-familiar voice shouted from behind him, “Ah-ha! There you are!”

Caspir’s – Kal’s – face blanched, and Ella gave him a curious look. “Kal, who’s that?”

“Nobody. Let’s go.” He grabbed Ella’s hand and began pulling her in the general direction of the orphanage, trying in vain to pretend he hadn’t heard his sister.

“Hold it right there!” Serafina rushed forward and grabbed onto his collar,. Kal let out a choked gasp, and Serafina wheezed out, “I finally… caught up to you!... No way I’m letting you go that easily!”

Reluctantly, Kal turned to face his sister. She was wearing a bright red, hooded cloak over a surprisingly simple dress. She still didn’t look like a commoner, but at least she was trying.

“Fine, fine. Hello, dear sister.”

Ella’s eyes nearly bugged out. Sister? She looked at the girl, who was clearly some kind of nobility, then over at Kal, and back to the the girl. The resemblance was undeniable.

A part of Ella was relieved this wasn’t some lover past or present come to accuse Kal of two-timing, but most of her was still in shock. This girl was rich. Kal was her brother. Ergo, Kal was rich. And rich men didn’t marry poor orphans like her.

She reached up and brushed the pin he’d given her, the one that meant so much to her, and wondered if it had actually meant anything to him. She wondered if any of this had meant anything.

Ella looked up at Kal. Was that even his name? “Was any of it real? Or was it all just a game to you?”

Shock and hurt crossed Kal’s face, and Ella fled.

Serafina watched the girl leave, and then caught Caspir’s expression. Well, s***, she thought.

Caspir sank to the ground, and stared less at the cobblestones and more through them into nothingness.

“Aren’t you going to go after her?” Serafina asked.

“What would be the point?” He tipped his head back. “I mean, what if she’s right? These kids, they scrimp and work and save just to get barely enough to eat, while me? Anything I could want at the snap of my fingers. 

“And I just couldn’t be happy with that, could I? So I come and pretend I’m one of them. When it’s convenient. I don’t have to live their life, Sera; I can leave whenever I feel like it.”

For a long moment Sera just stared at him. “We’ll get to that later. For now, where did she go?”

“If she didn’t head straight for the orphanage, she’s probably outside the bakery on 9th and Fairhaven. Why?”

“Stay here. Don’t move.” Serafina strode off a few steps, then realized she didn’t know where either of those streets were from here. “Which direction is that?”

Caspir pointed, and Serafina stalked off, the right way this time.

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