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A Perception of Light
by Ashley Rood
Third Place
The tower loomed up the side of Alspear Mountain. Dark clouds clung to its backside like a cape. The village at its feet was dingier than others populated with solemn peasants muddling from place to place in their daily routines.
Peasants were sworn to the king, and one of their king’s wizards had been given this county. The only two peasants who went anywhere near the tower were two brothers who somehow ended up in the wizards' employ.
“He’s our grandfather, why don’t you just tell them that?” Sam leaned back in his chair against the entrance to the tower.
We are not breaking any fourth walls in this story. Stay in your lane, Sam.
“Whatever,” Sam spit on the ground and stared out at the clouds, once again finally ignoring the narrator. Out amongst the fields in between the tower and the village his brother Arix strolled up the pathway. His usual bravado was all over his face as he reached Sam.
“You will never believe what the amorer is going to get in next week.” his eyes bright.
“Let me guess…”
“A dual action windlass crossbow with lighting capability.” His eyes widened into discs.
“Don’t you have three crossbows already?”
“Four. But this is a windlass. The distance alone...” Arix stared out towards nothing imagining fake battles with this new tool.
While the brothers Grimshaw were both the same dark hair, height, and humor, they couldn’t be the opposite in build, and personality. Arix was built for adventure and battle. He loved a challenge. While Sam was leaner and liked to sit and contemplate.
Sam drew in the dirt with a stick, “You better hope he’s got some errand soon, he’s never going to pay for that.”
And like the strange thing that is fate or perhaps destiny, a croaky voice called from inside. “Boys!”
The two brothers stood at attention and tried to get into the single-door frame at the same time. While one was cunning and one was strong neither were clever. As they rolled each other into the hallway, neither wanting to give an inch they ended up sprawled on the floor.
“What is that racket?” The wizard clanged down the stone steps to the foyer pounding his wizard staff on each step as to instill some lesson.
The wizard stood in the middle of the foyer with all the pomp and circumstance he sought desperately in the King’s court. His pointed hat detailed in silver stars and swirls caught the slim light trickling from the few windows.
His dark wizard robes gave the casual viewer an idea of where his allegiances align in moral and ethical decisions but not as dark as say a necromancer. However, it has been debated in the more northern territories of the possibility of good necromancers, but the philosophers at that time and of this time still cannot agree if this is a good idea. Most discussions within this realm were silenced after several philosophical students brought up the idea of ‘where does a necromancer start and a doctor end’ and none of the kings on the continent could stomach it anymore. But either way, necromancers don’t wear white.
Arix and Sam stood with their eyes affixed forward disassociating with whatever their grandfather started on with…something about a bird. Possibly a chicken. He needs an egg? Riddles, possible troll. Or roll. Bread is involved for sure.
“Oh, I hate riddles.” Arix kicked at the ground.
“The key is to get a blue egg, not any other color.” He fluffled through his long mustache. “It is imperative to the ritual, it must NOT be black.”
“But… it’s just an egg. We have several eggs in the kitchens.” Arix said with too much confidence for a twenty-year-old.
“And I have several grandchildren.” The dark wizard stared out sternly underneath his mammoth eyebrows.
Sam elbowed Arix, and muttered, “Crossbow dipwad.”
“Oh yeah, yes sir. Absolutely!”
“Blue!” the wizard puffed.
“I’ll pack right now!” Arix took the steps several at a time as Sam took the details from their grandfather.
“Remember the quest rules and take some fireproofing spells too boy.” The wizard turned and wafted down the hallway.
The fog was rolling out across the expanse in between the tower and the village. The sun was barely peaking over the foothills that circled east of the village.
“This is a good day for adventure brother.” Finishing his saddle on his chocolatey brown steed, Balthazar.
Balthazar was the most stern horse anyone had ever met. Arix had found him years ago at a traveling market. The horse trader swore he was one of the King’s old horses who was honorably discharged from the King’s Army but wanted to keep being a horse.
“How can a horse choose to want to stay a horse?” Arix looked perplexed at the horse trader.
The tradesman shrugged, “He had a decree in his saddle when he came to me and he can answer talk by clippy-clopping.”
Arix studied this tradesman and in hidden recesses, dark voices started whispering questions ‘Can a horse choose to be something other than a horse? Can a horse even be in the King’s Army to be able to be discharged? Is ‘Clippy-clopping’ a phase a professional horse trader would use as a term?....’.
Arix pushed those thoughts further back in his brain and made a deal that was an employment contract between himself and Balthazar for one year but has been extended yearly due to their comradery.
Sam’s horse was normal, well—at least for all the brothers knew.
Balthazar huffed. Arix patted his side and gave him a treat before mounting. As the brothers trotted down the lane, Sam pulled out the map. The three of them discussed pathways and all agreed Bathazar’s plan was the best, partly because the clipping, clopping, and gruff vocalizations came close to fighting words. They would take the main way as the two recommended shortcuts were either too close to dragons or thieves and they did not want to deal with either. Luckily, it was only about a day’s ride depending on speed and stops.
“What an eggcellent day!” Arix bellowed across the valley.
It was at this point the narrator saw the opening for the worst next 30 seconds of their life. Egg puns.
“Stop!” Sam smiled devishly, “You are cracking me up.”
“I’m pretty egg-cited about this trip.”
“Ha! We are going to have a shell of a time.”
“Well, you are an Egg-pert Eggs-plorer.”
“We need to stop…it’s getting egg-hausting.”
“You’ve got to be yoking!”
Balthazar stopped so fast that Arix was thrown off and in what can only be described as a horse doing an Irish jig explained his thoughts on puns.
“Okay okay okay,” Arix moaned. “We will stop.”
“I guess we should, don’t want Balthazar to eggexcute us.”
Balthazar whipped around and gave Sam a death stare that could shake mountains and the narrator had mutual feelings.
By mid-afternoon, they made their first stop before the ‘egg-stordinary heist’ began. Ugh. The town of New Inverness sat next to the Unending Sea. It wasn’t unending, but the name came from the settlers who first landed here. They had been promised by the salesman it was only a week or two and the sea was only a few times larger than their local lake. Unfortunately, the settlers were used to a much smaller lake, pondish really, so after weeks at sea and barely making it ashore, all agreed bitterly to call it the Unending Sea. Supposedly it had a name before but no one could remember it after weeks of hardtack.
The Tudor-esque buildings intermixed with stone homes snaked around the bay. As new settlers moved here, homes sprawled inland. Up on a hill in the distance were bright houses made of plaster. At various heights, they stood defiantly in comparison to the stone houses.
Through twisting streets and a few staircases, twice getting lost amongst the market district, going back up and down multiple staircases with Balthazar clearly mocking them. Finally, they arrived at the doors of their hotel. It was unlike any home in the very diverse square yet matched them all in individuality. Here lived the long line of hoteliers from one of the most prominent families of Old Sai Town which had massive golden doors. Marie was a distant cousin on their father’s side who now ran the place.
“Ah, Magda’s boys.” She purred in her lilted accent as the two entered. “It has been some time.”
Sam and Arix smiled giddily at her. She may be a cousin but she was a beautiful woman. “I’ve had Sam’s horse taken to the stable. Balthazar mentioned he had other accommodations, he will meet you tomorrow morning.”
The brothers shrugged and headed to their not well-appointed rooms. The family discount got them a spot in the attic rooms. Sam swung the window open out to the amazing sight of…a brick wall.
“Wow, all the stops,” Sam leaned out the window, “You can kind of see the city if you lean.”
Arix threw his bag onto the bottom bunk. He could lift his arm and touch his brother with how small the room was designed. “Do you want to head out? We should go by the shop before dinner.” With two steps he was out in the hallway followed quickly by his brother.
Back on the street, the two trod towards Tally Taiman’s Terrific Talismans and Other Sundries.
“You would think after committing they would have followed through or renamed it something else?” Sam stared at the giant glowing sign.
“Maybe they couldn’t think of any other T words?” Arix shrugged.
The outside of the shop had a multi-color hue beckoning passersby into the shop. The bay windows were adorned with tinsel, ribbons, and decor that caused a person to think of celebration, but beyond the wrap, there was very little content. This was a place of lots of knicks and very few knacks. Decorative pieces with the magical potency of a common potato. Upon entering a waft of incense avails the senses to think it is magical, ‘this place has the thing I need’.
But a not-very well-versed magical person who had at least read their first-grade Magic primer from Old Sai Town would know immediately, ‘This is a sham’. However, the realm of South Pudding’s education system here is terribly lacking.
Not kidding. The first King a thousand years before this moment allowed his two-year-old child to name the realm. Four hundred years later, his two descendants broke up the realm into two parts: North and South Pudding.
Normally the shop would be packed on an afternoon, but the sun must have drawn everyone out. Other than the tinging of crystals and various windchimes, the store was empty except for one staff member.
“Look who it is…The Grimshaw Brothers!” The short salesperson, Gregor, chirped. He hopped down from his stool and was much shorter. “Marie said you would be on your way. How is your mother?”
“Trompping through a forest last we heard,” Sam smirked. “Or wait, what was the postcard?” he waved at Arix.
“Oh, somewhere in the Lost Islands I think, some rare…it was a small postcard, and part of it was burned.” Arix looked a little hesitant to mention anything. He did not trust any of his cousins.
Gregor gurgled a little and blinked his eyes. It was clear he had too much Licor de Rana. The potent alcohol one could take only sips of due to the major side effect of fully turning into a frog. This one drink had led many a poor princess to get fooled and was one of the largest scams running in Western South Pudding by a massive family of magical toads. Minor side effects were bulging eyes, a pallor color, and an occasional ribbit.
Quest Rule 2: Avoid exotic liquors on quest unless needed for a ritual or cultural appropriateness.
From a very young age, the brothers had been drilled in the quest rules. Currently, there are 57 rules. The list was begun by their three-times grandmother, Matilda Grimshaw when she began questing in her youth. She was a great explorer and established their family's legacy with her exploits. The Grimshaw name amazed many and terrified a few.
Arix began looking through the tools and weaponry while Sam got to the point with Gregor. “I have a list, but a basic quest kit is also needed.” He handed the list to Gregor.
Gregor perused nodding as he went through the list. “Most of this is in the back.” He strolled to the front, locked the door, and flipped the ‘Closed’ sign towards the street. “It looks like you boys are up to a heist!” He smiled a little too large for his face.
“Heist, schmiest, it's a small-level quest. We just like to be prepared.” Sam crooned.
“Tools!” Arix exclaimed.
“What?” Gregor blinked.
The old salesman/frog shrugged and pushed his backdoor open followed by the brothers. With a click of a button, the walls shifted and were covered with clearly exceptional strong magical weapons, charms, and spells. “Funny enough, the talisman’s out front sell better than any of this nonsense, but I keep it for when our family members need to complete quests and other adventures. I do not plan to keep stocking after this summer unless Marie decides to take over. However, I think she’s pretty happy at the hotel.” he shifted bottles around, looking for the items on the list and placing them on the empty table in the middle of the room. “I will send you a note when I’m close to time if you are interested.”
Neither brother had thought heavily about their futures. Both had always lived in the present and only thought of future food or if on a quest, what was over the next hill. This had led to some hard-learned lessons on past quests longer than two-day journeys or Creature Contests. Apparently, planning is a good thing. However, both still relied on their grandfather to make the lists, and map, and remind them of the rules. Due to this, both brothers looked at Gregor and shrugged nonchalantly.
With their pack filled, the two headed back to the hotel for a quick dinner at the cafe that was squeezed in between the hotel and the next-door hotel. They sold these strange sausage dogs on bread with various toppings. This restaurant was well known to be cursed. The brothers traveled to this city about once a year and every time, there was a new place. Last year was a curry place, the year before chicken on a stick, the year before sandwiches, before that egg on a stick. Both had made bets that this year was going to be something various on a stick. They were equally disappointed as Sam bet it would be on a stick, and Arix bet the other way but loves food on sticks.
After a good night’s rest, the two headed out. Balthazar was already waiting for the two with his saddle and bags in perfect order. The city was slowly waking up as the two meandered out. The soft rolling hills ahead of them and the soft dawn spreading across the vibrant green. Birds sang in the sky and danced around trees, while rabbits and deer hopped in various places in the great, beautiful expanse. Only the soft organized patter of the horses gave a touch of discordancy in Mother Nature’s lovely creation.
They didn’t have too far to go. After several turns down various roads inward to the deep forests of the realm. This had been the original family lands before their great-grandfather made the biggest mistake in the realm and was stripped of everything. It took their mother and grandfather years to work back up in social standing to have even the far northern tower of the realm. It was by tower comparison also the smallest, but their mother Magda had hoped she could do more to regain their once great power. This is why she was away most of their lives on various searches and pursuits for rare objects and power. While Arix was slightly aspired to the same pathway; Sam seemed uninterested in any pathway. Many arguments with their grandfather ended up in Sam disappearing to one of the local villages for a few weeks before returning like a runaway cat who realized it had a home.
The large stone bridge appeared through the trees. As they got closer to the bridge, the trees began to recede, like they were also fearful of what was near the bridge. The bridge was the only way on or off of the island. A sharp ravine encircled the large parcel. Only a few protected creatures lived in the area, and only by permit and riddle could a traveler cross in for one hour. The floating island was protected by a lot, but most notably an ancient ward, which only allowed travelers one hour on the island, and they were not allowed to kill anything on the island. This is where people in a specific procurement field had to study in depth the laws, regulations, and policies to know how to find workarounds when obtaining specialty ingredients. While some items had comparable replacements, other items could only have the original.
Fun Fact: Matilda Grimshaw was the discoverer of a plant-based replacement for unicorn horn. While this led to the complete stop of unicorn hunting, another outcome was talking horses coming out of the woodwork claiming unicorn ancestry. People started questioning all horses’ origination which led to an overall horse-adjacent creature protection amendment. Many scientists believe there are many different types of magical horse skills but horses do not like talking so we may never know.
Both of the brothers dismounted carefully and grabbed small packs they slipped on themselves filled with their purchases and other supplies. As they walked towards the bridge, a massive gnarled hand reached up to the edge and pulled itself up. One cannot see the troll’s house from this position, but most trolls build their homes within the bridge if possible, or next to the bridge.
He was a few feet taller than Arix and Sam and a few feet broader. He pulled a stool out of nowhere and plopped it on the ground, sat with a thunk, crossed his legs, and pulled out a smoking pipe, slowly packing it. The brothers stopped a few feet away, while trolls in other continents are absolutely terrifying, most of the trolls in this realm were, dare say it, pastoral.
“What I can do for you boys?” He said in the thickest drawl either had heard in a while.
“We seek to pass,” Arix said.
“I’ll give you a twofer. As long as you get one right, you both go in, but the time allotment is the same for both once the first one passes the line boundary out there on the end of that bridge.
“Deal!” Sam smiled with too much faith. “Who goes first?”
“Whoever,” he toked on his pipe. Both boys nodded. “Why…,” he paused and a quick grin appeared and then disappeared, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sam’s face dropped.
“Not the answer.” He puffed.
“Who uses THAT as the great mysterious riddle to go into the sanctuary?” He yelled kicking dirt up to the side. “Why did the chicken cross the road? To go to the loser’s house. Knock, knock. Who’s there? The chicken.”
“Do I own the house or do you? Cause I didn’t get the answer wrong.” The troll’s mouth crept up on one side in a smile.
“You like to play with people.” Sam pointed at him while Arix held him back whispering words to calm him down.
The troll’s smile widened into a laugh. “Well, them’s the rules. You ready?” He nodded at Arix.
Arix let go of Sam with a slight push and warning look while straightening himself up.
The troll tilted his head thoughtfully, “I can copy different birds, yet, I'm no parrot. I’ve gotta sweet melody, yet I'm no canary. What am I?”
“Oh, he gets a real one.” Sam scoffed.
“You had your turn. Zip it.” the troll stared holes at Sam.
“A mockingbird,” Arix said assuredly.
“Correct, one hour after you cross the border. You have to be back over the bridge before the hour is up or in the ravine you go.” The troll gave them a yellow, well-worn, strangely built timer. “Click the ‘Go’ button’ and you can have your own countdown to death. Good luck.” He winked.
Arix clicked the button before he even stepped on the bridge. This was, of course, Rule 17: Make allowances on timed events and/or challenges. As they passed through to the other side, they immediately began a walk at an aerobic pace. Not a full-out run, so as not to tire in case they had to run back to the bridge. There were also monsters here. With the map, they knew they didn’t have to go too far. Several plants stared menacingly but overall they were successful as to reach the destination with time on their side.
They stared through a large bush across a small opening. In the middle of the clearing was a nest. Like a bird's nest but ten times the size. In it, sat several eggs all different shades.
“Remember, I’ll go for the eggs, you distract whatever lays those eggs,” Sam whispered.
“I think it’s a big bird. I think Grandad said something about a bird. I was hoping it was a snake, I’ve never fought a snake. It’s on my list.” Arix was prepping.
“Go.” Sam sprinted across the clearing to the eggs and stopped looking around. Nothing. No sound. He looked across and Arix stood on the other side of the bush also looking around and then right behind him a giant rooster's head popped out from the top of the bush like a strange alien from the body of a beast. Then it crowed, and while crowing towards the air a large stream of fire spurted out into the sky. “That’s why we needed the fire spells.” His eyes wide while his head tilted at this strange sight.
Arix bounded to the left trying to draw the roasting rooster in his direction. “Get the eeeeeeeeeeeggggggggggggg!” As he ran throwing splizter charms at the large bird. A splizter is A glorified sparkler that does very little damage other than a slight shock and a general fizzy feeling. One can take down a large squirrel.
There were several eggs, but they were all pink, and green, except for two which definitely looked black. “He said no black right?” He yelled.
Arix had run out of splizters and was now onto blasting bananas which did do more damage but couldn’t stop the flames which now had gotten as close as searing some of Arix’s hair. “Hold….” throws banana. “Hold one to your shirt!”
“Why?” Again, he was cunning, but not clever.
“You. ARE. WEARRIIING.” Tosses another banana and after excitedly finding a last spritzler, throws that as well, “YOU ARE WEARING BLACK. IT COULD BE NAVY.”
“Navy?”
Sigh. Dark blue.
“Hey! You said no breaking forth walls!” He pointed at the narrator.
“Daaaaaaaaaark blue is still bluuuueeeee.” Arix jumped over branches the fire had knocked down on the last pass-through.
Sam held both eggs to his shirt and then one egg against his sleeve in different positions to the sun.
“PICK AN EVERY LOVING EEEEEEGGGGGGGGGGG.” Arix flew past him, rooster on his heels.
The eggs looked very dark. One did look slightly less black and when held under a certain light could be dark blue. And Sam decided to go with that one. He wrapped the egg in cushioning and shoved it in his pack. “Let’s go!”
The brothers ran towards the bridge with Sam now tossing random entrapment charms while Arix was chugging a refresher elixir and keeping one eye on the road so as not to trip. They huffed down the pathway, in the distance they heard a ridiculously angry crow and flames erupting closer and closer. Leaves and twigs smashed under their feet as the bridge was in sight. Arix shoved the elixir bottle into his bag and pulled out the timer.
“Holy gremlins! We only have 2 minutes!” Arix screamed. The two leaned forward in their run as the land was flattening out to meet the bridge corridor. Charging through Arix pushed Sam in front of him as one last flame came hurtling at them. This one caught Arix’s pants on fire.
Once on the other side of the bridge, Arix rolled on the ground quickly yelling out curses in unknown languages the troll had never heard.
“Congratulations. You made it…’ He checked his watch, “With 15 seconds to spare. Of course, the angry chicken over there is thoroughly pissed.”
“That is no chicken, sir!” Sam’s eyes were wide with indignation. “That was an anathema.”
“I dunno, whichever god created him out there certainly likes him. Fire and talons…,” The troll looked appreciatively at the cockatrice pacing on the other side. “He’ll get over it. They lay thousands of eggs in their lifetime. Only one hatches every century. What a strange design. I guess better than hundreds of those running over the countryside.” He began laughing, coughing, and then laughing again imagining those angry fire-breathing roosters attacking small towns. He had completely forgotten the two brothers who were still trying to catch their breath.
Arix stared across the way at the massive chicken, rooster, whatever. “It’s pretty cool from over here.” His pants still slightly smoldering. “Well! Another one off the list brother!” He stood up and hugged his brother tightly. “We made it.” He let go and walked to his horse. “Farwell Mr. Bridgetroll. It’s been…something.”
Sam followed behind. He safely secured his pack and the prize away. “Time to head home.” They both decided neither wanted to stay in the city again. Traveling around the city was a bit more time, but by camping out and eating provisions they would arrive at the tower around the same time. Like most great adventures, the way back always seemed shorter, the sleep quicker, the snacks emptier.
The tower appeared in the distance. Dark and glooming as usual. Arix leaned back in his saddle. “I love adventures, but they always seem so short.”
“True. Maybe next time we can visit wherever Mom is. Wouldn’t that be a riot?” Sam chuckled.
“She’d murder us if we darkened her doorstep.”
“Then we have to do it.”
“Oh! Hopefully, I’ll have my windlass crossbow…” He whispered its name like a sacred relic.
They put up their horses when they arrived and brought the procured egg to their Grandfather. His laboratory was dingy yet colorful. With books on top of books on top of chests with candles everywhere. It was a circular room with a large cauldron in the middle and a large balcony that stared out onto the village below.
Grandfather was dozing behind his desk. His mustache blew in and out with his snores.
“We’re home!” Arix exclaimed.
“Oh my,” Grandfather stirred quickly, “That was…that was quite quick. What time is it?”
“It’s been three days!” Sam stared hard at his grandfather.
“Well,” Grandfather hurumped, “I had things. Yes, spell business, as you can see the cauldron is ready to proceed,” He stood and changed the subject. “Did you get it?”
“We did.” Sam pulled out the egg.
“What color is it?” Grandfather was almost blind. He squinted at the large egg. “It’s black.”
“It’s not black. Look, compare it to my shirt.”
“Yes, but your shirt is a greyish black, that could throw it off.”
The three of them then began comparing the egg to multiple colors around the room and concluded it must be very, very dark blue. Grandfather held the egg over the cauldron.
“What does this spell do anyway?” Sam asked thumbing through his Grandfather’s primary spellbook on the stand.
His grandfather harrumphed as he usually does when his thought process is disturbed. “It should give me immense powers.”
“More than you already have?” Arix raised an eyebrow. He was sitting on the edge of the desk with his arms crossed. His attention greatly focused on the swirling goo in the cauldron.
“It’s time things changed around here. Your mother is running herself into the ground for nothing. I’m taking charge. And with this, I’ll become the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen. No more of this two-bit secondary Magician work in a backwater.” Lightning struck outside out of nowhere. The wind picked up and Grandfather began loudly cackling.
With a loud crack, he smacked the egg on the side of the cauldron, like he was making brownies. But these would be brownies of world domination. The eggs gooey contents slowly seeped into the cauldron.
“And what would have happened if we had accidentally gotten a black egg.”
His grandfather was slightly puzzled as the goo batch became smoke that swirled only around him. “Well…it would bounce back, and I’d be…oh no…turned.”
The smoke swirled tightly around him to where neither brother could see him. It slowly shrank.
“Oh, it says it here. Huh, he really should have thought about that. We are horrible with colors.” Sam laughed.
Arix looked across the room at Sam. “So what does that mean?”
“Ha, he gets turned into some type of animal. Roll of the dice.” A smile spread over Sam’s face as the smoke cleared. Arix eyes lit up. The smoke cleared and there sat the gruffest orange and white bipedal feline on its back paws staring down at itself in clothing remnants. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Oh! I’ve always wanted a cat!”
Winning pieces are published as received.
Fiction Potluck
January 2025
Third Place Winner:
Ashley Rood
Ashley Rood is more of a daydreamer than a writer, but enjoys writing all types of stories. She lives with her husband and two spooky cats. She loves all things magical, collects hobbies, and enjoys finding new books to read.
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