Randy, Part III: A KPTL Story

Randy

Part III

A KPTL story

G.H. Goins 

“M’lord!” said the battle peep outside the throne room. “A kangaroo requests your presence! May she enter?”

“Granted!” MK the Eleventh called back. 

MK, otherwise known as Marshmallow King, the Eleventh, was bored. He was only 398-years-old and he was already a king! His father was 900-ish in his first year as king. MK’s first year as king was when he was only 394.  

The throne room was a mess. The jesters had had a water balloon fight, but instead of water, they filled the balloons with paint. It was a great idea in the moment and, when he was watching, MK was supremely amused. Afterward, however, it was awful. Paints - blue, green, and purple - were everywhere; the walls, the ceiling, and the floors. If you were new to Castle Plush, it would be beautiful. But MK knew what it looked like before the balloon fight.  

The walls: they were covered in rainbows and smiling clouds. They were so colorful, that they did not even need glow-wood. The ceiling:  it was a domed ceiling, with naked baby angels with bows and arrows painted on it. More rainbows covered it. Other stuff: directly underneath the center of the dome was a fountain. It had been stunning.

MK sighed and leaned his squishy, pink forehead on his closed fist. The long line of Marshmallow Kings all looked nearly exactly alike. They had all been pink marshmallows about one leg tall. Their bodies were cylinder-shaped with spindly little arms and legs. 

The massive wooden door of the throne room swung open, revealing a kangaroo under a cloak.

“My liege,” she began. Her voice was shaking in fear. “I believe you have my husband in the dungeon. I ask of you, O great ruler, to allow me to see my much missed hus-…ow… husband. My apologies, my lord. I am pregnant with my first and I believe it is kicking.” 

MK smiled at the humble soon-to-be mother in front of him. “Of course, you can. I encourage family members to visit my prisoners. Congratulations on the baby. You may leave.”

The kangaroo bowed and was about to leave the room, when MK asked, “One more thing, what was the crime that your husband committed?”

She paused, thought for a second and then smiled deeply, “I don’t actually know. That is why I’m here, to ask him what he did. Thank you, my lord.”

*

Jonathan was waiting in the dungeon of Castle Plush. 

Jon was a croc. He had been a private in the group known as the Revolutionaries. Jon was much respected among the jail. He was soon planning to break everyone out of the prison, at least everyone who wanted to be a part of the First Fist. The First Fist was growing larger every day. 

The First Fist was something that Jon had been developing for a time. It was going to be a second Revolutionaries, just with a new leader. Gary was a good leader, but not too strategic. Gary’s only advantage was his sheer strength. His followers were only with him because they feared him. Jon was going to lead the First Fist with justice. His men would actually respect him and fear him. Was that not what was required in a leader?

His thoughts were interrupted by a figure walking toward his cell. Jonathan was instantly up from where he had been sprawled out in the corner of his cell. The being had on a hood, so Jon could not actually see his eyes. Jon was about to say something, but the figure put up a hand, which was curled in a tight fist. There was something clutched in the fist, something bronze that glimmered faintly in the dim torch light. A few objects on a ring clanged as they came together, like wind chimes.

Keys!  

In an instant, Jon was standing at the door of the cell, ready to steal the keys in a moment’s notice. His hand shot out, about to grasp the keys, but stopped when the figure jerked back the fist and spoke.

“No!” the voice snapped, in whispering. It sounded like she was a woman. “I am here to negotiate a deal with you… Jon.”

Jonathan was shocked. He knew that voice! And it obviously knew him. Recognition flooded his mind along with dozens of memories; brutal battles and bloody attacks. It was Ruth! It had to have been.

“Ruth!”  He rasped, “How could you ever show your face around me? You traitor!”

Ruth was apparently disappointed. “I am here to break you out… and to apologize. We were friends, you and I, and I need you. My son has been captured… by Gary.”

Jon gasped. Gary! He was alive!

“If I let you out, will you help me get my son back? I understand that’s a lot to ask, but you will have your freedom back.”

Jon was considered this for a moment. This was the chance he’d been waiting for, right? A chance to escape. Although, was it worth slaying his former leader? He could always double-cross Ruth. But it was true. They had been friends. Good ones, too. Jon did want to be the new leader for the Revolutionaries, the First Fist. This was it, the big moment. He mustered up his response.

“Alright, Ruth. I have been planning something like this. So, I have been gathering a small band of prisoners that will follow me. We’ll have some help.” 

“Great,” she said, inserting one of the keys into the lock. “One more thing before I do this. We need to shake over this deal. If you betray me, I will not hesitate to do what is necessary to save my son. Even if it means killing you.”

Ruth put her hand through the bars. Jon didn’t hesitate. He grasped her small hand with both of his and shook it vigorously. 

*

Simm was nervous with anxiety. His ears were twitching. He was stationed at the front gate of the of the Castle Plush, just out of eyesight of the patrolling peeps. The battle peeps kept walking back and forth along the wall, uninterested in what they were supposed to be doing.  

*

Ruth and Jon hurried. They were going cell to cell, letting the creatures out. So far, they had no plan. In fact, they didn’t even know where to go to get out of the castle. They all knew that they would have to fight their way out of this one.  

The first two unsuspecting peeps were down in a flash; Ruth kicked one so hard, that the first marshmallow bird hardly let out a grunt, before falling to the ground. The other peep took an arrow to the heart, which was conveniently placed in the side of the bird, below the wing. They found the bow and arrows set in a chest filled to the brim with weapons, so much so, that the lid had trouble closing. Everyone got a weapon of his or her choice.  

After tip-toeing-it to the top of the stairs, the company came to a dimly lit corridor.  

Ruth said, turning to Jon, who was behind her, “Left. For some reason, MK always placed the exits on the left.”

Jon didn’t argue.  

They encountered a group of ten patrolling battle peeps. They all knew the danger. If even one of the battle peeps escaped, the whole escape would crash down around them.

So, with a battle cry, the horde clashed with the peeps.

The sounds of battle echoed through the chamber. Steel on steel, the cries of wounded warriors. Sugar from the battle peeps began flying everywhere, as two attempted to fly off. They both soon fell, arrows protruding from their sides.

Ruth’s choice of a weapon was the bow and arrows. She and a couple of others stood in the rear of the battle and picked off some of the enemies. When the clamor of battle was almost done, one peep escaped detection and took flight. Ruth drew an arrow and was about to let it fly, when the peep flew just out of arrow-shot. It landed on a platform roughly eighty-legs above.  

When its spindly legs hit the floor of the platform, the peep took up a war horn and blew with all of its might.  

The whole castle now knew of their presence. 

Jon muttered a colorful word that I will not repeat and ordered the First Fist to stand up and fight.  

Thus began the Battle of Plush.

The first regiment that came their way were numbered about twenty-five. It would not have been too difficult, if it wasn’t for the fact that peeps could fly.  

They flew in and began dropping bowling balls on them. Ruth picked off a few and ran, as did everyone else.  

They came across fifteen grounded peeps that stopped in their way. Ruth realized that this was the peep’s last attempt, for she could see the exit not fifty-legs ahead. All of the escaped prisoners numbered about thirty-five, so the odds were not terrible. However, she did not wish to have to fight her way out of the castle.  

The rag-tag army was about to charge, when the exit door swung open with a crash as it slammed against the wall, revealing the husband of Ruth.  

“Simm!” she yelled, hope suddenly returning to the desperate situation, “Help us!”

Simm flashed a quick grin and nodded. 

All of the peep’s eyes were on Simm. Ruth took that small window of time to charge the grounded battle peeps, taking them on from behind. The first line fell easily enough and Ruth, with a sword now, began fighting on the second line.  

Simm, with no weapon but his feet, began fighting in the rear of the peep’s mini legion. The two kangaroos were getting closer and closer to each other, as more and more troops were falling in their wake. The rest of the prisoners were watching in awe of the two warriors, who were working there way continually closer together, as though they were being drawn to each other by magnets.

When the battle peeps were cleared, the company rushed the exit, forcing the air-borne troops to ground themselves. Once they made it into the courtyard, Ruth, Simm, and the First Fist all prepared to fight the twenty-five oncoming peeps. Ruth and the other three archers stood ready, their bows drawn. The closed side-door opened and the peeps tumbled out. The archers loosed their arrows and four of the peeps fell, without hesitation. They quickly drew again. The peeps poured out like a flood. One after the other. Soon, the number in the courtyard was too great to kill with just arrows, so the rest of the prisoners decided to attack.

Reinforcements must have been coming from the bowels of the great castle, because the peeps just kept coming. No matter how many peeps Ruth shot, another would come into its place. Simm had decided that they were just going to have to make a run for it, even though that would give the peeps a chance to follow in the air. But, if they could just make it to the first line of trees, they’d be safe.  

Simm relayed this information to his wife, who quickly relayed to Jon, who relayed it to the First Fist.  

Simm began to count down, “five…!” The fighting immediately began to lessen.

At the sounding of the number one, the First Fist stampeded to the wooden door of the gate and started hitting it with their weapons, but the door held fast. “We’re trapped!” someone screamed. Simm walked over, panting from the sprint, and asked everyone to clear out of the way. He stepped up to the great door, took a deep breath, and fell backwards on his tail. He used his long tail to push himself up and to kick with all of the momentum of a raging elephant, against the massive gate to freedom. The loud sound of a ferocious bass drum sounded along with the sound of splintering wood.  

There was a large gaping hole where a door used to be. The First Fist cheered and tramped through the hole, running, jumping, and yelling.  

They were free!

*

Randy awoke with a start. He was in a new cell, one without his traitor of a mother. Had she hit him? His head still hurt and he was exhausted. Randy sat up on the cot and looked around. He was in a metal-barred cell. But here’s the strange part. The cell was in the middle of a jungle. It was then that he realized where he was.

The Jungle Norm.

This jungle was notorious for having the most deaths recorded of any other wooded landmark in Miza. It was dangerous. More dangerous than even the Expo Mountain range, which was known for the great, white, furry beast, known as the Naple.

In Jungle Norm, there was a beast. A beast resembling a giant lizard with long claws, sharp teeth, and a tail with retractable spikes as sharp as knives, which can be shot at the same speed as an arrow: the great Fire Wyrm. 

That is why Randy was trembling with such fright as he was at this moment. He saw it. The Fire Wyrm. It was everything he had heard about and more. It was a nightmare. The eyes of the Wyrm locked with Randy’s. They were a sickening yellow, with vertical slits for pupils. The beast scrambled closer to the cage, hungrily. It opened its mouth and fire shot forth, consuming the cage. Randy had his eyes shut when he felt the fire. Well… he didn’t actually feel the fire. He merely felt its heat.  

When he opened his eyes, Randy could see that there was a thick wall of glass surrounding the cage, protecting him from the flames’ clutches. The glass was so clear, Randy couldn’t even make out his own reflection. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. Too soon. The spikes on the Wyrm's tail shot straight up and the tail was pointed in the direction of Randy’s glass box of a cage. One of the spikes shot off the tail and was stopped by the barrier of glass. Randy’s breath caught in his throat. The area of glass that was impaled by the protruding spike was still.  

And then it wasn’t.

A clear line shot across the surface of the glass with a loud, hollow sounding, crack! More cracks shot out, like a quickly forming spider’s web. Randy let out a shriek that resounded in the cell and into his ears, as he was almost completely exposed to the Fire Wyrm.  

Randy lurched and fell to the floor, as the cage suddenly jerked downward. Immediately, the cage began to lower beneath ground level, as rock scraping on rock sounded all around Randy. He realized that the cage he was in now was the same cell he had always been in, just raised up above the earth. Randy could still hear the shrieks from the raging dragon in the Jungle Norm.  

The kennel hit the floor with a stop that made Randy hit the floor once again. A door slid close in the ceiling, as the light from the sun was cut off. On the far side of the room, Gary walked through and closed a door. His hooves clopped as he walked over to Randy’s cell. He was wearing the same smile he always put on in the presence of Randy.  

“Magnificent,” Gary said, chuckling. “Truly magnificent. I was laughing the whole time. Your face! One of the best reactions to the Wyrm I’ve seen yet. Good show!”

“You are a monster.” Randy replied, through gritted teeth.

He agreed. “Why, yes. Yes, I am. I also saved your life. I could have taken it right then and there, but I didn’t. Do you know how much that beast loves the smell of burnt flesh? That’s actually the reason he is so aggressive.”

“Have you ever exposed my mother to it?” Randy asked, quietly. 

“I don’t believe I have… why?”

“If you’re trying so hard to hurt her, why aren’t you trying to hurt her physically?”

Gary paused and said, “Hurting someone physically is much easier, but in some cases, it’s ineffective. Hurting one’s heart is the best way to really get to… anyone. However, she is stronger than most, so I have to use something stronger than words. I have to use those who are closest to her heart.”

“You are going to kill me then because I am the one that is closest to her heart.”

Gary whistled, impressed. “You are a smart boy. Smarter than I first thought. I might have you killed later but not yet. I am not yet finished with you.” He paused. “How are you liking your mother? Is it as sweet as you had always imagined it would be? I hope you are grateful you get to spend your last days with her.”  

“She hit me,” said Randy, flatly.  

“She did?” Gary asked, appearing surprised.

“Yes.”

He snorted. “And you think I care?”

“Put her in the cage.”

Gary stood there, trying to appear abashed but he was obviously hiding amusement. “Why?”

“I think you know.”  Randy said, determined, but quickly added, “Just don’t hurt her.”

Gary smiled, “I wouldn’t think of it.” 

The plan was moving right along.

*

The company made it to the Jungle Norm the day after their escape from Castle Plush. They had made extraordinarily great time. The ride, for they had stolen horses from a nearby stable, had been amazing. There was not a single cloud in the sky that day. The birds were out singing their songs.  

However, when they arrived at the first line of trees, everything grew eerie. And silent. Nobody wanted to speak. No birds were singing and when they came to the still forest it began to storm. Thunder was booming in the sky and rain was pouring onto the leaves, creating a soothing sound that made up for the eerie silence of the jungle. It was nice until the rain started pouring on them.  

Simm was growing impatient and rather grumpy. He rode up to where he was beside Ruth and asked, “Is it much longer? I don’t think that everyone will be able to keep going if it’s too much more of this weather.”  

Ruth nodded her head in agreement. “There’s a cave up ahead where the Fire Wyrm used to roost. We can rest there and then keep going.”

“Alright, but… the Fire Wyrm… is it still there?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

She didn’t hesitate before saying, “Because we’re not dead yet.”

How comforting, he thought. “Is that what you're basing our survival on? Maybe that’s not the best idea. I’ll talk to Jon.”

Simm slowed his horse, so that he could talk to the crocodile.  “So… there seems to be a… sort of… dragon’s den up ahead. My wife thinks it’s dead, but I’m not sure we should risk it. Are you willing to?”

Jon considered this for a few moments, then replied, “We could just stay there to wait out the storm…right? I mean, how bad could it be?”

“Alright. I’ll go tell Ruth.”

Simm spurred his horse forward. “Ruth?  Uh… he said to just wait out the rain in the den.”

Ruth nodded and grinned. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” 

Simm seemed to be offended. “No! Why would I be afraid of a dragon? Ha! You think I’m afraid? Don’t make me laugh...! Okay, I guess I am a little concerned. I mean, it’s a Fire Wyrm! How could anyone not take extra precautions? It breathes fire, for goodness’ sake!”

Ruth took advantage of this vulnerable moment, “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. You have nothing to worry about, for I will protect you,” she said, teasing him. Ruth suppressed some giggles while Simm shook his head, grumpily. 

A half hour later, they encountered a large, outcropping cleft. The cavern reeked of decaying flesh. As Simm soon discovered, it wasn’t actually a cave. It was more of an overhanging ledge of shale. Simm stared up at the ceiling of the fragile rock, as if a ghost were to float right through it.

Ruth looked at him and laughed. “You’re a baby!”

Simm looked at her and shook his head. “I’ve a bad feeling about this, Ruth. It just doesn’t feel right. I mean, do you smell that? It’s putrid! And it’s fresh. You know what that means? The Fire Wyrm is probably out on the hunt which means he could come back at any moment!”

“I smell it but I’m not scared. It would have attacked us already. It’s not a strategist, Simm.”

Jon chimed in. “I was just talking to the army and they agree with Ruth. It’s not here, Simm. I know this beast. Gary would use it to torture his prisoners. If it’s not here, it’ll be busy for a while.”

Simm and Ruth exchanged terrified glances.  

Randy.

For a split second they read each other’s thoughts. We have your son. If you come, alone, unarmed, I will let him go, in return your life. You have four days before I kill him. I have a feeling you know where to find him. Gary.   

It had been four days since Ruth had received the message.  

*

Cynthia awoke in the glass box, the muffled sound of rolling thunder overhead. Rain pattered on the glass roof of the cage.

She had known that Gary was using her, but surely, he wasn’t going to kill her. She was supposed to play the part of Randy’s mother. She had thought that she was doing a good job. He must’ve gotten tired of her. 

Or maybe this was his plan. To kill the kid’s mother in front of him.  

This wasn’t right. Randy didn’t deserve this! 

A sudden desire, strong and consuming, took the reins of her mind. She had to tell Randy the truth. Cynthia saw the two of them standing on the wall of the fortress, thirty legs away. She walked up to the bars of the cage, facing them. Watching them. She had to get Randy’s attention.

She felt the surface of the cool glass and began to hit it with her balled-up fists, only to find that it was too thick. 

Cynthia had to find a way to tell Randy that she was not his mother!

Then she saw it.  

The Fire Wyrm. 

It was standing about a hundred legs away, perched on a craggy rock. Its yellow eyes stared into her violet eyes. Cynthia felt tears swelling up in them. She began to scream. Her voice was loud in the box, hurting her ears. It must have been sound proof because Randy was expressionless. Cynthia would not be able to tell him. She was going to die. For Gary! For his revenge. That poor mother.  

As the tears swam before her eyes, she had an idea. She got it! She knew how to tell Randy.

*

Gary and Randy stood watching on the vine-covered wall.

Randy was watching the expression of horror on his mother’s face. Randy looked around for the Fire Wyrm and saw it looking straight at Ruth, in the cage. He looked into her eyes and froze. She was putting her fingers into her eyes. She took something out of one. Then the other. Randy looked at her eyes to see if she had hurt them and then stopped. Her eyes.

They were brown. Brown!

She had been wearing contacts! That poor woman was not his mother. She was a tool of Gary’s! It was a trick!

*

Gary noticed when Cynthia took off the contacts. He was furious. Gary decided then to kill her, since she had betrayed him.  

Gary was about to command the Wyrm to attack when he felt the eyes of Randy upon him. Gary turned to face Randy in time to see two feet land in his face. Stars enveloped his gaze as he fell to the stony floor.  

Rage overtook Gary, as he scrambled to find his club. His hands clutched it and he was about to pummel Randy in the stomach when Randy rushed his rear and gave a good kick to the back of Gary’s head. Darkness engulfed his vision and everything was black.

*

After Gary was unconscious, Randy climbed over the side of the wall. When his feet hit the ground, he bent his knees to keep from breaking his legs and then fell into a roll. When he was on his feet again, Randy hurried swiftly to the cage.  

He found a rock and hurled it at the glass. It bounced off the invisible barrier and hit the ground. It was too thick. The Fire Wyrm was slithering closer, spitting his tongue out and back in, repeating that a few times before advancing ever closer. 

A panic consumed Randy’s already clouded mind.  

Cynthia was trembling with fear.  

When the Wyrm was in range to engulf the box in fire, he did so. Randy dove to the side opposite of the flames. Cynthia screamed. Randy found a wooden branch and began to bang on the glass. It soon became clear that that was no good. He was quickly running out of options.  

The Wyrm scrambled so that he could see Randy. He shot one of his metal-like spikes at Randy. It sped past his face, the wind of it brushing his hair. That was too close, he thought. There had to be a way to break the glass.  

Randy had to try one last attempt to try to save Cynthia.  

He stepped up to the great wall of glass, took a deep breath, and fell backward on his tail. He used his long tail to push himself up and to kick with all of the momentum of a raging elephant, against the massive, invisible barrier. The sound of shattering glass melded with a woman’s scream and a dragon’s infuriated shriek filled the humid, jungle air.  

Randy stepped aside as another spike flew past his middle. He ducked, picked up the spike, and jammed it into the lock of the cage. Randy desperately twisted it around inside the small key hole, when the Wyrm came up on his flank. Fire shot from his jaws. Randy ducked, grasping a massive piece of the thick glass and shoving it in front of him, using it as a shield against the flames. The glass grew hot as the fire consumed it. Randy began to walk forward against the powerful, scorching flames. It felt as though water from a hose was resisting his advance. When he came to the door of the cell, Randy picked up the rock he had flung at the glass and hammered the spike that jutted out. The Wyrm continued to blow fire. After the third hit, the locked made a clicking noise. Randy dropped the rock and yanked on the lock. It came free! He swung the door open, revealing the horrified face of poor Cynthia.

Soon enough, the Fire Wyrm ran out of fire. Randy took advantage of that pause to take the spike and to hurry toward it. Before the Wyrm knew what was happening, Randy slid between his legs and stabbed the exposed belly of the Wyrm, green blood oozing immediately from the fatal wound. 

An ear-piercing screech filled the air. Randy had to scramble out of the way of the falling beast. The Fire Wyrm fell on its side, dead. The beast was no more.  

Randy took a deep breath and Cynthia embraced him.  

“I am so sorry,” She rasped, still out of breath, “If I were ever to have a son, I would want someone like you.”

Randy was about to say something of equal sincerity, when an arrow struck the ground next to them. The wall of the fortress was lined with a dozen archers. A dozen arrows were being drawn back on their strings. Gary was roaring in fury. “FIRE!”

“Run!” Randy yelled. They quickly hid behind a couple of separate trees. The ground where they were just standing was already abundant with protruding arrows.  

After the first volley of arrow Randy and Cynthia took the small window of time, sprinting over a hill, only to find a company of another bunch of different animals.  

“Run the other way, Cynthia!”  

“NO!  Don’t!” yelled a voice that Randy never thought he would ever hear again.  

“Mr. Simm? Is that you?” Randy asked in disbelief. The gym teacher stepped so that Randy could get a good look at him.  

“I can’t believe it,” Randy said to no one in particular, his eyes wide. “Are…are you my - my father?” Randy’s eyes erupted in tears. Simm ran to him and took his son into his arms, tears streaming down his face. Ruth stepped from behind one of the troops, smiling with uncontrollable joy, tears in her violet eyes. She felt misplaced, but she was still happy for her two family members.  

Once out of his father’s arms, Randy gazed at Ruth. He asked Simm, “Is that my Mother?” Simm wiped his eyes and, while smiling, he nodded. Randy took a deep breath and started towards Ruth. She saw something in the eyes of her son that scared her. It was a fire. Was he angry with her? He sure did have a reason to be. When he got within arms-length of Ruth and stopped, Randy looked into her eyes. Tears were welling in them once more.

“Momma?” He asked, uncertainly. 

Ruth nodded.

Randy ran into her arms, a fresh wave of tears running down his furry cheeks. Ruth wept. Simm wept. Randy wept. He was home.

He was with his family.

Randy had a family.

Jon intruded on the happy reunion, clearly unsure whether he should or not, “Uh… Simm? I think it’s time to make the attack.”

Simm looked up to see a mini army exiting through the gate, Gary at the head. They numbered about a hundred-and-fifty. Simm gasped, but not because of the number of enemies, but because of the creature that Gary was mounted upon. The Fire Wyrm. It wasn’t the same Wyrm; this one was much bigger.  It must’ve been the parent of the one Randy had slain.  

“Hey! I killed that!” Randy exclaimed.

“Not that one, son.” Simm responded.  

Jon asked, “Do you think they’ve seen us yet?”  

Ruth joined, “If they haven’t, they’re about to. Fire Wyrms have excellent smell.”

Jon took command and shouted to his troops, “Mount, men. This will be the last day of the Revolutionaries and the day that the First Fist will take its place in history. I’m no battle speech writer, but I do know this. When I first started upon the idea of the First Fist, I was out to dethrone the King who imprisoned me for the past ten years of my life.  Now I just want justice done to that brute, who imprisoned that poor kangaroo child. This doesn’t mean that we won’t have to fight the King’s men. But, today, let us fight for justice!”

The roar of the thirty soldiers reigned through the jungle, alerting the ox.

*

Gary sat mounted on the Fire Wyrm surveying the scene that lay before him. A dull headache throbbed in the back of his skull. That child had just slayed a dragon. A Dragon! Not only that, but he’d escaped. That was the reason that they were all out there in the Jungle, searching for the little urchin. 

When he was about to launch the search, Gary heard a sort of ruckus, just over a little hump in the land, about seventy-five legs ahead. The Wyrm cocked his head, tasting the air with his reptilian tongue. Gary turned in his saddle to look at the sentry, who stood in a tower that was connected to the wall. The sentry’s jaw was dropped. What could be happening?

Then he knew.

“Defensive formations!”

The soldiers hurried to get into their positions. Thirty horses crested a hill, without their mounts. They were stampeding but they weren’t frightened by anything ahead. It was as if they were charging the Revolutionaries. 

The gap between the two hordes was closing fast. 

The stampeding stallions were about to clash with the skittish soldiers.  

Thirty men followed the thirty horses, all with weapons, shouting and hollering. A crocodile with a battle axe screamed, “CHARGE!”  

Gary didn’t understand it. They were all about to die, to rescue one little kangaroo. Then he did understand. 

Ruth.  

*

Ruth stood on the left flank of Gary’s army with five other archers. Another five archers were on the right flank. This was the only way that they could possibly defeat such impossible odds. They were intending to crush them with their backs against a wall.  

Just before the horses collided with the first ranks, Ruth signaled for the archers to release the drawn arrows. It was about three seconds before the arrows hit and the horses’ collision. And in those three seconds, something horrible happened.

The Wyrm blew fire along the ground, so that the horses would get spooked and run the opposite direction. The arrows found their marks, however. Eleven soldiers dropped. The charging horses had no choice but to run through the flames. Some jumped the flames, while others decided to take the odds of running through them. Gary had not been expecting this turn of events.  

The Wyrm flung spikes at the rampaging stallions and three of them fell, blaring their pain and agony. It was an awful sound. When the horses made contact with the soldiers, there was more pain and agony, for the horses trampled over the waiting soldiers.  

One horse kicked the Wyrm with its hind legs and the Wyrm screeched and pounced on the horse. It got a hold of the horse’s throat with his jaws of steel and the Wyrm jerked its head back, breaking the horse’s neck. The horse fell silent and motionless.  

More tragedies like these kept happening to the horses, until they decided to make a run for it. They safely escaped, numbering nineteen free horses.   

The fire wasn’t yet extinguished and the First Fist charged the Revolutionaries. Fear and terror struck the Revolutionaries as the First Fist charged through the flames. The loud clamor of clanging steel and screams of pain filled the hot jungle air.  

For forty-five minutes, the battle raged. The First Fist were fighting hard but Simm knew it would not be enough. They were failing. It would not be long before they would be forced to surrender. He ran toward Ruth’s station.  

“You and your archers are going to have to charge their flanks. We can’t risk having any of our arrows killing our men.”

She nodded in agreement. Randy was standing behind her, for safety precautions. Simm turned to him. “I’ve a job for you. I need you to give that same message to the other archers. Can you do that, son? I need you.”

Randy was uncertain but agreed anyway. He was feeling useless, so this was good for him. Ruth, Simm, and the five archers charged their way into the battle. Randy decided the best way to do this was to run outside of the battle, instead of through it. He began to pick his way along the tree line, to not draw attention to himself. Randy was almost there, when he encountered an enemy bear. The bear’s armor was thick and it was much too large to overpower by force. The bear was on all fours, so when it stood, Randy almost fell over, just by looking up at it.

It roared ferociously. Randy fell on his back, his elbows supporting him. He reached behind himself for something, anything that he could use to defend himself. Finding nothing, he jumped back on his arms and kicked the bear in the belly. This was a move he had used many times wrestling. It was Simm who showed him the technique. He kicked the grizzly so hard, that the he fell on his back, gasping for air. Randy found a rock and knocked the bear unconscious, chucking the rock at his forehead. 

Randy was able to make it to the archers without any further interruptions. He delivered the news and then fled. This emotion came over him strongly and he couldn’t ignore it. He was aware that he was being a coward but he didn’t care. Whether it was fear that drove him or simple survival instinct, he didn’t know. It was all too much for him. The screams, the blood, the constant fear for his life. All of the stress and fear he had bottled up since being kidnapped suddenly exploded. He had to get away from the battle. He had to get away from Gary. 

He came to a tree with low enough branches to climb, swinging up into it. Once at the top, Randy could see everything.  

He watched the battle in awe of his newly found parents. They were kicking butt, quite literally. Simm wasn’t even using a weapon; his feet and his tail made up for his lack of a blade. Ruth was wielding her sword mightily, also hurling throwing knives when the need arose.

At one point, Simm was having trouble with a massive duck. The duck had him pinned to the ground and was about to finish Simm, holding a dagger to his throat, when Ruth saw. She immiediatly threw a knife into the duck’s back. Randy was now wishing that he could be fighting with his parents, but knew that he wouldn’t actually want to. His insides turned at the thought. 

When he looked at the fighting, Randy saw that something was missing. He didn’t know what it was until the tree he was in began to shake violently. Randy looked down to find the source of the shaking and stood immobilized. The Fire Wyrm, with Gary on its back, was trying to cut down the tree he was in. Randy tried to cry out for help but his voice caught in his throat, as he found himself frozen with fear. The Wyrm gave up trying to cut the tree and instead decided to burn it with his fire. The Wyrm blew fire all over the base of the tree. Randy screamed. His mind was clouded with panic, as he tried to think what the best thing to do would be.  

He saw a vine that was hanging vertically three legs away. That was Randy’s only option. With a shout, he leapt for the vine and grunted when the vine burnt his hands, as he slid down it. When he came to a stop, he maneuvered his body so that he could swing back and forth to jump for the next tree. Fire had already engulfed where he was last standing. He could feel the heat, a mere two legs from his back. He swung and felt the lick of a flame. It was only a matter of time before Randy would be engulfed in the flames himself. The Fire Wyrm gazed at him, hunger in his eyes. Fire leapt from his mouth at once. Randy was looking desperately around for a spot he could land on. He swung hard. Back and forth, back and forth. He saw the place where he wanted to land; a branch hung a few legs before him. If he swung hard enough, he could make it. As his feet swung out, Randy let go of the vine. 

He missed the branch.

He was falling.

Weightless.

Screaming.  

Air shot passed him as he fell. Time seemed to slow down for him. Just before it passed him by, Randy glimpsed another hanging vine. Without thinking, he grasped it tightly. It burned his hands, as he stopped falling. Randy’s hands clutched that vine for all they were worth, with him hanging there, swinging back and forth gently. He pulled on his arms so that he could climb on to the branch he was making for. Randy pushed himself upon it and swung both of his legs around it. As soon as he was situated on it, he realized that it was dead. 

The vine snapped.  

Randy hit the ground with as much force gravity can give and felt the air leave his lungs. All was black. 

When he awoke, Randy was in the arms of Gary. It was the ox’s smell, not his words, that woke Randy. Gary gripped his long ears and began lifting him up. Randy cried out in pain. Everyone could see him. He felt a knife being held up against his back, the cold blade making him shiver. Randy felt the Wyrm moving beneath him. 

“Here he is!” Gary shouted, “The boy everyone is dying for.”

Silence befell the First Fist. Their weapons were on the ground.  

Gary continued, “I want you to take a good long look at your murderer. He is the one who is killing you. You fools! You ignorant, blind fools! How could you ever think that you’d be enough to defeat the Revolutionaries? For this!” He shouted, pointing at Randy.  

As he continued his victory speech, a lone figure climbed a tree, a bow in its grip.  

“The King will die, you will lose, and I will reign.”

A screech sounded and the crowd of warriors gasped. A long, black, metal arrow protruded from the flank of the Fire Wyrm. Then a second arrow embedded itself in the Wyrm’s calf. Green blood spewed from the wounds, covering the surrounding ground.  

Randy felt himself drop from the hands of the great ox, as a throwing knife was impaled in Gary’s back. He heard Gary gasping for air, as he was unable to breath. Randy hit the ground and scrambled out of the way so the neither the Fire Wyrm nor the ox fell on top of him. 

Gary died. 

The First Fist struck. 

They chased the fleeing Revolutionaries deep into the jungle. The Revolutionaries, with Gary and the Wyrm gone, had lost all hope. They no longer saw a need to fight, so the simply fled. Many of the Revolutionaries surrendered, asking if they could follow Jon the croc and be a part of the First Fist. 

They had won the day.  

The lone figure had been Cynthia. She had fled the battle in an attempt to outrun Gary. But, something stopped her. Something pulled her back to that battle. Randy had touched her heart that day. He saved her. For no reason whatsoever, Randy saved her life. He risked his life so that she could live. So she did the same for him. Cynthia had left without even saying good-bye to anyone. She was a hero. No one even knew it was her who killed the Fire Wyrm. Ruth was responsible for the death of Gary, being the one who threw the knife.

Randy, Simm, and Ruth said bye to Jon and the First Fist and went home. Home. They had found it! 

A home.  

This story was not intended to be about blood or hatred. It was about love. The love of a family. The unfailing power of love. The love that binds us. Family is a union, like the ring that binds a husband and wife. Family is a circle. And that circle is almost impossible to break.   

The saying goes, home is where the heart is. That may be true, but home is where family is. Randy, Simm, and Ruth went home.

The end.