Fairy Tale Conclusion

Little Stinker In A Magic Realm:

A Fairy Tale

By Vellumcore

Conclusion

Arriving back in town, they approached the ornate-hinged doors of the Keep.

"Ah,"

"good,"

"Duke,"

"Altoon,"

"it,"

"is,"

"good,"

"to,"

"see,"

"you."

"Indeed, fine guards of the Equerian, it is good to be back," Altoon greeted them. "Come, follow us inside. We will need your help."

"Yes,"

"Sir."

Inside the grand throne room, they found Princess Eleen talking with Wizard Jackoby. When she turned to see the commotion of their entrance, she stared a moment in disbelief. She brought the back of her hand to her mouth, her kerchief hanging down from its attachment to her middle finger, and she let out a cry of joy. "Oh, my dear Altoon, is it really you?" Effused with the soothing tone of her soft voice, all were calmed to good effect.

"My lady, step away from that cretin, Jackoby. For it is he who absconded away with me," shouted Altoon.

"What is this madness?" said Wizard Jackoby, feigning incredulity, though shocked to actually see the insignificant little weasel of a man, Duke Altoon, enter into the room. How, he thought. How can this be? Then he eyed Mikey Gillam and Drago hovering by his side. They angered him greatly. But it was seeing the raven which angered him most. Confounded Mage!

"What?" cried Princess Eleen. "Wizard Jackoby you say? This cannot be... not our beloved Wizard."

"I tell you no lie, my Lady. Your beloved Wizard has lost his marbles." That choice of word tickled Mikey. "There is great mischief born of his intent," continued Duke Altoon, "and he's filled with insidious schemes, the particulars of which I know not." He pointed an accusatory finger at Wizard Jackoby. "Guards, seize him!"

The guards took up positions at the Wizard's sides, grabbing him firmly by the arms. In this current form, and without the accoutrement of his red leather suit, the wizard was easy to control. A Mage can be quite powerful, but only from afar, and with time to chant his incantations. Such frailty... pitiful, indeed, thought the man between the guards.

"My lady," Wizard Jackoby pleaded, "Will you not put a stop to this madness?"

Princess Eleen cowered away from him and fell into Altoon's arms. They hugged each other in a passionate embrace. "I know not what is going on, Jackoby," she said over her shoulder, her cheek pressed warmly against Altoon's chest. "But I'll take my fiance's word over yours this day... especially considering the way you've been acting of late."

Wizard Jackoby struggled under the firm grasp of the guards, but to no avail.

Princess Eleen then turned to the Wizard, a sense of relief and well-being settling over her in the arms of her handsome Duke. Although, that did not diminish the anger and ferocity she felt at that moment towards her once close and trusted friend and confidant. "Grand Wizard Jackoby, I hereby sentence you to await our good King's return from the Warthog Hunt, shackled within the deepest bowels of our formidable dungeon, with naught but bread and water. We know not your scheme or your wretched intentions, but through your inconceivable actions this day, you have done much to besmirch your good name. I only hope that you will come to repent your evil deeds, and go swiftly on to the ever after upon my Father's sentence on thee."

Upon this uttering, the raven went wild, caawing and screeching. It took to the air and swooped down on them mad with frenzy. It landed on Mikey's shoulder and caawed loudly at him. Mikey felt compelled to comfort it, and began petting its wings.

But it flew from his shoulders, still greatly agitated. It flew around in circles above them for a moment, and then, in a sudden burst of energy, shot through the throne room and flew upstairs to the quarters above.

They were all perplexed for a moment by the raven's strange behavior, and there was some consternation at what should be said or done next. But then the raven came swooping back down into the room clutching an object in its claws. If flew directly to Mikey and, in a great fluttering of wings, hovered above him a moment. Mikey saw that the raven held a tome in its claws. He put his arms out in a fashion to cradle, and with a caaw of satisfaction, the raven dropped the book in Mikey's arms. Mikey read the title:

29 Wizard Spells - of the Greater Dispel Variety.

As they'd done in the gloomy shack in the woods, the raven roosted on Mikey's shoulder again. The boy began flipping through the pages as before, the raven watching intently, as if reading the pages. At page 32, the caawing began, as did the excited flapping of wings, and Mikey knew he had the raven's intent at hand. He read the name of the spell on the page:

Dispel Polymorph - of the Witching Variety.

The raven launched from Mikey's shoulder and fluttered around a moment, then landed five yards out in front of him and danced around excitedly. It spread it's wings wide, flapped them vigorously, a feather or two sent sailing into the air and floating to the floor, but the bird did not fly away.

"I think it wants you to cast a spell, and a spell to cast, thinks I, it wants of you," uttered Drago, hovering easily beside Mikey.

"On who?" Mikey felt the importance of the moment. He sensed everything was coming to a head.

"On him, and him on." Drago tilted his hat toward the raven.

"You sure?"

"Trust me, and me to trust."

Wizard Jackoby strained his neck between the guards to be able to see the words on the page. "Hah... you imbecilic little boy, what good do you think THAT is going to do here?" He bristled with anger even though he knew better. He knew that only Witches magic would do to break a Witch's spell of Likeness...

... or so he thought.

Mikey ignored him. With his newly realized skill in magic, Mikey once again focused his mind. Although, he didn't exactly know what he was focusing on this time. This was all very mystifying.

Mikey shrugged and read the incantation in the book anyway. Nothing happened.

"What is going on here," shouted Wizard Jackoby, truly unsettled now by these odd proceedings. "Princess Eleen, this boy is clearly lost and in over his head. He's just a little nothing of a boy... merely a rotten stinker who does not belong here." The Wizard's anger boiled over, very un-Wizard-Jackoby-like. "And that worthless raven there is nothing but a filthy varmint. Be rid of them both. Come, talk sense to your beloved Altoon, won't you? Have him command these Equerian lumps to release me, so that we may talk in a civilized manner. I cannot..."

"Silence!" bellowed Eleen in fierce determination, all serenity in her voice suddenly discarded. She turned to Mikey. "Continue, my Grand Stinker."

Mikey tried reading it again, and just like before, nothing happened. The raven flapped about on the floor nervously, a perfect rendition of apprehension.

"Memorize, silly boy, don't read, and silly boy, read not, but memorize."

"That's right," shouted Mikey, reminded of that particular aspect to the strange magic. "What would I do without you, Drago?"

For the first time, Drago smiled broadly at Mikey, then tipped his hat to the boy with one of many legs.

And so, with the incantation firmly rooted in his mind, Mikey began once again to chant. He felt a great power rise up from his chest and shoot down his arms as the arcane words issued from his lips. Instinctively, he raised his arms out in front of him, his fingers splayed out wide, and pointed them at the raven. The chant came forth from his mouth, but now in a reverent, even cadence, the words themselves beginning to feel thick on his tongue, holding weight, embodying power.

In a moment, he finished, uttering the last word.

Suddenly a beam of electricity shot forth from his hands, and his body recoiled as if he'd just fired a bazooka. His hair blew back from his forehead, rustling in the gust of power erupting from his hands. A brilliance of light developed in circles around both the raven and Wizard Jackoby. The guards pulled back from the Wizard as far as they could without releasing him. Both The Wizard and the raven then disappeared behind what became more than just globes of light around them, but spheres of brilliant glow, sparkling in a million shiny stars and tracers.

In a moment of raw power, both spheres exploded in a bright flash, leaving in their wake only a dense fog surrounding the two.

Time seemed to stand still as all awaited the fogs to clear. And when they did, they saw before their eyes that the raven was no more. Instead, Wizard Jackoby lay upon the floor in its place, frazzled and dizzy, a crumpled mass beneath his purple robe. Across the way, the guards no longer held the wayward Wizard Jackoby, but rather the Evil Sorcerer Evonbik, who now was back adorned in his red Sorcerer's leather. It hugged his heavily muscled body smartly, that of his true form.

Evonbik began to laugh evilly as he felt all his true powers begin to course once again throughout his body with the return of his form. The guards held him tight, the powerful muscles of their arms rippling with the strain.

"So, my little ruse is up, is it?" snarled Evonbik, not the least bit worried. But to be sure, he was at a complete loss as to how this had happened. What weakness of Witch magic was this? he thought. "How is this possible, Jackoby?" he questioned the Wizard. "How can that insipid Witch magic have been unraveled in such a way? I have gone to such great pains to see it through... only to have it dismantled like this? I must say... this is truly unexpected."

"Evonbik, you slime, you have always held Mage magic in such high contempt. You've always thought your Sorcerer's magic superior. But look, behold the power of the Mage! We have many powerful spells to do all manner of powerful things, and never, in all the realms of this Kingdom, could any other form of magic trump ours. There is a spell at our command to thwart any powerful magic, whether it be Witch charms, or even Sorcerer's magic."

"Perhaps, Mage... if, that is, you have the time to cast your spells. But your confounded Mage magic is slow and fragile." Evonbik spit the words out in disgust. "You'll soon find out just how fragile in the face of my power." He paused a moment, thinking, still perplexed. "But how where you able to breach my lock, Mage? A raven has no power. I must know."

"Did you not just witness the boy's power? He is not a mere Stinker of a boy, but a Stinker of a boy who's also a fledgling Mage, come unto his own this very day." Wizard Jackoby brushed the dust from his splendid robe and looked at Mikey and beamed proudly at the boy. "I sensed his gifts right from the beginning."

"Confounded Mages!" Evonbik barked at Mikey.

Wizard Jackoby shook himself out of his daze. He twirled his arms in circles beside his body, and felt suddenly sorry that his once powerful wings were no longer there to lift him gloriously into the air.

Oh, how he had loved flying about the land, stalking prey with the keenest of eyesight, and taking in the grandeur of the rolling green hills and meadows of the countryside from far aloft; and, more importantly, forever flying high above his look-alike detractor, Evonbik, as he went about his treachery. He'd tracked the Sorcerer's every move from the moment the villain had taken his likeness. He saw everything, saw the abduction of the Duke, saw him drag Altoon to the gloomy shack in the woods, watched the sorcerer from high above, peering through the grimy, stained windows of the shack with his keen eyesight as Evonbik had plodded through the creation of his magical phrase for which to seal the iron door.

He was glad to be back to himself, but being a raven, he thought, was a fine life to live indeed.

"Tell us, Evonbik," he inquired, "what did you hope to gain from your treachery?"

"I will tell you, insipid Mage, but you will not be around long to wallow in the splendor of my plan." Evonbik jerked against the guards holding him firm. He allowed them to remain there for the moment. But that wouldn't be so for long.

"If this little man here, this Duke of yours, had any kind of manly bearing, he would have whiskers as do real men of the realm. Instead, he stalled my plans by being the pubescent adolescent that he is." Evonbik eyed Altoon with derision, then all the rest in the room one at a time, and Mikey felt a chill go down his spine when the evil Sorcerer's eyes found him. He held a distinct disliking for the Sorcerer in red.

"Why, you ask?" continued Evonbik. "I'll tell you. 'Tis because I had to rely on that unrefined, coarse magic of Witches to attain my goals. Whiskers and snail shells and toad stools and mandrake root..." he scoffed. "These are the filthy, slimy implements that only the crudest of magics, Witch magic, deigns to employ. Obviously, the weak link in my plan." He sighed. "Unfortunately, it was my only avenue.

Upon a few strands of his whiskers, I would have taken his likeness, done away with your cackling and caawing forever, Mage, then return to the Keep and taken the lovely Princess Eleen as my wife."

Princess Eleen shuddered, and Altoon held her tight. "Never in a million years, Evonbik. NEVER!" yelled Altoon, seething at the audacity of Evonbik's scheme.

"You bore me, little man. Silence!" Evonbik hissed. His withering gaze then fell upon Eleen, softened slightly, but still held great menace. "Now surely, my Lady, you can see the benefit in wedding a powerful man like myself instead of this... this... this imitation of a man, can you not?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Just because my little ruse is up, doesn't mean you still have to go through with your plans to marry this pitiful worm. Come, come to my side. Come be my wife, and I will love and cherish you forever. And after I destroy these termites in our midst, we can whisk away to the forest and make all manner of little Sorcerers. Ah... what a glorious little clan we can forge out in the woods."

"You disgust me, Sorcerer! I would rather die a million deaths than marry a monster such as yourself." Princess Eleen shuddered at the thought, realizing just how close she'd come to the precipice of Evonbik's desires. But she had to wonder if the Sorcerer would have had the power to seduce her - even with the likeness of her handsome Duke. Surely, she thought, she would have sensed his Evil. But would she have done so in time before the wedding? She shuddered again.

"You disgust me too," shouted Mikey.

Drago cringed by his side. "Hark, silly boy, and silly boy do hark, do not draw the ire of this fiend, and this fiend's ire do not draw, for it is powerful magic he possesseth, and possesseth powerful magic doth he."

Mikey ignored Drago. "I will not allow you to succeed in your filthy plans, Evonbik," he said unafraid.

"I'll deal with you later, boy. For now, I have these termites to deal with. Stand aside, my Lady, I mustn't let the mother of my children become hurt."

Before Evonbik even made his first move, Wizard Jackoby took a firm stance upon the floor, rooting himself in a readied position. His hands came before him in prayer-like fashion and he lowered his head. His lips began to move.

"Ugh oh... and ugh oh," said Drago, and he began to fly off into the shadows in the corner. "Drago does not like destructive magic, and destructive magic Drago does fear."

In an instant, the two guards were flying across the throne room, hurled forth upon Evonbik's great strength. They landed with great force on the floor many yards away and slid seemingly forever until smashing into the base of the throne. There they lay, crumpled, their leather vests coming undone and their shirts ripped and their spears reviled and broken.

"Ouch,"

"that,"

"hurt," they said in tune with each other, then both went unconscious.

Sorcerer Evonbik looked at Wizard Jackoby and smirked evilly. Look at him, he thought, attempting his ridiculous chants. It is going to be such fun incinerating him.

Duke Altoon quickly brought Princess Eleen over to Mikey, and she clung to the boy tightly. "Protect her at all cost, Mr Gillam." Then he drew his great sword and turned, trembling with fear, to face the menacing Evonbik.

Evonbik's concern, first and foremost, was Wizard Jackoby. His right hand suddenly shot out, palm facing Duke Altoon, and he quickly let fly a simple knocking force directly into the Duke, who, suddenly hit with a tremendous gust of wind, went crashing down to the floor, groaning. Having put the Duke out of action for the moment, Evonbik turned once again to Wizard Jackoby. He stood up straight, arching his back in a statuesque pose. He brought his hands before him and pointed them at the Wizard.

As Princess Eleen left his side and rushed to aid the fallen Duke, Mikey watched with amazement as the two magic casters faced off. He saw the whites of Evonbik's eyes as they went up into his head, the Sorcerer standing silent, trembling with magical power as it coursed through his red leather-adorned body. Mikey saw his hands start to glow red. He looked at Wizard Jackoby, seeing the same kind of effect upon his hands alike, only the glow was blue hued and sparkling, all the while, the Wizard continuing to chant his arcane incantation.

And there it was. Right before Mikey's eyes, a murderous battle of wills between Sorcerer and Mage, a battle for the ages between good and evil. He didn't know what he could do, except only to watch and pray that Jackoby would emerge victorious.

As he watched the battle unfold, he saw that the fire in Evonbik's hands had developed into huge fireballs, the heat radiating out from them and causing everything in the background to shake and shimmer like a mirage in their corona. Alarmed, Mikey saw that Evonbik's power surge was much farther ahead than the slower accumulating power of the chanting Wizard. He shrieked "NO...," when he saw Evonbik on the verge of pressing forward with his deadly fireball attack.

Bristling with the urge to engage, Michael Gillam sought his own brand of magic.

He reached into his pockets and grabbed two great handfuls of his precious marbles. In a movement of graceful choreography, with a steady, underhanded toss, he let go his handfuls of marbles in the direction of Evonbik, rolling them upon the smooth, textureless floor of the throne room. With great precision, they gently gathered around Evonbiks red boots. Mikey grabbed another handful of marbles from his pockets and let go another salvo of brightly colored, various sized little balls towards the Sorcerer. Soon, Evonbik stood unknowingly amid a sea of marbles which danced and wobbled all around him.

Mikey, Drago, Princess Eleen, and Duke Altoon all gasped in unison as they saw the Evil Sorcerer begin to launch his attack. Wizard Jackoby continued to chant his incantation, but it was dreadfully apparent he would not be in time.

Evonbik had reached the peak of his power. His arms drew back, bent at right angles behind him, his fingers still facing Jackoby. He lifted his right leg, tilted backwards a moment, then took a great step forward. His arms thrust ahead towards Jackoby like a fencer administering a lethal stabbing pierce, his foot coming down upon the floor to give him a firm, balanced stance upon which to train his fireballs with perfect aim.

But his booted foot did not find purchase on the floor. Instead it found numerous, rolly polly, slippery, treacherously unstable marbles. With his hands still white hot, two raging masses of burning conflagration, Evonbik's right leg shot forward in an unstoppable movement upon the marbles; and Mikey never did see a more perfect gymnastic split in all his life - not even one performed by the inscrutable, yet ever supple Kitty Muldune. In an instant Evonbik's flaming hands flailed about in an effort to help him gain balance. The white hot fireballs suddenly dulled to deep orange as his spell was disrupted.

And in that moment, a great ripping, tearing sound could be heard by all as Evonbik's fine, red leather trousers ripped and tore unceremoniously at the seam of his crotch.

"Aaaaarrrggghhhh," roared Evonbik at the sheer disgrace of the moment. "What is this madness?" He looked down and saw the gaping hole in his britches. Confused, having never experienced something as ludicrous as this before, he was mindlessly compelled to bring his finger there to trace the outline of the inconceivable tear, and then gasped in pain when he burned the inside of his thigh with his still hot hand.

"I told you, Evonbik, I will not allow you to succeed," Mikey yelled, not able to hold back a grin of satisfaction at seeing his little marbles do their dirty work.

"CONFOUNDED STINKER!" screamed Evonbik.

Mikey looked over at Wizard Jackoby, his only hope now to thwart the raging menace he knew Evonbik would soon unleash upon him. And to his great relief, he watched as Wizard Jackoby finally completed his arduous incantation, and brought forth a brilliance of energy to bear directly upon the flustered, enraged Evonbik. The beam shot bright blue, true and straight from his hands and smashed directly into Evonbik.

POOF.

A great flash of light erupted about Evonbik split eagle on the floor. Nearly the same as before, only sparkling in different colors this time, once again he was ensconced in a great, glowing sphere of light. And in a moment, the sphere burst in a dazzling release of energy leaving only a thick cloud of fog in its wake.

And when it cleared, Evonbik was gone. Just like that. What stood in his place was a chicken. It clucked and bobbed, its feathers familiarly textureless and white, its bill crisply yellow. It began strutting around indignantly, until, in a moment of sudden panic, it fluttered its wings and ran from the throne room, never to be seen again.

***

There was a great sigh of relief inside the Keep, and all the individuals there came together, comforting one another. Altoon and the Equerian guards were tended to and happily, all were alright.

"My Grand Stinker, my fabulous little scoundrel, you have saved the day with your mischievous tricks," cried Princess Eleen. Mikey swooned. "Oh, my little Scoundrel, I knew you could do it. Your deeds here this day shall be recorded in the annals of the Realm, and you shall receive great favor from our beloved King when he returns." Princess Eleen when to Mikey and hugged him. "My Little Stinker."

"Many thanks, Little Man," said Duke Altoon, joining them. "There would have been a great sadness throughout the land if it hadn't been for your fortuitous arrival. And I must commend you on your skills."

"Awe... it was nothing," said Mikey, scuffing the floor with the toe of his sneaker as Altoon ruffled his hair. He lowered his head and looked downward in a display of modesty, though the grin of satisfaction and pride plastered upon his face at that moment shattered all illusions of any true modesty. He was, after all, a stinker at heart. Then he looked up seeking Drago.

"Well, Drago... we did it," said Mikey.

"Indeed not we, and we not indeed, rather you, silly boy, and you rather indeed," said Drago, changing constantly between hovering and zig zagging, abuzz with excitement. He tipped his hat to Mikey again.

"I couldn't have done a thing without your help, Drago. We're a team."

"Perhaps so, silly boy, and so indeed perhaps." For the first time, Drago took a position on Mikey's shoulder. It seemed that flying things in this realm had a special affinity for that particular perch. Mikey liked the closeness of his friend there, liked the feel of his weight upon his shoulder, the sense of comradery with Drago, yet still, he experienced a sudden unbidden sadness when he realized he would never see the raven again.

"Master Mikey," said the kind Wizard Jackoby, "I am indebted to you. You have impressed me greatly with the mastery of your stinkerous skills, and I'm proud to know that you are also one with the Magi of the Realm." He came around to Mikey and patted him on the back. "Come visit me any time, and perhaps we can learn each other in the different schools of our magic." The kindness in his eyes was now fully restored to the former luster by which they had always been seen by all.

"That sounds great, Wizard Jackoby. Hey... why don't we get started right now? Here, let me gather my marbles, I've got some real doosies I want to show you."

"Indeed not, silly boy, and silly boy, no indeed. The time is at hand for you to go now, and the time for you to go is now at hand. Family and friends desire your company, and your company is desired by friends and family alike," said Drago.

"No way!" cried Mikey, alarmed at such a suggestion. "C'mon, Drago, don't be a dork. I don't want to go home. I want to stay here in Arturia."

"You will be missed by all, and by all will you be missed. But your stay here for now must come to an end, and to an end must your stay here now come to commence."

"No. I will not leave Arturia," demanded Mikey, stubbornly, stinkerously.

I WILL NOT LEAVE ARTURIA.
I WILL NOT LEAVE ARTURIA.
I WILL NOT...
I WILL NOT...
I WILL NOT...

***

He awoke to a jostling at his neck. Bleary eyed, he looked around to find the whole class standing around him, laughing. The sight of Kitty Muldune caused a great depression to arise within him. Back in class? Oh no. Darn it!

"Mikey, wake up," said Mr Levine. "C'mon, son, it's time to go home. I see you haven't finished your paper... but this will do for now."

Mikey left the school, the images and the characters from his dream swirling around his head. Oh, how he wanted to return right that very minute and talk to Drago. He longed to hear the ridiculous yet wondrous speech of the beloved dragonfly, his friend. He longed to be at the Princess's and Duke's wedding, where he could share in the celebration of their union, and where they all could revel in the great victory over the Evil Sorcerer Evonbik.

But, alas, it was all a dream. A wondrous, stupendous dream that he would never forget.

That night, as he cuddled beneath the covers in bed, he was just about on the verge of sleep, when he heard a familiar hum at the window. He ripped the covers from his head and looked that way. He saw razor sharp movements zip this way and that, then zip off into the night. He noticed something on the window sill.

Mikey went to the window and opened it. On the sill lay a grimoire, its cover bound in ancient leather and dog eared at the corners. Mikey blew the dust off it and read the title:

29 Wizard Pranks - of the Stinker Variety.

Mikey could barely contain himself and bristled with joy. He took the book into his arms, hugged it a moment, and then ran back to the bed, lunging onto it in a great bouncing heap. He returned under the covers, holding the book tight to his chest.

He wondered what he should do next: dive into the tome and begin reading? Or go to sleep and return to Arturia post haste?

Hmm... I'll do both, he decided. I'll just do my reading over there.

"Goodnight, Mom," he called out into the house as he often did, feeling every bit a stinkerous little hero, and wholly satisfied with himself.

"Goodnight, Mikey," came his mother's gentle voice drifting up from the livingroom, sounding serene and sweet... just like someone else he knew.

The End

Word count: 4828
Word count all parts: 11844