On a pleasant evening, after a dinner of modest proportions consisting only of staples such as bread and vegetables grown in the tiny garden from behind the house, far removed from the noise and hustle of the city, Arlus stands from the table. A handsome young man, with a belly now as full as his hopes for the upcoming journey he will be taking tomorrow, he gives his grandmother a kiss on the cheek before walking out the front door to have a seat on the porch swing to meditate.

“It’s much more comfortable since you fixed it last week, isn’t it?” Before Arlus could answer his grandfather continued, “Yep, the swing sure was in a sad state.” The old man - with a stately posture and demeanor of contentment which serve as remnants of a life well lived - now seated besides his only living next of kin said nothing more as he reached out and gave the boy a pat on the knee.

“To think, I’ll be leaving for the labyrinth tomorrow,” said the boy, eyes wide with excitement.

“Indeed,” replied the kind old man with a warm smile on his face, before asking the question, “Are you nervous?”

The young man, his short dark hair being blown a bit by the late breeze, showed little hesitation in replying “Nope!,” before thinking about it another moment and continuing, “Well, maybe just a little.”

His grandfather, chuckling a bit with laughter, said “That’s a good thing my boy. It’s understandable to be a little fearful before doing something new. I felt the same way on the eve of my first expedition,” now looking out into the space in front of him, as if lost in deep thought.

Arlus displayed a small grin across the right cheek of his face, as if happy to hear that his conflicting emotions are justified, since they are likely shared by everyone who has ever before gone off to explore the unknown.

“Let me tell you a story from my younger days…”

As this tale was to come from his grandfather, but more importantly perhaps, a former and far revered landsknecht, Arlus was inclined to listen of course.

“Once upon a time (ed. Sure it may be cliché, but this is how all the good stories start) my guild was tasked with a quest we had learned about from the owner, also the town gossip, at the city pub. At this time, we were just starting to make a name for ourselves around town, so the kind woman believed we may be up to the challenge. Oh! And what an exciting task it was, for we were to try and find the treasure of a legendary bandit king!"

The old man’s words were filled with such wonder and he was very much happy to see his grandson’s eyes, just as bright and wide now, as they were when he was still only a child listening to such tales by the fireplace before bedtime.

Without taking much more than a single moment to reflect upon those times, he continued. “So then, given a new adventure, we went and retired at the inn for the night. Although my friends thought it wise to rest as much as possible before setting out in the morning, I, well, I could hardly sleep a wink, for this was just the type of undertaking that I’d always dreamed of. I kept imagining that if we were able to find this long lost treasure, it would be just the sort of exploit others would speak of for many years to come.”

Arlus gave a silent nod as he continued to enjoy this story.

“So, as the rooster crowed at daybreak, we departed the safety of the town and headed back into the depths once again. As we kept a very detailed map – something you’ll find to be very important, so remember it well – our medic, your grandmother,” he said that last bit with some emphasis as if to remind Arlus of her importance and contributions, “She noticed a gap in some trees we had not yet explored.

Upon clearing a path through to the other side of the forest wall, there were many small empty patches of ground, separated into what can only be described as a series of rooms. We had all thought this to be fairly peculiar, but just then; we heard loud footsteps to the east. Oh, they were so loud! After a little deliberation among the group, we cautiously started in the direction of the ruckus, unsure what might be found.”

With his grandfather now taking a moment to clear his throat, the many verbal exclamations putting a strain on his voice, the boy spoke up and asked “Are you ok? Please, don’t stop now!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it my boy,” at which point, his voice seemingly back to normal only in need of a quick rest, “This is the best part.”

“Now then, where was I? Oh! Yes, the beast!”

“After walking for a short while, we saw it, a golem! It was a truly massive foe, made up of large grey stones, it stood there menacingly. However, as frightened as I was at that moment I first laid my eyes upon the monster, as the leader of the group, I couldn’t afford to let that emotion show, lest my cowardice deflate in any way the morale of the others. Instead, weapon drawn, the same as if fighting a mere butterfly, I stood ready to fight and prepared to sacrifice all for my friends.

Indeed, it was a terribly long battle. With the help of the alchemist, Sir Lucas, I was able to attack with devastating elemental sword slashes.”

Arlus interrupted, “I’ve heard of him before. He’s famous!”

“Sure he is. It is a shame though that he had to die so young.” The old man said this with sadness clearly evident, as though he’d probably cry if he had been thinking upon his ‘brother’ in solitude. Quickly, so as to avoid an emotional scene, he continued, “We each had to do our best to slay the foul monster. Your grandmother was in charge of keeping us healthy with her magic, while,” pausing only for one more moment of reflection, “A couple other names you might have heard before, Ms. Larkin and Mrs. Elle, did their part, as a dark hunter and protector respectively. Why, the offensive binds placed on the enemy by Ms. Larken and the defense provided by Mrs. Elle, really helped to see us all through the battle.

As I said before, the scuffle between us and the giant was very long. Having no idea exactly how much fight the foe had left within, I was starting to become deeply concerned. Then, just like a bolt of lightning from the tip of my sword, we had felled the mighty adversary. Only, only, there was no treasure to be found.”

“What! What do you mean there was no treasure? Are you sure you killed the right monster?” Arlus asked these questions with a look of stunned disbelief on his face.

“That’s what I said alright. There was no treasure to be found anywhere. Weary from the great battle, we quit searching in vain and returned to town. We had decided to stop by the pub on the way to the inn to report our findings, or should I say a lack thereof. As we walked though the door there was a look of worry upon the owner’s gentle face. When she looked up to greet her customers, though in no mood to do so, the look turned from sorrow to relief almost instantly as the lady ran to us, ecstatic to see that we were safe.

You see, it turned out that the man who had made the request at the tavern came back; too late it seemed, to confess the truth. The truth was just as we’d thought. There wasn’t any treasure to be found at all! The story of the bandit king Edue was completely made up by the old man.”

“But, why?” asked the boy in a manner so quizzically a wrinkle appeared across his brow.

“Well, it turns out that the man who made the request was quite old. He was seeking revenge vicariously through any group of explorers who would accept the quest, thinking that a story of a long lost treasure would be enough to entice somebody to slay the monster. Suffice to say it worked.” As the young man’s grandfather said this, he let out a hearty laugh which lasted almost every bit of an entire two minutes.

Arlus didn’t quite understand something about that last part of the story though, so he spoke up and inquired as to why the old man had wanted revenge. “For whom did he want justice?” the boy asked.

His grandfather’s laughter stopped abruptly and the look of joy in his eyes turned slowly more solemn. “Well my boy, the reason that old man had gone through all the trouble to make up that elaborate story, so far as to put our very lives in danger, well, it’s because he was a grandfather himself, just as I am to you. That terrible fiend had killed his grandson.”

At that moment, Arlus’s expression, now turned downward to the wooden deck beneath his feet, grew sad looking and afraid.

His grandfather once again spoke and in a gentle voice he said, “I don’t tell you this tale to upset you, it’s just that I and your grandmother care about you very much. When you leave tomorrow, we will no doubt worry and pray for safety in your adventures; in every step that fate may choose to send you. However, I don’t want what I’ve told you here today to weigh on your heart any longer. All I want is for you to remember that…”

The old man, once again staring straight ahead, not lost in thought as earlier, but rather focused on the next words he will speak, maybe the last ever to his grandson, now turns to Arlus and tells him.

“I love you.”

- end