Short Story 1: Tellan's Recollection
The moment that changed not just my life, but the those of my entire village, was the day I met a man named Kyrisae. Though, I can’t rightly call him a man, for he was so much more. I’ll start from the beginning. I, Tellan Morros, was born and raised in Furric Village – a village known for its rich soil and flavorful crops – mostly gunga root and fallium fruit.
We were also a central trading port, and that’s where the trouble started. I was in my early twenties when a Captain of the King’s Navy decided to call Furric Village his home base. His reasons were “the tasty food and the pretty women”, but I knew it was due to our hard work ethic and our passive nature. Captain Burron was his name, and he was as cruel and disgusting a man as the most gruesome demon. Tall, fat, and not at all pleasant to look at. After four years of torment and pain under Captain Burron’s boot, a man arrived at the docks.
He was a radiant site to behold. Not much younger than I was at the time, maybe eighteen or nineteen. He had long, straight white hair, and green eyes that seemed to illuminate his whole face. A face gentle and calming. I’m not afraid to admit I shed a few tears as I gazed at him, before even speaking to him, for something inside screamed to me that this man was our salvation – our champion – our hero. Was this man one of the mythical korens heard in legends and children’s stories? My heart was pulsing “yes”, but my mind was forcefully demanding “no.”
“Hello,” the luminous man said as he began walking toward me. No, more like floating gracefully toward me. As he neared, the wind seemed to hush, as though the world itself paused to watch him walk. I managed to make my mouth fumbled out a shaky “hello.” The man stopped a few feet from me and spoke again. “You have a beautiful village. What’s your name?” I stared for a few moments in awe before mumbling “I’m Tellan Morros.” Well, Tell, may I call you Tell? Can you guide me to the leader of your village?” the man said peacefully. “Y-y-yes of c-course. R-right this way.” I slowly turned, not wanting to cease taking in this glorious site of what my heart bellowed as “our retribution.”
As we walked through the village, making our way to the lone tower at the northern-most part of Furric where Captain Burron resided, something odd happened – Old Mayrean dropped the basket of gunga root she was carrying and gasped, wide-eyed, as we passed. She couldn’t take her eyes off the strange, beautiful man following me, as though she knew him – and feared him.
When we were almost to Baronn’s tower, the man spoke to me again in a low tone that still seemed to pierce my mind. “You’ve all suffered so much. Tell me, why do you allow this?” Allow this? I thought, but said “we are a passive people. We don’t believe violence will solve our problems.” The man smiled and said “that is a noble philosophy. However, sometimes one must fight for all he holds dear to him.” With those words I broke down. I threw myself at his feet, bawling, and begged him to save us. He stared at me for a while before speaking again. “My name is Kyrisae, and I am simply here to speak with a Captain by the name of Barron Mystofolis.”
I didn’t want to believe his words. I desperately desired for him to be our salvation – our revenge for four years of terror, anger, and hate at the hands of our ruthless “leader.” As I knelt there, still bawling, I noticed my head and back had become wet. It had started to rain – warm and comforting – or was that feeling from the man standing in front of me? I still cannot tell all these years later. Kyrisae spoke one last time before disappearing through the tower’s entrance. “If I save this village, you must promise me that this will never happen again as long as you and your bloodline live.” Before I could make that promise, he was gone.
When I say the time spent waiting for some kind of sign, some result, felt longer than the twenty-two years I’d lived before then, I’m not exaggerating. Three hours truly felt like forty years slowly slunking by. Finally, the loudest crash I’d ever heard echoed from the top of the tower and permeated the entire village. I looked up at the top of the tower just as Kyrisae – holding Captain Barron by the throat, dangling out of the window – had let go of the large brute, sending him hurtling to his demise below.
A few minutes later Kyrisae strolled out of the door at the bottom of the tower. As he glided past me I heard “he didn’t want to be reasonable. Remember our promise, Tellan.” I stood there in shock, not able to move any part of my body. I could only stand there, not breathing, not blinking, and be in awe of what I’d just witnessed. I wanted to explode with joy and thanks for what had just transpired – and I did, hours later, when I was able to move again. When I spoke to Old Mayrean that night, she told me how she’d seen that man in ancient books and scrolls telling of myths and legends of the world. Kyrisae the Magnificent – a koren, able to communicate with nature itself, and selfless beyond what we know.
Ever since that day, sixty-seven years ago, me and my family have devoted ourselves to ensuring Furric Village never again succumbs to evil and tyranny. We train every single day, with every weapon available to us, with every strategy known to us, and with every fiber of our being – so that we never again have to be saved by a divine being such as Kyrisae. Now, hopefully, he will visit as a dear friend, not a savior.
-Tellan Gallus Morros, Furric Village, 3045 A.V.
