Generations of Courage

"I am afraid that because of that pact, Galegmos may be harmed by nothing but the sword Condita, lost long ago. I can give you my notes to help you find it, but . . ."
"But?" The brave young members of the desperate band leaned forward to ensure they heard every one of the sage's words.
"But Condita may only be wielded by the descendants of Bevler, into whose hands the spirits first gave it!"
The rapt listeners gasped in dismay. "Are there any alive today? How can we find them?"
The sage held up his fingers and began to count. "Well, I'm one. And three of you. Sorry, little Yodly. And that shepherd passing by right now." They all paused to look outside at the whistling peasant. "Then there's most of the villagers in Hurglen down the road, except for the Rundels of course. They're later arrivals. Then, if you go to Trantose, eight thousand, six hundred nine trace their blood back to Bevler. I have suspicions about a couple thousand more there. After that . . ."
The eager seekers assured the sage that they had enough candidates to get started.
Finis

Double Heaven

"When the day comes, if you have lived rightly, tranquil fields will be yours to wander. Had you still needs they would be met, but as it is, nothing but untroubled time awaits you for the space of a year.
"At that time a messenger will arrive to inform you of an offer. You may continue to reside in that blessed realm, or you may spin the wheel. Should it stop at a favorable position, you will ascend to a more exciting afterlife, but in the other case, you will return to the mortal world to live and strive for righteousness again.
"The higher afterlife is the province of the witty, the learned, and the well-traveled where lassitude is impossible. Having dwelled there for ten years, the same messenger or another will inform you of another land reached by a similar method. That realm is impossible for me to describe. After a century there, the messenger will approach you again, and so on. Well? Would you take the first chance? The second? What do you think?"
"Grandpa, I wouldn't and neither would anyone else."
"Heroes would, child. And as for those heroes . . . do you think they hope for the outcome you would?"
Finis

Supply Problems

Sphinxes probably didn't reproduce but rather emerged from the footsteps of hero-kings, which is why we don't see any today. Once there are planet kings, the situation will likely reverse.

Apotheosis Dawn

For assorted reasons, some of them exciting in their own right, a traveler wandered untracked lands, lonely and anxious about his prospects. When he came across a stone building that resembled him in its solitude, a suspicious sight, he reckoned the risk of disaster better than the certainty. There he found succor.
"Welcome, traveler, to Yulril Abbey. You may stay here one day and night and then go away provisioned."
"Thank you. To what god is this abbey dedicated, that I might thank him?"
"We're waiting to find that out ourselves. Perhaps we erred in our order, but we trust one will come to us. Hm. You are the first layman to visit; are you perhaps the very god?"
"How could I be confused for a god?"
"No, of course that's impossible. Please come this way."
At the time the traveler thought nothing of having someone agree with him, but after he recovered his place in society, the abbot's tone became in his memory somewhat excessively firm. Nettled, he embarked on a course of greatness in both the political realm and in feats of personal courage, succeeding so well that the great admiration he earned during his life tranformed into a hero-cult after his death which justified itself to the priestly community through numerous confirmed miracles and prophecies. Yulril Abbey's cenobites never heard of it so far as anyone knew.
Finis

On Height

When Apollodorus (Pseudo-Apollodorus if you want to be mean) declared Heracles to have been four cubits tall, he presumably did not intend to make that legendary figure a target of ridicule. Yesterday's giant is today's manlet it seems. For that reason, be sure to describe your hero in this way: "He was tall and handsome by the standards of your time and place." There, insulated. If you don't want your hero to be tall, yes you do.

Telote's Saga

The custom of the kings over the Wilse was to invite to their weddings the hero Yitgand who had aided their ancestor in taking the kingship. Telait first ended the custom, saying Yitgand was surely dead as was everyone else who roamed alongside his grandfather's grandfather's father, and none blamed him for that except one.
For during the feast a man thrust himself into the hall who had greatness in both his stature and his age more than any could believe. He rebuked King Telait, saying that forgetting one man was nothing, but since he had remembered, he must have forgotten valor and honor instead. He then foretold that the issue of that wedding would be good for little, that it was a shame, and that it was no curse from him who was Yitgand but simply a sign of the age.
All went as he said. The king's son Telote's hands did not seek the sword or know what to do with one, nor did he have wit in counsel or speech. The king said he would reward the man who could rear him better. Yitgand came again, saying he doubted the result but had never shirked a challenge on that account. He had charge of Telote from then on.
Telait's son cast off his sluggishness and killed a hero shortly after, when he was twelve years of age. He followed that with countless deeds of bravery and open-handedness so that his enemies feared him more than shame while his friends were outnumbered only by men seeking his friendship. After he took the scepter from Telait's quavering hand he did still more. Every king whose ancestors paid the Wilse tribute did so again, and many were forced to it for the first time.
When Telote made up his mind to take a wife, he refused to bring back the custom, saying that he remembered valor well enough but disliked Yitgand for his harshness and odor. The wedding passed in peace. Yitgand said of it that the king's reasons were as good as any he ever heard and worthy of a bold man.
Finis

The Artisanal Cycle

In the future, resources will be so abundant that all the cool guys will have hand-crafted gear that will make stripping corpses worthwhile again. Then, the fights over the stripped stuff, and a new epoch of heroes.

The Shepherd and the Egg

Once there was a shepherd who had fallen into lamentable poverty. He could barely do his job in the end, weakened by hunger as he was. Then, one day, he came across an egg unlike any other he had seen, for it was of many colors and shone as if made of gold. What more need be said? He cracked the egg with his crook, or tried to. It resisted his feeble first strike.
"Here is my second strike," he said, and struck it again. The egg wobbled.
"This is my third strike!" Summoning all the strength he had, the shepherd shouted and brought down his staff on the shell, which shattered. He hurried to collect as much of the egg as he could, but much soaked the ground. Sad, he sat down to eat, and as his sheep grazed around him, their wool changed into those many colors. Their wool became a prized item, and he was rescued from poverty at last.


The End


-- 500 Years Earlier --
"Grah!" The demon god roared as the mighty warrior's blade broke through its terrible hide and made an end of it.
"I have defeated you all here, all you demon gods," the warrior proclaimed.
"I cannot deny it," the demon god answered, and indeed the corpses of its several brethren were around it. "But for this we curse you! Your descendants will be of lowly station because of this curse. We meanwhile are gods. One day we will revive and attain the fullness of our power, a woeful day for all living things!"
"It may that your curse is sure to have its effect," the warrior said. "Do not think that my descendants will not shed your blood regardless. By this sword that has slain you, I swear that what I say has no falsehood in it."
Finis

The Great Auction

The kingdom's financial difficulties forced it to auction off the right to name the next year, but good came out of it. There was much entertainment had by the people as the wealthy put forth publicly the names they intended to give it, whether reminders of their glorious ancestors or sentimental tributes to their present-day families. Brotherhoods scraped together all the promises they could from multiple members in the hope of attaching some reference only members of a particular occupation understood. The king tried not to discourage anyone by giving his opinion, but court-watchers reported his every expression when he heard of the latest proposed name.
The day of the auction came too soon for the public's liking but just in time for the treasury. As the event began in the grand hall, the king himself watching though not presiding, the great door burst open and there stood a man. It was Aldis, the great hero who had saved the kingdom countless times, outfitted in his magical armor of blue and armed with his adamant-cleaving sword. No one expected him, for he had left the kingdom to seek more adventure and beside that was no rich man, having the custom of giving away wealth as soon as he took it as he did.
"I have slain the wicked dragon Tyvithoda!" he declared to the wondering gasps of all there. "And plundered all that vast hoard. None, I think, will outbid me now."
The people begged to hear what he had chosen as the name, but to judge by the king's grimace, he knew already. Neither was Aldis mistaken about his superiority in wealth, and accordingly was the year entered into the annals as the Year of the King Still Wets His Bed.
Happy New Year!
Finis

The Face on the Coin

The subjects had been of two minds for months, and all that changed on the day they were to hear the new king's first proclamation was who sat in which camp. The people drifted this way and that, swayed by arguments, portents, and simply their mood.
The reason they had for choosing this king was unchanged and powerful: He was the hero who saved the world. Whom did they owe greater gratitude? Who had more might to protect them?
The reason for wishing they had not was clear and direct: He had been raised to fight, not to rule. He knew nothing of diplomacy, had few connections, and required training in every aspect of finance.
The proclamation would presage what kind of rule was to come, whether a disaster of incompetence or a golden age with a god-picked hero at its head. Never had a new king been scrutinized so closely by the people when he came out in his rich robes.
"My subjects!" He raised his arms high in a rudimentary oratorical flourish. At least he had not refused instruction altogether. "It is the custom to print the new king's face on new coins." He lowered his arms. "This is the first custom I will ignore."
The tension could hardly be withstood, but the people listened to the rest.
"My subjects, I propose instead to hold a contest among the hottest chicks in the kingdom to figure out who'd look great on a coin and put her on it. Who's with me?"
The country's greatest reign began among ecstatic cheers.
Finis

Proper Endings for Fantasy Main Characters

If the main character doesn't become king, there should probably be an appendix explaining he becomes king of some other place later. Even the first Dragon Quest understood this much.

An Age of War, an Age of Sport

The ball shot into the net. "Way to go, Zujarn! We're gonna smash those uptight snoblins tomorrow!" The rowdy goblins hooted and high-fived one another, but what was going on in the equipment tent into which a shadowy figure slipped?
The scrying mirror dimmed. "That's what the monsters are getting up to ever since we helped the hero defeat the Monster Kaiser who controlled all of them with his dark magic?" asked the warrior Breskam of his old colleague, Yesdo the sage.
"It seems so. I'm as surprised as you are."
"Hmph. At least they aren't getting up to any real trouble." Breskam crossed his mighty arms. "Do you want to keep watching? I do."
"I can't take my eyes off it," Yesdo admitted. "I worry for my future." Despite his worries, he again activated the scrying mirror.
Finis

Aerial Selection

Once, people ran from every strange shape, for it was always some monster or fiend. The most mysterious, it is said, was a great bird, if it could be called that, for it was larger than any bird or barn and never flapped its wings but only held them in different positions. Moreover, it did not cry on its constant travels. It only looked down, and if a bird could sneer, it did.
It passed over every city, every village, the farms and shacks too each in its turn, and when a visitor from abroad came it came without fail to investigate. At first the people feared it as much as the manticores, gargoyles, harpies, and all the other dreadful enemies of mankind, but as it never killed anyone or hauled away a cow, they came to feel reassured when it passed overhead, much as when they caught sight of a neighbor hard at work. Some began to offer prayers they hoped it would carry to better places.
Then one day a traveler arrived, firm of hand and step. The great bird saw him and without hesitation entered a dive, and all were shocked who saw it save for the target alone, who unsheathed his sword and cut apart that ranger of the skies with one blow though it seemed impossible given its size. Yet the bird split cleanly into two, and inside it was empty and bloodless. And one among them who was the oldest and wisest advised the traveler to go inside.
He did, and pulled the two halves together, and they joined together as if never cut. The bird then soared straight up to take the battle to heaven which a host of demons had conquered, and for once mankind hoped.
Finis

Collection Impulse

Once, the gods spread across the world armor, a shield, a helmet, gauntlets, and a sword for the day when darkness rose and a hero went to meet it. However, the hero only needed the sword, so the other items were never found.
"Now I, Argurim, the king of collectors, will complete the set!"
The wealthy adventurer set out after making that bold proclamation. First, he and his retinue visited Lattely the City of Stamps, which was a bad idea, because he never left it. And so the divine panoply slumbers still.
Finis

The Newest Publishing Trend

In order to put physical books back above digital where they belong, the last page of every book will say, "And the true hero was . . . YOU!" above a mirror embedded in the back cover. That's show those 1s and 0s the power of human emotion.

An Exalted Lineage

"'For a small fee, our experts will tell you if the bloodline of any dragons, elementals, or deified heroes runs through your veins.' A small fee to start with, and another, and another, and another! Haven't you had enough?"
The representative smiled. "Why, sir, this is simply a second service we offer. You are perfectly free not to take advantage of it, of course. Our inclination is toward the unrestricted circulation of information, but we understand some of our customers lean toward privacy."
"Right. I like privacy. That's the sole reason I don't want to have you bruit the bloodline your experts claim to have detected."
"'Claim to?' Sir, if you wish to consult another service, I'm sure their experts will support . . ."
"I do love paying two scandal-mongers, but I'm cutting back on my decadence."
"To tell the truth, sir, I'm envious. If only I were descended from the deified hero Povennius."
"I'm sure you'd enjoy it."
"The one who, at the battle of Ledaliae, famously . . ."
"I know what he did! Everyone knows what he did! Here's your money!"
"Thank you, sir. I look forward to continuing this conversation next month."
Finis

Quick Question

The stars are . . .

Balls of chemical reactions.
The hopes of the people.
Ancient heroes, immortalized.
The eyes of the terrible beast!
Big bugs.
Gems as big as your fist, ready to be taken.
The future, if you can read it.

Pity Has Its Weight

The blessed rains cleared up in time for people to continue thinking them blessed. Even that blot could be seen, as occurred on only the clearest days.
"Ah, there's the city of the saints, watching over us as always."
"You're a fool, Sidim. That's the left eye of the Dour Navigator, looking for the right, and there's isn't too much that's benevolent about it."
Nothing suited people lounging in the street better than speculating or inventing stories about the dot in the sky, and nobody imagined his words would be taken seriously. That is, until that day when a stranger walked in who looked as if he had never heard speech less serious than a priest's at a coronation.
"It's none of those things. Better for me that it was, but no. That is the Sky Tomb. Listen to what I say about it. Once, this was centuries ago I suppose, but once, there was a man who gained everything by crimes and atrocities. Even saying his name is a curse, but I am cursed all the way through already. Orsarius was it, and when he died, wealthy and powerful, the ruler of a kingdom. It subjects were glad to forget its name. Only among men is such injustice allowed. When we buried him, the earth and sky both refused his wicked tomb. Now it stays forever between them, and we laborers walk the world, telling everyone of it. Someday, I am sure, the tomb will be destroyed. Then I will be freed. I am sure."
The stranger walked on, and none dared raise any doubts about his story. Most believing of all was Rimarin, who stated years later that was the day he decided to become a hero. And you do not believe me that ever men saw the Sky Tomb above them, ask Rimarin what he did there.
Finis

Addendum

Once there was a lizardman prince who lay on rocks for only nineteen hours a day. He became the greatest lizardman hero of all time.

The Spirit of Inquiry

Professor Weblen supervised the final fitting of his life's work, his most sophisticated and useful device. His assistants mounted the wheels on the axle and placed the rune-covered axle caps with as much caution as they would any other delicate thaumaturgical construct. The carriage received an alarmingly intricate array of instruments and etheric controls before being covered by a shield-generating parasol. As to the yoke-like section, it had nothing to do with horses but rather ended up attached to a shell of one of those great time-defying turtles said to live forever, unless someone hunted them for technological reasons. The shell hovered, unusual behavior for turtles but expected if one looked under it and saw the pan-elemental animation engine, the finest available, occupying the space.
The assistants, each of whom might have been welcomed in any number of courts or merchant houses but stayed with the professor to learn even more, backed away so the great man could inspect their work.
"Mhm. Mmmhm. Mm. Yep." Professor Welben nodded, tilted his head, nodded, and tilted it the other way. "Yes, that's it. The Time Chariot is completed. I'm going to go back and ask the legendary hero why he sealed the nightmare king instead of just killing him. So inefficient!"
The assistants gasped when they saw the professor enter the carriage, and gasped again when he started adjusting levers and turning dials. "Sir! It hasn't been tested!"
He blinked at them. "Of course it hasn't. This is the test drive. Be back immediately if not sooner!" The chariot jerked forward, reared back, and dashed straight into nowhere they could see. The Time Chariot may not have worked, but it did something.

"Here we are. Hey! Are you the legendary hero?" The professor leaned over the side and addressed an almost man-shaped endless swirl of chaotic energy. "I suppose not. You must be the lord of horror. Hello! Hero! Are you there? I want to ask you a question! Why seal this entity for a thousand years?"
"You dare predict that fate for me?" Words that chilled as they entered the ear came from the embodiment of wickedness.
"Well, sure. It happens, you know. You get sealed."
"Nooooooooo!" The thing wailed as the eldritch forces that composed it slowed, stopped, and dissipated. The darkness ended, and light flooded the world.
"You have performed a brave deed that will be remembered for a thousand thousand years," the envoy of light that descended from heaven told Professor Welben. "By reciting the sacred formula, 'You, get sealed,' you have removed this malevolent influence from the world, for a time. The victory is not final, yet it is a victory."
"Oh. That explains that." The legendary hero fiddled with the controls again. "Thanks for telling me. We have to share information if we want to get anywhere. Bye!" The Time Chariot departed on another curiosity-satisfying adventure.
Finis