mypajama.com is all about storytelling. Stories and essays are published at an alarmingly infrequent rate. Subscribe with RSS or via email.

The Hero laid his sword down on the pier and looked westward. He had learnt long ago that looking at the sunset helped nothing except his image in the eyes of the obsessive admirers standing behind him. Although in pressing times, obsessive admirers were often the only thing standing between him and a future without a decent pension. They spelled votes.

He grew tired of looking at the sunset. So he sighed audibly and slowly turned towards the temple. The Sorceress stood in the hallway.

“How much longer?” he asked.

Everything stopped. A moment later, the Sorceress lifted her hand and beckoned to him. He walked into the temple with her.

“You should know better than that.” said the Sorceress. “You can’t expect me to hear you from across the road. And you know it would shame a being as all-knowing as I to say ‘Beg your pardon’.”

“My apologies.” said the Hero, “I wanted to know how much longer.”

The Sorceress looked embarrased again, “What are you talking about?”

“I am sorry.” the Hero said. He empathised with the Sorceress. Image was everything. “How long before I finish all the tasks? Before I can settle down?”

“What do you want to settle down for?” the Sorceress asked. “Yours is the life hundreds in the world’s cities would like to have. The excitement of it, the danger of it.”

The Hero continued unamused, “I think you should tell the new sign-ups about the insurance documents’ fine print too.”

“Come now warrior. Has mortal fatigue taken you?” The Sorceress turned and her cloak swung. She realised she had asked another question. She was supposed to know if mortal fatigue had taken the Hero.

“I prefer to call it realising-that-the-end-always-comes.” The Hero smiled a mirthless smile. “I have slain happy dragon families to appease prejudiced villagers. I have made meaningless cryptic conversation with Gods. I have pretended to be unafraid while I mocked fiery-eyed demons. I have… I think I have had enough.”

“You wish retirement then? A quiet life in some far away isle with none to disturb your well-earned peace?” The Sorceress thought she could make these questions pass as marks of condescension.

“Like hell I do! The Hero thundered as thunderously as he ever did inside the temple. “What about all the gold I earned this town? What about the enchanted treasures of Ikthya? The magical jewel I retrieved from the most disgusting serpent of Palia? Is a fair share of what I won not my wont? Heaven help this town if your answer be no.”

“You will have to sue the elders I am afraid,” Said the Sorceress. “They decide.”

“By the blade of *name of the local sky spirit whose name it is blasphemy to pronounce* I will do.” The Hero swore.

“I am sorry it is this the times came to.” The Sorceress was genuinely sorry. The temple didn’t have many able recruits right now.

“Not as sorry as you will be temple-keeper!” Said the hero. “I will have a divine council sit on this. See you in the city hall in two moon-spins.”

The Hero’s admirers were sure he was storming towards another task as he swept past the crowd in a hurry. Some time later, thunderclouds above the Hero’s place announced the lawsuit.

Do not look for meaning in this. I beg of you. Just a stupid writing exercise.

Posted on Monday, March 20th, 2006 at 4:37 pm and filed under Myth, stories, fantasy.

Do you believe in destiny? Click here to read a random post.

I publish new stories and essays with alarming infrequency. To stay updated, subscribe to the RSS feed or get email updates.

Visit me at my new blog: http://www.vmohanty.com