In the city of Re'Anesh, capital of the kingdom of Cor Callen to the East, a large square dominated by a sizeable ornate font can be found. This font hosts a knight scaling a hill to reach a maiden at it's peak, both lovingly and painstakingly rendered, down to the blades of grass crushed beneath their feet.

The font is sunken into the square so that the water is nearly flush with it's paving stones, and there are smaller sculpted "islands" which are smooth on top with several large enough to hold a person or two comfortably, having become a place of leisure, rather than awe, as it once was.

Few know the Tale of the Font any longer, it hales from a time long lost so that even the names of the characters are unknown, but we tell it all the same.


It is an age old tale, the sort that folk love to tell... A fair maid and a gallant chap who loved her.. She was one of those who blossomed early into a beauty many women crave, the kind that comes easily which everyone notices, whether they wish to or not. She was a Sithe maid, with a cloud of the softest black hair framing an all-too perfect face.. He was, as they say "Only Human" and one of many to fall to her beauty. She was sweet as cream and turned them all away.. awaiting the one who could fulfill the prophesy of her life. She had been told by a witch-woman in her village that only one who's heart was as pure as her skin, flawless as it was, and who's courage was as commanding as her beauty, which held sway over countless men, would be worthy enough to wed.

Many were her suitors, and great their deeds became.. For once one had bested an ogre, another had saved an orphan, and yet another had turned a whole host of evil men to good.. On their glories grew, so much so that surely none could hope to best them, and she herself had quite a time of it trying to best judge between them..

It was one day when she was listening carefully to the tales of her latest suitors that another sort of man arrived. This man was darker than the rest, both of skin and of spirit. He spoke of the witch-woman with disdain, but agreed that only the most talented man should have her, otherwise they'd likely have a small war on their hands. So he proposed a new tact. He set up a daunting challenge, in a land even further off and lost to time. He took the maiden's hand as he began to explain and in a swirl of smoke they were gone.

The search for the maid was one of the largest and most far-reaching in the memory of tale and story. The number of men keen on being the one who enacted her rescue totalled in the hundreds, if not thousands.

But the Strange man was by far her craftiest suitor. He was a Shonai who lived off in a wooded stronghold of his own making. He knew he could never match the deeds of her myriad suitors, but used his cleverness to bypass such things. He claimed her by right of default, should none of the others prove capable of accomplishing her rescue.

Many tried and failed, the death count on her behalf rose to unbelievable numbers. It was very nearly the largest loss of life which could be not be attributed to a war between peoples.

Our Gallant chap however was determined and he chose to speak with the only other true source of aid in his noble quest, he sought the witch woman who had made the first prophesy of the Maiden. She told him much of the secrets of the Strange Shonai, seeing things only she could. She sent him on many journeys to seek objects which would aid him in his quest to save the Maid.

He journeyed long and wore out countless pairs of boots, but on he went, bouyed by a faintly flickering hope. He fought all manner of ill beasts, gathering that which he had been instructed to. Years passed as he journeyed, and still he did not give up hope. In his time of trials as he came to call it, he was forged into a man, no longer was he merely one of many who loved a beautiful woman. Now he was one who knew why he loved, and what he would do to protect it.

He returned to the witch-woman, now aged and infirm, with his varied prizes. She smiled benevolently to him, telling him how she was so glad he had come. She took that which he had gathered, bits of all manner of things and beasts of power, Scales of a Dragon, Eyelashes of a Basilisk, Spines from a Manticore, Fur from a Unicorn, Dust of a Faerie, Egg of a Harpy, the list goes on and on... Carefully rising from her bed the old witch-woman set herself to preparing a spell for him, the greatest and most important of her life.

She mixed and chopped and chanted for days on end, stirring with a bit of this, adding a pinch of that at the proper time. All the years of her life pouring into a masterpiece. The Gallant chap waited patiently, not sleeping for as long as she worked, afraid that if he did he would miss the culmination of years of his life and his one chance at that which no one else had been able to claim, the hand of his dearest love.

Four days after she began she staggered and fell, surrounded by her work. The gallant chap tried deperately to catch her and gingerly gathered his in his arms and lay her gently upon her bed. "Are you alright? Is it finished?" She smiled up at him, "You are but one more journey away. I have aided you as I can." He was elated by the news, she lay her hand upon his head in benediction and he felt an immense power flow through him. He felt memories of lifetimes before his fill his mind and the power of many arms within his. He marveled at the sensation and looked down at the woman to thank her but she had already passed, that same serene smile gracing her wrinkled face.

He left her gently laid upon her bed, amidst all the things she'd loved in life and made haste toward his love, filled with a power he feared would not last the journey, but he felt warm reassurances within his mind, and his strength did not falter all the while.

Compared to his previous journeys this last one was the least exciting, and the shortest, indeed he remembered little of it in the years that followed, the miles melted away beneath him and he arrived at the prison of his love. His heart sang as he reached this his first step to achieving his one goal, that which had driven years of ceaseless searching. And he realized that he actually heard his heart singing.. The song was one of pure joy and love, it bouyed him even more and lightened the dimness of the forest around him.

He was greatly saddened as he encountered the first of many bodies surrounding the curious hill which rose amidst the trees. The more he passed the sadder he became and the greater the weight he seemed to bear. He saw nothing to bar his way, nor any foe to slay, but the weight and pain of all those lives cut short became almost more than he could bear. As he climbed the hill the distance seemed almost to grow before him, and his legs seemed to bear great weights instead of the lightness he had felt before. Surely this was more than any man could bear... had the witch woman's work faded too soon at last?

As soon as that thought touched his mind the weight he felt evaporated and his mind was once again clear. He sped his way up the hill, heartened once more and saw before him the vision of his love, standing forlornly upon the hill. He ran to her and hit an invisible barrier which formed a ring around her at the top of the hill. He pressed against it vainly seeking some way in but could find none. He circled to see the face of the Maiden and she seemed to look right through him, eyes unseeing... His heart sank again, surely she was well, why could she not see him? He cursed his fate and the failure of the magic of the witch woman and felt a chiding in his mind as the wall dissolved before his touch.

Blessing the witch woman to the highest heavens for her aid he quickly caught his love as she fell. He hugged her tenderly to his chest and sobbed with relief at finding her finally alive. She looked at him with a sadness which cut him to the core.. "They're all dead.. all dead for me.." Hush Darling, he told her, all is well now, the witch woman has helped me save you, I've spent all these long years searching for that which would help me rescue you...

A sadness which lingered filled her throughout her days, and she often gazed forlornly out across the land, tormented by the visions of those who had fallen on her behalf. Her beauty lasted ages without fading, serving only to remind her of the sacrifices of so many. The Gallant chap did all he could to lift her spirits, but in vain. And so the prophesy was fulfilled. They were wed and he took her to the most beautiful places he could find, ever seeking that which would heal her soul of it's torment.

That's why you see her gazing off like that atop the hill...

02/11/2004

Posted on 02/12/2004
Copyright © 2024 Leandra K Brossard