Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

◊ Prologue ◊

Long ago, the world was full of wonder...

It was adventurous, exciting, and best of all...there was MAGIC!

And that magic helped all in need...

But it wasn’t easy to master...

And so the world found a simpler way to get by...

Over time, magic faded away...

At least...that’s what it seemed...

As it turned out, with a tiny bit of hope, there was a little magic left in the most unexpected of places...

Once upon a time—in the fantastical, modern times—there were two teenage elf brothers who could not have been more different...

The older brother—Barley—was fascinated with the old days and was determined to keep the legacy of those old days alive—whether it was by protecting ancient fountains from their imminent doom and destruction, or by simply having the knowledge.

The younger brother—Ian—was NOT into the old days. Instead, he was sensible and awkward, and wanted nothing more than to survive high school. But he also wanted to be bold, just like his father—Wilden Lightfoot—who had passed away before he was born. Unlike his older brother, Ian never knew his dad, and wished that he could have had the chance to meet him. But that’s when the real magic happened...

On Ian’s sixteenth birthday, he and Barley were given a special gift from their late father. It contained a wizard staff, a rare and magical artifact called the Phoenix Gem, and a spell that would bring their dad back to life for a full twenty-four hours! But those weren’t the only things the Lightfoot brothers were gifted with that day...

Reciting the incantation for the spell out loud, Ian discovered that he possessed the magic gift necessary to perform the most magical of spells! So he, alone, was able to bring their father back to life!

Well...kinda.

Actually...just the lower half.

Since the spell lasted for one day and ONE DAY only, the brothers needed to find another Phoenix Gem in order to perform the rest of the spell. And so...THEY WENT ON A QUEST!

But like learning magic, it wasn’t easy...

Through it all, Ian and Barley sought out the mighty, but midlife crisis-filled Manticore, tangled with a group of gangster sprites, braved the dreaded Path of Peril, got chased by the cops, faced some deadly booby traps, and clashed with a great dragon assembled from a Guardian Curse!

It was the most epic quest they had ever dreamed!

And by the end of their journey, the quest was all that mattered...

Ian came to realize that while he never had a dad, he always had his older brother. And Barley had Ian.

And so...all was well, more or less...

Thanks to the brothers and their quest, magic was starting to return to their world again. The citizens of New Mushroomton witnessed what hadn’t been witnessed in centuries during that dragon battle, and were unsure what to do about it.

But Ian believed that with a little bit of magic in everyone’s lives, anyone could do almost anything. It had always been by their side, they just needed to be reminded of it. The young wizard had become more confident in himself and his abilities thanks to his and Barley’s quest, and felt like he was starting to become the new him that he had always wanted to be.

But is MAGIC all that it’s cracked up to be? Now that’s the question.

They say every story has a beginning and an end...

And that the ending grants everyone a happily ever after...

But sometimes, the ending is just the beginning...

◊ Chapter 1 ◊

A Mysterious Talisman

Dark gray clouds covered the sky as it rained heavily on a regular Sunday evening in New Mushroomton. There was recurring thunder, but nothing too serious. The city was as active as it normally would be during this time with families going out to dinner, groups of friends shopping around, people conducting errands, and businesses running as usual. Though the majority were indoors, either in buildings or in their cars, a few individuals could be seen on the street with their umbrellas. Overall, it seemed like this peaceful evening could get interrupted at any moment—and sure enough, it did.

On the busy corners of Mythril Street and Cauldron Road, a hooded figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and ran down the street past pedestrians. This individual was covered completely, looking more like a shadow than anything else.

Then—just moments later—emergency sirens were heard blaring, and as expected, police cars came around, following the mysterious runner.

In the lead of the pursuit was mustachioed centaur, Officer Colt Bronco. But instead of swerving in cars like his fellow cops, he was running with his own hooves—just like the criminal they were chasing! However, this criminal wasn’t a centaur like him. In fact, Colt and the other officers couldn’t tell what kind of creature this thief of theirs was—at least based on the abilities he was showing. All they knew was bright beams of light kept coming from the hood of the robed figure every couple seconds or so that made this particular species seem different from others. But that didn’t matter too much to Colt because his advantage as a centaur was being known since olden times to carry great speed. The officer had been embracing that fact ever since his stepson, Barley, reminded him of it. He was surely thankful to the nineteen-year-old elf for opening his eyes and his mind, especially now when this delinquent was getting away.

“We gotta catch him!” Colt said to his fellow officers. “This way!”

Local bystanders out on the street were startled if the felon and the police pursuing him happened to zoom by them. They were not expecting to be caught in the middle of some chase, particularly in the thundering rain.

The hooded figure himself was quite concealed under his mostly red and black attire. He wore a heavy, red robe—with a hood that completely covered the top of his head. A black mask that additionally covered the bottom half of his scaly face. Black gloves that protected his long four-fingered hands. Lastly, he had and black rubber shoes that proved in his own way that he was almost as substantial to run as the centaur—even when his feet touched the occasional puddle.

But soon Colt was right on the thief’s tail! He was about to grab the shoulder of the figure’s robe with his bare hand. That was, until he thought he heard a strange mumble come from the robed figure in question. The next thing the centaur officer knew, the thief had sped off like lightning—leaving behind a long, watery trail in the road! It splashed the cops—thus diverting them—but after shaking it off, they soon saw that their criminal had turned another sharp corner.

Despite the setback, the police continued to follow the path he’d left behind, but it didn’t last. In a matter of seconds, they’d found themselves in the middle of a typical four-way intersection, with no sign of the runner anywhere. They were left dead in their tracks.

“Which way did he go?” a troll cop asked his squad, popping his head out of the window of his cruiser.

Colt quickly looked around the area in front of them. Just standing there themselves, they were beginning to hold up traffic in the street. Finally, he made a decision.

The centaur turned back towards his team of officers and gave them their directions. “Officer Stumper, you go left,” he instructed to the troll, pointing left. Then he pointed in the opposite direction, “Officer Ward, you take the right.” Finally, Colt directed himself towards the road the police cars were facing, “and I’ll go straight!”

And with that, the team of officers split up as they continued to hunt down their thief.

Colt galloped straight down the street with all his might, determined to catch this thief and make him face justice in spite of the pouring rain clouding up his sunglasses. It seemed he had it lucky when—just a few kilometers away—there was the thief! Standing right before his eyes with the red robe, mask, gloves, and everything! He decided to radio the rest of his team.

“Ward! Stumper! I have our runner in my sights!” he exclaimed.

Seconds later, Colt got a response from Ward. “Impossible! He’s right here in front of me!”

Colt was confused. He and his colleague had gone in almost completely different directions. How could they both see this thief?

“What? Are you sure?” the skeptical centaur asked over the radio.

“Positive,” Ward responded back.

“I’ve spotted him, too!” Stumper added.

This only made the officers more baffled. Unless their paths were crossing—which they weren’t because all three of them knew the streets of New Mushroomton like the backs of their hands—then something strange was definitely going on here.

“Okay, either we’re all seeing things or there’s more than one of this guy!” Ward suggested with a hint of frustration in her voice to her fellow officers over the radio.

“Oh, what the rain can do to you...” a somber Stumper replied.

“Stay focused, everyone!” Colt advised. “If we’re all seeing this guy, we should all go after him! Let’s go!”

And so, each of the officers continued to pursue who they thought was their thief in the separate directions they were going. They just couldn’t let him get away with what he stole!

But said thief had run off, feeling confident that he’d lost his pursuers for good this time. He got what he wanted and that was all that had mattered to him.

Soon—just as the pouring rain had decided to take a break—he slid down a wide, grassy hill, and found himself in a large parking lot filled to the brim with cars. The thief knew he just had to find somewhere to hide until the police pursuit died down. So for the purpose of creeping around without getting noticed too much, he thought the automobiles were the perfect cover.

As he snuck in between the parked cars, the runner eventually stopped and squeezed himself in the middle of two of them, deciding to lay low and rest for a bit. He was feeling a little lightheaded after all that running, not to mention exhausted from some extra exertion he pulled off, and needed to collect himself. The thief crouched down and let out a huge sigh of relief. Then after removing his gloves, he reached through the side of his robe, and took out the relic he had just stolen. He held it lovingly in his exposed, dark green hands.

“At last, my powerful beauty...you are mine once again...” he said to himself with satisfaction as he grew a cheeky, sharp-toothed grin from underneath his mask.

What he held was a beautiful necklace, with a beautiful pendant that was about the size of a pocket watch. It was round in shape, mostly red, bordered with rims of gold. Surrounding the rims were accents of added gold, along with maroon and blue. The maroon and blue made squiggles on either side of each other that formed a circle within the circle of gold. On its side, the pendant was also red with another maroon and blue squiggle pattern. The back side of the pendant was just the same as the front. Finally, the pendant itself was held with a sturdy, black string. Overall, it was a true charm in the thief’s eyes.

“And now to turn—” he began to say.

But suddenly, a car right next to the hooded thief had its engine turned on, which made him jump in trepidation.

“Oh, Sparkle Sticks!” he exclaimed under his breath. Forced to move again, the raider put his treasure back inside his robe and began to run for it once more.

He ran across the parking lot, looking for another area within it to hide. But as the thief ran straight out into the road, he inadvertently got himself in front of cars in the lot that were either trying to get out or find a parking spot.

Each of these cars shined their bright headlights and honked their harsh horns loudly at the freakish person who was recklessly rushing out into the middle of the road. But their quick reactions were only bringing sensitivity to both his eyes and eardrums.

Rather than cower in pain, the thief ran away from its feedback so fast that he accidentally tripped on a crack in the asphalt. Falling face front, his necklace abruptly leaped out of his robe! It dropped to the ground, and—to his horror—began to slide down the road ahead of him.

“NOOOOO!” the thief cried, reaching out a desperate hand.

Without hesitation, he picked himself right up off the ground, and bolted straight after the pendant.

“Precious treasure, come back to me this instant!” he yelled as he ran after it. But like before, as he desperately sprinted, the thief kept running into brightly-lit, honking cars trying to get through the parking lot. All they did was slow him down even further, forcing him further away from his relic.

Soon the sliding pendant made its way out of the road and through another set of parked cars, eventually making a complete stop in between two automobiles—one of which was a highly refurbished van.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian and Barley Lightfoot walked in the parking lot over to Guinevere the Second. They had just spent their evening out together at the enormously twisted Labyrinth Mall, and were about to head home after having gotten dinner at the food court.

“Has thy appetite been satisfied, young mage?” Barley asked his younger brother.

“It most certainly has,” Ian answered.

Barley pressed the button on his keys to unlock Guinevere the Second, then he opened his door, and climbed in the driver’s seat.

Ian was about to get in, too, until he felt the tip of his shoe step on something. He looked down, and saw what appeared to be a pendant right at his feet. Curious, the teenage elf leaned down to pick it up. Luckily, his step didn’t break it—but it did look valuable.

“Huh? What’s this?” Ian wondered aloud to himself as he held the pendant in his hands.

He looked at it from all sides, taking in its fine details. He almost felt like its features were putting him in a trance, even though they weren’t really. Still, a part of Ian could sense there was something special about this pendant. For some reason, it didn’t seem that ordinary to him.

Just then, Barley honked Guinevere the Second’s horn, getting the attention of the younger Lightfoot.

“You comin’ in, little bro?” Barley asked with his arm on the wheel. “It’s starting to rain again.”

As soon as he said that, there was a small clap of thunder, which made Ian tilt his head up to the sky a little. He could see that the clouds were darkening—along with the darkening sky—and slowly moving towards the mall. Then there was an additional thunderclap. Another storm was approaching.

“Also wouldn’t want the thunder over yonder to hurt thee,” the older Lightfoot added with a tease.

Barley was right, because not only did Ian feel a few raindrops on his head and observe what he observed, but he also knew for a fact that it was definitely not a good idea to be outside in the thundering rain next to several metal cars—especially when he himself was holding something that seemed like metal.

“Oh, uh...y-yeah, coming!” Ian said nervously.

He looked at the pendant in his hand one more time. Then, with his other hand on the door handle, the younger elf quickly decided that he would bring it with him.

Meanwhile, the hooded figure finally approached the section of cars where his pendant had ended up, and as he did, he witnessed right away a teenager holding his treasure! His eyes grew furious while his sharp teeth made a growl. He couldn’t believe this elf boy felt it was just okay to pick up his prize like that and take it, without even considering that it belonged to someone—that someone being him! But he was also quick to notice the open van door next to the teenage elf, and an extra sting of panic flowed through his veins.

“Drat!” the thief shouted quietly.

Without a moment to lose, he got out another object from within his large red robe—a polaroid camera. Then without Ian noticing, the hooded figure shut one eye and snapped a quick picture of the teenage elf just as he got into the van. This way, the rogue could remember what his insubordinate interloper looked like.

Barley then started Guinevere the Second’s engine, and soon the brothers were out of the mall parking lot, and on their way home.

From the way Barley wildly drove his self-proclaimed mighty steed, it was too fast for the thief to follow—especially after all that running from the cops and those other cars just minutes ago. His energy was simply depleted.

But as the hooded figure watched the van drive away, he said to himself, “I’ve got to get my medallion back from that boy! But how?”

His thoughts were immediately interrupted when—with the addition of clapping thunder—rain instantly began to fall again. While taking the time to put his gloves back on his hands, the thief spotted a huge tree a couple feet away from where he was standing. He chose to hide under that instead of the difficult, hectic parking lot. As was now just proven, hiding in cars appeared to be too troublesome for his sake. He’d had enough of them for one evening. What was important to him now was finding that teenage elf boy who had just taken his valued relic away from him and get it back.

Once protected and hidden under the still tree, the thief resumed his thinking. His only clue to tracking his separated artifact—a clue which he himself had just made and held tightly in his fingers—was a photograph of the boy in question that captured his treasure. But as he looked closely at the photo and at Ian, the thief soon smiled evilly underneath his concealing drapes. He knew exactly what to do next.

◊ ◊ ◊

The rain continued pouring down hard as Ian and Barley rode in their van, Guinevere the Second. Lucky for them, she had windshield wipers strong enough to endure the powerful storm even as the evening sky continued to darken.

Sitting in the passenger seat next to Barley, Ian had resumed inspecting the pendant he had just found in the Labyrinth Mall’s parking lot. He had so many questions about it already. Like, where did it come from? Was there any specific reasoning for its choice of colors? What exactly was it made of? But above all, was it magical?

With magic having recently returned to modern life—thanks in part to him and Barley, no less—Ian felt like it could pop out from anywhere at any time, even from something as simple as a pendant. Soon he had all of these random questions bouncing around in his head that he wasn’t even listening to anything his older brother had to say. At the moment, Barley was telling the younger Lightfoot all about his latest Quests of Yore campaign.

“And so I tell Shrub, you can’t roll the twenty-sided die to determine whether you should pick a Gold Blossom or not, because you shouldn’t pick one, anyway! It’s bad luck!” he said, going on and on. “Leave nature in its nature, you know what I’m saying?”

As Barley glanced over at Ian, he realized that his younger brother wasn’t even paying attention. He could also tell that Ian was holding something in his lap.

“What’s that you’re holdin’ there, Sir Iandore?” he asked.

But still, Ian didn’t hear him. The younger elf was too focused on what he had. So Barley placed his right hand on his younger brother’s left shoulder, and shook him vigorously.

“IAN!” he shouted.

It was then that Ian finally snapped out of it. “Huh?” he said, then he realized that his brother was talking to him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Barley asked again in a singsong tone. He was very interested to know.

Ian was so lost in thought over this pendant that he only now remembered that he was sitting right next to an expert on anything and everything that was magic—including magical objects.

“Oh, uh...I don’t know,” Ian admitted, then he rotated the pendant piece in his hand. “I just...found it. In the parking lot.” He began to frown as he then added, “I don’t really know...what it is.”

“Then I shall look at it myself,” Barley said, pointing his index finger in the air, “once we halt at a red light.”

Ian smiled. He felt lucky to have a brother like Barley around, and it wasn’t just because the older elf knew all there was to know about magic.

It had been no more than six months since Ian’s sixteenth birthday, when he and Barley went on their renowned quest to bring the rest of their father back to life for a day. Each day since that adventure, Ian felt more and more grateful to have a figure like Barley in his life. He may have never had a dad, but his older brother had filled the gap, and was always there for him through his ups and downs.

And even though it scared him at first, Ian had also gotten used to having the magic gift, and entrusted Barley to help him further practice his skills. Although the younger Lightfoot was—without a doubt—a master wizard by the time he, Barley, their mother, and the Manticore had come up against the Curse Dragon, there was still a lot Ian wanted to learn about magic—and that included going through the spells that he didn’t get the chance to use on their quest. At the moment, he was particularly fond of the Summon Spell—which allowed him to summon any object he could see and want right to him. It was quite useful whenever he didn’t feel like getting something from the other side of a room—like a new pencil if his last one just so happened to snap.

By and large, magic had become a part of Ian’s life, as well as the lives of everyone else. It felt great—but it also came with responsibility and attention. Both his mother and Barley had reminded him on more than one occasion to not let magic go to his head, and to use it wisely and not for every single thing. To the younger elf, keeping that promise felt like a piece of cake. But even then, the very entity of a promise still weighed on his shoulders.

Deep down, Ian knew Barley would always stand by him no matter what from now until the end. He also knew that his brother would always have something new to teach him about the old days and magic. It was all so much and so dedicated that Ian didn’t know how to thank the older elf for everything he’d been given. So the younger Lightfoot made another promise for himself that he would return the favor for Barley at a time when his older brother needed him most. Ian wasn’t sure when that time would come, but he did know that it would come someday. He just knew it.

As soon as Guinevere the Second halted at the next red light, Barley was able to study the pendant without any distractions. So Ian gave it to him and like the younger elf had done a minute ago, Barley looked at it all over, scanning for clues to figure out what it could be. He searched long and hard in the limited time he had before the red light turned green. Once Barley was forced to drive again, he handed the pendant back to his younger brother.

“Well?” Ian asked in wonder as he took back the pendant. “What do you think it is?”

At first, Barley’s face read uncertainty, then he answered, “I don’t think that’s an ordinary pendant.”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked.

He was beginning to worry if what he had just found was dangerous—and hearing a single clap of thunder outside didn’t help much with the circumstance.

“I think it could be a talisman,” Barley suggested. But when he noticed the hint of concern on his younger brother’s face, he added with assurance, “that’s a good thing.”

That was enough to comfort the younger Lightfoot. In fact, Ian felt more than comforted—he was amazed. He then deduced that the pendant just had to be magical since that’s what talismans were—magical objects that brought great power to the user.

“I knew it,” Ian said, almost in a whisper, then he cleared his throat and spoke louder. “I-I mean, I had a feeling.” He began to play with his fingers. “But I didn’t want to draw any conclusions without asking you first...because...you have the best knowledge about these sorts of things.”

“Awwww, thanks, little bro.”

Ian could’ve sworn his older brother was blushing a little in the darkness of the van. But he knew how much Barley liked it when people took him seriously about his magic knowledge. So the younger elf figured he’d keep that feeling going by asking him more questions.

“So...what makes you think this is a talisman? I mean, what tells it apart from other necklaces?”

“For starters, it’s highly decorated and patterned,” Barley explained. “Some of the greatest talismans of yore have that level of ornamentation.”

Ian’s heart had begun to skip a beat. “Really? So...so does Quests of Yore have anything about this mysterious talisman?”

Barley wasn’t sure what to say next. He didn’t want to let his brother down, but he had no other choice. “Ehhh...I know the entire Quests of Yore guidebook cover to cover, and I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like that talisman in there.”

“Oh,” Ian said in disappointment. His hope had begun to dwindle. “Well, gee, I-I thought anything and everything magic was in that book.”

“Not necessarily,” Barley confessed. “That’s why I have several other books related to magic and the days of yore in case the Q of Y guidebook can’t do the job.”

“Then maybe they have an answer to this talisman! What its power is and-and what it can do!” Ian said excitedly, his spirits rising once again.

“Yeah, they could. But it could take forever to search through them all,” Barley said half-heartedly. But then, just as there was another clap of thunder, a light bulb went off in his head. “Wait...what are we thinking? This is becoming a quest, isn’t it?!”

Ian hadn’t quite thought of that, but he was already liking the sound of it. After all, this talisman was starting to make him really curious.

“I mean, it-it could be,” he said, cracking a smile.

“And you know all quests start...” Barley began.

Then both brothers said in unison, “AT THE MANTICORE’S TAVERN!”

Once more, a thunderclap arrived on cue.

“Precisely, my mage,” Barley said, snapping his fingers. “We’ll just go to the Manticore and ask her about it.”

“Yeah!”

Ian grinned from ear to ear. He thought that was a brilliant idea. After all, it was the Manticore who had sent him and his brother on their path to locate the rare Phoenix Gem. But suddenly, the younger elf remembered something important.

“But wait...didn’t Mom say that the Manticore was out of town this week for, uh...oh, what was it, uh...for this urgent, top secret council meeting with other legendary figures of old or something?”

In an instant, Barley’s face fell. “Aw, Chantar’s Talon!” he realized, “I forgot...” The older Lightfoot took a moment for that catch to seep into his head, but then he thought of something that to him seemed just as important. “But come to think of it, why weren’t we invited to this so-called week-long meeting? After all, you’re a master wizard, I’m a brave warrior. Why couldn’t we come?!”

“Because I have school, and Mom said that this meeting was exclusively for people who had lived during the old days—and that includes the Manticore.”

“Oh...right.” Barley was remembering that conversation now, but then he fumed up. “But still, that’s so unfair, though! As the brave and mighty warrior that saved the Fountain of Fortune from its impending doom—thanks to my underappreciated knowledge of the past—I know more about the old days than anyone! I would fit right in!”

“Yes, Barley, you’ve told that story, like, a thousand times now,” Ian said flatly. “But can we please get back to figuring out how we’re going to get information on this talisman?”

Barley sighed. “I’m sorry, Ian, but it looks like we’re going to have to wait until the Manticore gets back.”

Ian was stunned. Was his brother really giving up that easily? This seemed so unlike him.

“What? Why? We could still learn about this talisman on our own, can’t we? F-from your books?”

“We could, but...there’s just so many,” Barley said, shaking his head, “and the Manticore just has the thirst for adventure!” He made the “thirst for adventure” part sound mighty and medieval.

“I know, but...need I be the one to remind the both of us that on a quest, the clear path is never the right one?”

This made Barley gaze at Ian in small amazement. Even months after their quest for the Phoenix Gem, his younger brother still knew that crucial motto by heart.

“You say all quests start at the Manticore’s Tavern,” Ian continued, “but what if this one didn’t? We have to use what we’ve got, and right now, we’ve got your books about magic.”

Barley thought about this for a moment, until finally, he said, “normally, I’d say that’s cowardly on your part, Sir Iandore. But...I guess you’re right.” He then gave his younger brother a resigned smile.

“Really?” Ian said, widening his eyes. He was surprised that even worked. “Well, I mean, I-I was just thinking...w-we were on our way home, anyway. Th-that’s where your books are, a-and it’s really getting stormy out here, and—”

“Are you still scared of thunderstorms?” Barley teased.

“What? No!” Ian flustered, then he crossed his arms. “I haven’t been scared of thunderstorms since I was six. Ten years ago.”

“All right, all right! I get you. But fear not! Like the great pegasus before her, Guinevere the Second is made to brave any stormy weather,” the older elf said with pride as he gave the van’s dashboard a tender rub.

“That’s a relief,” Ian said, his tension easing.

“But man! I really wanted to go see the Manticore!” Barley moaned, pounding his fist on the wheel.

“Yeah, me too,” Ian solemnly agreed.

He could tell that his brother still wasn’t fully convinced with his idea of checking the books. The younger elf figured there had to be some added way to smooth out this plan. After a moment of thinking, another idea hit him.

“I’ve got it! Maybe what we could do is get some general background on this talisman for now, then once the Manticore comes back, we can ask her for more specific information on anything we find that’s hidden, smudged, or whatever. That’s bound to come up at some point once we start looking.”

“Smudged?” Barley said, appalled. “But they’re my books!”

“Exactly. They’re your books,” Ian said as he gave his older brother a knowing look.

“So?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” Ian said with sarcasm. “You’re so into Quests of Yore most of the time that your other books have probably been left in the dust for what...one, two, er...maybe three—”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, young mage!” Barley said, slightly annoyed, but this only made Ian giggle in amusement.

“So, what do you think?” Ian asked, trying to contain his laughter. But he was also still uncertain as to what his brother would say.

“Yeah, I could work with that,” Barley answered. “It may not be how the traditional quest begins, but hey, I’ll take it ’cause you’re my brother.”

He then playfully punched Ian in the arm, which made his younger brother laugh a little more.

“Thanks, Barley,” Ian said, then he looked at the talisman in his hands again. “It’s worth a shot.”

Soon Barley steered Guinevere the Second onto their street and into their family driveway. Then he switched the gearshift from O for “Onward!” to P for Park. The Lightfoot brothers were home.

It was still pouring as they both got out of the van, but despite that, the front door wasn’t far. So the brothers decided to brace the torrential rain that was coming down upon them as they walked towards their house.

“As of now, this quest begins with us,” Barley declared as he put an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders. He was beginning to feel the same excitement he felt on quests once again. “You and me, Sir Iandore, to discover the secret of this talisman...together!”

“Yes...together,” Ian echoed with a smile as he too put an arm around Barley’s shoulder.

Then the two brothers escaped the pouring rain, and entered their cozy mushroom home.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 2 ◊

A New Quest Beginneth

“Dear mother, we hath returned!” Barley called as he opened the front door.

As he and Ian stepped through, their mother, Laurel, was in the living room watching TV. Hearing them come in, she decided to turn it off and welcome her two teenage sons back from their evening out. Noticing her walk towards them, a panicked Ian swiftly hid the talisman behind his back with one hand.

For a quick second, Barley noticed this and asked his brother in a whisper, “what are you doing?”

“I thought you said this was only for us,” Ian whispered back.

Barley didn’t want to get into a whisper argument with his younger brother over a misunderstanding and make their mother suspicious. So he decided not to say anything yet as she came directly over to them.

“Ah, boys, you’re finally back!” Laurel said with relief. “I can see you’re both wet from your journey out. It’s really pouring out there.” As if she’d asked for it, the thunder chimed in once more. “And thundering...”

“Ah, we could take it,” Barley said, “right, Sir Iandore?”

“Quite right, Sir Barley,” Ian said with a wink.

All three Lightfoots giggled at the brothers’ medieval speech. It made the idea of heavy rain outside seem not so bad after all.

“So, how was the mall?” Laurel asked.

“We mostly just walked around,” Ian answered.

“More like wandered around,” Barley added. “I mean, come on, you can tell that the mall used to be a labyrinth—what with all its twists and turns! It practically took us forever to find the food court!”

“But then I was reminded of the Direction Spell. So I cast it, then we got to the court—and out of the mall—in no time.”

“It was awesome!” Barley proclaimed as he began to mess with Ian’s curly blue hair.

Ian was once again in the predicament of trying to contain his laughter as his older brother playfully messed around with him as usual.

“Barley, cut it out! I’m ticklish, you know!” he cried.

Unfortunately, Ian was so ticklish that the hand behind his back was on the brink of letting go of the talisman!

To make matters even more interesting, the Lightfoots’ domesticated pet dragon—Blazey—came running down the main stairwell to do what she did best: tackle Ian to the ground!

In the nick of time, Ian noticed each event happening simultaneously. So with fast thinking, he used his back hand to toss the talisman over to Barley before Blazey immediately attacked him with slobbery kisses.

Putting his own hand behind his back, Barley caught the talisman, and held it tight.

“Blazey! Down!” Laurel commanded as the dragon continued to lick all over Ian’s face.

With his mother distracted, Barley carefully placed the talisman in the pocket of his vest. Then putting both his hands behind his back again, he began to dart his eyes and whistle nonchalantly.

Ian continued to laugh wholeheartedly as Blazey gave him some of her dragon love. “Aw, look who missed me while I was gone!” the younger elf said with affection. “Who’s a good girl? You are!”

Laurel couldn’t help but laugh devotedly at the interaction herself. But she also knew Blazey could get too out of control at any moment.

“I’ll get the spray bottle,” she said.

“No need, Mom. I’ve got a head full of wet hair,” Ian said as he shook his head vigorously in front of their pet dragon.

Just as he’d figured, Blazey was completely taken aback by this surprise water attack that she forced herself to flee to her dragon lair. With that resolved, Ian got back up on his feet and brushed himself off.

“Seems like you’ve got yourself a huge fan,” Laurel teased her younger son, while Barley gave Ian a pat on the back.

“Yeah, I-I guess I do,” Ian agreed with a nervous chuckle. “But really, escaping the mall was no big deal.”

“If it’s magic, then of course it’s a big deal!” Barley said, denying Ian’s modesty. “I was thinking they should really put outfits from the old days on display in the clothes stores. You know...to get people excited about the return of magic! I mean, what’s a mall that was once a labyrinth without some blast from the past action, am I right?”

“So like one of those throwback trends?” Laurel asked.

“Something like that.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Ian concurred.

“So...boys, what are you up to now?” their mother asked, changing the subject. She looked at the time on her smartphone. “It’s now almost eight,” she confirmed, then she turned to her younger son, “which means, Ian, you have school tomorrow, and I would like you to be in bed no later than ten, okay?”

Ian processed what time he had left for the rest of the evening. From eight to ten, that meant he and Barley had just two hours to get started on their talisman research before he had to turn in for the night. That seemed like a fair, reasonable amount of time to begin a new quest—what with still having the life of a regular teenager, after all.

So the younger elf nodded and said, “okay. Barley and I were just gonna go to his room and look up something that isn’t in the Quests of Yore guidebook that we think might be in one of his other books.”

“Sounds good,” Laurel said, content. “I’m going to finish loading the dishes, and then see if I can get a hold of Colt. He hasn’t been answering all night, and his shift is supposed to be done by now.”

“Maybe something important came up,” Barley suggested.

“Perhaps, but...we’ll see. Anyways, I’ll leave you guys to your research now. Have fun!”

And with that, Laurel headed towards the kitchen. Then it was just Ian and Barley at the front entrance of the Lightfoot home now. They both sighed quietly in relief.

“Nice catch,” Ian said to his brother, acknowledging the talisman that was now cleverly hidden in Barley’s pocket.

“Anything for you, young mage,” the older elf said with a wink. “But let us go! For we have a talisman to research!”

And so, with their time rapidly counting down, the Lightfoot brothers set forth to Barley’s basement bedroom immediately to begin their quest for the talisman.

◊ ◊ ◊

“That’s a LOT of books, Barley,” Ian said.

The older Lightfoot was not kidding when he told his younger brother that he had several other books about the old days and magic. In fact, all of the books in Barley’s room were books about the old days and magic. Ian was in complete awe just from looking at Barley’s entire bookshelf. It wasn’t huge, but it managed to squeeze every single book in the yore-obsessed elf’s collection.

Still, Ian’s head began to spin a little. “Where do we even start?”

“We start with the least obvious path, of course!” Barley said with confidence.

He walked right over to the packed shelf and picked the first book he laid his eyes on, then gestured for Ian to do the same.

“This talisman could be anywhere, even in the most unexpected place,” the older elf continued as he sat himself down on his bedroom floor with his book. “Even books have their indirect routes. You just never know where they’ll take you once you start reading.”

“Yeah, been there, done that,” the younger elf said.

Once Ian leaned in and grabbed a book from Barley’s shelf, he joined his brother on the bedroom floor.

“So, if you or me find anything interesting, we should trust our guts and go for it,” the older Lightfoot concluded as he began to read.

“Sounds good to me,” Ian said as he too opened the first book he saw on Barley’s shelf, but then he realized, “oh, and, uh...Barley, it’s you or I, not you or me.”

“Whatever,” the older elf said, nowhere near ashamed of his poor grammar at the hands of his immaculate younger brother.

Soon both Ian and Barley had their eyes glued to the pages of their books, and the bedroom fell silent. Not even the storm outside could be heard.

The younger Lightfoot had never taken a peek in any of the books Barley owned because they had never interested him before. But just because it looked like his brother had a ton of books, he figured that didn’t mean Barley had glanced in them before, either.

While the older Lightfoot hadn’t flipped through the pages of these books since what seemed like forever—as Ian had already pointed out—compared to any great apprentice, mage, or wizard of old, Barley had faith that these books would have the answers that he and Ian were searching for—at least until they could get a hold of the Manticore and her trusted, expanded knowledge.

But as he was reading, Barley had a thought lurk in his mind.

“Hey...why didn’t you want to tell Mom about the talisman?” he asked his younger brother.

Ian paused his own reading at the sound of his brother’s question. “I mean, I kinda told her,” he said.

But glancing over at Barley, he could tell that the older elf wasn’t convinced.

Peering down, Ian sighed. “I don’t know...” he admitted. “I just...this talisman could be dangerous! We have no idea what it does, or-or what it’s capable of, and I just...I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, that’s all.”

“Fret not, good sorcerer,” Barley assured. “The chance of any talisman being dangerous is one in a million. Powerful, yes, but not dangerous.”

“I know, but still...” Ian said, unsure. “I just feel like we shouldn’t bring it up to her until we find something first.”

After a moment of thought, Barley said quietly, “fair enough, Sir Iandore.” Then he and his brother continued reading.

By the time a half hour had almost passed, both Ian and Barley had gone through the books they were each looking at from beginning to end in search of the mysterious talisman. But neither book had anything on it. So they both tried two different books, knowing full well that hope wasn’t lost just yet.

As Ian was looking through a book called, The Untold Tales of Giants, he came across a page that put a smug look on his face.

“Hey, Barley, you know I would hate to tell you that I was right, but...I was right.”

“About what?” Barley asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

“About this.”

Ian showed off the page he was just looking at to his older brother. It contained a visible coffee stain right on top of a picture depicting a group of giants caging defenseless griffins.

“I told you your books would have smudges in them.”

Barley felt an epic wave of nostalgia pass through him, but at the same time, he was somewhat offended by this accusation his brother was making.

“Okay, in my defense, that happened because that was when I drank coffee for the first time!”

“Hardy, har har,” Ian teased.

Afterwards, he looked past the stain, and focused on what was truly important on his and Barley’s new quest—finding out what it was the talisman he’d just found could do, and who it belonged to among other things.

But with each book, there seemed to be nothing that led to this particular talisman—at least not yet. Even still, Ian was starting to get the feeling that this research was not going to be as easy as he thought.

As both brothers were knee-deep into what had to be their fifth or sixth books, there was a knock on Barley’s bedroom door. The teenage elves gazed up from their reading, and eyed the top of the stairs.

“THOU MAY ENTER!” Barley shouted in his medieval voice.

The door opened, and Laurel poked her head inside.

“Heads-up, boys! It’s almost ten,” she said.

Ian’s face fell. It was almost ten o’clock, already? He felt like he and Barley had just started looking! It was amazing how fast time flew by, especially when it came to anything related to magic. But despite wanting more time to search, Ian didn’t want to put up an argument with his mother. He thought that was no way to end a perfectly good weekend.

So he simply called back to her, “okay, I’ll be up in a sec!”

Laurel left the door open as Ian stood up from his brother’s bedroom floor. After stretching for a couple seconds, he decided to bookmark the page he was just on in the book he was currently reading by folding the top corner of the page. He figured Barley wouldn’t mind.

“So, what should we do with the books we’ve already looked through?” Ian asked.

“Let’s put them in a pile right here,” Barley answered, placing the book he was just reading on the left side of his bookshelf.

After putting his share of the books in the pile, Ian glanced over at Barley's bookshelf, and sighed.

“We haven’t even gone through a whole row yet,” he noticed glumly.

“Patience, Sir Iandore,” Barley persuaded him. “Besides, this means more opportunity for us to keep looking tomorrow.”

“True, but...I have school tomorrow. That’s why we’re taking this halt in our search now.”

“Ah, yes, what a prestigious obstacle that is,” the older elf said, placing a hand on his chin.

Ian thought about it, then an idea came to his mind. “New Mushroomton High has a library, though! And it probably has some books about magic and the days of yore...I could look there...if you want.”

“That’s brilliant!” Barley said excitedly. “We’ll be able to cover twice as much ground! And get twice as much information!”

“I mean, it depends if I find anything...but it’s worth a try! Of course, this probably means you’re mostly gonna have to look through the rest of these books by yourself tomorrow.” The younger elf sighed once more, he really didn’t want to force this much work on his brother. “I really wish I could help.”

“Eh, it’s cool. Nothing ventured, nothing gained from a little reading, that’s for sure.”

“Well...okay, then! It’s settled. We’ll each resume our research tomorrow,” Ian said, no longer uncertain, then he picked up the pendant that was lying next to him on the floor. “In the meantime, I’ll keep the talisman safe in my room upstairs. Unless...you want to keep it?”

“Oh, no, no! You can take it,” Barley offered. “After all, it was thee who discovered this great, mysterious talisman.”

The older Lightfoot then bowed before the younger Lightfoot in honor.

“Oh, uh, gee, uh...thanks,” Ian said with a grin, then he started for the basement stairs. “Well, goodnight, Sir Barley.”

“Fare-thee-well, Sir Iandore!” Barley called to Ian as his younger brother charged up the stairs. “Hope thou hath sweet dreams!”

Once Ian was out of Barley’s room, the older elf decided to get ready for bed himself. It was getting late, even for him.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian entered his bedroom, and placed the talisman on top of his desk. Then he changed out of his damp clothes, and into pajamas.

After brushing his teeth, the teenage elf considered following his mother’s orders, and going straight to bed on this ongoing stormy night. But then he found himself glancing over at the talisman again. It was just sitting there like any other object in his room. But everytime Ian looked at it, even from a distance, he felt like it was calling to him, telling him: find my destiny, learn my secret, feel my power. So he decided to go over and sit at his desk for a moment with the talisman. He picked it up, and rotated it, gazing at its magnificence once more. Then, out of further curiosity, Ian shrugged his shoulders and decided to put it around his neck just to know what it was like to wear it. It was a necklace, after all.

But when he did just that, the younger Lightfoot suddenly felt a strong and unusual chill go right up his spine! It went straight to his head and into his eyes, which were then clouded for a split second by a powerful, white glow! It was a sensation like that that jerked him up from his chair and caused him to almost slip as soon as he could see again.

“Whoa!” Ian said out loud. “Wh-what was that?”

Now hyperventilating, the young wizard lifted up the pendant, then used his hands to feel himself. Somehow, in his own mind and body, Ian still felt like his normal self, but he also knew from what he was feeling inside that that didn’t mean there wasn’t something different about him. For some reason, the chill he was sensing and the eye glow that just happened gave him the feeling that he had gotten charged up or something. It was a feeling that told him what he was wearing was indeed no ordinary necklace. It was most definitely a talisman! One with great power. Yet he still had no idea what its power could be. He thought it could be absolutely anything, or everything for that matter. But to know its power, the teenage elf knew he just had to understand how this talisman worked. But how?

Ian chose not to overthink it. Not this late at night, anyway. Besides, he was researching this with Barley. It was—without question—for the best not to get ahead of his older brother.

So the younger elf removed the talisman from his neck, and in an instant, the chill he was feeling was gone. It seemed to only be around when he wore the talisman around his neck. He figured that was one way it could be activated: by simply putting it on oneself. But what else could it do to a person? Or for the person? Once more, Ian figured there was no more time to think about it at the moment. Not when he had school in the morning.

He decided to open his desk drawer, and put the talisman inside—right next to the audio tape of his father. The younger Lightfoot took his eyes off the pendant and laid them on the tape for a moment. He just knew without thinking about it too much that his dad would be so proud of him and Barley for finding an unknown magical relic. It was another thing their world needed for magic to really spread its wings once again.

Since Ian was already a wizard, perhaps whatever power this talisman had would be useless to him, and was rather more useful for someone like Barley who didn’t have the magic gift. On the plus side, it was definitely magical. It just had to be based on how it looked and what it felt like.

No matter how hard he tried, Ian couldn’t stop himself from having these growing thoughts as he closed his desk drawer, turned off his light, and got into his bed. No matter what it took, he was going to find out the secret of this talisman. That was a promise.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 3 ◊

School of Thought

It was a brand new day. The rainy thunderstorm had finally ceased, and it was now a bright and sunny Monday.

As the morning sun rose up from the distant horizon, Ian groggily woke up to his beeping alarm. Much to his annoyance, he knew exactly what this meant—that it was time to get up and go back to school today. The teenage elf knew full well what he would much rather be doing. But regardless, he and his older brother had their plan set in motion for how they would carry on with their talisman research.

Since Barley was still taking his gap year—and therefore didn’t go to school—he would continue to check every book he had about magic and the days of yore on his own in hopes of finding any clues about the talisman and its nature.

In the meantime, Ian would consult New Mushroomton High’s library and see if any of their books had information on the mystical relic. Despite not wanting to wake up, the younger Lightfoot decided to leave for school early to do just that before he had to go to his classes today.

Opening his desk drawer, Ian thought about bringing the talisman with him. But after trying it on last night—feeling that outlandish chill, then watching his eyes glow white—the younger elf believed walking around and wearing it would be precarious. Especially since he and Barley still had no idea what one could possibly do while wearing it. The pendant also looked quite valuable and precious all by itself. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to it.

So Ian decided to leave the talisman behind in his drawer, and take it out again after school when he and Barley met back in the older elf’s bedroom to report their findings. Plus, if it turned out Barley found something and needed to see the talisman, the younger Lightfoot figured his brother would know exactly where to find it. Barley was usually one to steal stuff from him every once in a while. But luckily, Ian had surveyed the talisman long enough in the last twelve-ish hours to have a clear image of it in his head. So if there was the fortunate chance that he found a picture of it in any book, he’d be able to recognize it right away.

After quickly getting dressed and packing his things for the day, Ian raced down the stairs and grabbed a quick breakfast from the kitchen. A piece of toast in his mouth, he scanned around the first floor area of the house, looking for Barley. He just had to tell his brother about what had happened before bed last night! But the younger elf couldn’t find him. So he returned to the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom, is Barley up yet?” Ian asked his mother, who had just finished making herself a protein shake.

“I don’t think so, sweetie. Why?”

“Oh, uh...there’s-there’s just something I really need to tell him, but...”

Ian glanced behind him at the basement room door—which he now realized was closed—then he rolled up his sweatshirt sleeve and looked at his watch. If he wanted to make time for research before class, he had to leave now.

“Eh, I’ll just tell him later. I’m heading out now.”

“Wow, already? That’s early for you, mister.”

But Ian had put on his backpack and was already walking backward towards the front door. “Yeah, well...gotta...gotta get back on the grind. What better way to do that than to get a head start?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Laurel said, smiling, then watching her son leave the house, she waved and said, “have a great day!”

“You too!”

After closing the door behind him, the younger Lightfoot was off.

◊ ◊ ◊

With his own two feet and a hopeful attitude, Ian rushed over to his high school, intent on getting as much talisman research done as he could. Despite the challenge of avoiding puddles as a result of last night’s storm, the teenage elf preferred walking to school on nice days like today. New Mushroomton High wasn’t far from his house, and it was his chance to get some sun and fresh air before being forced inside a building for seven hours.

Once he found himself right outside said academic building, with people coming and going at their leisure, Ian decided to sit down on the front steps for a moment of rest and get out his trusty notebook. He opened it to a blank page and began to write his daily to-do list with his multicolored pen.

But as Ian wrote in his pad of paper, he suddenly got a bad feeling that something—or someone—was watching him. He looked up at the view in front of him to make sure, but no one was there—at least, no one who looked like they were staring at him or didn’t belong.

There were students and teachers walking towards the school. Groups of friends hanging out on the front and side lawns. People taking their dragons out for early morning strolls. Cars and buses on the road. And across the road was the famous fountain that ended up holding the Phoenix Gem that he and Barley needed to resurrect the rest of their father. It was also the same fountain that his history-loving brother tried to save from destruction, which happened to hold the curse that ended up destroying the facade of New Mushroomton High. Thankfully, Ian was able to fix it back up with the help of his magic and Barley, and since then, everything at his school had returned to just about normal. And it seemed like everything was normal at this moment as well.

Still, the young wizard couldn’t help but feel something strange around him. He didn’t believe it was the curse coming back to haunt him, that was definitely long gone. For all he knew, it was probably just nerves. Ian had become fairly well-known since that incident. But more importantly, he was about to resume investigating an unknown talisman with possible great power, and didn’t necessarily want other people to know about it yet. That’s when the teenage elf decided that perhaps being out in the open wasn’t such a good idea after all. Plus his list ended up not being that long, anyway.

So Ian used the railing next to the front steps of the school to help himself up. Then with his bag and notebook, he charged up the steps and went inside the building.

◊ ◊ ◊

Walking down the halls towards the library—passing by students hanging out at lockers, others bopping to music, and more walking through the corridors themselves—Ian ran through his to-do list again. It read:

• Go to school library
• Find information on talisman
• Study for science quiz
• Share findings with Barley

Soon Ian found himself in front of his school’s library, meaning he could automatically check the box next to “go to school library” before pushing the doors open and heading inside.

He figured looking in the ancient history section would be the best place to start. The talisman did, after all, look very ancient. So the teenage elf went over there and ran his index finger across multiple books. He also took Barley’s advice from last night and grabbed three random books to start with, then set them and himself down at a table. He began skimming through one book, then the next, and the last one.

There’s got to be something in these books about this talisman, Ian thought as he searched through what he believed were the most relevant pages in the ones he chose.

When none of the books came up with anything about it, he swapped them out with three new ones and continued looking. Some of the books Ian found didn’t even have pictures in them, which made him realize something important.

I wonder if this talisman even has a name, he thought some more, it would certainly make this research a whole lot easier.

But since Ian didn’t have a name for it, he could only take heed to the advice of a true adventurer and use what he had—which, unfortunately, wasn’t much. Just the image of the talisman in his head, and the fact that he felt a strange chill go up his spine and his eyes glow all white when he put it on around his neck. So Ian searched for the talisman’s physical description of “red, gold, and blue,” along with other keywords like, “chill,” “power up,” and “wear it to activate it” with each book. But all and through, he still couldn’t find anything useful—and it began to frustrate him.

Ian’s concentration was entirely in the research zone that when he heard the ringing of the first bell, he felt totally interrupted and even more frustrated. Like last night, all he wanted was to keep looking until he found something, anything on this talisman. But since the school bell pretty much told him that his time was up for now, he was forced to stop, again—whether he had something to report back to Barley or not.

The younger Lightfoot hated to admit it, but he believed he didn’t get anywhere with this research. Skimming through each book, it seemed as though he kept on reaching more dead ends than open passages. At first, Ian found what appeared to be a page full of great information, but then he realized the further down he read that it had absolutely nothing to do with this particular talisman at all. Since magic in the realm was—for a long time—considered to be outdated and defunct, it really shouldn’t have surprised him that he couldn’t find any information about this obscure magical object. So the elf wizard put the books he’d just read back on the shelves and left for his first period class, which was—of all subjects—history.

Making his way over, Ian wished his history class focused more on the distant past when magic was around 24/7. That way, he could learn even more about how to truly master his own magic, and what to watch out for in terms of threats—like the Curse Dragon he’d fought six months ago. But ever since that happened, history class seemed to be steering away from that sort of thing. The teenage elf didn’t really know why. All he knew was that it wasn’t up to him. Besides, he figured he’d done enough for New Mushroomton High by putting it back together. He didn’t feel the need to do anything else. For the moment, he would try to keep his mind away from the talisman, and focus on what was truly important until the school day was over.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian entered his history classroom just as the bell rang once more. He walked over to his seat, where his group of friends since his sixteenth birthday were there waiting for him.

Each of his five friends stood out in their own way.

First, there was Kagar—who was already close friends with Ian before the elf wizard went on the quest that changed his life. He was an easygoing satyr, not to mention a funny jokester.

Next, there was Sadalia, an elf who considered herself to be a serious student journalist. She also happened to be the lead reporter for the school newspaper, The Fortnightly Dragon.

Then there was Althea, a cyclops, who was a dedicated—but usually dramatic—actress.

Sitting at the front was Parthenope—the second satyr of the group—who was cheery, but also very studious.

Finally, there was Gurge, a troll who looked lazy on the outside, but was very wise on the inside.

Ian was happy to have friends like them in his life now. They were nice, friendly, and absolutely loved his talent for magic. He wholeheartedly joined them with a smile on his face.

“Hey, guys!” the elf wizard said as he put his backpack down and took his seat.

“Oh, hey, Ian,” said Parthenope. “How was your weekend?”

In an instant, the talisman flashed back into Ian’s mind. But still determined to keep himself from thinking about it, he said, “eh, it was okay. Nothing too exciting.”

Althea, however, didn’t buy it. “Really?” she said. “For someone who can do magic with a trusty wizard’s staff, I’m surprised.”

Ian laughed nervously and responded, “w-well, uh, a wizard is allowed to be chill once in a while, right?”

“Of course,” Gurge agreed.

But Sadalia’s keen journalism eye noticed something fishy. “Hey, Ian, where is your wizard staff? Don’t you always carry it with you?” she asked.

The rest of the friend group—except Kagar—began to notice, too, and wondered the same thing.

“You haven’t shown them yet?” the satyr asked Ian, stunned.

Suddenly, Ian did remember something else he did this weekend. He’d completely forgotten about it because he had already gotten used to it. Plus his mind had been focused on the talisman, anyway.

“Oh, don’t worry, guys, it’s right here,” Ian said, proudly pointing to his chest.

But his friends were still confused.

“Uh, in your heart?” Gurge asked.

Ian looked down at his orange sweatshirt and realized that what he was trying to show his friends was still hidden inside his clothes.

“Oh, whoops,” he said while nervously laughing some more.

Reaching a hand into the collar of his sweatshirt, Ian pulled out what appeared to be a chain necklace around his neck, and at its center was his wizard staff—only it was shrunken down.

“Aww, your staff is so tiny! So cute!” Parthenope gushed as she finally got a real answer to her weekend question.

“Yeah, I thought with how much space it takes up that it would be less conspicuous if I shrunk it down and wore it wherever I go,” a self-assured Ian said as he held the end piece of the necklace.

“That’s so cool!” Sadalia said in awe.

“I know, right?” Kagar agreed. “I watched him and Barley test it out on Saturday. It was awesome!”

“All I had to do was reverse-engineer the Growth Spell, and I got my staff to be as small as a splinter,” Ian explained with confidence. “So now, if I want to do some magic, I can take the splinter off the chain, recite the Growth Spell, and I have my wizard staff all ready to go.”

As he described his process, the elf wizard showed his friends how he removed his splinter-sized staff from the chain, and held it up for them all to see. They were all amazed at the sight of the magical splinter.

“That’s a clever idea, Ian,” Althea said with enthusiasm.

“Thanks,” Ian said as he reattached the tiny staff to the chain, then he looked down at it with a frown. “But I guess the real reason I decided to make this necklace was so I don’t expose myself too much as a wizard. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I-I love having the ability to do magic! It’s just...I don’t want to attract any unwanted attention.”

Ian’s friends looked at each other with concern. But their wizard friend had more to say.

“’Cause before, whenever I walked around carrying my staff, people would instantly recognize me as the Wizard Guy or that teenage elf who can do magic,” he explained solemnly. “It’s nice to be appreciated, really, but...to be honest...it’s getting kinda overwhelming. There are just some days where...I still want to be the kid that no one notices, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Sadalia said. “You don’t want to be overloaded with starstruck paparazzi all the time, that’s for sure—like after the quest you went on with Barley.”

Sadalia totally got Ian. He nodded somewhat vigorously as he said, “yes, exactly!”

“Well, celebrity wizard or not, you’re still our friend,” Kagar assured.

“Yeah, we won’t get all starstruck or constantly ask to take a selfie with you, promise,” Althea added, while Parthenope and Gurge nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” Ian said with a grin, then he clasped both of his hands over his tiny staff. “That really means a lot to me.”

“Hey, no problem, Ian,” Parthenope said with an easygoing attitude. But then she looked around the classroom, and subsequently glanced at the clock on the wall. Now growing anxiety, she asked her friends, “say, where’s Ms. Traven? I think class was supposed to start five minutes ago.”

All six teenagers looked at the time. It was 8:05 a.m. Parthenope was right. Their teacher was late.

Gurge laid back in his seat as if the situation were no big deal. “Eh, maybe she decided it was still the weekend and is chilling in bed—which is where I’d rather be right now...”

“Same,” Kagar agreed.

“Well, you know the rule...if it gets to be 8:15, we can just leave!” Ian chimed in, a part of him wanting that to happen.

If his first period class was a study hall, then he could have more time to research the talisman. But only in the event that a teacher failed to show up.

“I wish,” Gurge said sadly. “That hardly ever happens.”

“Maybe today will be different,” Sadalia said with optimism.

“I hope not!” Parthenope protested. “I was really looking forward to her lesson on what New Mushroomton was like during the Golden Age! It may not have been far enough back for magic to be around all the time, but it was still a trendy period.”

Suddenly, the double doors of the classroom burst open, and it made every student jump. It made Ian jump enough to put his wizard staff necklace back under his sweatshirt.

Parthenope let out a sigh of relief. At last, Ms. Traven was here to take her students back in time to the Golden Age of New Mushroomton. But the satyr’s elation soon turned to disappointment when the class witnessed who actually came through the doorway.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 4 ◊

Mr. Vance

A blue elf carrying a laptop at his side walked into the classroom, and made his way over to Ms. Traven’s desk. He was tall and youthful, possibly in his late twenties or early thirties. He also had spiky blue hair with dyed streaks of shiny blond, wore a pair of black rectangular glasses in front of pale green eyes, and a gray collared shirt with its sleeves rolled all the way up past his elbows. Overall, he appeared fairly hip.

After putting his laptop down at the teacher’s desk, the bespectacled elf stepped forward and addressed the class.

“Good morning, youngsters!” he said with exuberance. “Sorry to be late, I...I had to take care of something first, but anyway! I’m gonna be your substitute history teacher for, eh...I don’t know how long yet...I’m not quite sure how long your teacher is going to be absent...but in the meantime”—he pointed both thumbs at himself—“I’m the man of this classroom!”

The students all looked at each other in excitement. A substitute teacher? This was gonna be fun!

“We may not get to leave class, but this is almost as good,” Gurge whispered to his friends, only for Parthenope to shoot him a glare.

“You may call me Mr. Vance,” the teacher continued, introducing himself. “Now, can anyone tell me what you’ve all been learning?”

Needless to say, Parthenope didn’t have to be asked twice. She raised her hand in eagerness, and thought perhaps she, her friends, and their classmates would get to go to the Golden Age after all.

“Yes, you, the satyr in the front!” Mr. Vance pointed, acknowledging Parthenope.

With pride, the teenage pink-haired satyr clasped her hands together and said, “we were just about to learn what New Mushroomton life was like in the Golden Age.”

Mr. Vance nodded. “Ah, that sounds very...non-magic-like,” he said, then he walked back over to his laptop. “But unfortunately, that’s not the lesson I have planned for you guys today.”

Parthenope’s smile instantly faded again at the sound of that. Then she crossed her arms, sunk into her seat, and frowned as the new teacher continued sharing his plan.

“Instead, I’ve got a slide presentation describing all the different kinds of magical objects and relics,” he added.

Ian’s heart stopped at the mention of magical objects and relics, and once more, the talisman returned to the forefront of his mind.

The younger Lightfoot felt like he was never going to get that thing out of his head. But a part of Ian was still all ears for this lecture. Any lesson related to magic—no matter where it came from—was guaranteed to make him attentive. However, it was interesting that out of nowhere they were even getting a lecture on a topic related to magic in the first place. As his satyr friend had just mentioned, the plan was to learn about the Golden Age of New Mushroomton.

But even still, this change of plans was certainly making the elf wizard’s desire to learn more about magical history come true. For the first time since his quest with Barley, magic was being brought up in their history class again! So for Ian, this was all very exciting—even if the legendary relics this teacher was going to bring up were ones he already knew about from Quests of Yore.

As for Parthenope, she perked up somewhat at the fact that they were at least learning something today, and not nothing. History was no fun to her if they didn’t learn anything new or interesting.

Opening up the laptop, the substitute teacher got the presentation loaded.

“Would someone mind hitting the lights for me?” he asked the class.

Sadalia volunteered. Once she went over and hit the light switch, Mr. Vance pulled down the projector screen that was above the blackboard, then reached for the remote that was on the teacher’s desk. After pressing the power button to the projector, the lecture commenced.

“As you all are probably aware, magic has recently made a comeback into our realm,” Mr. Vance began, “and so I thought it would be fun for all of you to get a little background on some ancient magical artifacts.”

Soon the title slide of the presentation was all loaded up. It contained an assortment of mystical objects, and they all looked quite different from one another.

“Every magical relic is unique in its own special way,” the teacher continued. “Some are more powerful than others. Some have more to them than one can see with the naked eye. But there are also some out there that are quite”—he paused for a second, most likely for dramatic effect, before he said—“rare.” Then, in a heartbeat, Mr. Vance pointed his index finger up in the air and added, “so rare, in fact, that there may be no record of certain magical objects in any kind of book about magic...”

He then used the projector clicker to press onto the next slide.

“Like these for instance...”

It was then that Ian let out an inaudible gasp. He could not believe it. He didn’t think it was possible after all that endless searching last night in Barley’s room and this morning in the library. On that very slide—amongst other super rare magical artifacts—was the talisman he found!

No way! That’s the talisman I found last night! he thought to himself. Then his inner voice really began to ramble as he reached for his history notebook. I-I can’t believe it! I’m going to learn all of its secrets right now! This is perfect!

Ian could no longer contain himself. This was just too good of an opportunity to waste! From then on until the class ended, the younger Lightfoot vowed to be extremely attentive. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. The fate of him getting any information to report back to Barley rested on this very lecture. As the elf wizard processed this, Mr. Vance carried on with his lesson.

“Each of these objects are so rare and mysterious that chances are, it is unknown what they are called or what they can do,” he said.

Yes, exactly! That’s exactly what this talisman is! Ian continued to blab in his thoughts as he leaned in and listened, all while he held his pencil at the ready over his notebook.

Mr. Vance then tapped his index finger on the side of his head. “But I have certified knowledge that they’re real and scattered out and about the United Realms, waiting for someone to discover their destinies.”

After saying that, the substitute teacher used the clicker to switch to the next slide, and the talisman’s picture was out of sight—much to Ian’s shock.

“What?! NO!” the teenage elf blurted out loud, almost standing from his seat. Then realizing immediately what he’d done, Ian covered his mouth with both of his hands.

But unfortunately, Mr. Vance and his classmates heard him loud and clear as they all turned their heads towards him.

“Is there a problem?” the teacher asked openly. He looked to Ian with an expression of intrigue on his face, but at the same time, the sudden outburst also made the bespectacled elf raise an eyebrow.

Ian’s heart beat faster. “Oh...uh, I, uh...” he stammered.

As the elf wizard looked around at his friends and the rest of his classmates staring at him—and at Mr. Vance staring at him—he began to feel very self-conscious. Ian had already made up his mind. He didn’t want to give away the fact that he had found a rare talisman that the teacher just so happened to have in the presentation—and especially not to the whole class! It was too much for them to handle. It was too much for him to handle. He couldn’t ask for a backtrack.

Now sinking into his seat in embarrassment, the teenage elf said more quietly to the teacher, “n-no, th-there isn’t...sorry.”

Mr. Vance simply smiled and said, “all right then. Now, as I was saying...”

The rest of the sub’s words were now lost on Ian. He really wanted more information on the talisman than what the teacher had briefly described—or rather, what he didn’t describe at all. But the elf wizard hoped that Mr. Vance would bring up the super rare relics again at another point in his slideshow.

Sadly though, he didn’t.

For the rest of the presentation—as Ian had predicted—Mr. Vance showcased magical objects that both the Lightfoot brothers learned about from Quests of Yore, like Chantar’s Talon and Faldar’s Horn.

“I bet some of you were wondering where those slang terms came from...” the teacher said at one point, regarding the claw and the horn respectively. “Well, now you know!”

This brought about some laughter from Ian’s friends and classmates. But Ian, of course, already knew this before Mr. Vance happened to mention it. So to the younger Lightfoot’s major disappointment, this whole class was just too good to be true.

◊ ◊ ◊

Before long, the bell rang, and everyone had to move on to their second period class. But Ian refused to give up like this, not after he saw the talisman with his own two eyes on the second slide of that presentation! It was calling him. Telling him that deep down, Mr. Vance most probably had all the information he wanted to know about this talisman. Now that history class was over, Ian knew he just had to ask this teacher about it—especially if said teacher wasn’t coming back tomorrow. There really was no time like the present.

So Ian got his stuff together and began to make his way over to the substitute—who was now at Ms. Traven’s desk, looking to be packing his things. But as he did, his friends realized that he wasn’t following them.

“Ian, aren’t you coming?” Sadalia asked him.

The elf wizard stopped. Only turning back slightly, Ian said to his friends, “oh, uh...I’ll catch up with you guys at lunch.”

And with that, it was just him and Mr. Vance in the classroom now. As Ian took one step at a time and approached him, he took a deep breath, and exhaled—hoping it would give himself the confidence he needed to ask this teacher some very important questions. Then he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Uh, hi,” the teenage elf said with a wave of his hand.

At that moment, Mr. Vance instantly stopped what he was doing and turned to face Ian. The bespectacled elf had a glowing smile on his face.

“Hey, what’s up, kid?” the teacher asked. His mellifluous voice and casual demeanor one-on-one made it seem like he was willing to answer any question.

“So, uh, heh heh...s-sorry about earlier...” the sixteen-year-old continued, chuckling nervously as he clasped his hands behind his back. “M-my name is Ian Lightfoot, and, uh...if-if it’s all right with you, I have a question about your presentation.”

Mr. Vance beamed. “Sure, Ian, what’s your question?” He appeared fairly happy that the teenage elf introduced himself.

“There was, uh...a picture on one of your slides of a talisman that looked...familiar to me,” Ian explained, playing with his fingers. “And I-I don’t know...I was, uh, I guess I was just wondering if maybe you, uh...knew anything about it.”

“I showed several talismans in my presentation, Ian,” Mr. Vance acknowledged, then after turning to reach for his laptop, he asked the teenage elf, “mind if you show me which one you’re referring to?”

Ian didn’t think Mr. Vance would be willing to open his presentation again. But he thought that it would help get his question across better. So with a nod and a widening smile, the teenage elf gave the teacher the go-ahead.

Mr. Vance pulled up the presentation once more, and Ian told him to go to the second slide which showed the mysterious talisman in question.

“It’s that one!” the teenage elf said, pointing to the talisman of red, blue, and gold.

“Ahhh, yes, I see,” Mr. Vance nodded, his interest piquing.

“So, d-do you know anything about it? Other than that it’s rare and mysterious?” Ian asked, glancing away from the photo and making direct eye contact with the teacher.

The teenage elf couldn’t stop himself from asking two questions at once. But he just thought he’d emphasize to this guy that he wanted to know more about this particular talisman than the other talismans pictured.

“Hmm...” Mr. Vance pondered, his hand to his chin, and that made Ian nervous.

If this substitute teacher didn’t know what this talisman was, or how it worked, where else could he possibly look? Aside from the Manticore—who was still away for the week at a secret unknown location—and Barley’s books, Ian felt like he’d searched everywhere! This teacher was most likely his only hope left.

After taking the time to think about it, Mr. Vance finally let go of his chin and said to the teenage elf, “well...I may know a few things about it...”

Ian’s heart dropped in relief. He was going to get some answers after all!

“Really? L-like what?” he asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“The biggest thing I know is its name,” Mr. Vance answered. “It’s called the S.S. Medallion.”

Ian smiled wide in amazement as soon as the teacher dropped the relic’s title.

The S.S. Medallion, the teenage elf repeated in his thoughts. So it does have a name!

He was glad to know it now. But then as he thought about it some more, he became confused. Why was the talisman even called that, anyway?

“You mean ‘S.S.’ as in what they call ships at sea?” Ian inquired. He just had to know.

“Not quite,” Mr. Vance said.

“So then...what does ‘S.S.’ stand for?”

“Not steamship, that’s for sure,” the teacher answered as he briefly stroked his chin again, then he chuckled. “If it was, there’d probably be boats on it, don’t you think?”

He had a good point. The pendant didn’t have any boats on it. So Ian figured it most probably had nothing to do with ships.

“That’s true,” the teenage elf agreed. But jokes aside, “S.S.” had to stand for something, but what? Still curious, Ian restated his question. “So you don’t know what ‘S.S.’ stands for?”

“Eh...” was all Mr. Vance could say. He seemed unsure.

“It’s all right if you don’t know,” Ian assured him. “I-I was just curious.”

Mr. Vance sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid a talisman this one-of-a-kind has an obscure title,” he said with remorse.

“That’s okay,” the teenage elf said with a small smile. “Really, I don’t mind having a little mystery leftover.”

The teacher beamed. “Oh, well...that’s good to know.”

In a way, Ian legitimately didn’t mind it. While he wanted answers, he also wanted more room for exploration—and better yet, more questions! But still, the teenage elf was at least grateful to finally know what the talisman was called so that he could stop calling it, “the talisman.” More importantly, it wasn’t just a talisman—but a medallion! So now that Ian had learned those things, he felt ready to learn more.

“So, what else do you know about it?” he asked Mr. Vance.

The substitute teacher had once again put himself in a tough thinking position, looking like he was desperately trying to remember what he knew for the sake of his student.

Noticing the bespectacled elf looking stumped, Ian glanced back over at the laptop. He figured maybe there was something in the medallion’s picture that could lead to an answer. The teenage elf squinted his eyes until he saw something he hadn’t made out earlier.

“What’s that blue thing next to the medallion?” he asked, pointing to a blurry light blue object. “Is something...” Ian let his sentence hang as he turned to face Mr. Vance again. But as he did, he took note of the teacher’s similarly colored skin, and furrowed his brows. “Or someone holding it?”

“Why, yes,” Mr. Vance answered, then he gestured to the photo. “That, my boy, would be a hand.”

“A hand?”

Ian concentrated back on the image, now noticing that the blue part did indeed have what looked like a finger crease. Then the teenage elf focused his eyes back on his teacher’s hand. After glancing back and forth between both things—putting two and two together—his eyes widened.

“Y-you mean...y-you’ve held the medallion before?”

Mr. Vance opened his mouth to speak. But then he held it for a moment, until finally he said with a dour expression, “yes, Ian, I have...”

The teenage elf’s surprise didn’t falter. In fact, he even felt a part of himself stammering a little. He didn’t know what to say.

But the teacher was now looking glumly at his feet as he added, “I had it in my possession once...but unfortunately, I lost it.”

“Oh,” Ian said. He began to feel a twinge of guilt as the two fell silent.

In the silence, the teenage elf was in his own head again. He had the medallion. It wasn’t lost to him. But what did Mr. Vance mean exactly when he said that he “lost it”?

Observing Ian’s thinking, the substitute teacher asked, “tell me, Ian, you said this medallion, this...this S.S. Medallion looked familiar to you? Now, why is that? Why are you so curious about it?”

In a flash, Ian snapped out of it, and his heart began to pound rapidly again.

“Oh...w-well...” the teenage elf began, but he hesitated.

A part of him really didn’t expect his conversation with this unexpected source to go this far. But he also still had his doubts about whether or not he should reveal to another person that he had a special medallion in his hands and risk putting the town in danger again. But then Mr. Vance cut in on his hesitation.

“’Cause say, hypothetically, you found the S.S. Medallion in person, maybe...maybe, perhaps...I could help you study it and figure out what its true purpose is, and then it wouldn’t be so rare and mysterious anymore.”

“Mmm...I don’t know...” Ian said, unsure. “I mean, I don’t know if—”

“Oh, not to worry,” the teacher interrupted. “I’ve studied many a talisman, trinket, and jewel in my day as you can see by this presentation I had for you and your classmates today. It’s actually been a profession of mine for years. But it’s never been very easy for me to study these objects without having the actual charm in question. So unless you were to have the actual medallion in person...”

Ian gave this some more thought. There didn’t seem to be any other immediate choice lined up behind this one. Plus, this teacher did seem like a professional.

The teenage elf took another deep breath, then with an exhale and a determined look on his face, he finally said, “yes...I do have it.”

“You do?!” Mr. Vance said excitedly, almost in a scream. It startled Ian a little. But then the teacher cleared his throat and said in a calmer voice, “I mean, um...you don’t say?”

“Yes...w-well, actually I don’t technically have it right now...” the teenage elf clarified, rubbing his arm. “But I do have it! It’s, um...”

Once again hesitating, Ian had pictured in his mind his desk drawer with the medallion inside. Revealing that he had the medallion to someone else was one thing, but the idea of that same person knowing its exact location seemed to draw the line in his opinion.

Mr. Vance noticed the teenage elf was starting to get uncomfortable. But soon he got an idea.

“I have a proposition,” he said. “Why don’t you bring the medallion here? And then...I could take a look at it. I mean, it would be really amazing to see this treasure in person again. What do you think?”

Ian stopped his awkward arm rubbing and beamed at that thought. As much as he kind of wished he had the medallion on him to show his new teacher right now, this sounded like a good compromise.

But to be sure, he asked Mr. Vance, “so, you’re saying you’d be able to properly examine it? And-and be able to see what kind of properties it has?”

The teacher nodded and slowly went, “mm-hmm.”

“Well, then...sure, we can do that!” the teenage elf said, now smiling.

“Splendid! So how about you and I meet here after school tomorrow and we can study this medallion together?”

All of this sounded wonderful to Ian, how could he possibly say no?

“That sounds awesome, Mr. Vance!” he said excitedly. “Thank you!”

Suddenly, the second bell rang. The next period had begun.

“Oh, no! I’m late for class!” Ian cried, and almost instantly, he bolted out of the classroom. But before he did completely, he turned back to the teacher and said, “thank you so much, Mr. Vance!”

“No problem, Ian! Now, run along!” Mr. Vance called back.

And just like that, Ian ran off and escaped his view. But the teacher smiled. Behind his spectacles, his eyes read contentment and determination.

◊ ◊ ◊

As Ian hurried down the halls to his next class, panting from the effort, his mind raced about the amazing, last-minute opportunity he’d stepped into back in his history classroom. Just an hour ago, he had absolutely no luck finding any information on this talisman—which was actually a medallion. But now he knew its name and someone who could help him study it right away! With this strike of fortune, he figured nothing besides school could possibly slow his progress down now.

Except, as he finally arrived at his destination—letting out an exhausted, “made it,” in the process—the younger Lightfoot suddenly realized something important. Something that should have crossed his mind minutes ago.

“Wait...Barley! He needs to—”

But before Ian could further process the need to let his brother know about Mr. Vance and his knowledge, the young wizard’s math teacher appeared at the doorway. The goblin had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

“Mr. Lightfoot, you’re late,” he said, clearly annoyed.

Still panting somewhat, Ian said to him, “I know. Sorry, Mr. Ravenheart. I had to take care of something.” Then as the teenage elf passed his teacher and entered the classroom, he muttered under his breath, “in fact, I still have something to take care of...”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 5 ◊

Forging a Deal

Hours later, Ian’s school day finally ended. The teenage elf had planned on walking home like he’d done this morning on this gorgeous afternoon. But as soon as he left the building and made his way down the front steps, he was quick to notice Guinevere the Second parked on the curb just a couple meters away.

“Barley?” Ian questioned out loud to himself. “What’s he doing here?”

He had figured what with how many books the older elf had stuffed in his room that there was no way Barley would’ve wanted to rest until he’d gone through every single one of them. Unless, of course, he did. But the younger Lightfoot didn’t know for sure. All he knew was, he’d sent his brother several text messages all day desperately trying to tell him that he had important news to share that just couldn’t wait until this afternoon, only to get no answer. Yet, here his brother was now, finally answering him in the form of transportation!

In a matter of seconds, Barley poked his head out of the passenger side window, and waved to his younger brother.

Despite showing up unannounced with yet another generous offer to pick him up from school, Ian waved back to the older Lightfoot with a smile. Then he gladly began to walk over to Guinevere the Second. But as he did so, the younger elf thought he heard someone calling his name from afar.

“Ian! Over here!”

Peeking over his right shoulder, Ian saw that it was Mr. Vance of all people.

The teacher was hanging out in the shade beside the front steps. He leaned back against the brick wall of the high school, all while sporting a pair of sunglasses atop his crazy cool hair along with his usual rectangular shades. He waved.

“Mr. Vance?” the younger Lightfoot asked, confused.

His eyes focused back over at Barley for a brief moment—who sat in the van with his hands clutching the open window—then they returned to where his substitute teacher was waiting for him. Whatever it was that Mr. Vance wanted to tell him, Ian knew that it just had to be important—especially if it was something that couldn’t possibly wait until their meeting tomorrow. A meeting which—now that he really thought about it—felt like a hasty decision on his part. Not that he really had the time to make a thoughtful decision in the minutes he had before his second period. Perhaps more details weren’t such a bad idea after all.

So the younger elf turned back and decided to go over to the teacher for a minute and see what he wanted. Plus, as he was now just remembering from seeing Barley in the distance, it was also his chance to let Mr. Vance know that his brother was also a part of the S.S. Medallion’s research. There was no way in all the realms that Ian wanted to continue this quest and learn more about the talisman’s secrets without Barley right by his side. And soon he would let his older brother know about Mr. Vance and his expertise. Ian figured if Barley was chill about looking through several books that he probably also wouldn’t mind letting another expert in on the quest. Particularly if it was someone that had a specialty in magical artifacts.

But meanwhile, inside Guinevere the Second, Barley noticed his younger brother was suddenly walking away from him for some reason.

“Where is he going?” the older elf asked himself in a whisper. What he noticed next was Ian approaching a strange man wearing two sets of glasses. “And who is that?”

Barley hadn’t the slightest clue. He’d never seen his brother hang out with a person like that before, much less see that person around at all. Regardless, he was happy to wait for his brother until he was finished talking to this guy for whatever reason.

Approaching Mr. Vance, Ian said, “hey!”

“Hey, kid, how was your day today?” the teacher asked cheerfully.

“Eh, it was okay...I guess,” the teenage elf answered, sticking his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

But Mr. Vance, forming a smug look on his face, could tell that there was more that his student wanted to say.

“Is there...something on your mind?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I just...” Ian began. He didn’t really know where to start. Then lightly kicking a small pebble in front of him with his foot, he added, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about the S.S. Medallion all day. Heck, now that you’ve told me that’s what it’s called. But seriously, no matter how hard I tried to get it out of my head, it would just...come back to me like some boomerang.”

“Well, the mystery of magical artifacts certainly has a way of doing that, don’t they?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ian said, joining Mr. Vance against the brick wall. Then his expression brightened. “But hey, now that school is finally over for today, I can finally concentrate on it again without anything else getting in the way!”

“That’s the spirit!” the teacher said with elation. But then clearing his throat, he stood up straight, and turned to the teenage elf with a serious demeanor. “So, uh, listen, Ian...I’m glad I ran into you because there’s something I forgot to mention earlier about this talisman of interest that I thought you should know.”

“Wh-what is it?” Ian asked, feeling his heart drop.

Pulling the teenage elf close, Mr. Vance told him, “just listen carefully. This...this S.S. Medallion could be very dangerous, and the research very much so.”

“Okaaay...” Ian said with unease. He began to wonder if what Mr. Vance was about to say was something his teacher should’ve told him from the start.

But then the bespectacled elf finished with, “and so I would like to ask for you to keep this...this...this S.S. Medallion a secret, and not tell anyone else about it. We wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands now, would we?”

“No, I-I guess not.”

“I didn’t think so. So...do you think you could do that for me?”

To Ian, this sounded oddly foreboding. Nonetheless, the task he was given was simple. The only other person who knew about the medallion was Barley. Telling no one else about it would be as much of a piece of cake as his promise keeping—especially if it would help keep those he held dear out of danger.

So he said to the teacher, “uh...sure, no problem. You have my word.”

“Good,” Mr. Vance said with a grin, but then pulling away from the teenage elf, he suddenly felt awkward. “S-sorry, I just—I, uh...wanted to make that clear.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Ian said nonchalantly. “Believe me, the last thing I would ever want to do is put anybody in danger.”

“Oh, of course,” the teacher agreed. “Wouldn’t want that to happen for sure.”

“Yeah...” the teenage elf said with a laugh, but then he furrowed his brows. “But, um...actually, M-Mr. Vance,” he began to say after a moment. “You see, I...there was, um, actually something I wanted to talk to you about, too.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“It’s just...this meeting we’re having tomorrow...I-I know this sounds silly, but I was just wondering if maybe...we’re kinda, I don’t know...rushing into this a bit. I-I-I mean, it’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, I do! I guess...I guess what I’m trying to say is...well...there’s already someone else who knows about the medallion besides you and me.”

“Oh, really? Who?” Mr. Vance asked apprehensively.

“My older brother, Barley,” Ian answered as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “See, we both found it, and we’ve been trying to figure out its purpose ever since. I-I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, yes, that’s fine. Not a problem,” the teacher said, nodding.

“Really? Well, then, great! I can’t wait to tell him!”

“Just make sure you and him don’t tell anyone else though, okay?”

“Yeah, of course, got it.”

“But, might I ask...where and when did you and your brother find this medallion, anyway? It almost sounds like you’ve had it for a long time.”

“Actually...yesterday. In the parking lot of the Labyrinth Mall downtown,” Ian recalled. “It was just sitting there like litter for some reason, next to Barley’s van. I don’t know why.”

“And you didn’t see anyone else looking for it?”

“I don’t think so,” the teenage elf answered. “But...still, I-I don’t understand why something that magical and valuable would even be out there in the first place. Inside the mall, sure, but outside? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Stroking his chin, Mr. Vance said, “yes, what a rather...strange place, indeed. But I can assure you, it probably wasn’t supposed to be there.”

“Yeah, but it was...just sitting there...right next to my brother’s van,” Ian reaffirmed as he gestured to Guinevere the Second.

“Oh, that’s the van?” the teacher asked, pointing to the vehicle.

“Yep.”

“Wow-ha-how...what a very nice design,” Mr. Vance complimented, eyeing the painting of Ian and Barley riding a pegasus as a wizard and warrior respectively.

“Thanks...I, uh...I actually came up with that,” Ian shared.

“Oh, did you?”

“Yeah!”

“Painted it, too?”

“Mhm.”

The bespectacled elf laughed with amusement. Then patting the teenage elf’s back, he said, “Ian, you have got a gift. Mind if I, uh, take a closer look at it?”

“Oh, sure, but it’s, uh...it’s nothing, really,” Ian said with modesty as he and his new teacher began to make their way to Guinevere the Second. “It was just something nice I wanted to make for my brother after he lost his last van.”

“What happened to the last van?”

“Let’s just say that the last van made a glorious sacrifice that ultimately ascended her to Valhalla.”

“I see,” Mr. Vance said with a nod, just as he’d put his pair of sunglasses over his regular glasses.

“That van was Guinevere,” Ian explained, getting in front of Mr. Vance and walking backward, then charging forward, he placed a hand on the newer van. “And this is Guinevere the Second.”

“Ain’t she a beaut?” Barley chimed in, once again poking his head out the passenger’s side window.

Turning around, a surprised Ian greeted his brother. “Oh, hey, Barley! This is—”

“Ian, we gotta get going.”

“Okay, but—” the younger Lightfoot began to say, but when he turned to face Mr. Vance again, he realized that his teacher wasn’t behind him anymore.

Then suddenly, both brothers began to hear some banging and clanging coming from under Guinevere the Second. So Ian, who was already outside the van, faced his brother again, and gave him the “just a second” gesture. Then the younger elf peeked underneath to find that Mr. Vance was on his back, inspecting the van’s chassis.

“Mr. Vance, wha-what are you doing?” Ian asked as he wandered to the back side of the van, where he found his teacher’s legs.

“I may be an expert on magical objects, but I’m also quite a fan of machinery and gears,” the double bespectacled elf explained. “And boy, this is just impressive!”

“Y-yeah, it is, but, uh...just be careful. Barley loves this van more than anything.”

“Even you?” Mr. Vance questioned as he slid himself out from under the vehicle, and stood face to face with Ian again.

The teenage elf found himself taking a step backward. “Oh, uh, w-well...I-I don’t know. I-I’m not sure I would go that far. I—”

“I’m just teasing you, my boy,” the teacher assured with laughter and a wave of his hand.

“Oh, okay,” Ian said, letting out his own laugh of relief.

“Take it from me, we all have possessions that just mean so so much to us that we wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them. Which is why I want you to take extra good care of that talisman for me, okay? Remember: don’t let anyone else know about it. Bring it straight here tomorrow, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So...we’ve finally got a deal?” Mr. Vance asked as he extended a hand out, hoping that Ian would take it for a handshake.

Staring at the hand, the teenage elf thought about it. At first, he wasn’t completely sure about taking Mr. Vance’s offer knowing that Barley had a big part in the medallion’s discovery, too. But now that his teacher was fine with having his brother know—and had a fond appreciation of Guinevere, no less—it had become a lot more convincing to him.

“It’s a deal,” Ian said, taking Mr. Vance’s hand with a smile.

“Perfect,” the teacher said with a grin.

The two shook hands, then as Ian began making his way towards his side of Guinevere the Second, he said, “well, see you tomorrow, Mr. Vance!”

“Same to you, Ian!”

Barley, having observed their interaction from the driver’s seat, was curious about Ian’s new acquaintance.

“Hey, buddy, you know they make eyeglasses with sunglasses built in now, right?” he called to the double bespectacled elf, attempting to make conversation.

A once relaxed Mr. Vance appeared repelled by this statement. Marching over to Barley’s side of the van, he said to the older Lightfoot, “I’m sorry, but did I ask for your opinion? I think not.”

“Just sayin’, I think it’d be easier to have only one pair instead of two, ’cause you look a little ridiculous,” Barley teased with a chuckle.

“It may interest you to know that I just so happened to have these sunglasses in my pocket and I’m wearing them because I didn’t know how sunny it was going to get today! You got a problem with that?”

“Uh, no! Okay! Sheesh! Sorry!”

As Barley was taken aback by this man’s sharp remarks, Ian opened the passenger side door and got in Guinevere the Second.

Clearing his throat and composing himself, Mr. Vance began to say, “well, er, best of luck to you, uh...erm...”

“Barley,” the older Lightfoot finished for him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! Thank you! You have a, uh, a very nice van...very, very nice...” the teacher added, patting Guinevere’s hood as he strolled over to Ian’s side of the van. “Well, uh, good day to you, boys. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” Then leaning in towards Ian’s window, Mr. Vance said to him, “but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“As will I,” Ian said warmly.

“Marvelous! Well, see you then!” the teacher said, before turning and walking back towards New Mushroomton High.

“Bye!” the younger Lightfoot called as he watched Mr. Vance leave.

Afterwards, Barley started Guinevere the Second’s engine, and began to drive himself and Ian home.

Once the two brothers were out of the school lot and on the road, Ian asked, “so...Barley...not that I mind you coming to get me, but...why this time? I didn’t mind walking home.”

“Eh, my eyes really needed a break from reading a bunch of words for several hours,” the older elf said. “And since it was already close to three, anyway, I figured it was high time that I, Sir Barley, needed some fresh air and sunshine. Unlike that guy just now. Who was he, anyway?”

Ian had a feeling his brother would ask that. But he had to tell Barley about Mr. Vance at some point.

“I’ll tell you as soon as we get to your room, Sir I-Don’t-Read-My-Brother’s-Texts. Trust me, I’ve got a lot to fill you in on...”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 6 ◊

The Medallion Report

In a matter of time, the Lightfoot brothers got home, where they planned to report their findings on what they were each able to acquire on the talisman.

Before heading down to the basement to join his brother, Ian first rushed upstairs to his own bedroom to grab the S.S. Medallion from his desk drawer. He opened it, and there it was—just as he’d left it. Gripping the pendant into the palm of his hand, Ian thought it felt cool to actually hold the talisman this time now knowing what it was officially called—and it was all thanks to Mr. Vance. Ian was sure that if he and his brother went to his new teacher for assistance, they would certainly get further along in figuring out its purpose. He just hoped that Barley would agree, not that he had any doubts. He knew his brother would be up for just about anything!

With the medallion in hand, Ian left his bedroom and climbed down the main stairwell. Then he turned down the main hall, and entered his brother’s room.

As promised, he saw Barley there waiting for him. The older elf sat cross-legged on the floor looking through one of his many books. He held it up close, right in front of his face as if looking for something miniscule. Then he turned it side to side like a steering wheel.

Ian then glanced around Barley’s underground room and became surprised. His brother’s once-packed bookshelf was now completely empty! Every single guide, tome, and novel from there was scattered about the older Lightfoot’s room. Most of them laid open to a random set of pages and were either face down, right side up, or in some other odd position.

As the younger elf got further down the basement stairs, Barley finally glanced up, and was happy to see his brother and the talisman in his hands.

“Ah, dear brother! I see thou hath the talisman!” the older Lightfoot said.

“Yep, I do,” Ian said with a grin. “I thought we could use it.”

“But of course, young mage.”

The younger Lightfoot sat down on the floor next to his older brother, and placed the medallion between them—just as he did last night. Then he asked, “so, did you find anything from your books?”

Barley sighed heavily. “Alas, my young sorcerer, I have not.”

“Oh,” Ian said. He peered downward for a moment. That was not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve searched everywhere and not a single one of my books has anything on this talisman!”

A frustrated Barley then closed the book he was just looking at and tossed it right in front of him. It did a couple arbitrary flips before it landed far in a wacky position like the rest of his books.

Ian figured his brother had been doing that all day with each book that failed to follow through with the information that they wanted.

Barley sighed once more. “It seriously must be one-of-a-kind,” he said, then turning to face his brother, the older elf asked, “I don’t suppose you had any luck finding anything, did you?”

Unlike Barley, Ian did have luck finding information on the talisman. He had everything that happened to him today having to do with it all lined up in his head. But the younger elf decided it was best to tell his brother about his side of the research from the beginning.

“Well...I did check out the school library like I said I was gonna do...you know, to see if there was anything about the talisman...and I couldn’t find anything, either,” the younger Lightfoot explained with dismay.

Just as his brother did before, Barley gazed down at the floor in disappointment.

Then Ian grew a smile on his face. “But...I think I know someone who might be able to help us.”

Barley immediately looked back up, now delighted. “Is the Manticore back yet?”

“Uh...no, I don’t think so...” Ian said sheepishly. “But I wasn’t referring to her.”

Barley frowned. “Oh...then who?”

Ian turned his whole self to face his brother with an excited energy following through his veins. “There was a substitute teacher in my history class today, and he gave this HUGE slide presentation about magical relics, and one of the pictures he showed us was this talisman,” he said happily as he picked up the medallion and showed it off to his brother.

“No way,” Barley said, astounded.

“Way,” Ian confirmed, then he put the medallion back down on the floor. “But his slides didn’t give away any facts. So, I went up to him after class, and asked him about it.”

Barley was now leaning in with anticipation. “And what did he say?”

“Not much, unfortunately. He told me it’s called the S.S. Medallion, but the ‘S.S.’ part has nothing to do with ships at sea.”

The older Lightfoot thought about this deeply, then leaning his head over the medallion’s surface, he said, “yeah...yeah, makes sense. There aren’t exactly any ships on here.”

Ian felt grateful that his brother was showing the same mindset as Mr. Vance was about this mysterious medallion. It was positively strange that it was called the S.S. Medallion, but that there were no ships of any kind on the pendant piece—or at least something specific to anything, well, specific. What it was meant to do was still unknown.

The younger elf was about to mention that before Barley suggested, “so, of all things, it’s probably not a compass.” He then picked up the medallion and tried opening it as if it could be opened. “Besides, eh...” But he struggled with grimacing teeth. “You can’t...eh...even...eh...open it!”

And it wouldn’t.

“Barley! Careful! Don’t break it!” Ian cried.

“Don’t worry...eh...I won’t...eh!” Barley assured in his effort.

Still, Ian was worried that he would. The younger Lightfoot didn’t want himself or his brother to break the medallion just when they’d found their big break in discovering something new about it. He also wasn’t sure if Mr. Vance would be pleased to have a broken talisman presented to him at their meeting tomorrow—which was still something Ian had to bring up in terms of his side of the research.

But as he thought about it, Barley did make a good point about the medallion not being a compass, and the younger elf wondered for a second why he never even thought of that. He also wondered why his teacher didn’t even think of it, either.

“You know, I wonder why Mr. Vance didn’t think of the medallion being a compass...” Ian wondered, speaking his thoughts aloud.

“Mr. Vance?” Barley questioned. He’d now just given up on opening the medallion. While the older elf was strong, he was just no match for it.

“The sub who had the talisman picture,” Ian reminded him. “The person I went to to ask about it.”

“Oh, right, right!”

“Oh! And the guy I just showed Guinevere the Second to when you came to get me from school,” the younger elf remembered.

Barley became stunned. “That was him?”

“Yeah...why?”

The older Lightfoot thought back to meeting who he now realized was his brother’s source of information almost a half hour ago. He frowned. “Nothing, it’s just that, uh...he didn’t seem like a teacher to me,” he said, then he began to snort at the thought of him, “not with those double shades. I’d say he was shady.”

As Barley began laughing out loud at his own joke, Ian became repulsed. “Why is that funny?”

“Y-you know, sh-shady? ’Cause, uh, shades is, uh...another word for...glasses.”

But his younger brother wasn’t impressed. “If I didn’t know any better, it almost sounds like you’re making fun of him.”

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

“Well, would ya stop? I mean, I think he could be really helpful to us.”

“Okay, fine,” Barley said flatly in annoyance. “What else did he know?”

There was only one other thing Mr. Vance had told Ian about the medallion—besides the possibility of it being dangerous—and it was that the teacher once had it in his possession. The younger Lightfoot went back to wondering what that even meant. Was Mr. Vance trying to say that the medallion belonged to him? Or was he trying to keep it safe, but was unable to? He was a studier of magical artifacts, after all. Still, the younger elf wasn’t entirely sure, but it was the last thing he knew about the medallion that Barley didn’t.

Clapping his two index fingers together, Ian said slowly, “well...he also might’ve said that, um...he once had the medallion...in his possession?”

“What does that mean?” Barley asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

The younger Lightfoot rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh...I-I think it means...that the medallion...is his?”

“You can’t be serious,” the older elf said in contempt.

“Well, I don’t know!” Ian said defensively, but then his voice became timid again. “But I mean, from the way he said it, it...it could be his...”

“How would you even know that? Just because he told you?”

“He had a picture of the talisman on his slide presentation! Don’t you remember me telling you that?”

“Ha! That picture could’ve been from anywhere...”

“Or it could’ve been taken with his camera! His hand was in the photo!”

“All right, well, look at the talisman, Ian,” Barley challenged as he handed it over to his brother. “Do you see the name ‘Vance’ engraved anywhere on it?”

Ian took a closer look at the medallion. He searched all over, but couldn’t find a single trace of Mr. Vance’s name—or any name for that matter—which made him all the more anxious because this was not helping his case at all.

“Uhhhh...” was all the younger elf could let out.

“You see!” Barley said, forcefully taking the medallion back. “It’s probably not his! Especially if he’s just some so-called teacher...”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Ian protested, getting on his feet. “Not everything that belongs to you has to have your name on it. I’m just a teenager, and look, I have a wizard staff!”

Saying that, he took out his wizard staff necklace from underneath his sweatshirt for emphasis.

“Yeah? Well, what about Dad’s college sweatshirt?” Barley fired back in a cross tone as he got up on his feet, too. “Or your precious little notebook? Or my Quests of Yore guidebook?”

But Ian refused to listen. He just wanted to keep on insisting until his brother saw his way.

“Barley, if it belongs to Mr. Vance, then we have to give it back to him!” he cried. “It’s the right thing to do!”

“Oh, and why should we?” the older Lightfoot asked with doubt, then making air quotes with his fingers, he added, “for all I know, ‘S.S. Medallion’ is probably a made-up name! He’s scamming you!”

“But what if he’s not? Barley, we need to trust this guy!”

“Trust him all you want, but he’s not getting this talisman!” Barley said, twisting the medallion in his hand. Then he signaled himself and his younger brother. “Besides, we agreed that this was only going to be between us! That was your idea!”

“Well, f-f-funny you should say that ’cause, uh...he wants to have a look at the medallion tomorrow, and I agreed I would show it to him,” the younger elf said defiantly.

“You did what?! Ian, why would you do that? Art thou trying to abandon the Lightfoot brother camaraderie?”

“No, I didn’t say that! Not at all!”

But all the older elf could do was harrumph in response.

“Come on! We can study it together, the three of us!” Ian urged. “He has answers, Barley! He just wants to inspect the medallion in person so he can read it better. We gotta use any opportunity presented to us!”

“And I say we shouldn’t take this one. I mean, you were concerned about me breaking this talisman a minute ago. Well, I’m concerned that he’ll confiscate it so that it’s never used again! He sure seems like the kind of pettish, nosy guy who would do something like that. I mean, what in Zadar was he trying to do to Guinevere the Second? Cut her brake wires? Blow up her engine?”

“He was only interested in her mechanics! I think Vance knows what he’s talking about and we should give him a chance!”

“With something magical like this? I don’t think so,” Barley said, holding up the medallion, then he began to pace around in worry. “I mean, who-who knows? It’s probably not even magic at all...m-maybe I was wrong about this one...”

“But it is! It is magical, Barley! I know it is! I put it around my neck, and it gave me this sort of...energy chill! And-and this glowing eye effect! It was insane!”

Somehow, Ian felt excitement inside of him again. He hoped that this extra piece of knowledge would change his brother’s mind about Mr. Vance. But from the way Barley looked up from the medallion, the younger elf’s enthusiasm only dwindled again when he saw that the older Lightfoot’s eyes read more betrayal than before.

Now walking up to his brother with a bigger frown, Barley asked, “so-so wait a second, let me get this straight...you agreed to hand over this talisman to this-this teacher, without asking me, and then you tried it, without telling me?”

“Well, m-m-more like the other way around,” Ian said, playing with his fingers. Then dropping his arms, he exhaled, and frowned. “But yes. I tried it last night, and I felt this strange chill go up my spine, and my eyes glow all white for a second. That’s all. I-I was going to tell you, anyway. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you are abandoning me,” the older elf said with a somber voice. Then he resumed pacing around his room again, struggling to process his brother’s rash decision-making whilst stepping over his many books.

“Well, what did you want me to do?! Say no? Not take a risk?” Ian asked him, jarringly.

But the older elf wouldn’t say a word.

Fueling with his own anger, the younger elf then shouted at his brother, “this is not the Barley I know! The Barley I know loves magic, and would do anything for it! And do anything for me! And-and, if I can do magic, feel it, and-and you can’t, w-well, then...maybe I should do this on my own! I DON’T NEED YOU!”

But as soon as Ian burst that last part out loud, Barley finally snapped out of it and looked at his brother with a face that read utter feelings of hurt.

Ian covered his mouth, immediately regretting what he’d just said. He so desperately wished he could take it back, but it seemed it was already too late. The younger Lightfoot wasn’t sure what to say anymore. He wanted to research the medallion with Barley, but he didn’t want to pass up the chance with Mr. Vance, either. Yet his brother wanted nothing to do with him.

“Is that so?” Barley finally said, clearly more affronted than ever. After thinking for a moment, he walked over to his own desk with the medallion—which made Ian’s heart beat faster.

“Barley, wha-what are you doing?” he asked worriedly.

But the older Lightfoot pretended not to hear his younger brother.

“Barley, ANSWER ME!”

Instead of answering, Barley opened his own desk drawer and put the medallion inside. Afterwards, he immediately pushed the drawer back in, then stood in front of his desk with a now smug look on his face and his arms crossed. He was proud and confident that with just himself, there was no way for Ian to get around him.

“I ain’t moving,” the older elf declared. “We’ve looked through every one of my books. That part of our deal is done. And now, we are waiting for the Manticore.”

Ian couldn’t believe the way his brother was acting. In his own way, Barley was treating him like a child. Or rather, Barley was acting like one. Ian didn’t know what to think. But he was beginning to think his brother was being unreasonable.

Feeling steam coming out his ears, the younger elf clenched his fists, and shouted, “NO, WE’RE NOT!”

He then charged at his brother with a yell. But Barley grabbed Ian’s arms, holding him back.

“YES. WE. ARE!” the older Lightfoot roused in his struggle.

“Come on, Barley! This is ridiculous! I know you’ve always had your way of doing things, but that doesn’t make it okay for you to—”

But at that moment, Barley pushed his younger brother away from himself so hard and so fast that he shoved Ian to the ground!

The younger Lightfoot let out a yelp as he felt his entire back hit his brother’s rug, maybe even a book or two. Now on the floor, Ian gazed up at his brother. He could see perfectly well from the look on Barley’s face that he had no single trace of cheeriness left in him.

Breathing rapidly, Ian picked himself up off the ground.

“I...I-I can’t believe you! Why can’t you be reasonable about this?!” he snapped, having officially lost his temper. Then in a huff, the younger elf turned and began to storm out of his brother’s room.

Witnessing his distressed brother leave, Barley began to regret what he’d done immediately.

“Oh, no, no, no! Ian, wait!” he called.

“I don’t want to!” Ian shouted in reply, not looking back at his brother. Waiting was the last thing the younger Lightfoot wanted to do right now. He ran up the stairs, and just like that—he was gone.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian went straight back to his room. As soon as he got there, he slammed the door, locked it, and sat down at his desk in frustration. He leaned in, ran his hands through his hair, and sighed.

What am I going to do now? he wondered.

Without that medallion, Mr. Vance couldn’t tell him anything more about it. His new teacher was the only immediate source of information that he and Barley had right now. Or rather, the only immediate source of information he had. Ian wished it could’ve been Barley, but none of his books were any help, and neither was he. Yet the younger elf also blamed himself for even mentioning what he was able to find out in the first place. Perhaps had he said nothing, then maybe his brother wouldn’t be hiding the medallion for himself tight away in his underground room.

As Ian sat at his desk under stress, contemplating what to do next, he tilted his head downward and noticed his tiny wizard staff on his handmade chain necklace. He reached for it and held it for a moment in his stage of longing.

If only there was a spell that could get me all the answers I wanted, the young wizard thought, then I wouldn’t be so curious and desperate.

He figured with magic back in his world again that he would be able to solve any problem more easily. But this whole medallion thing seemed to be a problem not even magic could solve. This only frustrated Ian even more. So much so that he pounded his head face down on his desk.

“Uuuuugh,” he groaned.

The younger Lightfoot’s groans were muffled, so there was no way Barley could hear his irritation from two floors down. Not that Ian really wanted him to, anyway. He knew he had to be strong and not surrender to his older brother. But since Barley didn’t feel like doing any further research on this medallion—not with the stubborn attitude he was having—Ian figured he’d try and do it himself without the medallion. But where to go next was the tricky part.

It’s called the S.S. Medallion, Mr. Vance’s voice echoed in Ian’s mind, and the teenage elf suddenly lifted his head right up from his desk.

“That’s it!” he said out loud with enthusiasm. He grabbed his phone, and typed S.S. Medallion into his online search engine.

Books may not have the answers, but that doesn’t mean the internet won’t, Ian thought with a hopeful smile on his face. Maybe there are other images of this medallion online, now that I know its name...

He pressed enter, but as soon as the results loaded up, his face fell.

All that came up in terms of images and articles were subjects that had absolutely nothing to do with the real S.S. Medallion.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Ian said to himself in anger. “UGH!”

He turned off his phone, put it to the side, and resumed moping on his desk. Not even the wise knowledge of the internet could save him.

With hope lost, Ian thought about starting his homework so that he’d have some excuse not to come out of his room—at least until it was time for dinner.

◊ ◊ ◊

It was just three for dinner tonight as Laurel’s boyfriend, Colt, was once again busy patrolling the streets of New Mushroomton. She decided to order a pizza from Pizza Realm as the isolation of both her sons implied to her that they were also busy tonight—with homework and such—and didn’t have time for a big meal. When she called them over to eat, both brothers arrived in a broody fashion—especially Ian.

As all three family members ate together at the dining room table, Barley and Ian refused to really look at each other. It certainly made the gathering awkward as it forced their mother to initiate any—if not all—conversations.

“So...Barley, I feel like you’ve been in your room all day,” Laurel remarked. “What were you doing in there?”

Barley stuffed a slice of pizza into his mouth to give himself some time to think about what to say. Then once he made a hard swallow, he finally said, “reading.”

“Reading what?” Laurel asked. She wanted a more specific answer from her older son.

“Rereading,” Barley said as he got another slice of pizza from the box.

His mother began to giggle. To her, this was starting to get hilariously ridiculous.

“Rereading what?”

“Okay, Mom, really?” the older elf said, but he wasn’t too annoyed as he cracked a smile at her.

“I’m sorry, but you can be vague sometimes,” Laurel said. She couldn’t stop giggling and that made Barley giggle, too.

Meanwhile, a melancholy Ian was just staring at his plate with a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand. He wanted to be alone. He was alone, sure—for about three hours. But he wanted to go back to being alone.

“Okay, okay! If you must know...” Barley said, having contained his giggling. “I was rereading some of my older books about the grand days of yore.”

As soon as he said that, Ian slightly looked up in fear. He was sure at this moment that his older brother was about to tell their mother about the medallion.

“Wow, you haven’t looked at those books in a while! Not as much as your Quests of Yore guidebook,” Laurel commented. “Why’d you look through them?”

Ian finally began to look straight at Barley, but not to apologize. More or less to give him the don’t do it look.

Barley noticed this, and in return, he quickly gave Ian a face that read, you don’t have to be so angry, you know. Then he turned back to their mom and answered her now fourth question. “Eh, after Ian and I looked through some of my books yesterday, I was feeling nostalgic and wanted to remember more non-Q of Y memories.”

Laurel nodded endearingly. However, the look on Ian’s face didn’t rub off.

He still had that pouting face, which—again—Barley noticed. This time the older Lightfoot gave off a face to his younger brother that read, what is your problem, little bro? Let it go!

But Ian wouldn’t budge. It was like he’d locked himself in a staring contest with his older brother, even though Barley wasn’t staring back at him in the exact same way.

“And Ian, how was school today?” Laurel asked, breaking his concentration.

It was now the youngest Lightfoot’s turn to talk about his day, much to his annoyance. Nevertheless—to lessen his mom’s worries—Ian loosened up a tiny bit, but kept a slight frown.

“It was fine,” he answered.

It seemed to Laurel that both of her sons were giving off vague replies tonight. So then she asked her younger son, “are you ready for your science quiz tomorrow?”

“I think so,” Ian said quietly. “I’ve been studying.”

It was all he could really do now that he didn’t have a medallion to investigate.

On the other side of the table, Barley decided that he had to make amends with Ian. Even though he wasn’t willing to let his younger brother give the talisman to this shifty teacher, he couldn’t bear to see Ian so down in the dumps. Plus he felt really bad for accidentally shoving him. That was definitely not cool on his part.

“Ha-ha! Good for you, dear brother!” he said in his medieval voice. “Gotta keep those grades in check.”

While Laurel smiled at that, Ian was just getting more annoyed by the minute.

“As if you care,” the younger elf said, now clenching his teeth and looking away.

He knew the truth. His brother did not actually care about his studies. All he was trying to do was lighten the mood.

But Barley’s optimism suddenly shrank. “And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, letting go of his medievalism, and becoming hostile.

Ian didn’t want to speak to his brother anymore tonight. He also didn’t want what was becoming another heated argument between them to spew so out of control that it got their mother to realize that they knew something she didn’t. So essentially, Ian didn’t want any more family time. A slice and a half of pizza was all he really felt like he needed, anyway.

So while still looking away from his older brother, he responded, “nothing, ’cause you already know.”

Then he got up from the table, and asked to be excused. Laurel allowed it, then afterwards, Ian bolted right up to his room again.

But even still, mother’s intuition gave Laurel the sense that he seemed upset. So she turned to Barley.

“Is he feeling all right?” she asked him.

Even though their medallion research was at a halt because he and Ian were at absolute odds on where to go forward, Barley didn’t want to bring it up to their mother just yet. He still wanted to keep that part of their brotherly secret intact, even if their relationship was still on the rocks.

“He’s just really stressed out,” Barley told his mother softly. “But don’t worry, I talked to him earlier and for now, I think he just needs some space.”

Laurel nodded. “All right, I trust you.” Then she smiled and put a gentle hand on her older son’s shoulder. “I’ve always loved how much you look out for him.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Barley said, cracking a small smile himself.

After a moment, Laurel got up from her chair and began to do the dishes.

As soon as she left for the kitchen, Barley’s smile faded. He still felt bad. Letting out a groan, he stretched his arms up in the air and excused himself as well. Then he too returned to the comfort of his own room.

◊ ◊ ◊

Empty, deserted, and silent. Those were what the halls of New Mushroomton High were like during pitch-black night when it was all closed up for the day. Except for one little corner in which blow torches and aviation snips were hard at work.

In the shadows of the building’s small security room, two figures were heard laughing and chatting away without a worry or care in the world.

“Oye, it’s not everyday the boss lets us mangle with two security systems!” said one of the figures.

“Agreed, this is the life!” said the other figure.

They both sat and spun around in swivel chairs, cutting away at the connectors linked to each of the building’s individual security cameras. On the screens above them, images of each room in the building began to black out one by one, giving way to no signal to those who wanted to view what was going on in the school.

The silhouettes of the figures happily enjoyed wrecking the system, until the single door to the room suddenly opened wide. When their large ears picked up the loud burst, the two individuals froze immediately, then they slowly turned their heads to see what was behind them. Once they saw who it was, they sighed in relief.

“Oh, it’s only you, boss!” the first figure said.

“What’s crackin’?” the second figure asked, giving off a sharp toothy grin.

At the doorway was a thin, shadowy figure in an extra large red robe. From where the other two figures were sitting, they could also see his glowing, yellowy-red eyes shine from underneath his hood.

“Are you finished yet?” he asked with demand. “You know I’d hate to do everything myself.”

“Nearly there, master,” the first figure assured. “We’ve disassembled almost every security camera in this, here, building.”

“Oye, thanks to the tools we found heres,” the second figure remarked, holding up a pair of scissors.

The hooded figure let out a light groan and shook his head downward. It seemed clear to his companions as they glanced at each other in concern that lots of thoughts were going through their leader’s mind, and one of them was that he definitely wasn’t impressed.

With heavy steps from his long bare feet, he entered the room, and made his way to his workers and the large security system. He pushed between them, then put his hands on the dashboard, and looked side to side—clearly inspecting their work.

“Wh-what is it, my liege?” the second figure asked.

The hooded figure eyed both figures for a moment, then he turned his back away from them and walked around the room.

“Use your claws and chew it up if you must,” he advised. “I want this whole thing shut down and unfixable!”

“Aye aye, sir,” responded the first figure.

“That way, no one will have any proof of my tricks and thievery. Oh...excuse me, our tricks and thievery.”

The two figures on the system snickered in enjoyment at the sound of that. In more ways than one, this whole operation wasn’t just about their superior.

As the hooded figure paced around the security room some more, his aura became full of mischievous plotting.

“Oh, yes...I’ll get my S.S. Medallion back...and its little captor, too...” he schemed. “Meddlesome boy...he has no idea who he’s dealing with...”

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian sat at his bedroom desk having resumed his moping whilst studying for tomorrow’s quiz among other things. After closing his science book for the night, the teenage elf reached into his back pocket, got out his notebook, and opened it to today’s to-do list.

He had just about everything checked off. Going to the school library, finding information on the talisman, and studying for his science quiz.

The only thing that wasn’t checkmarked was sharing his findings with Barley.

Clicking his pen open, Ian was about to check the box on that item, too. But just before the tip could reach the paper, he stopped himself.

Thinking back on this afternoon, the younger Lightfoot believed he was really the only one of the two brothers that did any sharing. To him, all Barley did was oppose his ideas and take the medallion away from him. Somehow that made the younger elf feel like he had gotten pushed around by his older brother. Quite literally in fact as Barley did also shove him down.

So with all of that in mind, Ian grew a frown, and instead crossed out “share findings with Barley” on his list. Then he closed his notebook and tossed it aside on his desk.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 7 ◊

Wanted

As the morning sun rose over New Mushroomton, transforming another night into day, a dazed Ian reached for his phone and turned off his alarm. Then sitting up a little, he began to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. Just one peek at the sunlight that shone into his bedroom made the teenage elf remember something. He was meeting with Mr. Vance after school today to discuss the secrets of the S.S. Medallion.

All Ian wanted to do was bury his entire head under his pillow—which he did, of course. Then he groaned. There was no way this examination was going to go the way he wanted it to if he didn’t have the actual S.S. Medallion to show to his teacher—and as far as he was concerned, it was all Barley’s fault!

He’s going to call my bluff, Ian thought. People pretend they have stuff all the time, even though they don’t. Vance is so going to think that about me. He’s going to think I don’t actually have it!

The younger Lightfoot then removed the pillow that was over his face and held it out to the side. Then he found himself staring up at his bedroom ceiling as he continued to think with a downhearted expression on his face.

He really wanted to see it...and I’m going to let him down...

Meanwhile, Barley—already up and awake—was upstairs passing by Ian’s bedroom door. As he did, he stopped right in front of it, and stood there for a moment.

Maybe I should talk to him, the older elf thought. He made a fist to use to knock on the door. But just as he was about to touch it, he heard his mother calling him from downstairs.

“Barley! It’s your turn to take out the trash!” she said.

This convinced the older Lightfoot to put his hand down. He let out a sigh. Seconds later, he called back, “coming!” Then he charged down the stairs to take out the garbage at his mother’s request.

◊ ◊ ◊

It took a little longer than usual for Ian to get up this morning. It was clear to him that he felt nervous about today. But no matter the circumstance, he had to face what was in front of him.

So when the teenage elf finally did make his way out of bed, he slipped on a dark gray flannel shirt, a pair of jeans, and his blue-green sneakers. Then he grabbed his bag with the goal of getting out of the house as soon as he could. Ian decided right then that he would just get some food on the way to school today. That way, he wouldn’t have to see Barley, his mother, or Colt if the centaur cop happened to come in through the back door.

The younger Lightfoot slowly opened his bedroom door and went through, then he attempted to walk down the hall and down the stairs as quietly as he could so that he wouldn’t attract any attention. When the front door handle to the outside was just within his reach, Ian held out a hand for it, but then he hesitated. He looked over at the kitchen and noticed that both his mother and Barley were in there. Sighing, the youngest elf decided to at least tell the matriarch of the Lightfoot family three what he was planning to do.

“Hey, Mom,” he called, “I’m leaving early today!”

From the kitchen, Laurel looked up and said, “again? Didn’t you leave early yesterday?”

“Yeah, but I...I’m, uh, meeting with my friends to do some extra, last-minute studying for the quiz today,” Ian lied.

“Oh, okay, then,” his mother called back. “Have a good day, and good luck!”

“Thanks,” the youngest Lightfoot said as his hand finally touched the handle.

Ian opened the front door and went through. But as he went to close it, he took a glimpse back, and there was Barley looking right at him—like he had something to say, but couldn’t say it. Ian gave his older brother a returning look with eyes full of misery, then he shut the door tight behind him.

Now on the other side, the younger elf found himself crossing his arms in loneliness. Then, after letting out a sad sigh, he began to walk to school.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian thought there was no better place to go for breakfast takeout than Burger Shire. To him, it just so happened to meet the halfway point between home and school. Not to mention that it was a popular joint for him, his friends, and other people his age. But it was also the place for Ian to go when he didn’t feel like dealing with his chaotic household in the early mornings before school. Sure, it wasn’t chaotic this time because he didn’t stick around long enough to even get the feeling if it was heading in that direction. Then again, when it came to chaos, no one brought it on better than his older brother—and his older brother was still the reason he left the house early this morning.

The young wizard wasn’t sure how he could hang around with Barley without getting angry at him about this whole medallion thing. He also couldn’t quite put his finger on why exactly his brother wasn’t into discovering its purpose anymore. Barley was so excited about it before—that was, until the younger Lightfoot mentioned bringing Mr. Vance on board with the research. And that was before Barley had decided to hide the S.S. Medallion away in his desk drawer and propose waiting for the Manticore.

With all this in mind, Ian wondered why his older brother was suddenly acting like the one in charge, and pushing him around rather than pushing him to take risks.

And their fight. They hadn’t fought that badly with each other since their quest for the Phoenix Gem, but this was probably their worst one yet! The younger elf felt bad, but he just didn’t know what to do.

Soon Ian had made it to the block where Burger Shire was located and only needed to cross one more street in order to get there. As he stood at the curb with other pedestrians waiting to cross, the younger Lightfoot looked to his left and right at the people he was standing beside. None of them seemed to be staring at him like he was some big, important wizard. With this observation, he realized that his wizard staff chain necklace was working! It was something that began to brighten up his mood because, for the first time that morning, he cracked a smile.

Just then, a gnome mother and her little gnome daughter made their way through the mass of pedestrians. Being smaller than some of the other species amongst them, they brought themselves to the front row of the crowd. This way, they could better see the sign change for when it was time to walk. The mother and daughter held hands as they waited. Feeling bored, the smaller gnome stared up at the telephone pole adjacent to her, and noticed a variety of posters and advertisements plastered on it.

“Mommy! Mommy! Can I get that?” she begged her mother, pointing her free hand at a poster that caught her eye.

“No, sweetie, you’ve got plenty of toys at home,” her mother said sternly.

“But Mommy, it says ‘wanted’!” the small child said, undeterred. “If it’s ‘wanted,’ then I want it!”

The mother looked up at the poster her daughter was pointing to, and became somewhat alarmed.

“Honey, you don’t want that,” she told her child, trying to remain calm.

“Why not?” the young gnome demanded.

“Because that’s a wanted poster. The police put those up when there’s a bad guy on the loose.”

“How come?” the daughter asked, being endlessly curious.

Sighing, the mother tried her best to explain to her child as simply as she could the purpose of wanted posters.

Their conversation didn’t go unnoticed by Ian, who’d been listening and observing the whole time because what else could he possibly do while waiting to cross the street besides look at his phone? He glanced over at the telephone pole and eyed the wanted poster the daughter was talking about. He squinted his eyes to try and make out its words and details from where he was standing, but it was no use. So he stepped closer to the pole to get a better look at the poster. Heck, it was something else to keep him busy while he waited for the cars to go by.

On it, there was the most obvious word—WANTED—written in all caps at the top of the poster. Then there was a black-and-white caricature of the poster’s wanted “bad guy.” Ian could tell right away that the picture was drawn by an artist based on how real, yet unreal it looked. He figured this meant that Colt and the other officers at the police station couldn’t find a photograph of this guy—so they had to rely on eyewitnesses. It was clear that the artist they’d picked for the job had a lot of fun using their pencil to shade this criminal’s varied features from the many different hues of gray they used. However, the features themselves appeared almost as vague to Ian as the S.S. Medallion. The artist obviously tried to make this criminal seem as dark and mysterious as possible because the teenage elf could barely see a distinct face on this guy—especially not with that hood he wore over it. It also seemed like this person wore a ton of cover up as it was—what with the face mask, gloves, and robe he also appeared to be wearing.

Drawing aside, there was also a brief, informative description of what this criminal was wanted for by the New Mushroomton Police Department. It read:

WANTED For: Stealing a jewel from the New Mushroomton Jewel Museum

Last seen by eyewitnesses on the following streets:

Chalice Lane, Squire Road, Valor Street, Fable Circle, Halfling Drive, Oak Avenue, King Street, Clairvoyant Way

Species Unknown

Wears a dark red, extra EXTRA large robe that covers most of his figure

Not very tall, but not short

A very fast runner

Carries bright lights

Seems to disappear and reappear quickly

May be part of a gang of thieves

If you have any information concerning this person, please contact the New Mushroomton Police Department

Ian paid close attention to the stolen jewel part of the poster. It reminded him of what Mr. Vance had told him yesterday about not letting the S.S. Medallion fall into the wrong hands. The teenage elf figured those “wrong hands” referred to the hands of someone like this criminal on the poster. But this guy had stolen a jewel—like, a jewelry jewel. The S.S. Medallion wasn’t a jewel per se. It was more like a magical artifact. Plus, it sounded like whoever this guy was, he’d managed to get away with what he stole. Unfortunately, there was no picture of the stolen jewel in question. So who knew which one was, in fact, stolen.

The poster didn’t give a name for this thief, either, or any other personal information about him for that matter—like his exact height or weight. It seemed that even the police had to make do with what they had when it came to tracking down delinquents sometimes. To Ian, this just proved to him that a quest—no matter where anyone comes from—could happen and venture forth just about anytime and anywhere. He only wished his brother could understand that about their current quest. It just felt really strange that as of right now, Barley didn’t. Particularly when “use what you’ve got” was one of the most important things the older elf had taught Ian about quests.

In a matter of time, the gnome mother had finished explaining what wanted posters were to her daughter, and the young girl was still amazed.

“Coooooool,” she said, enthralled. “Can I have it?”

The mother groaned in frustration. Her daughter just wanted absolutely everything in sight, and this traffic that was holding them up didn’t seem like it was going to stop any time soon.

“All right,” she relented, then the gnome turned and looked up at Ian—who was still taking in the wanted poster himself. “Excuse me, young man,” she said, getting his attention, “would you mind reaching that wanted poster for us?” Then she joked, “my daughter wanted it.”

Ian was happy to do it. He peeled the wanted poster off the telephone pole and made sure to get one last good look at it before handing it over.

“Here you go,” the teenage elf said with a smile as he knelt down and gave the poster to the littlest gnome. When he did, the mother thanked him graciously as her daughter now jumped with joy.

Shortly after, the walk sign came on, and Ian, the gnomes, and everyone else on the curb could finally cross the street.

Once across, the mother and daughter went in a separate direction—with the daughter skipping and singing, “I got the wanted poster! I got the wanted poster!”—while Ian peacefully made his way over to Burger Shire. From there, he would be on his way for another regular day of school—at least until this afternoon.

◊ ◊ ◊

“It’s just the strangest thing!” exclaimed Mr. Latex, a satyr and one of the janitors of New Mushroomton High, as he held up a bunch of severed wires. “Who would want to destroy an entire school security system?”

He and Mr. Gnash—a troll and another member of the building’s custodial staff—were in the school’s security room, examining its apparent damage.

“Beats me,” Mr. Gnash said with a shrug.

“Oh, come now, Gnash!” Mr. Latex complained as he put the wires aside. He was becoming increasingly irked at his co-worker’s alleged obliviousness of the situation. “Certainly you must’ve known what happened here. Weren’t you on duty last night?”

“I was, but...” Mr. Gnash hesitated.

“But WHAT?”

“But for some reason...I don’t know, it was like...I got knocked out and didn’t wake up until just an hour ago.”

Mr. Latex facepalmed. “Then how about drinking a cup of coffee?”

“But I was!”

As Mr. Gnash and Mr. Latex continued to bicker with each other about their predicament, Principal Pipplemell entered the small room with her secretary, a cyclops. It didn’t take long for the head gnome to see everything before her.

“What in the Shield of Zadar happened here?!” she asked with a temperament. Then she signaled for her secretary to shut the door behind them.

“The security system. It’s completely busted, and...trashed,” Mr. Latex answered.

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Pipplemell! We don’t know who did it.”

“Normally the security cameras would show us,” Mr. Gnash added. “But in this case...destroying the cameras was exactly what they did.”

“We can’t have a school without security cameras!” Mr. Latex said with concern. “How will we monitor any activity?”

“Might I suggest we close the school for the day?” the secretary suggested, crouching down to the principal’s level.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” the head gnome shouted without giving it a second thought.

In the halls outside the security room, Sadalia—who was early to school—was conveniently walking by, and jumped at the sound of Principal Pipplemell’s usual screams. She knew that the principal, despite being a gnome, sometimes had no indoor voice and had the tendency to exaggerate. But whatever was going on was probably interesting to some extent. So the elf reporter put her ear to the now-closed security room door to try and overhear the teachers’ conversation.

“My school’s already been closed once this year,” Pipplemell continued, “almost indefinitely might I add, due to insubordination. I won’t let that happen again!” Then after taking a breath, she told her fellow faculty members, “the solution to this is simple: we’ll just call the town electrical company to make repairs, then it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Now back to work, gentlemen. I’ll take it from here.”

As soon as she heard the footsteps of adults approaching, Sadalia gasped and moved away from the door. She did not want them to know that she was eavesdropping. As she anticipated, the door opened, then she watched as the two janitors exited the room. Once they were gone, Sadalia peered her head in the door’s opening. She noticed Principal Pipplemell and her secretary were still in there surveying the situation. And right behind where they stood, Sadalia saw just what the topic of their discussion was, and became instantly baffled.

“What the heck?” she let out.

But even the whispered utterances of her words attracted the attention of Pipplemell and her secretary. They both looked up, and turned to the doorway. Thankfully, Sadalia took cover before they could see her. But soon she could hear one of them coming towards the door, most likely intent on closing it again since neither of the ignorant janitors did it themselves.

It was at this moment the elf reporter knew that this was her cue to retreat and leave the scene for now.

◊ ◊ ◊

“It was all chewed up! At least...that’s what it looked like to me.”

Sadalia was walking through a different hall of the high school with her best friend, Althea. It was now the end of the school day, and the two teenage girls were both heading to their lockers.

“Chewed up as in bites taken out of it?” the cyclops inquired. She thought that was an unusual way to describe a school security system being destroyed.

“I guess...who knows?” Sadalia answered. “But what I do know is that Pipplemell wants to cover it all up and not tell us about it. Like it’s some big secret! Again.”

“Well, in that case, I wonder who—or what—could’ve done it.”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

That stunned Althea. “Wait, what?”

“I need a juicy new topic for the next edition of The Fortnightly Dragon, and I think I just found it,” the elf reporter reasoned.

“But Sal, how are you going to get the scoop if the teachers refuse to say anything?”

Sadalia stopped walking and turned to face her BFF. “Althea, have you met me? Who’s the girl who wrote that amazingly awesome article about Ian and Barley’s quest six months ago? Where even then the whole scoop was in pieces?”

“Oh, yeah, good point,” the cyclops chuckled, then the girls kept on walking.

“Every other week since that story, I’ve been trying to figure out the next biggest, wildest story ever to write about,” Sadalia continued. “Sure, I’ve written some more after it, but none of them have had that same sorta...oomph as that one. But this one is big, I can feel it. Maybe not as big as the Curse Dragon, but it’s close. And I’m going to get that story.”

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian paced back and forth in the halls. He wasn’t far from the history classroom in which he was supposed to meet with Mr. Vance.

As the teenage elf stalled in his time to go and see his teacher, he muttered to himself, “you see, Mr. Vance...uh...this medallion...I...I couldn’t bring it here today because...because my brother is stupid and wouldn’t let me!” Then he shook his head. “No, no, no, no, no, Barley’s not stupid. But still, he has what I wanted to show! Argh!” Ian sighed in distress. This self-talk wasn’t getting him anywhere. “What am I going to do? How is Vance ever going to take me seriously? How is anyone ever going to take me seriously? I don’t—”

“Hey, Ian, whatcha doin’?” asked Sadalia as she and Althea were now coming up on their wizard friend.

This, of course, caught Ian by surprise. “Oh, uh, n-nothing, hi! Just, uh, y-you know, hangin’ out,” he said as he awkwardly leaned against the lockers, and let out a nervous chuckle.

“Oooookay...” Althea said.

“I don’t know, it looked like you were pacing around, worrying about something,” Sadalia remarked.

“I was? Huh. I-I didn’t notice,” Ian claimed, still trying to play it cool, even as a small strand of his hair got in his face. As soon as he felt it, he attempted to blow it back, but it clearly wasn’t working. So he had to push it back in place with a hand instead. Then he forced a grin on his face.

“It’s cool. Seriously. I do it, like, all the time when I’m trying to get to the bottom of something—like right now, for instance. I was just telling Althea about this new story I’m really itching to investigate. Want the deets?”

Looking behind Sadalia and Althea, Ian could see Mr. Vance walking into the history classroom where he and the teacher were supposed to meet. All this time, the younger Lightfoot thought his teacher was already in there waiting for him to show up. But now a jumpy Ian realized he was only wasting precious time. He just had to get over there.

“Uh, Ian?” Sadalia said. “Helloooo? Ian?”

For some reason, he seemed distracted about something. So she decided to snap her fingers to try and get her friend’s attention.

The elf reporter knew it had worked when Ian looked directly at her and Althea again, and responded with a confused, “huh?”

“Were you listening?”

“Uh, y-yeah, s-sorry...I-I was listening...I just...” He paused, looking over both his friends’ shoulders again. “Look, I-I’d love to hear about it, Sadalia, I really would, but, um...I actually have to meet with Mr. Vance about something.”

Once he got his excuse out, Ian brushed past the girls, and went straight for the classroom. The longer he let this secret hang, the more chances it took for people to know about it.

But as Althea and Sadalia watched the elf wizard make his way over to their history classroom, they both grew puzzled looks on their faces.

“Uh...what was that all about?” Althea questioned.

But Sadalia, who usually had a theory about everything, just shrugged.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 8 ◊

With or Without

Ian approached the doors of his history classroom, where he and Mr. Vance promised to meet to look at the S.S. Medallion together. After taking a short breath in and out, the teenage elf knocked. Then opening the right door slightly, he peeped his head through and looked inside. In an instant, he saw Mr. Vance.

“Ah, Ian, come in!” the teacher said happily.

“Hey, Mr. Vance,” Ian said as he swiftly went through the door.

The bespectacled elf was sitting at Ms. Traven’s desk. Though for some reason, he’d rearranged it so that—instead of having the person sitting there face the wall where the blackboard was—it was now facing the doors.

Something about that told Ian that Ms. Traven wasn’t coming back anytime soon like Mr. Vance had said, and that the new teacher was making himself comfortable. But he also knew that Mr. Vance was expecting to see the medallion in person, and was going to be disappointed when he realized the teenage elf didn’t bring it. Sensing this moment coming, Ian wanted to find some quick way to stall time temporarily. That’s when he also noticed that the lights in the classroom were turned off.

“Want me to turn on the lights for you?” he asked Mr. Vance, reaching an index finger towards the room’s light switch.

“Oh, no, no, no, you can leave them...if that’s all right with you,” the teacher said. “Personally, I’m not a huge fan of lights. Especially on a day like today where it is absolutely bright and sunny outside. But now that I think about it, would you mind shutting that door for me?”

Ian nodded, then did as he was asked. Afterwards, he walked towards Mr. Vance. He really wasn’t sure how his teacher would take him not having the medallion. But as he made it to the teacher’s desk, the teenage elf figured he could just spit it out at this point.

“I...I’m sorry, Mr. Vance, but I...I didn’t bring the medallion with me,” he finally admitted while rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness.

At first, Mr. Vance seemed a little triggered, but then he held his composure. “Is there any reason why?” he asked, slowly and calmly.

Ian sighed. “It’s Barley. You see, he and I...well...” he began to say as placed both of his hands under his armpits. “W-we...we were, uh...originally going to research the medallion together ’cause, you know, w-we both found it, and-and Barley is really into magic, quests, and all that stuff.” He paused briefly, then turned his head to the side, looking away from Mr. Vance. “But then when I told him about wanting to bring the medallion to you today...y-you know, for you to look at...he, um...he got kinda mad.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Mr. Vance asked with concern, now leaning inward.

A pensive Ian shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, he just...really wanted to keep this whole talisman research between the two of us,” he explained, then he gave a small chuckle. “We’ve gotten pretty close after we went on this epic quest together.”

“I see,” Mr. Vance said. Then leaning back in his chair, he added, “well, I completely understand if you don’t want to bring the talisman to me.”

That’s it? Ian thought. He’s that cool with this?

The teenage elf was at first relieved about this, but soon his mind traced back to the real reason why he wanted to meet with Mr. Vance about the medallion in the first place. Not just to bring it to him for inspection, but to also figure out its purpose. Somehow, Ian had a feeling Mr. Vance knew more about the S.S. Medallion than he was letting on that he, for some reason, was hiding away. There just had to be some way to get it out of him! But then, the younger Lightfoot remembered exactly why Barley was mad yesterday, and why—as of this moment—he didn’t have the medallion with him.

“But wait, Mr. Vance...doesn’t the medallion...belong to you?” Ian carefully asked his teacher. The expert of artifacts didn’t entirely make that fact clear about the talisman yesterday. But once Ian knew—yes or no, it did or didn’t belong to Mr. Vance—he figured then he could make things up with Barley, and the quest could be theirs again.

“Uh, mmm...” Mr. Vance said at first, like he was caught by surprise. Placing a hand on his chin, he put on an expression of serious thinking, then he said, “no, it doesn’t actually belong to me.”

Ian felt staggered. It didn’t belong to his teacher? How could that be? Mr. Vance had told the teenage elf that he had it in his possession before. He even had a picture with proof! So what was he doing with the medallion when he had it?

“It doesn’t?” Ian asked, expressing his own surprise. Then with a sense of growing suspicion, he furrowed his brows. “So then...who does it belong to? And why are you so interested in it?”

His teacher had already asked him that question. So what harm was there in asking him the same thing?

Mr. Vance once again thought about this question deeply, then after a few moments, he finally said, “I don’t know who it belongs to now...but I have held it before as I said. I actually owned it for quite some time. A long time ago, in fact. It’s a wondrous sight, that medallion...with its shiny shades of red and gold.”

The teacher had a brief look of nostalgia on his face before he carried on with his answer.

“I’ve spent the last several years studying magic, particularly magical artifacts, because they may seem ordinary on the outside, but deep inside—they have power. GREAT power! And for me, that’s just...it’s just so fascinating! And to have the opportunity to raise awareness that magic has returned to our world...that’s been great, too.”

Ian nodded as he listened to Mr. Vance give his reasoning. As the teenage elf thought about it, he realized it was almost exactly the reason why he himself wanted to learn more about this medallion. He had mastered all the things Barley had always taught him when it came to magic: speaking from his Heart’s Fire, using what he had, following the magic decrees, looking for the least obvious path, and more. But because magic was making its return after being forgotten for centuries, learning as much as he could about it from all sides, not just from the wizard’s side, was Ian’s top priority.

“But why this medallion you’re wondering...” Mr. Vance continued. It sounded like he was getting to the point. “Well, you could say that...I was lucky. Years ago, I went on this expedition, looking for something that could give me a big break in my magical studies. After doing some digging, I had found it—the S.S. Medallion—and discovered that it did indeed have magic. I couldn’t...believe it...” he paused, reminiscing the thought of the talisman. “More than anything I wanted to learn all about its many, magnificent properties.”

Just then, his face fell as a look of sorrow took over. “But then, as I said...I lost it. Just before I could truly see through its potential, I ran into some very snooty people who thought they knew better how to use it. They cornered me, and then they took it away. But I knew the truth. All they wanted to do was lock it away, never to be used again! I thought then that it was lost forever...”

It took Mr. Vance a few moments to overcome his dejection, but then he looked his student straight in the eye. “But you, Ian. You found it. And I’m so glad you did...’cause now we could both uncover its secrets.”

Ian felt honored. With each minute gone by, his fears from earlier this morning were fading away with Mr. Vance’s assurance and explanation. “So...y-you believe me, then? That I have it?”

“Of course I do,” a beaming Mr. Vance said, leaning back in his chair again. “I know you’re smart, determined, and interested in magic like I am. We need more people like that in this world.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Ian said with a chuckle. He couldn’t agree more. Magic had changed his life and was continuing to make it even more interesting. This S.S. Medallion showing up had made him feel more curious, focused, and persistent than ever. But now that the teenage elf had an answer from Mr. Vance about what his goal with the medallion was, Ian wanted to get back to business. “so...this medallion has a special kind of magic?”

“Yes,” the teacher nodded.

“But you don’t know what it does?”

“Well...you have it...what do you think it does?”

Ian stammered. “I...I don’t know! I have no idea what it does! And there’s no way I can know if my brother won’t let me bring it to you! And I’m sure as Zadar he still won’t and will still keep it from me if it doesn’t actually belong to you...”

“He’s really making this difficult for you, huh?” Mr. Vance asked, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Well...” Ian wondered, then he realized his teacher was right, “yeah.”

Mr. Vance placed his hand on his chin once more and went, “hmm...”

“Do you think there’s any way we could research the medallion together without it in person? I mean, I know I don’t have it with me, but...I would still really like to know what its purpose is, anyway.”

“Yes, I know...but I’m just wondering how we could do that...”

Both he and Ian were silent as they thought about what to do. Until the teacher’s face brightened with an idea.

“You know, Ian...I just admire how curious you’ve been about this whole thing. Knowing exactly what you want, asking questions...would you mind if maybe I...asked a few of my own?”

Ian was a little puzzled by this. “Like what?” he asked. But then his teacher got up and strode towards the student desks.

“Like, for example, if you would like a seat. I mean, I’ve just been noticing that you’ve been standing there for a while now, which you can still do if you want, but—”

“Oh...y-yeah, sure! That’s...wow, why didn’t I think of that?”

Mr. Vance motioned Ian to join him at two student desks, which they arranged to be across from each other. For some reason, it made the teenage elf feel like he was in a counseling session. A part of him didn’t mind that since, right now, he was talking to someone he was beginning to trust more than Barley when it came to advice. But like yesterday, Ian was really not expecting the conversation to go this way.

After he and Mr. Vance sat down, the teacher clasped his hands together and asked, “Now then, Ian...would you say your brother is sometimes...oh, I don’t know...controlling?”

Ian was surprised by this question. “Controlling, how?”

“Meaning, are there times where he puts himself in charge without giving you any say in a situation?” Mr. Vance clarified.

“I mean, yeah...maybe...sometimes...I don’t know. He does love playing Quests of Yore, where part of the game is making up your own rules.”

The game had instantly clicked into Mr. Vance’s mind. “Ah, yes! The historically-based adventure game!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ian said.

He couldn’t help but be amazed that an adult like Mr. Vance knew about it. Of course, if his teacher knew all sorts of things about magical artifacts, then knowing about Quests of Yore seemed obvious.

“Man, for someone really into magic and role-playing games, I’m quite surprised he doesn’t know more than I do about this medallion,” Mr. Vance remarked.

“Yeah, me too,” Ian pondered, rapidly blinking his eyes. He did think it was a little weird that Barley seriously didn’t know anything about this medallion. “But we’ve looked through every magic book he has, including his Quests of Yore guidebook, and found nothing about it.”

“Well, I did mention in class yesterday that extremely rare artifacts such as this medallion are tricky to find in books,” his teacher reminded him.

“I also checked the school library and couldn’t find anything in their books, either,” Ian added.

Mr. Vance stood up from his chair and walked away from it, having his back to the teenage elf. “Then it seems this medallion is nowhere to be found in any source material.”

“Well, yeah, I-I know that now, but...what about the photo in your presentation?” Ian asked as he shifted to face Mr. Vance. “Can’t we use that?”

“It only shows one side of the medallion. It’s no good,” he said, turning around and stroking his chin.

“Don’t you have any other pictures?”

The teenage elf was desperate to try any solution he could think of, including photos—which he also couldn’t find on the internet—to figure out the mystery of this medallion.

Mr. Vance sighed. “Nope, that’s the only good one I have. And before you ask, the other one is just a zoomed out version of it being held in the same angle. So...kinda useless.”

Of his teacher holding it, Ian figured. He thought about this for a few seconds. It seemed to him that his teacher only had the S.S. Medallion for a short amount of time before he lost it. So only having one good obscure picture of it made sense to the teenage elf now. But still, he began to feel resigned.

“Then...maybe I should just try and convince Barley to give it to me,” he said as he looked down at his twiddling thumbs. “I mean, he should know how important this is to me.”

“Oh, but does he?” Mr. Vance questioned.

Ian looked up in surprise. “Huh?”

“I mean, come on! If he knew how important this was to you, he would’ve just let you bring the medallion here today, don’t you think?”

“Well, I-I don’t know, maybe,” Ian considered, then he furrowed his brows again. “I thought he’d want to study it with us, but...he doesn’t. He wants to wait for the Manticore to come back from her trip and see what she says.”

For a split second, Mr. Vance’s eyes read a twinge of fear. Then tightly shutting and opening them again, his face read bewilderment. “Well, that’s just crazy! Who wants to wait that long to uncover the secrets of a rare talisman?”

“I know! It’s...it’s strange...I-I don’t know why he’s acting like this...it’s not...it’s not like him.”

Mr. Vance thought about it, then he said, “I think the answer to that is simple, Ian.”

“What do you mean?” the teenage elf asked.

“Perhaps it’s possible that...you don’t know your brother as well as you think you do.”

Ian felt his heart drop. “Wh-what...n-no,” he stammered, then he grew another frown. “You-you’re wrong. Barley has been my brother my whole life! I know exactly who he is.”

“And yet...he doesn’t seem to know who you are.”

Ian opened his mouth and pointed an index finger in the air. He was tempted to argue this, but another part of him wondered if his teacher was right.

Then Mr. Vance came up to the teenage elf, kneeled down to be eye level with him and asked, “Ian, do you know who you are?”

“Uh...of-of course. I-I think I do.”

“That’s great! Then the next step is this: you don’t need your brother to tell you what to do. You are Ian Lightfoot! You are free to make your own choices! If there’s something you really, really want, then I say you take it!”

“I...I don’t know...I mean, this was kind of...our thing, me and Barley’s.”

Mr. Vance made a brief scowl, but then he swiftly loosened up. “Come on, kid, he’s clearly not interested in this as much as you are,” he argued as he stood up and had his back to his student again. “If you ask me, all he’s doing is being bossy and wanting things to be his way. Now what kind of brother does that make him? A controlling one, that’s what.”

It came back to Ian for a second time today. The moment Barley pushed him away. Barley taking the medallion from him. Barley shoving him to the ground. Barley not wanting to hear anymore from him. The downcast teenage elf clenched his fists.

“Yeah, well...it’s super annoying. I feel like he NEVER listens to me!” he complained, starting to get angry. “Grr! Why does he always have to make everything about him?!”

“He could just be trying to protect you,” Mr. Vance suggested.

“Protect me from WHAT?!” Ian asked furiously, tugging at his jeans. “Finding out the truth?! But doesn’t he want me to know the truth?!”

It was then that Mr. Vance’s words got to Ian. Barley could be controlling. Not just when he acted as Quest Master in Quests of Yore, but in real life, too!

Plus, thinking back on yesterday afternoon further, Barley didn’t exactly prove to the younger Lightfoot that he couldn’t find anything in his books on the medallion. And he had practically every book about magic and the days of yore! What if he was hiding something that he didn’t want his younger brother to know? He had done that before, so this could be no different.

If that was the case, Ian felt sure he could no longer turn to Barley for answers. So he made his choice.

Feeling bold, Ian slammed his hand on the desk as he got up from his chair, and said, “Mr. Vance, I’ll try and get the medallion for you!”

The bespectacled elf turned around and beamed in surprise. “Really?” he asked, then he walked up to the teenage elf. “Y-you’d do that? For me? But what about your brother? What if he tries to stop you?”

Though he was now more determined than ever, Ian had to admit to himself that he hadn’t quite thought that through yet. “Oh...well...uh...y-you know, I could, uh...try to be sneaky. Like, try and take the medallion without him...noticing?”

Mr. Vance nodded and smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Then Ian walked up to his teacher, no longer feeling unsure. “After that, we...we can start over. I can bring the medallion right here after school tomorrow, just like you wanted, and then you can help me figure out what it does.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Vance said, then he put a hand on the teenage elf’s shoulder. “Good luck, Ian.”

“Thanks, Mr. Vance,” Ian said, smiling. Then looking at the hand touching his shoulder, he let out a small laugh and said, “I’m gonna need all the luck in the world.”

“Well, then, off you go,” the teacher said, using his head to point to the classroom doors.

He was right. Ian had to get home. As soon as he got there, he’d wait for the perfect moment to steal the medallion back from Barley. If his older brother was going to act bossy and controlling, Ian figured the best way to deal with that was to fight with fire with fire. So he grabbed his bag and began to walk backwards out of the room.

“So...I guess I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Mr. Vance. I won’t let you down!” he said, then he turned and made his way out.

“Farewell, Ian! See you tomorrow!” the teacher called, waving goodbye.

As soon as the teenage elf opened the doors and left the room, Mr. Vance was alone once again with his thoughts. But as he stood there, rays of sunshine began to beam through the classroom windows. They landed right on him, much to his annoyance. So the bespectacled elf turned and strolled towards the windows. Grabbing the shade strings, he tugged at them to close them, then he chuckled with impudence.

“That medallion is as good as mine...”

Chapter Text

 ◊ Chapter 9 ◊ 

Distractions

“I’ll never get that medallion back!” Ian complained to himself as he plopped down on his bedroom desk chair in frustration.

It was now after dinner, and up until this point, the younger Lightfoot felt like he’d tried everything he could imagine to get the S.S. Medallion back from Barley.

But after trying for what seemed like the entire afternoon, the young wizard was now convinced that he’d only made things worse.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian’s first attempt at getting the talisman back was right when he came home from school. He slipped through the front door and noticed right away that Barley’s bedroom door wasn’t shut. The older elf never usually left it open unless he wasn’t in there. But the younger Lightfoot decided to go and take a peek inside just to be sure. Looking through the crack of his brother’s door, he didn’t see anyone in there. This seemed to him like the perfect opportunity to get in and get out with what he wanted right then and there!

But just as Ian was about to walk in, he heard a voice right behind him.

“What are you doing?”

The younger elf flinched. He turned around, and there was his older brother standing before him with his hands on his hips.

Shaken, Ian said, “oh, I, uh...nothing!” Then he looked to his right. “Just, uh...going to get a snack.”

He laughed nervously, then did as he said he was going to do and walked over to the kitchen.

Barley could’ve sworn Ian was about to walk into his bedroom or something. But he shrugged it off, then went inside and closed the door.

As soon as Barley wasn’t in the hall anymore, Ian grimaced. All he could think about right then was how easy that could’ve been. But now, the younger Lightfoot had to think of a way to get his older brother to leave the basement room. The only question was how.

As he ate from a bag of almonds at the kitchen counter, Ian tried to come up with a plan. At one point, his finger slipped and he accidentally dropped one of the seeds on the floor. Blazey, having heard it instantly, came running over. She couldn’t resist any food that happened to drop down from above. So she tried to grab the almond before Ian could.

“Blazey, no! Don’t eat that, girl!” the teenage elf said as he swiftly picked up the piece from the ground. Then he went over and grabbed one of the dragon’s favorite toys. “Here’s something much better, your fireball!”

He put the rounded toy into Blazey’s mouth, and once the dragon gave it a squeak, she happily started playing with it.

“Good girl,” Ian said as he knelt down to pet her for a bit. Afterwards, he went back to eating his almonds and thinking.

But as he got up from the floor, Ian noticed Barley’s Quests of Yore game set up on the dining room table. He figured his brother must’ve led a campaign while he was at school today. As the teenage elf chewed on more almonds, his eyes focused back and forth from watching Blazey chew on her ball to the unique figurines placed in Barley’s game. Putting two and two together, an idea began to form in Ian’s head.

He walked over to Barley’s door and stood next to it, wanting to ensure that his brother heard what he was about to yell—or rather, pretend to yell.

“Oh, no! Blazey! Don’t eat that girl!” Ian said loudly with a subtle lack of seriousness in his voice. “That’s one of Barley’s favorite Quests of Yore pieces! Drop it!”

As soon as he was sure he heard Barley charging up the stairs from his basement room, Ian ran over and got the piece he was thinking of off the table. It was a customized figurine of Alora the Majestic—a satyr who was one of the greatest wizards in all of yore, thanks to her wits and cleverness. Ian placed the figure next to Blazey, who was hanging out with her fireball on her dragon bed.

“All right, girl, do what you want to this piece,” Ian quietly instructed, “while I get the medallion from Barley’s room.”

He then ran over to the chair in the living room and hid behind it so he could watch Barley come out and be distracted before sneaking into his bedroom.

As Ian had hoped, Barley did come out of his room and witness Blazey about to seize his precious Alora figurine.

“Doest this dragon dareth to attack Alora the Majestic?” the older elf proclaimed in his medieval speech, though deep down he was still worried Blazey would gravely damage Alora if the dragon got too involved with her. So he approached Blazey, and reached for the figurine, only for the long green dragon to scoop it up and make her escape!

“Come on, Blazey, drop it!” Barley commanded.

But the pet dragon was beginning to think she had found her new favorite toy. Like the massive, fierce ancestors before her, Blazey brought Alora close to her lair, then set her down and breathed fire around her, attacking the mini wizard as if she were taking part in a real adventure game—where the dragon was the formidable adversary. As fun as Barley thought this setup was, he could get real touchy when their pet dragon—or anyone who didn’t take Quests of Yore as seriously as he did—got anywhere near his pewter figures. This one in particular was a rare collectible!

As Ian saw all of this unfold from behind the chair, he thought now was his chance to sneak over to Barley’s room and grab the S.S. Medallion. He quickly, but quietly walked through the living room and got to the hallway where the bedroom was located. He snuck down, then arrived at the threshold of the door.

But as Ian was about to step into Barley’s room once more, he heard his older brother shout from the kitchen, “got her!”

This made the younger elf wince in failure.

Dang it! he thought angrily. Then he backed away from the door just as the older Lightfoot entered the hall with the now slobbered figurine. Luckily, it wasn’t damaged too badly.

“Thanks for warning me about Alora, Ian,” the older elf said as he came through. “No great wizard deserves to be eaten by a mighty dragon.” Then he stepped back into his room and closed the door again.

With that, Ian was now officially back to the drawing board. So he took out his notebook and began to write down other ideas.

◊ ◊ ◊

Among other things Ian tried to do to get Barley to leave his room were:

• Chores
• Mom wants to talk to you
• Play music WAY too loud

As brilliant-minded as Ian thought all these distractions were, each and every one of them backfired in one way or another.

◊ ◊ ◊

First on the list was reminding Barley to do his chores, which couldn’t all be done from his basement bedroom.

Ian knew that it would not only make their mother happy, but it would also most definitely help him get the S.S. Medallion back. Especially considering Barley was one to put off his chores every once in a while.

So the younger Lightfoot sent him a text to remind him that their mother wanted him to finish his chores. After all, who better to seemingly command this duty than their own mighty warrior mother?

But Ian was soon surprised when Barley responded back right away saying that he had done them all already. With this, the younger elf drew the conclusion that his older brother had only done them just so he could use this afternoon to guard the medallion.

So crossing off the first item, Ian realized that this sneaky steal called for desperate measures.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian’s next idea was simply telling Barley that their mom wanted to talk to him about something, even though the truth was, she didn’t really. Still, to Ian’s pleasure, he could see from the top of the stairs that this did get Barley to come out of his room.

Laurel was in the living room, having just gotten a package from outside, when Barley walked over to her.

“Hey, Mom, Ian said you wanted to talk to me,” he said, and Laurel looked at her older son, confused.

“He did? Huh. Well, don’t worry, honey, you’re not in trouble,” she said. Meanwhile, Ian was now on his way to Barley’s room again. That was, until he heard his mother say, “in fact, I could use both of your opinions on these shoes I just ordered,” then she looked over and noticed her younger son. “Hey, Ian, can you come over here, and help me and Barley decide between these shoes?”

Now Ian just wanted to hit something. But instead, he collected himself when he remembered he had another idea to distract his brother after this one. So Ian did as he was asked and went over to the living room to help Barley and his mother decide on shoes.

Laurel tried both pairs on, then asked her sons which ones looked the best on her. Neither Barley nor Ian were the greatest when it came to picking one pair of shoes over the other. To them, shoes were just shoes. So they both decided to just pick a random pair, then move on with their days.

“That one,” both brothers said, except they were each pointing at different pairs.

Ian and Barley looked at each other when they both realized they’d reached yet another disagreement—albeit a small one.

Since this didn’t really help Laurel in making a one over the other decision, she simply decided to keep both pairs of shoes.

With that foregone conclusion reached, Barley once again returned to his room and shut the door. As for Ian, he returned to his list. He crossed off the idea that just took place, then read the next one under it.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian went back upstairs to his room, grabbed his phone, and opened his music playlist. He put together a queue of the most hardcore songs he could think of so he could play them at full blast for the whole house to hear. If his older brother was going to act all authoritative towards him, then the older Lightfoot would surely know that this was wrong and be annoyed by it. Ian’s vision was that Barley would come out of his room and complain to his younger brother to turn it down. Except his younger brother wouldn’t be there when he came up the stairs to complain. Instead, the younger elf would be down in Barley’s room, grabbing the S.S. Medallion while the older elf was distracted.

So without a moment to lose, Ian played some music—then turned the volume ALL the way up. It was SO loud that not even he could handle it. As Ian covered his ears, he figured if he didn’t leave his room soon, his eardrums would explode—and Barley would probably start coming up the stairs before he even had the chance to sneak down without him noticing. So the younger Lightfoot left his room immediately, charged down the stairs, and hid behind the living room chair again. He waited for Barley to come out as he continued covering his ears. Even downstairs, the music was unbearable.

But after about thirty seconds, Barley’s door remained closed.

Why isn’t he coming out? Ian wondered. Can he even hear my music playing? It’s SO loud!

But Barley did hear the music. Only, instead of covering his ears like Ian—or coming out to complain, no less—he was leaning back on his bed, bopping his head and enjoying himself. He was absolutely loving it!

Back out in the living room, Ian noticed Blazey had taken refuge behind the couch. The deafening music was scaring her as she started whimpering and tried covering her own ears.

“SORRY, BLAZEY!” Ian shouted through what was more noise than music. “UGH!”

Then he continued to watch and see if Barley would come out. But for some reason, the basement door just wasn’t opening.

Outside the Lightfoot house, Laurel was watering the flowers by the front windows when she began to hear the extra loud music coming from inside. Even the neighbors and people walking by could hear it. They each gave her looks.

As Laurel shook her head in embarrassment, she had a pretty good idea who was behind this. So she stopped what she was doing, and went towards the front door.

“BARLEY! I KNOW YOU LOVE YOUR HEAVY METAL, BUT CAN YOU PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ZADAR TURN IT DOWN?!” Laurel shouted as she entered the house and covered her ears. The music was even louder inside than out. “YOU CAN PRACTICALLY HEAR IT FROM ALL THE WAY DOWN THE STREET!”

Ian stayed hidden behind the chair. Perhaps his mother could get Barley to come out. There was no way he could defy her. Both Ian and Laurel waited, until finally, Barley did come out of his room. But unlike everyone else, he was not bothered by the deathly loud music.

“I’M NOT PLAYING IT!” the older Lightfoot shouted as he casually began dancing to it. “BUT WHOEVER IS, I’M LIKING IT!”

Soon Laurel used her senses to figure out where the sound of the music was really coming from, and it pointed her upstairs.

“IAN! I KNOW YOU’RE UP THERE! SO CAN YOU PLEASE TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN?!” she shouted.

Except Ian couldn’t turn it down. He was downstairs like the rest of his family. He was beginning to think he’d let this plan spiral out of control.

Since Laurel wasn’t getting any response from upstairs—whether it be the music getting turned down or turned off, or a simple apology—she shook her head once more, and began walking up the stairs.

For Ian, this was so NOT going his way. All he really wanted was for Barley to go upstairs. That was why he was playing the music so loudly in the first place. But the younger elf could see that he wasn’t. In fact, looking out from behind the chair, he couldn’t see Barley at all anymore. Ian began to wonder if the older elf had gone back into his basement room again, when suddenly—

“BOO!”

Ian immediately jumped. As if the loud music wasn’t already scary enough, he was so terrified by this sneak attack that he ended up falling face down to the floor. Then he turned over, and there was his brother, standing right above him before his very eyes.

“GOTCHA!” Barley shouted, giggling a little. “SURPRISED?!”

Surprised was an understatement to Ian. He was hyperventilating, and his heart had begun to pound faster. He wasn’t just surprised. Barley had scared the living life out of him!

After Ian stood up on his own two feet again, the music from upstairs was finally turned off. With the exception of Barley, everyone’s ears were relieved. Just as Blazey came out from hiding behind the couch and scurried away, Laurel came down the stairs with Ian’s smartphone in her hands. It was her evidence that proved where the loud music was actually coming from this time. Then she noticed her younger son was also downstairs.

“Ian, would you care to explain to me why I found your phone in your room blaring extremely loud music? And why I didn’t find you in there?” she asked with a slightly stern tone as she walked up to her two boys. “And I thought blasting loud music was your thing, Barley.”

“True,” her older son said with a smirk, then he began to ruffle Ian’s curly hair. “You tryin’ to make a metalhead out of yourself, little bro?”

An irked Ian didn’t answer him. Instead, he fixed his hair, and put it back the way it was originally. He didn’t feel like having his older brother put out of place today—for obvious reasons. He was feeling uncomfortable. The last thing Ian wanted to do at this very moment was admit to his mother and Barley that he was trying to steal back the S.S. Medallion from his brother’s room. However, he did feel the need to apologize for what just happened.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Ian finally said faintly.

He wanted quiet after practically listening to heavy metal for what seemed like hours. Then the youngest Lightfoot quickly devised what he thought was a reasonable excuse.

“I was playing the music...I...I didn’t realize how loud it was going to get. But I let it play...and I came downstairs for, uh...uh...” He looked around, then saw a drinking glass on the kitchen counter. “Water! Yeah, that’s it! A drink of water! And...after I got it, the music just got too loud, and it was really hurting my ears. So I, uh, hid behind this chair...and-and waited for it to stop on its own...until you came and turned it off, that is, heh heh. So, uh, yeah...”

Ian hoped that his mother and brother would buy this excuse, but all they did was stare at him with straight faces.

So then he sighed sadly and said, “it won’t happen again.”

Laurel and Barley glanced at each other, then Laurel looked back at Ian. Her face still read some suspicion, but she relented.

“All right then,” the Lightfoot matriarch said tiredly as she handed Ian’s phone back to him. Then she headed for the front door. “I’m going back outside. I’m sure the flowers need some more water after all that chaos.”

Afterwards, it was just Barley and Ian in the living room now.

“Man, for a second there, I was hoping you were in the heavy metal zone,” the older elf said to his younger brother with a laugh.

But all Ian could do was fake a laugh. Clutching his smartphone to his chest, he still felt a little shaky after his plan turned ferociously dangerous for the ears. And that same danger didn’t help him any further in getting the medallion back.

The younger elf should’ve known Barley wouldn’t be bothered by extremely loud music. His older brother definitely saw it more as a joy than an annoyance, and this plan certainly proved that. And like the others, it failed—big time.

It was then that Ian began to think that Mr. Vance was right. Maybe it was possible that he didn’t know his brother at all. But that thought didn’t make him any less upset. In fact, it made him feel worse.

Soon Barley noticed his younger brother’s distress and grew a look of concern on his face. “Hey, y-you okay?” he asked gently. “Methinks you’ve been acting strangely today.”

Ian looked up at his brother’s face. It seemed so genuine. But deep down, he knew Barley was only using that kindness act to get him to admit that he was trying to steal the medallion back.

He’s onto me, he thought. I’ve made it too obvious. I need to go.

“Oh, uh...it’s, uh, nothing, really,” Ian lied out loud with a trembling voice.

Of course, Barley didn’t buy this at all. “Are you sure?” he asked. “’Cause I care about you, Ian, and you know I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and if you want to—”

“I have to go,” Ian interrupted, feeling emotional.

“But Ian—” Barley began, then without warning, Ian brushed past his brother and ran up the stairs without saying a word. And like yesterday, he was soon out of the older elf’s sight.

Barley was worried about his little brother. He was acting super unusual this afternoon. For some reason, Ian accidentally thought the kitchen was in his room, let Blazey almost destroy his Alora the Majestic miniature without really trying to stop her, and finally, played ear-piercing music when that wasn’t even his younger brother’s thing at all.

Something’s going on with him, Barley thought.

Then that something clicked in his head. Ian had gone to meet with his new so-called teacher earlier today about the talisman—which the older Lightfoot was keeping from him right now, and that same teacher—whatever his name was—wanted to study it in person. With that in mind, Barley deduced right then that Ian was trying to force him out of his room, and get the talisman back for this teacher to see.

That just has to be it, the older elf’s thoughts concluded.

He was hurting his brother, he could feel it—and it was really beginning to make him feel bad. But there was just something about this teacher of Ian’s that rubbed him the wrong way. He felt it in his gut. But what to do about it, Barley wasn’t sure. After pacing around and thinking it through for a bit, he finally made his way back to his room.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian came up with one final attempt at getting the medallion back that didn’t make his list. It was his closest one yet, but also the simplest. It involved knocking on Barley’s door and calling him for dinner. Ian made sure to come down early to do just that. When Laurel gave him the signal that dinner was ready, he called Barley, then hid behind the living room wall.

He watched as the older elf came out of his room and sat down at the dinner table, his back to his bedroom door.

This is my chance, Ian thought.

At long last, he felt free. He also felt like after all the effort he put in this afternoon that this steal was almost too easy now.

So with that, the younger Lightfoot bolted straight for Barley’s room without his brother or mother noticing. Finally crossing the threshold, he ran quietly down the stairs, and went straight for the desk drawer where Barley had stuffed the talisman. But when Ian opened it all the way, he was horrified.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” he cried softly.

The medallion was gone.

Ian looked above and below his brother’s desk, but it wasn’t there. All he could find underneath was what was once a half-eaten ham sandwich was now a half-eaten hairy sandwich. This only disgusted the younger elf further. It was clear to him that Barley had moved the medallion somewhere else in the room. Ian should’ve known his own brother would do something like that. He figured Barley must have caught on to his distractions. With that realization, the younger Lightfoot sighed in defeat.

“What am I going to do now?” he quietly asked himself. But soon he heard his mother calling him from upstairs.

“Ian, your dinner’s getting cold!” she said. When Ian didn’t answer right away, he then heard her say, “Barley, could you go get your brother and tell him it’s time to eat?”

“Sure, Mom,” Barley said.

Inside, Ian began to panic. Barley was going to find him in his room and figure out that he was trying to steal the medallion! With no time to think of another brilliant plan, the younger Lightfoot dashed up the stairs—hoping to get to the top before Barley could find him there. But as soon as Ian reached the door, he found himself face to face with a smug Barley. He was caught.

“Barley, I didn’t mean—”

“—to distract me, force me to come out of my room, sneak into my room, and find the medallion in my desk drawer,” the older elf finished for him in a low voice so that their mother wouldn’t hear them.

“But...it wasn’t there!” a flushed Ian corrected him in a whisper. “What did you—”

“I moved it,” Barley admitted. “Somewhere you’ll never find it...”

Afterwards, he strutted back over to the dinner table, completely satisfied—leaving his brother on the verge of an angry explosion.

He’s doing it again, Ian thought with rage. Trying to protect me! Ugh! Some big bro he is...

The younger elf then marched with heavy steps over to the table and joined the rest of his family. As he sat down and began to eat, Ian promised himself to hold his emotions in as best as he could until he got back to his room. Then he’d start ranting again.

◊ ◊ ◊

Thinking back on each of his attempts from this afternoon in the comfort of his own bedroom, Ian felt miserable. Now more than ever, he was very irritated that none of his ideas to get the S.S. Medallion back were working. No thanks to Barley and his protective, controlling ways.

Ian had never seen his brother act like this before. He didn’t understand what was with him lately. Barley used to share everything with his younger brother, and take every chance possible to spread magic awareness and go on new adventures, no matter how big or small. But now, he was just giving up—as if out of nowhere taking chances was a bad thing and keeping things hidden away was a good thing. Whatever this act was—kindness, rigidness, protection, control, or whatever—it was really starting to get on Ian’s nerves.

The younger Lightfoot was running out of time. He needed that medallion for tomorrow. He promised that he would bring it to Mr. Vance for real this time, and Ian didn’t want to break that promise—or any more promises for that matter. But like Mr. Vance had said earlier, Barley was making this difficult.

Where could he possibly be hiding the medallion now? Ian wondered, and he kept on wondering as he turned in for the night.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 10 ◊

A Last-Ditch Effort

The next morning, Ian felt absolutely tense. He had to sneak into Barley’s room and find the S.S. Medallion now. And not just the medallion, but its new hiding place as well! The younger Lightfoot knew it still had to be somewhere in his brother’s room because if the older elf had hid it outside his room, their mother would most definitely find it. She did have a habit of finding loose things around the house, particularly things that belonged to Barley.

Thinking this through, Ian made himself some cereal for breakfast, then he sat down to eat it at the dining room table. Though very soon after settling in, he began to hear his mother doing her usual chastising to Barley in the kitchen.

“Barley, Colt is coming over for dinner tonight and you haven’t showered in four days,” she said sternly. “I’d like you to go upstairs and clean yourself off.”

“But Mom—” Barley began to protest, but Laurel cut him off.

“No buts! Otherwise, I would like your keys to Guinevere the Second for the rest of the week,” she warned as she held out her hand.

Both Barley and Ian knew firsthand that when their mother was serious about a condition, she’d threaten to take Guinevere the Second’s keys away. It was one of Barley’s biggest weaknesses—especially since it was only the middle of the week. There was no way he could give that up.

“Okay, fine...” he relented. “I’ll shower...”

“Thank you,” Laurel said in satisfaction, then she headed towards the living room to begin her morning exercise routine.

Ian wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was entirely thankful to his mom from the bottom of his heart. At long last, Barley actually had to do something that would keep him out of his bedroom. Best of all, it would be long enough to give the younger elf what he hoped would be plenty of time to search for the S.S. Medallion and its new hiding place.

As Ian smiled and giggled with a mix of happiness and relief over this turn of events, a complacent Barley leaned in on him—knowing exactly what his younger brother was thinking.

“Don’t hold your breath, Sir Iandore,” he said, causing the jumpscared younger Lightfoot to almost choke on the cereal he was eating. “I’m telling you, you’re not gonna find it...”

Afterwards, the older elf turned away and headed for the stairs. But his sarcastic, singsong encouragement only made Ian roll his eyes.

“I wasn’t holding my breath,” the younger elf said back with defiance, then before taking a bite from another spoonful of cereal he’d just scooped up, he muttered to himself, “I’ll show him.” After that, he gorged down the rest of it.

With now an empty bowl, Ian took a quick glimpse over at the living room and saw that his mother had begun her workout. She seemed focused enough on the TV’s exercise program that she wouldn’t notice her younger son sneaking into her older son’s room.

So without any time to lose, Ian went for it, hoping that here and now this would be the last time he’d ever have to do this.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian poked his head into Barley’s room. His brother had turned off the lights, so he flipped the switch back on and the room began to glow. From the top of the stairs, Ian scanned the area to figure out where to start searching. Barley’s room wasn’t the most organized space, but that was typical. Yet considering that he had hidden the S.S. Medallion somewhere else now, it could be anywhere. Ian didn’t have that much time to look for it. Not only did he have to go to school, but he didn’t really know how long Barley was going to be in the shower, either. So in short, he had to be quick.

With the first few steps down the somewhat squeaky stairs, Ian tried to be quiet so that his mother wouldn’t hear him. Then once he got towards the middle, he stepped down faster with each stair. Soon both his feet touched the bedroom floor, and to him that meant there was no turning back. Ian put his backpack down at the bottom of the stairs, then rubbing his hands together, he surveyed the space in front of him once more. He decided to check the desk drawer one more time to make sure the medallion wasn’t there, and sure enough—it was still gone. So he closed it and tried to decide where to look next.

There were many spots around Barley’s room that seemed reasonable. His book shelf, the books on his shelf, his bed, his trunk, his closet, his dresser, his hairy half-eaten sandwich—the list went on and on. To Ian, the very idea of his brother hiding something from him was like their mother hiding sweets from them when they were little. He and Barley would check every cabinet in their kitchen until they found the whole stash, only for them to eventually get caught later. But this time, the younger elf didn’t care about being caught. All he wanted to do was find the medallion and leave before the older Lightfoot could stop him.

So with the thought of Barley keeping information to himself on the younger Lightfoot’s mind, he decided to check inside his brother’s books first. After all, when it came to certain books, some of them could actually be fake in order to hold top secret items. So Ian quickly flipped through every one of Barley’s books to see if any of them were fake. But none of them were, and none of them carried the medallion. There also wasn’t a book in particular that had anything bookmarked—except for the one book Ian had marked with a page a few days ago. But he figured if there was that one book that Barley specially bookmarked, he would’ve hidden that away from his brother, too.

Since all the books checked out, Ian decided to search somewhere else. He was going to go for Barley’s trunk—believing that his older brother had hid the medallion all the way at the bottom. But then he figured Barley would never do something like that. He’d want to keep an object as rare and magical as the medallion safe from anything that could crush or destroy it. Ian knew that even though the older elf was hiding it, it was Barley. He definitely had to have his own fair share of wonder for this magical object like his younger brother did. He was just too stubborn to go to anyone else for help in figuring out its mystery. So Ian continued looking around, trying to decide quickly where else Barley could’ve hidden the S.S. Medallion with now even less time than before.

“Think, Ian, think,” he said to himself. “Where would Barley hide something that he wouldn’t want anyone else to steal?”

He’d begun to pace around. One half of him was becoming more anxious by the minute because he wondered if he was only wasting precious time overthinking this hidden location, while still also fretting over the possibility that he didn’t know his brother at all. Meanwhile, the other half of him was just speculating where this medallion could possibly be. It had to be someplace safe, but where?

Ian continued to pace worriedly, having all this in mind, until he felt something shine brightly from the corner of his eye. He glanced down, but all he saw was Barley’s giant rug that covered most of the basement’s wooden floor. Still, the younger elf squinted his eyes, and leaned forward. When he caught sight of the shine again, he realized it was actually coming from underneath the rug! Somehow it looked familiar, which then made his eyes widen in excitement.

“Could it be?” he asked in a whisper.

The younger Lightfoot crouched down, and kept his concentration on the spot where he found the shine, which was now becoming more of a glow. Something under that rug gleamed brighter the closer Ian’s eyes got to it. There just had to be something under there!

He pulled back the rug corner to see. But to his surprise, there was nothing. Just the wooden floor. But the glow remained. Then he realized—it was coming from under the floorboard!

He used a hand to feel the board itself. It was loose. Very loose. So—with all of his might—Ian carefully lifted the board off the floor, and put it to the side. Soon the shine he’d seen from above glowed completely—and there was what was shining before him.

The S.S. Medallion!

Ian smiled wide and let out a laugh. “I found—” he began to shout, but then he covered his mouth with his hands.

He realized that he didn’t want the rest of the house to hear him—especially not after blasting that horribly loud music yesterday afternoon.

So instead, he said what he wanted to excitedly scream in his thoughts: I found it! Finally!

The younger elf wanted nothing more than to taunt in his brother’s face now. Barley didn’t think he could do it, but he did! His older brother was wrong. Ian had just proved him wrong.

After spending a moment celebrating the rediscovery of the medallion, the younger Lightfoot gazed down at it once more. It was—at last—in his arm’s reach again. Leaning in towards the underground, he went to grab the talisman by the pendant piece. But just as his hand was right above it, he stopped himself.

It was true. He had found the new hiding place, and could just take the medallion right now! But deep down, the younger elf was beginning to feel a little guilty. Letting out a sad sigh, he withdrew his arm and sat back up.

“What am I doing?” Ian quietly asked himself as he now held his hand to his chest. “I mean...stealing from my own brother?”

In his thoughts, the younger Lightfoot echoed Mr. Vance’s words from yesterday, what kind of brother does that make me?

Then he said out loud, “I’m not a thief...am I?”

Before he could debate any further, Ian took a glance at his watch. It was almost time for him to head out the door and go to school—where Mr. Vance was waiting to examine the talisman after classes. Only he had the immediate answers Ian was looking for about the S.S. Medallion. So there was really only one thing the younger elf could do.

“I’m sorry, Barley,” Ian said, frowning, “but I have to do this.”

Leaning in and reaching his hand under the floor once more, the younger Lightfoot snatched the medallion’s pendant. Hoisting it out, he cracked a smile at its sight and touch.

But then his smile faded as he held it up and considered something important—what if this is a counterfeit?

There was only one way to find out for sure.

Now holding its strings, Ian put the medallion around his neck, and sure enough, there was that unusual chill and temporary eye glow again. This was the S.S. Medallion.

So now that Ian had it in his possession again, he put the floorboard back where it belonged, then placed the corner of the bedroom rug over it. Next, he got up on his feet and went over to the bottom of the stairs. Taking off the medallion, he put it safely inside his backpack. Then his bag over his shoulder, he charged up the basement stairs.

Making it to the top, Ian couldn’t help but glance back at where the medallion was once hidden. Despite his small guilt about it, the younger elf frowned once more with determination, then he went to peek out from Barley’s door. He noticed that his mother was still exercising in the living room as if she hadn’t stopped yet. He also didn’t see any sign of his older brother either coming for the door or standing right next to it. So the younger Lightfoot snuck through the doorway without making a sound, then still not seeing Barley anywhere, he let out a silent sigh of relief.

Now out in the hall again, Ian took another glimpse at his watch. If he left the house now, he’d be right on time for school. The teenage elf quietly tiptoed over to the front door, and realized on his way over there that he could hear the shower going off upstairs. It could only mean that Barley was still in there. Ian let out another assured sigh, then putting a hand on the front door handle, he looked over at his mother—who was now lifting small weights.

“Mom, I’m leaving for school!” he called over to her.

“All right, have a good day, sweetie!” Laurel called back.

“You too,” the younger elf said as he then opened the door, went through, and shut it behind him.

Now outside in the free, open air and on his way to school like any other day, Ian suddenly felt comfort in knowing that he’d passed the challenge. After all the trouble he went through to get it back, the S.S. Medallion was finally safe in his backpack and ready to be inspected. But more importantly, the young wizard was now ready for answers.

◊ ◊ ◊

As soon as Ian was out of the house, Laurel’s smartphone rang. When her elf ears picked up the ringtone, she knew exactly who was calling her. So she broke away from her workout, and answered.

“Hey, honey,” she said, “how’s your morning going?”

On the other line, Colt was driving his police cruiser, patrolling another neighborhood in town.

“I could be doing better to be honest with you,” he admitted.

“How come?” his sweetheart asked. She’d begun to pace around in the living room.

“My team and I have been searching the streets high and low for the past few days looking for this missing criminal, and we haven’t spotted him yet—which is weird because he was all over the place before!”

“What did he do?” Laurel asked. Admittedly, she was a little curious about this. After all, ever since her sons had brought magic back into their world, who knows what they might come up against.

“He stole a one-of-a-kind necklace from the town’s jewel museum,” the centaur explained. “It doesn’t have a name. So, for now, we’re calling it ‘the neck jewel.’” After that, he neighed at the sound of his own joke.

Laurel giggled a little at the necklace’s title herself. Men could be so simple, even her beau. But then she wondered something.

“Is this why you haven’t called me back since Saturday?”

“Yeah...I’m sorry, hon,” Colt said sadly. “But I’ve been thinking of you and the boys through and through the case.”

“That’s really sweet, Colt, but I wouldn’t want us to distract you,” Laurel said with comfort. “If this criminal is on the loose, and if he’s dangerous in any way, then I’d like you to keep looking.”

“Okay, just thought I’d check in on you ’cause I have no idea how long this is going to take...”

“Of course,” Laurel said with a smile. “Are you still coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, you bet I am!” Colt assured as he veered his cruiser into an intersection. “I have the night off, so, I’ll be right over.”

“Great, so, we’ll see you at five, then?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Okay, see you tonight.”

“See you then,” Colt said with a grin, then he let out another horsey laugh.

“Bye,” Laurel said sweetly. She then blew her man a kiss before hanging up just as Barley came down the stairs wearing a bathrobe and a head full of wet hair. He had a relaxed look on his face.

“Ahhhhh...you were right, Mom,” he said. “A shower does feel nice on the hair once in a while.”

Laurel made a smirk at her older son. “That’s great because I just spoke with Colt, and he says he’s coming over tonight.”

“Cool,” Barley said, then he looked to his left and right, scanning the first floor of the house. “So, uh, where’s Ian?”

“He just left for school,” Laurel told him, then she walked over to the kitchen, muttering, “ugh, I’m thirsty. I need some water.”

Meanwhile, Barley made his way back to his room. He was looking forward to just chilling out for the day. But as soon as he entered, he noticed that all of his books about magic and the days of yore were off the shelves again, and scattered out and about like they were two days ago.

At the sight of this, the older Lightfoot’s heart began to pound. He ran down the stairs, and over to where he kept the talisman away from his brother. What he noticed next was that the floorboard he’d hid it under was placed the wrong way.

This only increased his heart rate.

The older elf then moved the corner of his rug that was covering the floorboard out of the way, and subsequently removed the floorboard itself. Once he did, he was shocked to find that the talisman was gone!

Seeing all of this with a stunned expression, Barley could only muster one word from his mouth.

“Ian.”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 11 ◊

A Sense of Understanding

As soon as Ian stepped through the doors of New Mushroomton High, his long day of learning had begun, and to him, it felt like it was never going to end. He had his first half of classes—all of which he couldn’t get himself to focus on—and was now having lunch in the cafeteria with his friends—Sadalia, Kagar, Parthenope, Althea, and Gurge.

The six of them sat at a rectangular table with Kagar, Ian, and Sadalia on one end, and Althea, Parthenope, and Gurge on the other end. As they ate, the friends each took turns sharing what they had going on for the rest of their day. Gurge had an essay due for English, Parthenope had a trig exam, and Althea and Sadalia both had their free period as their last class of the day. During that time, Sadalia was going to help Althea look for one of the cyclops’s old props underneath the auditorium stage.

“Man, I wish I had a free period,” said an envious Gurge, stabbing his fork into one of his dragon fire meatballs.

“For once, I agree with him,” Parthenope said, pointing her thumb at the troll who was sitting right next to her. “I would love extra time to get my homework done.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet,” Sadalia said. “And what about you, Ian?” It was now his turn to share his plans with the group.

Even though Ian had made a promise to Mr. Vance not to let anyone else know about the S.S. Medallion, he thought that now was as good a time as any to cautiously reveal to his friends that he was trying to investigate a rare, magical talisman. He had essentially been doing so for the past couple days, and it was clear to him that it was the biggest thing he had on his mind right now. Plus, if Barley was no longer willing to help him in terms of support, he figured maybe his friends would. So he cleared his throat and answered Sadalia’s question.

“I’m gonna go see Mr. Vance after school, and ask him about this talisman I’ve been researching,” he answered with a smile. He then glanced at his bag that hung on the back of his chair, where the S.S. Medallion was still safely hidden inside.

“But Ian, you promised to come with me to Master Froyo after school today, remember?” Kagar reminded him, then becoming excited, the satyr turned to face the rest of his and Ian’s friends. “We’re going to check out all the new flavors. I hear the Hydra Colossal is a major brain freezer!”

Everyone else in the group sounded as fascinated about frozen yogurt as they were about Sadalia and Althea’s free period as they all murmured oohs and aahs. But Ian, on the other hand, had totally spaced out on meeting Kagar later this afternoon. As enticing and fun as the satyr made froyo sound, the elf wizard knew he just couldn’t do it today.

“Listen, I’m sorry, Kagar, but I think I’m gonna have to take a rain check,” Ian lamented. “This meeting I’m having with Mr. Vance is really important.”

“You sure have been going to see him a lot lately,” Gurge remarked.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Sadalia asked the elf wizard, now remembering that he had done the same thing yesterday.

This made Ian feel pretty irritated. Why did it seem like everyone was against him going to Mr. Vance for assistance? The teacher was an expert in magic! Which—at the moment—was really hard to find. Ian felt like he could use some friends who knew and understood magic as much as he did. While his friends enjoyed the magic he could do, he also believed that they could take a greater interest in it if they wanted to—maybe even find out if they had the magic gift themselves. Regardless, Ian remained calm.

“He just...seems like he knows what he’s talking about, that’s all,” he said, twirling the straw in his drink. Then the elf wizard sipped from it in an attempt to calm himself even more.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Parthenope said, trying to keep an open mind.

But Althea had other opinions. “Don’t you guys find it strange that Ms. Traven has been gone for three days straight without any explanation?” she asked bluntly. “I mean, last week, she’s teaching our class all fine and stuff—and then this week, she just disappears! And without saying anything? It doesn’t add up.”

The friend group took a moment to consider this conundrum. It was definitely peculiar.

“Well, gee...now that you mention it, Althea...” Parthenope said slowly. “I guess I was thinking...we are going to fall super behind if she doesn’t come back soon.”

“Yeah, good point,” Sadalia agreed. “Like, where is she? Should we ask Mr. Vance?”

“Are you guys crazy?” Ian objected. “Ever since Mr. Vance got here, history class has been great! I’ve always wanted to learn more about magic in school ever since I brought it back into our world. He’s giving us a really great opportunity here!”

Ever since he brought it back? Ian’s friends wondered. To them, that seemed off. They all glanced at each other thinking, Barley helped bring magic back, too, right? But they were also beginning to think that the elf wizard was idolizing their substitute teacher or something. Perhaps a little too much.

But unbeknownst to all of them, Mr. Vance happened to be in the cafeteria, too. He was casually coming around a corner when he noticed Ian with his friends. So he stopped, and decided to listen in on their conversation from afar.

“But Ian, you know more about magic than anyone,” Gurge insisted. “You don’t need Vance to reteach you everything.”

“Yeah, and besides, you’ve also got Barley,” Kagar pointed out.

“Oh, you mean my bossy brother?” Ian said with an annoyed tone, crossing his arms and looking away from his friends.

“Bossy?” Parthenope questioned.

“Ian, is everything okay?” Sadalia asked with concern.

“No, it’s not!” Ian admitted, then he pounded his hands on the table and pointed at each of his friends in accusation. “You all can’t handle the fact that Mr. Vance wants to help me!”

“All we’re saying, Ian, is that we just think it’s kinda weird that you keep going to him all the time...for...everything, you know?” Althea confessed. To that, the rest of the friend group nodded in agreement.

But Ian angrily stood his ground. “So what? Maybe if any of you were more interested in learning about magic, he’d give you a chance!” At that moment, he got up from the table, picked up his lunch tray, and said bitterly, “I thought you guys were supposed to be my friends.” Afterwards, he walked away with a sour expression.

Sadalia, Kagar, Gurge, Althea, and Parthenope watched the elf wizard leave, then looked at each other with unease. They were all certain that they’d really hurt their friend’s feelings.

◊ ◊ ◊

A morose Ian walked over to the tray drop-off. He couldn’t believe his friends would say things like that. He couldn’t believe they were all taking Barley’s side. But unfortunately, it seemed all too true. And all it did was make the younger Lightfoot feel more alone in this quest than ever. But in the midst of his misery, Mr. Vance approached from behind him with a look of sympathy.

“Ian,” the bespectacled elf said as he walked right up to his student.

The teenage elf let out a tiny, startled gasp and gazed up as soon as he heard his name. But when he looked to his left, he recognized that it was only his teacher who’d called out to him.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Vance,” Ian said with a dull voice.

“I couldn’t help but notice you had a little spat with your friends over there,” the teacher remarked, pointing his head in the direction of the teenage elf’s table.

Sighing, Ian walked ahead of Mr. Vance. He dropped off his lunch tray, then crossing his arms again, he went over and leaned against the adjacent wall as his teacher stood next to him.

“They just don’t understand how important this research is to me,” he explained, staring at the horizon of the cafeteria.

“Wait...you told them about—”

“No, not exactly.” It was then that the teenage elf realized that perhaps, vaguely or not, he shouldn’t have spilled anything about the medallion to his friends. “I...I-I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t worry about it, Ian,” Mr. Vance assured, and Ian eyed his teacher with a look of surprise.

“You-you’re not mad?”

“Honestly, if there’s anyone who’s mad right now, it’s you.”

The younger Lightfoot sighed heavily once more and looked away. “They think I know enough about magic. But that’s not true, Mr. Vance. I want to know more!” As he then focused his gaze on the floor, he sighed a third time, and said with sorrow, “no one understands me...”

Mr. Vance looked on to see where Ian’s friends were. They were too preoccupied to notice that their friend was with him now. Then he turned to his forlorn student again.

“Come on, let’s take a walk,” the teacher advised, putting a hand on the teenage elf’s back.

Ian silently nodded in agreement, and together, the student and teacher pair left the cafeteria.

◊ ◊ ◊

“You didn’t happen to mention to your friends the SSM by name, did you?” Mr. Vance asked Ian as the two of them walked side by side in the halls.

“Ah, nice acronym,” Ian noted.

“Thank you.”

“But no, I-I didn’t. I haven’t told them anything specific about it,” the younger Lightfoot disclosed, then he sighed. “But it’s probably for the best since they aren’t interested in it, anyway. Besides, this is between you and me now.”

Mr. Vance smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

But the teacher could see from the look on Ian’s face that the teenage elf was still feeling hurt. Entering a solitary part of the hallway, Mr. Vance stopped in his tracks. Then turning to Ian, the bespectacled elf put a tender hand on his student’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t listen to them,” he suggested with optimism. “They’re just trying to look out for you. Isn’t that what friends are for?”

Ian thought about it for a moment before he said to his teacher, “yeah, maybe...but it sure doesn’t feel like it. And it’s not just them! Barley, too! A-as you know. They don’t think I should be doing this, but the fact is...I really don’t understand why.”

“Oh, I know just how you feel, Ian,” Mr. Vance said, patting the teenage elf’s shoulder, then he crept a smile on his face. “In fact, you kinda remind me of myself when I was your age.”

Ian blinked. “Really?”

“Oh, yes. Believe me, I was told no, I couldn’t do this, or I shouldn’t do that several times. But did I listen to those jerks? Heck, no!”

Feeling the need to pace, Mr. Vance let go of Ian’s shoulder.

“Instead, I persisted,” he continued. “I kept going until I found the answers I was looking for...it honestly wouldn’t be a bad idea if you did the same.”

“Yeah...y-you know what? You’re right, Mr. Vance. I-I feel like you’re the only one who truly understands this quest! And I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Of course, kid. Anything for you,” Mr. Vance said, stopping in front of his student.

Hearing him say that, Ian instantly realized something he wanted to ask his teacher. “Well, actually, Mr. Vance...um...there is something about the SSM that I was hoping you could answer for me right now,” he said, without giving it a second thought. “I-I know we agreed to wait until after school for me to show it to you, but I thought—”

“You have it this time?” Mr. Vance asked, interrupting the teenage elf.

Ian had forgotten for a split second that he had the actual medallion in person today and that his teacher was unaware of it. “Oh, y-yeah, I do,” he confirmed. “I was able to sneak into Barley’s room this morning and grab it. It-it sure took a lot of tries to get it...but I got it!”

“That’s fantastic!” Mr. Vance said, ecstatic. “I’m proud of you, Ian.”

“Uh...thanks?” the younger Lightfoot said, dumbfounded. He was a little surprised that a teacher was proud of him for stealing something, but he rolled with it. “So anyway, the medallion—”

“Has the SSM lost its touch already?” Mr. Vance asked, cutting in on his student again.

That’s when the teenage elf remembered that he and his teacher weren’t in the classroom, and that he had to continue speaking in code.

“Oh, yeah...right,” Ian said, catching himself. He cleared his throat, then continued with his question. “So, uh...the SSM...wh-when I put it around my neck, I...I-I felt something...strange.”

In an attempt to calm himself, the younger Lightfoot put his hand over where his wizard staff chain necklace was hidden underneath his dark purple flannel shirt. Locating the attached splinter with his fingers, he clutched it.

“I...it was like...I got a chill or something, but it felt...different...I...” The teenage elf hesitated. He wasn’t sure where to go from there.

However, Mr. Vance was intrigued. “Go on...” he encouraged gently.

Ian glanced down slightly at the tiny staff that nestled in the palm of his hand. He knew he had the right words in him somewhere, he just had to let them out. “I...I-I can’t really explain it. It-it was like...whatever power this talisman has, it...activated.”

“Reeeally?”

“Yeah, really. But I still don’t know what it does, or-or what it’s activating exactly.” The younger Lightfoot then nervously looked back up at his teacher. “I was hoping if...you knew?”

Mr. Vance thought about this deeply, like he was in his own head. Then he said, “well, you are right about one thing, Ian. When it comes to talismans like the SSM—if you wear it, it grants you its power...that’s why you felt something from it...it’s the SSM giving you its power.”

Ian was amazed. All he could let out was an awe-stricken, “wow...”

“As for what it’s activating exactly, we shall find out soon enough...” Mr. Vance assured with a smirk.

At that moment, the bell rang—which meant lunch was over, and everyone had to report to their next class.

“See you after school?” Mr. Vance asked the teenage elf.

“Absolutely,” Ian said, his spirits high and mighty once again. “I can’t wait!”

“Well, in that case, see you this afternoon, Ian.”

The teacher then walked off, leaving his student behind where they had just talked.

“You too, Mr. Vance! And thank you!” Ian said excitedly in return.

The younger Lightfoot couldn’t help but just stand there for a moment, clasping his tiny wizard staff in both his hands. He was no longer irritated. In fact, he was smiling wide once again. But then he realized—

“Chantar’s Talon! I left my bag in the cafeteria!”

So Ian quickly made his way back there to get it. Along the way, he processed more of his thoughts. The teenage elf still couldn’t help but feel impatient.

He was so close. He could feel it.

Now more than anything, the younger Lightfoot just wanted the school day to end and the real research to begin.

◊ ◊ ◊

Barley had been out driving in Guinevere the Second all day. All over town. In practically every street. Away from the house.

He felt like he needed it. The teenage elf had a lot on his mind that he wanted to clear up, and driving was the one thing that got him in the zone whenever that happened. He had both his hands gripped tightly on the wheel and his eyes were completely locked on the road. He didn’t normally drive this way, but he was feeling pretty restless at the moment.

It had been hours since the older Lightfoot had gotten out of the shower, and found that the talisman was no longer in his clever hiding place. Just as he’d easily deduced that his younger brother had taken it, the very first thing Barley wanted to do was go ahead and stop him.

He’d gotten dressed, grabbed his keys, turned them in the ignition at just the right spot, then after putting the gearshift in O for “Onward!”, he drove Guinevere in the direction of the high school.

But on the way there, Barley and his beloved van were stopped at a red light, and that’s when his deep thinking about everything had truly begun.

True to his Quest Master role, the older elf imagined the scenario of barging into Ian’s school, finding him, demanding the talisman back, possibly even embarrassing his brother in the process, and ultimately making Ian even more angry at him. Having all this in mind, and somehow knowing that was what was going to happen, Barley couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of himself.

Glancing up at the red light that was still holding him up, the older Lightfoot recalled that it was at a red light where Ian had first shown him the talisman—or the S.S. Medallion as it was supposedly called. It was also at that time that the older elf realized that what he had taught Ian on their quest for the Phoenix Gem together was still planted in the young wizard’s brain. He was so proud of Ian then that he only wished that he could be proud of Ian now. What his younger brother was intending to do with that talisman—that was, showing it to this teacher who the older elf believed didn’t seem all that bright—was an idea that Barley didn’t feel too confident about. But thinking those words to himself made him frown.

He’d already thought time and time again about their fight the other day—mostly about how much he’d hurt his brother—but now Barley was remembering the part where Ian had accused him of not taking risks, and how that wasn’t the Barley he knew. The older Lightfoot was now wondering, what if Ian was right? Knowing full well what the answer probably was, Barley sighed and shook his head.

Just then, he saw the red light turn green up ahead, and was about to drive through an intersection. From there, New Mushroomton High was straight ahead. But still ruminating over his brother, the talisman, this teacher, himself, everything, the older elf suddenly felt the need to really regroup. So as he came up to the end of the road, he put on a turn signal—which was now properly working so that he didn’t have to stick a hand out—then turned in a direction away from the school.

From that point on, he just drove. Drove and thought.

But he’d been doing it for a while now and his foot was getting tired of being on the gas. So when the older Lightfoot found himself on a street in the city with shops on either side, he decided to pull over to a spot and stop. His eye caught sight of a deli and an open parking spot right next to it. Feeling delighted with the idea of lunch, he zoomed over there and parked.

Getting out of Guinevere, he stretched, then searched inside his van for spare coins to put in the parking meter. The older elf figured he wouldn’t be long as he was just going to take out. But listening to his gut, he knew he needed a sandwich. A big sandwich. So he went inside the deli to get just that.

Minutes later, he came back out with a Mountain Doom soda in one hand and a footlong sub with griffin, mayo, lettuce, tomato, and cheese among other things all enclosed with two pieces of bread in the other hand. Then he reached for his keys and unlocked Guinevere the Second. But extending a hand to open her door, Barley’s elf ears picked up on the sound of collective toothy snickering coming from a few feet away. He looked to his left, but his eyes only caught sight of some shadows disappearing into the corner of a crafts store that was just a few doors down from the deli.

The older Lightfoot frowned. That was weird, he thought. But then he shrugged and got inside Guinevere the Second.

After taking one bite of his large sandwich, Barley decided he would go and eat it elsewhere. He started the engine of his mighty steed, but when he did, a strange sputtering noise came out of her. Strange to the point of not normal. The older elf had never felt this happen to her before. Not since he’d fixed her up. He knew Guinevere had her weak spots, but this was a whole other level. For some reason, the van just wouldn’t start!

“Come on, Gwinny Two! Come on, come on...” Barley murmured to her.

But it was no use. Guinevere just wouldn’t budge!

So Barley got out of the van and opened her hood. But everything under it looked fine to him. So then he decided to check underneath, and that’s when he immediately saw the problem.

Guinevere’s exhaust system—which was in tip-top shape minutes ago—was now almost completely busted.

“Oh, for the love of Gargamon!” the older Lightfoot cussed.

But as he laid his hands on the pipes, something small and paper-like slipped out from within the chassis.

“What the—” Barley muttered.

He reached for the slip, then got up, and looked at it. It was a note.

The older elf read the tiny piece of paper aloud, “‘you asked for it!’”

He turned the note over. There was no name, or anything else telling for that matter. It just said: “you asked for it!”

Barley didn’t know what this meant, but what he did know was that someone had been out to get him for a prank, and they won. However, since he couldn’t get Guinevere to go anywhere, there was only one thing he could do about it.

Getting out his smartphone, the older Lightfoot dialed a number, then held the phone to his ear.

As soon as he got someone on the other line to pick up, Barley pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “yes, hi, I need a tow truck...”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 12 ◊

Uncovering the Truth

The school day was soon at its end as Sadalia and Althea arrived at the auditorium for their free period. No one at New Mushroomton High ever went down below the theater’s stage—aside from, well, the theater kids, who called this particular area “the trap room.” So it was Sadalia’s first time going down there, and Althea couldn’t wait to show her around.

“Thanks for helping me look for my prop, Sal,” the cyclops said as she opened the big auditorium doors.

“Hey, no problem,” Sadalia said in a chill manner as they both entered the enormous room.

But as the two friends silently walked down one of the lengthy aisles together, the elf soon had a looming thought on her mind.

“You know, I feel like we hurt Ian’s feelings at lunch earlier,” she finally said to her best friend. “Do you think we were being a little too inconsiderate?”

“Well, he did say we were ‘supposed to be his friends,’” Althea recalled, “and he didn’t exactly come back after he got up and left like that.”

“But we are his friends! He knows that, doesn’t he?”

“I mean...before we came along, he didn’t really have a lot of friends. Like, sure, he had Kagar, but that was it. So...maybe he’s just not used to being around groups of people with different opinions.”

Sadalia considered this possibility. “Maybe...” she said, “and magic is really important to him...I just feel bad, you know? I wouldn’t want this to convince him to strike out on his own or anything.”

“I get you.”

“But what I don’t understand is why he called his brother ‘bossy.’ That doesn’t sound like Barley to me...”

“Yeah, I don’t know...it’s almost as strange as this whole mancrushing thing he has over Mr. Vance...”

As Althea glanced over at Sadalia, the elf gave her a look—which confused the cyclops.

“What?”

“I wonder if maybe you were a little too on the nose with that question,” Sadalia said candidly.

“What question?”

“Well, gee, at lunch, you were all like, ‘ooh, where’s Ms. Traven? She’s disappeared! Mr. Vance is behind this!’”

The elf didn’t care whether she was being brutally honest with her best friend or not. Somehow, she had a feeling that somewhere in their lunch conversation, Ian’s frustrated outburst came about because of Althea.

“Okay, I didn’t say it exactly like that!” the cyclops said in defense.

“I know, but that’s not the point. I feel like what Ian wants to know from Mr. Vance about this talisman he mentioned is really important to him, and we should respect that. And I don’t know...Vance’s lectures aren’t that bad. He really seems to have the know-how for magic, and what he’s saying could be useful.”

Althea gave this some thought. As out of nowhere as Mr. Vance seemed to her, he did know many things about magic and the old days.

“Yeah, I guess so...” she relented. Then as the two girls found themselves in front of a single black door, the cyclops beamed and said, “oh, here we are!”

They had arrived at the entrance to the stage’s underground. Althea opened it and the girls began climbing down a set of stairs.

“I think for now, we should just give Ian some space,” Sadalia suggested. “Let him find out what he wants to know from Mr. Vance—then tomorrow when we see him, we can apologize.”

“Sound goods to me,” Althea said, then she rubbed the back of her neck in guilt. “I guess I, uh...sorta do owe him an apology.” She ended her statement with a tense chuckle as she and Sadalia got further down the stairs. The atmosphere kept getting darker the deeper they went below.

Once the girls reached the bottom of the stairs, they passed through another doorway—but couldn’t see anything in front of them. The underground of the stage was entirely pitch black! Thankfully, Althea reached for the room’s one light—and in an instant, everything became visible. The light was pretty dim, but it was better than nothing. The windowless trap room was smaller than Sadalia thought it would be, but it was still expansive enough to store a ton of costumes and props. The walls and the floor were both completely painted black, most likely so that the underground wouldn’t draw too much attention. After all, this was also a room used to place props dropped from above the stage where all the action happened.

As the elf continued to gaze at the glory that was the trap room, she let out an amazed, “wow...”

Althea took note of this and made a smirk.

“I know. Pretty cool, right?” she said. After the girls put their bags down by the doorway, the cyclops rubbed her hands together and said, “okay, I’ll search over on stage left, you take stage right.”

Sadalia spun in a slow circle rather confused, until Althea noticed.

“Stage right is over there,” she pointed, trying her best to keep her tiny giggling unnoticed by her best friend.

“Oh, ‘right,’ thanks,” the elf said, making air quotes with her fingers. She let out an embarrassed laugh as she didn’t know stage terms as well as Althea did. But Sadalia chose to let it slide and just have fun in the moment. Then the girls went their separate ways to search for Althea’s prop.

“You remember what it looks like, right?” the cyclops asked her friend in curiosity as they both picked their spots to explore.

“Yep!” the elf confirmed.

“Cool.”

Sadalia decided to explore the clothes racks, while Althea looked in a giant basket full of accessories.

“Ya know, it’s kinda creepy down here...” Sadalia commented as she moved some clothes hangers aside, making a loud screeching noise in the process as she dragged them along on the metal rack.

“Yeah...it is at first, but I’m used to it by now,” Althea said from the other side of the room.

Sadalia felt more at ease being down below the stage with her friend’s theater’s expertise. Finding this prop was going to be a cinch!

But soon after just a minute of searching, a muffled sound—along with some rattling—had suddenly come out of nowhere, which both the elf and the cyclops had picked up on from where they were in the room.

“Wh-what was that?” Sadalia asked.

Both girls looked up from where they were searching, then they heard the noises again. It was definitely in their presence and reoccurring more than once. So they decided to follow it.

It took listening a couple more times for the cyclops to properly determine where the sounds were coming from in the black, costume and prop-filled room. She herself had never heard anything like it before.

“I think it’s coming from the closet,” Althea discerned with her senses.

The girls slowly walked towards a gray, double-doored storage closet—with the sounds of muffling and rattling getting louder and louder with each step they took. It got at its loudest when the two friends found themselves directly in front of the closet.

Feeling brave, Sadalia stepped forward to open the doors—but they were locked.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, I have a key,” Althea said as she got a set of keys out from her pocket. “I thought we wouldn’t need these until we’d searched everywhere else but, oh well.”

She stuck the one they needed through the lock, and then put the keys back in her pocket.

With the doors unlocked, the closet continued making noises—now banging and muffling louder than ever before. So once again, Sadalia went to open the doors with a brave face, while Althea took a step backward. As soon as Sadalia opened them all the way, the girls found themselves recoiling and screaming. So did what was inside, or rather who.

“Ms. Traven?!” Sadalia said in surprise.

The girls had found their history teacher—and she was bound up and gagged!

The elf reporter was taken aback by this unexpected surprise, and anticipated the dramatic Althea to react the same. But instead, her best friend had become distracted by something else in the closet.

“Hey, here it is!” the cyclops said in excitement.

She had found her prop and picked it up—it was a glittery turquoise baseball bat covered in star and heart stickers.

◊ ◊ ◊

With their original task complete, Sadalia and Althea helped get their restrained teacher out from the closet. It was easier said than done to get the middle-aged elf to move outside the enclosed space. Not only were her arms and legs rope-bound to the rest of her body, but her hands and feet were tied, too! Nevertheless, the girls did their best to walk Ms. Traven over to a nearby folding chair.

“Easy does it, Ms. Traven...” Sadalia assured as she and Althea dragged their teacher along.

Once they set her down nice and easy, the two friends began to untie her. The first thing they decided to loosen from Ms. Traven was the bandana that was gagged on her mouth. As they did so, their teacher exhaled.

“Thanks, girls...” she said, gasping for air. “I’m...so...thirsty...”

While Sadalia finished removing the bandana from around her teacher’s neck, Althea decided to run over and grab something from her bag.

“Here’s my water bottle, I haven’t sipped from it yet,” the cyclops offered as she ran back over to Sadalia and the teacher.

“Thank you...” Ms. Traven said groggily. As soon as she was completely untied by her students, she drank the water immediately.

“Soooooo...not to bring up the magma beast in the room, Ms. Traven, but...what were you doing tied up in a closet underneath the stage?” Sadalia finally asked.

The history teacher hadn’t stopped drinking the water yet, and didn’t look like she was going to stop anytime soon. But as soon as she did, she proceeded to answer her student’s question.

“I’ve been trapped in that closet for three days! No food...no water...hardly any air!” she said in an exasperated tone. “I swear...if I get my hands on that creep who trapped me in there, I’m gonna report him to the police!”

“What creep? Why did he trap you in there?” Althea slowly inquired while banging the barrel of her prop bat into the palm of her hand.

Meanwhile, Sadalia’s journalism instincts went off. She got out her notepad and pencil, and began writing down this information—in case it came in handy for a future story, or for the story she was currently writing if the events of the security system and this had anything to do with each other.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Ms. Traven confessed.

She drank more water, then began to tell her side of the story.

“All I know is I came down here early Monday morning to get a historical prop for one of my lessons,” she explained, “and while I did, this man showed up through the doorway. I didn’t hear him come in, but there he was, I suppose. He greeted me casually, even though he didn’t look like a teacher or a student to me. In fact, I didn’t recognize him at all—especially not with that oversized hooded robe he was wearing...”

Ms. Traven resumed drinking more water—which was now halfway finished—then carried on with her perspective.

“Anyway, he came up to me and took out a photo of your friend, Ian, and he asked me if he was one of my students. For some reason—based on the way he was dressed and knowing that Ian is a wizard—I thought maybe this person was an older friend of his or something. So I said, ‘yes.’ But this man...he was no friend. As soon as I gave him my answer, he got out the ropes and bandana you see here from underneath his robe, and decided to just...tie me up! It was a real struggle, but he was just way too strong for me to escape!”

“Once I was restrained, that’s when he stuffed me in this closet,” the history teacher continued as she pointed to the storage closet. “At least I could still see him through those tiny window slits. With them, I was able to see his next move—and it was a very strange one. He certainly had a huge family underneath that ginormous robe of his—I’ll give you that—because next he took out a long, dark staff. Then he passed it across himself, and said something...very foreign-like...I think it was...‘ill Lucy Facades’...or something like that...and then there was this bright camera-like flash and some crackles here and there. What I witnessed next was this abductor of mine, except...he looked like someone else entirely! Then I heard him say, ‘now to take back what is rightfully mine,’ and he laughed and disappeared! No one has come down here since...”

Once she finished her long account of what happened to her, Ms. Traven went back to drinking her student’s water.

“So...let me get this straight...” Althea began to ask, “you’re saying some weirdo man in a robe held you prisoner in the theater troupe’s own trap room?” Suddenly, she felt an odd wave go across her face. “Whoa, ‘trap room,’ now that’s ironic...”

Simultaneously, Sadalia was finishing writing everything her teacher said in her notes. But then she got a bad feeling in her stomach.

“Hang on...did you say this guy had a photo of Ian?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ms. Traven affirmed, “and it wasn’t a very good photo, either...very blurry, actually. It looked like it was taken rather quickly, and Ian wasn’t looking directly at the camera.”

Sadalia and Althea looked at each other with worry, then back at their teacher.

“Do you suppose this guy was spying on Ian?” the journalist questioned.

“Could’ve been, but why?” Althea wondered, all while playing with her prop bat.

“I have no idea,” said Ms. Traven in sorrow.

The three were silent for a moment, trying to determine who this abductor was and what he could’ve possibly wanted with Ian. Then after looking through what she’d scribbled down in her notes, Sadalia realized something.

“Wait a minute...those foreign words that the robed man said...I think I know what they mean!”

“What do they mean?” asked Ms. Traven. She and Althea were all ears.

“When I interviewed Ian and Barley for my article about their quest for the Phoenix Gem, they mentioned that one of the spells they used was a Disguise Spell—and you have to recite, ‘Illusio Facadis’ in order for it to work! I’m certainly certain that that’s what this guy said! He has to be a wizard!”

“Well, that would definitely explain the staff...” the history teacher suspected, stroking her chin.

“Ms. Traven, it sounds like you don’t know who trapped you, but do you by any chance know who this guy transformed into? Maybe Althea and I have seen him around.”

Furrowing her brows, Ms. Traven thought about it deeply, and soon it all came back to her. “Honestly, now that I think about it...while I don’t know who this man was—much less what he was, either—when he recited those words, it looked as though he’d masked himself as one of our former teaching assistants...an elf named Neldor Vance.”

At that very moment, both Sadalia and Althea gasped in shock.

“NO. WAY,” the cyclops let out.

“What? What is it?” Ms. Traven asked, alarmed.

“Mr. Vance! He’s been teaching our class in your place for the last three days!” Sadalia explained. “He’s the one who trapped you in here?!”

“So-so wait, so some wizard has been using magic to impersonate a teacher this whole time?” Althea asked.

“Sure seems like it...” Sadalia said, frowning and pecking her pencil at her cheek. “And I bet he’s doing so to get to Ian! But why? And who is he? What does he want?”

The intrepid elf reporter knew there was something more to this guy and his trap, she could feel it.

“Hold on! Back up! This man pretending to be Mr. Vance has been teaching you guys?” Ms. Traven asked in a heartbeat. She felt pretty repulsed by this thought.

“Yeah, he has—mostly about things related to magic,” Althea justified. “I didn’t really know why at first...but now it all makes sense! He has magic! I knew there was something suspicious about him!”

At that moment, Ms. Traven shot the two girls a stern look. “Sadalia, Althea, where is Ian? Does he know about any of this?”

“I mean, we just found out about this,” Althea acknowledged, pointing back and forth to herself and her friend. “So, I don’t think he’d know—”

Suddenly, Sadalia gasped again, and dropped her pencil in fear.

“Sal, what’s wrong?” Althea asked her.

The elf reporter had become pale. She’d once again gotten herself super caught up in the story that she was now just becoming fully aware of something terrible. She turned to look at her friend with more worry than before.

“Althea, don’t you remember?! Ian told us that he was going to see Mr. Vance—or-or whoever this is—after school today!”

The cyclops gasped. “Oh, no...that’s right! He did say he was gonna do that! Again...” she recalled, then she began snapping her fingers. “To-to-uh...ask him about a talisman he was researching!”

“What do you mean by ‘again,’ Althea?” Ms. Traven asked with her own increased worry. “Has Ian been hanging out with this...this fraud, a lot?”

“Yeah, he...he has,” Althea answered.

“He’s been staying after class and after school with him everyday since he got here,” Sadalia added, then she began to pace. “It definitely has to do with this talisman research...”

“Do you two have any idea what talisman Ian’s been researching?” Ms. Traven asked, getting more anxious by the minute—as were the two girls.

“I don’t know, Ms. Traven,” Althea admitted. “Do you, Sal?”

“No clue,” Sadalia confirmed as she briefly stopped pacing. Then she turned to their teacher. “Why do you ask?”

Ms. Traven took another big sip of water from the bottle, which was now almost empty. Then she said, “girls, I have reason to believe that this so-called wizard impostor is here for information, and that he’s using your friend, Ian, to get it.”

“Yeah...y-you know...I think you’re right, Ms. Traven,” Althea nodded. “You did say this guy was going to take back what was ‘rightfully his’”—then she gasped and snapped her fingers once more as she reached another conclusion—“which is probably Ian’s research!”

It was no use for Sadalia to process her own thoughts in her head anymore because from what she, Althea, and their teacher were figuring out, this was beginning to get very serious.

So the elf reporter spoke aloud the rest of what she was thinking as she resumed her pacing. “So-so what you’re saying, Ms. Traven, is that...this ‘Mr. Vance’ impostor wants this research, or what this research is about...?”

“And he’s been trying to gain Ian’s trust in order to get it from him?!” Althea asked, finishing her friend’s theory.

“My thoughts exactly,” Ms. Traven confirmed.

Suddenly, the bell rang—alarming the two friends and their teacher. The last period of the school day was over, which could only mean one thing...

“The last bell,” Sadalia said out loud with her heart in her throat. Then she looked at the equally scared Althea and Ms. Traven. “Ian...”

“What do we do?!” Althea screamed, starting to dramatically panic as usual.

Ms. Traven finally stood up from her chair, just as she drank every last bit of water from the cyclops’s bottle. Quenched, she handed it back to Althea, then grew a serious look on her face.

“Girls, we have to get to my classroom and warn Ian!” she declared. “He could be in danger!”

The two girls glanced at each other, then back at their teacher.

“Well, what are we waiting for? We have to find him!” Sadalia cried.

After she and Althea grabbed their bags from the doorway, the two friends and their teacher raced up the stairs—hoping to get to Ian before it was too late.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 13 ◊

True Colors Revealed

Ian—tall and confident with a barely contained, excited smile on his face—walked over to his history classroom, thrilled to finally be getting answers about the S.S. Medallion. But being honest with himself, he was also feeling a little nervous because this was a HUGE deal.

Despite the hallway traffic, the teenage elf was soon pleased to find himself standing in front of the very doors that held the key to all of the medallion’s secrets. And after getting out of his last period class, it only took him less than a minute to get there. Next to taking the medallion back from Barley this morning, this was the only other thing thus far that the young wizard felt had gone right for him today. Well, that, and the comfort in knowing that the chill and eye glow he’d been feeling from wearing the medallion meant that it was, indeed, a magical relic.

But Ian also couldn’t help but contemplate how unusual it was that after a whole day of school, his brother hadn’t even bothered to contact him—much less show up out of nowhere. The teenage elf somehow figured that Barley would’ve noticed by now that the medallion was taken from his bedroom. And that he would have a gut feeling his younger brother had something to do with it. Strangely enough, the younger Lightfoot almost felt tempted to text Barley himself and confess that he’d made off with the medallion, and that there was nothing his brother could do to stop him.

Yet even as Ian took out his phone and continued to stand outside the classroom—knowing that Mr. Vance was behind there waiting for him at this very moment—he readily decided that making a confession to his older brother now wasn’t worth it. He felt that doing so would be another easy excuse for Barley to get under his sensitive blue skin. The young wizard would come home—having been right all along—with the knowledge that he and his brother wanted to know, and have the benefit of rubbing it in Barley’s face. At least that’s what he hoped.

Feeling self-assured about this notion, Ian put his phone back in his pocket, then faced the doors again. He still felt it in his heart that he was a little nervous, so he took a long, deep breath in and let it out—then he finally knocked on the right door like he did yesterday. Soon afterward, he opened it and poked his head through, his wandering eyes instantly landing on Mr. Vance.

“May I come in?” Ian asked him.

The teacher was once again sitting at Ms. Traven’s desk. His hands were clasped together, and he had a giant smirk on his face. It was quite demonic, but Ian didn’t pick up on it from the other side of the room. However, he did notice that like yesterday, all the lights in the classroom were turned off.

Sensing his prize within reach, Mr. Vance said, “of course, Ian! Please do come in...”

He too could barely contain his excitement for what was about to happen. But as Ian entered the room and began to walk towards him, the teacher abruptly stopped his student short.

“Oh, wait! Um, Ian...as long as you’re at that door, would you mind shutting it for me?”

The ask was quite sudden on Ian’s part as he felt his feet almost slip on the floor.

“Oh, uh...yeah, sure...okay,” he said awkwardly as he walked himself back over to the classroom doors.

While he figured Mr. Vance wanted him to keep them closed so that no one could interrupt their medallion studies—much less know about the medallion to begin with—Ian couldn’t help but feel a little weirded out by this request. His teacher had asked him to do the same thing yesterday for some reason. But the teenage elf decided to shrug it off, thinking it was probably for the same reason as right now.

Once Ian made sure both doors were closed, he finally made his way over to the teacher’s desk again. As soon as he was directly on the other side of Mr. Vance, he removed his backpack from his shoulders, zipped it open, and searched through its contents. When his fingers found their way to the S.S. Medallion, the teenage elf pulled it out of his bag and held it out for his teacher to see.

At the sight of it, Mr. Vance’s eyes widened, and his smile got even bigger—SO big that it was gaping.

“Here it is,” Ian said with pride as he placed his bag down on the ground. “In person.”

He held the medallion from the strings, which caused the pendant to rotate side to side.

“Yes...at last, I see...you have brought it here, finally,” the teacher let out of his mouth in awe, then he extended a hand. “May I?”

This was it. The moment of truth. For both Ian and Mr. Vance. It was time.

But now standing in the classroom with the medallion ready in hand to show to his teacher, the younger Lightfoot was suddenly feeling something different.

At first, Ian was more than willing to hand over the S.S. Medallion for Mr. Vance to examine—especially after the teacher promised him that he would get all the answers he wanted about it if he did. But for a second, the teenage elf wasn’t so sure. He thought back on what it took for him to get this far: stealing from his brother, lying to his mother, abandoning his friends—he wondered if any of that was even right for the sake of this moment.

Feeling the need for some last-minute advice, Ian’s eyes strayed onto the S.S. Medallion’s pendant. He held it up, and looked at it from all sides—taking in the shiny glow it had emulated from the sunlight coming in through the open window. Even though the younger Lightfoot was closer than he ever was to finding out the truth about this medallion, he was now just remembering how special and intricate it looked all by itself.

Noticing the hesitation on Ian’s face, and the way the teenage elf looked at the medallion in a stalling manner, Mr. Vance began to grow impatient.

“Well?” he asked.

Ian finally gazed up from the medallion, and realized that he was keeping his teacher waiting again. The bespectacled elf probably didn’t have all day to stay after school with him. But something was stopping the younger Lightfoot from immediately giving the medallion to Mr. Vance. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I...uh...” Ian started to say, but then he hesitated.

“What is it, Ian? You can tell me,” Mr. Vance assured him.

“I-I don’t know what it is, Mr. Vance,” the teenage elf continued, then he looked fixedly at the medallion in his hand once more. “I...the medallion, it-it’s just so...beautiful and...delicate. I...wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to it.”

Mr. Vance nodded, “I understand.”

But as Ian kept on rotating the talisman in his hand, its angle eventually caught the streaming sunlight coming in through the window. It created a glare on the pendant that reflected onto Mr. Vance’s face. He winced begrudgingly. The bespectacled elf tried using a hand in an attempt to shield himself from the glare—but to no avail. So he pivoted his chair towards the window behind him.

“Stupid sunlight!” the teacher grumbled under his breath, then he proceeded to close the window shade—which caused the whole room to become much darker than it was before.

This only weirded Ian out even further as he raised an eyebrow.

Then Mr. Vance swiveled back to face the teenage elf, and found himself returning to his student’s dilemma.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes! I completely understand, Ian,” he reassured as he clasped his hands together a second time. “But don’t worry, I’ll be very careful with it.”

As he stated his word, the teacher reached his hand out once more, expecting the medallion to fall right into it. Still, Ian was unsure as he bit down on his lip and held the medallion close to his chest.

But keeping composure, Mr. Vance said with a grin, “you can trust me.”

No matter what kind of time limit they had, no matter what his friends or Barley thought—Ian wanted to know everything. He just had to hand the talisman over to Mr. Vance. He was the only way.

The younger Lightfoot glanced down at the medallion one more time. Then gripping it tightly into both of his hands, he closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and exhaled. Opening his eyes, he felt ready.

With a frown and a steady hand, Ian gave the S.S. Medallion over to Mr. Vance for inspection, dropping it into the palm of the teacher’s hand.

Holding the talisman at eye level, the bespectacled elf’s grin widened.

◊ ◊ ◊

Sadalia, Althea, and Ms. Traven exited New Mushroomton High’s auditorium with great speed, but they soon found themselves surrounded by students and teachers out in the halls.

“Well, great! I should’ve known that the last bell would mean this, too!” Sadalia complained.

Since the last bell—true to its name—was the final bell of the school day, everyone was scuffling through, trying to get to club meetings or out of the building. This, of course, heavily crowded the halls, and was going to make getting to the history classroom a challenge.

“Looks like we’re going to have to try and get around everyone,” Ms. Traven said. “We’ve got no time to lose!”

Sadalia and Althea looked at the horizon in front of them, then at their own backs. They realized that running as fast as they could towards Ian with heavy bags on their shoulders would be difficult. So the two friends took them off, placing them down next to the doors of the auditorium, then they readied themselves to run.

“Let’s do this!” Althea said with determination, slamming her bat into the palm of her hand as if she were going to war.

Then the two teens and their teacher charged into the crowd and tried getting through it as smoothly and quickly as they could. Some excuse me’s and pardon me’s were in order since some people were moving more annoyingly slower than others. But Althea, Sadalia, and Ms. Traven wouldn’t let any obstacle stop them from reaching Ian and warning him about Mr. Vance’s true nature, no matter how long of a way they had to go...

◊ ◊ ◊

Mr. Vance did the same thing Ian had done with the medallion just seconds ago. He looked at its pendant from all sides to make sure that it was legit. From the way he said, “hmm...” and “uh-huh...,” Ian wasn’t sure whether his teacher was still as confused as he was about it, or just happy to be holding this rare, magical talisman again after having lost it before.

After about a minute, Mr. Vance looked right at Ian—while still holding the medallion up in his right hand.

“This is the real deal,” he said with a smile, which made Ian’s eyes widen in excitement. Then the teacher retained his focus on the medallion as he adjusted his hands and fingers to hold it by its strings—which again, made it rotate. “The S.S. Medallion...” he added with a hint of muse.

“So...now that it’s up close for you to see, is there anything else you can tell me about it?” Ian asked, placing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I mean...you said we’d know more about it if you looked at it and inspected it yourself.”

The medallion’s beauty had put the teacher in a wonderful trance. He had almost forgotten that he was still in the presence of this teenage elf.

But Mr. Vance looked straight at the boy again, then with a frown and a growing grin, he shook his head, and went, “tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk...oh, Ian...” Afterwards, the teacher slowly stood up from his chair. “There’s nothing you really need to know about this...”

Mr. Vance then walked around the desk and towards the teenage elf, who had now released his hands from his pockets and was furrowing his brows with suspicion.

“All this medallion really does is give its user the ability to shapeshift...into any creature desirable.” Mr. Vance revealed. “Into any creature that I desire! And now that it’s finally mine once again...I will be UNSTOPPABLE!”

Without any hesitation whatsoever, the bespectacled elf put the medallion on around his neck, and smiled evilly as his eyes temporarily became white, then back again.

At that very moment, it became clear to Ian that Mr. Vance was not going to help him get exactly what he wanted. Rather, it seemed the teenage elf had just helped Mr. Vance, and had given him exactly what he wanted! Feeling a sudden churning in his gut, Ian slowly started to back away in intimidation. But just as he did, Mr. Vance only continued to stride towards him...

◊ ◊ ◊

Unfortunately for Sadalia, Althea, and Ms. Traven, the auditorium and the history classrooms were practically on opposite ends of the school. Still, all three of them ran as fast as they could to where Ian and the impostor Mr. Vance were talking. But to make matters worse, Ms. Traven was still feeling a little weak from being trapped in a closet for three days straight that she had to give herself time to stop and catch her breath a couple times.

Meanwhile, Sadalia and Althea were just the opposite. They were so worried about their wizard friend that when they turned corners, they kept accidentally bumping into other students and teachers! As of late, they ran into two students carrying huge stacks of books, which they clumsily dropped to the floor when the girls came swerving out of seemingly nowhere. But the elf and the cyclops had no time to help their classmates—Ian was in trouble!

“Sorry! Emergency!” Sadalia called back to them as she and Althea kept running down the halls.

“Now that I have my bedazzled bat back, I’ll be able to hit this guy with all I got if he tries to hurt Ian!” Althea said excitedly as she swung her theatrical weapon around.

“If we’re not already too late!” Sadalia cried, but then she stopped in her tracks. “Wait! Where’s Ms. Traven?”

The two friends looked around, and realized that she wasn’t with them anymore. They only backtracked a few feet before the middle-aged elf was right behind them, gasping for breath. She stopped, then leaned down and put her hands on her thighs—as if she were about to pass out.

“Ms. Traven! We got you!” Althea cried as she and Sadalia grabbed their teacher’s arms so she wouldn’t fall.

“It’s okay, girls,” Ms. Traven said, putting a hand up in front of her. “You don’t have to wait for me!”

“But you’re the only one who’s seen what this guy looks like without his ‘Mr. Vance’ disguise!” Sadalia insisted.

“Trust me, if you find him with Ian, it’s most definitely him. What’s more important is that you save him from whoever this man is!”

“Plus, I’ve got a bat!” Althea remarked as she placed the barrel of her prop into the palm of her hand once more.

“Yes, Althea, you’ve mentioned that like three times already!” said the frustrated elf reporter.

“In all fairness, Sadalia, in a situation like this, a bat is most definitely a good weapon to have,” Ms. Traven commented—to which Althea gave her BFF a smirk that pretty much said, I told you so. “If there are any other teachers around, get their help. Now please go! Hurry!”

With that, the teenage elf and cyclops continued running down the halls towards the history classrooms on their own.

As they did, their teacher shouted from behind them, “I’ll call the police!”

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian could see that Mr. Vance was most definitely a teacher who confiscated magical relics from students. But the younger Lightfoot was also starting to get the feeling that there was something dark about him.

“Y-yours? Uh-u-unstoppable?!” Ian uttered with a trembling voice as he continued to back away. “I...I don’t understand...”

“THIS MEDALLION! WAKE UP, KID!” the teacher suddenly shouted as he advanced on Ian.

He was so upfront and harsh with the teenage elf that intense spit came out of his mouth and landed on Ian’s face. It felt awful. Mr. Vance seemed almost too happy to have the S.S. Medallion in his hands again. SO happy in fact that he straight up put it around his neck—as if the chill and the eye glowing were nothing to him! But how he was acting—combined with the forced darkness and isolation he created in the classroom—was beginning to make Ian feel very uncomfortable. His mind, like his heavy breathing, raced with uncertainty.

Something’s not right... he thought. Why is he yelling at me?

But Mr. Vance was far from finished with his yelling.

“IT WAS ALWAYS MINE—as it should be...” he shouted some more. But as soon as he said that, something uncanny happened...

In a crackling flash, Mr. Vance’s ear had changed, and didn’t match the rest of his appearance! It was now longer, bumpier, and greener!

Ian noticed this change right away, and it only increased his discomfort. But his teacher had much more to say despite the exposure.

“Not locked in a museum to be left UNUSED, UNTOUCHED, and UNPOWERFUL AGAIN!” Mr. Vance added, clenching his teeth afterwards.

“Y-your ear!” Ian said aloud, frightened.

Then furrowing his brows again and darting his eyes around, the younger Lightfoot realized that there was something more to Mr. Vance’s ear trick. He recognized the sound effect it had made. It was...magic. But not just any magic—it was the magic of a Disguise Spell!

Ian had figured out Mr. Vance’s ploy—or at least he thought he did. The teenage elf was now up against the same wall as the classroom doors. This whole thing was starting to get personal. A little too personal in fact. Ian almost didn’t care about the S.S. Medallion’s mystery anymore. Here he was now, being confronted by this lunatic, who—under that masking illusion of his—appeared to be harboring a much bigger secret. Something about it told the younger Lightfoot he was gonna need his wizard staff real soon.

As he used his dominant hand to search for where his chain necklace was underneath his shirt, Ian asked courageously, “who-who are you?”

There was a beat. And in that beat, Mr. Vance smirked. Now feeling unusually content, he backed away from the teenage elf at last.

“Ah, FINALLY, I can take this STUPID disguise off!” he said—confirming Ian’s suspicions—then he pointed to his exposed ear. “I mean, would you look at that? I’ve practically started shedding already!” Next, he felt for the rectangular glasses that were on his face and removed them. “Oh, and I won’t be needing these anymore!”

Flinging them to his right like he would a discus, the spectacles broke against the classroom’s blackboard. Then in another crackling flash, they disappeared! As if they too were an illusion...

Ian glanced at where the glasses once were, then back at this impersonator. “The Disguise Spell,” he muttered with a frown. Disguising yourself is a lie, so you must tell the truth to get by, he thought afterwards, recalling the spell’s magic decree.

Whatever it was that this guy really wanted—or wanted from him—the younger Lightfoot knew he needed to muster his courage as he was now about to face what appeared to be...another wizard? This man just had to be if he could cast a whole new identity over himself! Either way, Ian felt armed and ready as he could be as his right hand ultimately found where his tiny wizard staff was hidden.

Just then, the impostor cleared his throat as the teenage elf anticipated another huge rant from him.

“Oh, I just love children! Absolutely LOVE children!” he began to say, but magic made his blue left hand disappear! It was now as horrid and scaly as his ear was, which made Ian cringe greatly.

The impostor—who didn’t seem to be an elf—was quick to notice the sixteen-year-old’s displeasure.

“What’s that? You don’t like my hand? Well, I just LOVE it!” he continued, clapping his fake hand with his real hand together. Then his right leg was instantly exposed! But “Mr. Vance” decided to keep going.

“Okay, fine...I don’t love it. But I do LOVE this spell! It’s my favorite!” he said while doing a spin. “I love it more than this S.S. Medallion you gave me!”

Next the magic transformed his left ear to match his right ear...

“But don’t look at me! I don’t know what it does!”

...and then it uncovered his entire right arm!

Ian had seen it all before. Except last time, he was within the illusion when he witnessed portions of the spell disappear. Now he was watching it vanish from the outside! And it was becoming more disturbing to him by the minute...

“Heck, I don’t even know what ‘S.S.’ stands for!” the impostor continued, keeping his charade going—with a lie first, then a newly revealed body part soon after. But it was a charade that he chose to end with a bang.

“For all I know...this medallion...isn’t. Even. MAGICAL!”

In a flash, the crackling magic of the Disguise Spell began to surround “Mr. Vance” as he evilly laughed, and the illusion vanished completely!

And just like that, this man was no longer Mr. Vance—but a wicked looking gremlin!

Ian shuddered at the sight of him. This gremlin was not as tall as Mr. Vance, nor as young as him, either—but not elderly. He was still plenty tall and intimidating in his own right. He had pointier ears and sharp teeth, with some of them sticking out. His yellowy-red eyes screamed shady, and his skin was sickly green and scaly from head to toe. Finally, he wore a long, oversized dark red robe that could seemingly carry just about anything—and it did, because the bony gremlin then took out a long, dark wooden wizard staff from under there and held it with the utmost confidence. He also put up the large hood that was hanging from the back of his robe to further cover his grim face. With his true self revealed, the gremlin grinned evilly at the teenage elf once more.

But gazing at this new appearance in full, a pale Ian let out a gasp as he suddenly felt an epiphany come to him.

“It-it’s you! Y-you’re the guy from that wanted poster, aren’t you? Who—”

“I am Gedeon the Grotesque!” the nefarious gremlin proclaimed. He had a raspy, but also fairly suave voice.

As the former unknown hooded figure let out a wicked chuckle and walked towards the teenage elf again, Ian felt his entire body tense up. He just knew he was in trouble now.

“I really must thank you, Ian,” Gedeon said while clutching the medallion in his hand, “you’ve been most helpful to me...”

But now frowning and clasping his necklace protectively, Ian wanted the real truth. “What do you want from me?” he asked bravely.

“Ah-ah-ah. No,” a haughty Gedeon said with a wag of his index finger, then he pointed it directly at Ian’s chest. “I no longer need you! You already did me a great service—by giving me back my precious S.S. Medallion.”

The rogue wizard backed away slightly and showed off said medallion with his hand.

“But...y-you were supposed to help ME! You...you TRICKED me!” Ian yelled angrily, pointing at the gremlin with his non-staff hand. But deep down, he was still frightened as he continued breathing heavily. Any trust the teenage elf had for this guy vanished with the disguise.

“Yeah, well, you know what they say—‘life isn’t fair,’” Gedeon gloated, then he began to circle around Ian while petting his wizard staff. “You have all these questions, and there are so few answers in this world—whether they be vague or confidential...” Then holding the medallion’s pendant at its tip, he said, “see what I mean?” After that, he snickered. “I couldn’t possibly have my medallion fall into the hands of some teenage elf...” he continued, then he waved his hand trying to find the right words, “it didn’t seem...eh, practical.”

Suddenly, it all made sense to Ian. Everything this guy did to get to where they were now.

The younger Lightfoot remembered how hard it was for him to do the Disguise Spell for the first time. He had gone back and forth from telling the truth to lying, which caused his and Barley’s disguise of their stepfather to get exposed part by part in front of the two cops who’d pulled them over. But this Gedeon—he didn’t lie at all! He had managed to single-handedly keep his disguise in check this whole time just to get what he wanted! It truly showed what a master wizard he was! And whenever he paused to seemingly think deeply and thoughtfully about something, he was trying to think of truthful-sounding sentences!

But then Ian really thought back in time...

I had it in my possession once...but unfortunately, I lost it...

We wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands now, would we?

No, it doesn’t actually belong to me...

...power, GREAT power...

You have it this time?

Hey, don’t listen to them...

He could just be trying to protect you...

Ian thought about that last statement very carefully, and his eyes widened as another epiphany flashed before him.

“Wait a minute...” he said aloud, “all those things you said about my brother...about him being bossy, controlling, and me and him not knowing each other?”

“Yes...?” Gedeon said with a sinister tone. He’d stopped his circling and looked directly at Ian, having grown another demonic grin on his face—a grin which the teenage elf fully noticed this time.

“You...you were trying to feed negative thoughts into my head, weren’t you?!” Ian cried, raising his voice. “And-and it made me SO angry, but I didn’t realize...” He paused and looked to the floor, he felt like an absolute fool. “Barley was trying to protect me”—then he frowned and gazed right at Gedeon—“from you.”

“It’s called manipulation, boy,” the gremlin said, then he walked closer to the teenage elf again. “I had to find some way to gain your trust after you denied me the chance to look at this medallion. And what better way to do that...than to get you to not trust the ones closest to you?”

He proceeded to place another index finger under Ian’s chin, but the teenage elf pushed it away.

“Yeah, well...Barley and my friends were right about you!” Ian shouted fearlessly, then he pointed at the gremlin with accusation. “You only made that slideshow to set me up!”

Gedeon grinned with pride. Slowly by surely, his pawn was figuring it out. But then Ian’s face read complete puzzlement.

“But wait...how did you know I had the medallion?” he asked. “What exactly do you want with it?”

“Ahh, so the teenage elf wants the real story now...” Gedeon said aside to himself, caressing his wizard staff. Then after taking a breath in and out, he spoke louder. “Sure, why not? I just love to gloat! And you came here for the truth, didn’t you?!”

Without missing a beat, the gremlin aimed his wizard staff at every one of the student desks in the classroom. Then using the staff like a pencil, he drew the shape of a heart in the air, tapped at its center, and recited, “Presto Avar!”

With his magic, Gedeon had successfully brought all of the desks to life! They each used their four legs and moved around by themselves! Then the rogue wizard gathered their attention.

“Desks, get that boy!” he ordered as he pointed the tip of his long staff directly at Ian. “I command you to form yourselves into a cage and trap him!”

The younger Lightfoot gasped as the desks began to turn their rage on him. They didn’t grow angry eyes or snarling mouths, but he could tell just from looking at them that they were growling at him like he was the bad guy. Of course, Ian knew firsthand what it was like to deal with faceless sentient figures. He was sure that if he could handle the bottom half of his father, he could certainly handle these objects brought to life—and he could do it without magic. He wanted to see what exactly they were going to do with him first before busting anything out.

“Okay...living desks...not so different from a pair of legs...I can handle this...” Ian muttered, psyching himself up as he backed away from the desks.

But to his fear, the longer they were alive, the more aggressive they became. In a matter of seconds, they began to charge at the teenage elf, following the gremlin’s orders to take him down.

As each of the desks surrounded Ian, he tried to evade them—but it was no use. There were too many of them and only one of him! He now only wished that he had gotten out his wizard staff sooner and used the Growth Spell on it. That way, he wouldn’t be completely on his own in this situation.

But there wasn’t much the younger Lightfoot could do to stop all of this from happening, because right now, everything around him was happening so fast! He didn’t know what to think or believe anymore. How could he? He’d been played for a fool by this thief in disguise! And now he was practically Gedeon’s puppet!

“Hey...what are you...? HEY!” Ian shouted at the desks as they closed in on him, leaving no trace of gaps for him to sneak through.

It seemed there was no escape from the encircling barrier the desks made around him, and he had a feeling that they were going to start climbing on top of him, too—and they did! At least—they did at first. The desks piled on top of Ian, then they climbed on top of each other and gave the teenage elf some extra room—but not a whole lot. They were all under Gedeon’s magic and control.

Ian struggled against the enclosure. He was trapped! To him, it felt almost exactly like being trapped under all of the Curse Dragon’s rubble six months ago—except he felt much more cramped in this cage now than he did then in all that wreckage.

The student desks had soon ceased their movement once they finished making a rounded wall around Ian with a ceiling on top. He was practically in a dome! But Gedeon did have the mercy to make a small window for the younger Lightfoot to witness the deceitful gremlin himself.

So Ian raced towards it and yelled, “LET ME OUT!”

But all Gedeon did was grin and snicker evilly at the fact that he’d successfully trapped this teenage elf with his advanced spell.

“Oh, I don’t want you going anywhere...” the rogue wizard said with a smirk. “It’s story time, my boy.”

Feeling perfectly satisfied with the situation, Gedeon began to tell his tale to the now-imprisoned Ian.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 14 ◊

Gedeon’s Story

I hail from a distant land of mischievous gremlin rogues where trickery is the greatest strength of all. Getting weak-minded fools to do as we please to obtain what we most greatly desire—whether that’s money, treasures, food, a good laugh, a better living situation, you name it...

A few of us—like me, for instance—had discovered over the years that we’d inherited the magic gift required to handle any kind of magic. Compared to the typical rogue, tricking others is much more fun for us thanks to our wizardry! And going through each spell in the book, I found personally that using the Disguise Spell for swindles was the most genius! It’s such a great spell—quite useful. But its main weakness? Lies.

If any of us told a lie, our disguises would get exposed bit by bit—and in certain cases, that meant our tricks on others would fail. Admittedly though, I was able to master the spell after some self-taught practice in speaking the truth. But you already know that, don’t you? Heh heh heh...

Yet, even now, it’s still such a tall order! So exhausting! I really wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up the act...

But then one day, I went for a walk outside my village, when I happened upon something giving off a shine in the ground. I did some digging and there it was—the S.S. Medallion. Unlike you, I knew exactly what it was and what its power held. Which reminds me...the “S.S.” stands for shapeshifting. So in other words, the Shape Shifting Medallion. Isn’t it obvious?

My village knew of it, too, and thought it was only a legend—but NO, I proved them wrong by finding it! And it was MINE! ALL MINE! So I had the advantage...

With this medallion, I was able to become whoever and whatever I wanted to be and steal, cheat, and pickpocket as much as I wanted without the pressure of telling the truth all the time! Which I gotta say made my schemes all the more crafty...

But because magic was thought of as useless and dangerous sorcery, my medallion was eventually taken away from me by snooty museum curators who happened to catch me during one of my out-of-town ploys and put it behind a glass! Oh, wait...didn’t I tell you this part already? I did, didn’t I? But anyway...now that the realm has decided, “hey, magic isn’t so bad,” I felt I should have back what rightfully belongs to me!

I searched and searched from one museum to the next all over the United Realms and eventually found where my precious medallion was being kept—here, in New Mushroomton. Gotta say, not the first place I would’ve expected it to end up—and especially not in a building where all the items on display were anything but magic. And yet, walking into that jewel museum and seeing it again after so many years...oh Zadar...I hadn’t felt more relieved in all my life! I just wanted to touch it, and feel its power flowing through my veins! But when I was denied ownership...well...that’s when I took matters into my own hands...

And so...I broke in—and by broke in, I mean, I broke the glass window, the glass case, everything—and took it! It didn’t take long for the alarms to sound and the cops to come after me. But those fools...they couldn’t get to me! Not with my skills and reinforcements...

So I finally had my medallion back. That was, of course, until I let it slip in a loud, bright, busy, honking parking lot!

And who should find it, but you?

I was going to attack you then, but then you and your meddlesome brother drove away far too fast for me to even get to you! I was furious. But I wasn’t giving up yet...

Luckily, according to the very quick instant photo I took of you holding my beloved prize, you seemed young enough to still be in school, and specifically old enough to be in high school—and the next day just so happened to be Monday. So...where better to hunt you down the very next morning than outside this very school?

I waited, and there you were—perfectly vulnerable! But alas, it seemed—even with my Invisibility Spell—I had made my presence far too obvious to you because then you went inside and disappeared again! I thought it would be impossible to find you in here with so many different wretched creatures. But like always, another idea came to me like Arcane Lightning!

Us gremlins are not only master tricksters, but we also have the immense talent to hack into any sort of tech and machinery. So all I had to do was search on the school’s computer—and there you were again! With a new perfect place to attack!

What I needed next was the perfect cover...some ruse to get you to admit to me that you had my medallion...

After all, I’m so horribly ugly as a gremlin that no one could’ve ever taken me seriously if all I did was scare the living life out of people wherever I went...

I...might’ve done that to one student since I got here...eh heh heh...

I figured you’d be no different. I needed to be approachable...somehow...

And then it hit me! You were in a school, and students love substitute teachers—so what was a better disguise than that?

Once I decided I would pose as “Mr. Vance,” I followed your history teacher, and let her off the hook with some rope. Then I knew I was guaranteed to have no one interfere with my plans...

◊ ◊ ◊

Processing every part of Gedeon’s tale, Ian felt absolutely threatened by this gremlin. Ever since the day he found the S.S. Medallion, he had been spied on, used, and now here he was being held prisoner by this Mr. Vance, who was not Mr. Vance at all!

He also remembered Monday morning. The younger Lightfoot recalled feeling like he was being watched while he was writing his to-do list on the front steps of the school. He thought it was only silly intuition getting to him, but no! He was, in fact, being watched—by this scoundrel!

“So...y-you saw me pick up the medallion?” Ian contemplated out loud as he found himself breathing heavily again. “A-and you pretended to be my teacher just to steal it back from me?!”

He kept getting angrier—but also frightened—about this situation by the minute. But then he realized something else.

“And that picture...th-that picture on the slideshow...the blue hand...that was me?”

“My, for someone who was desperate for information, you catch on fast,” Gedeon said with a wicked grin, then he began to pace around. “Though truth be told...I didn’t think my plan would work. But for your generation, hardly knowing anything about magic and what it can do”—he paused to chuckle evilly, then gazed right at the frowning teenage elf in the desk cage—“it really shouldn’t have surprised me that your eyes were full of wonder...’cause what could you possibly know about magic?”

Ian could very well see that this Gedeon was bad news—and with the S.S. Medallion in his hands, he would go back to causing an infinite amount of trouble! The younger Lightfoot just couldn’t let the rogue wizard get away with this, he had to do something.

With brave determination, Ian backed away from the window of his makeshift cell, and exhaled. Then he took out his necklace from underneath his purple flannel shirt, and unclipped his tiny wizard staff.

“You’re about to find out!” the teenage elf cried out to the gremlin. Finally, with his Heart’s Fire in tow, absolute concentration, and a clear voice, Ian shouted, “Magnora Gantuan!”

The cry of what sounded like the Growth Spell incantation from his captive baffled Gedeon, who muttered a quick and inaudible, “huh?”

But Ian wasn’t done just yet. Once his staff was in full size, he got into position—ready to strike down his desk-made prison. The young wizard knew he was going to have to summon all of his energy for this one-shot blow to work.

He took a breath in and out as he thought to himself, this is for you, Barley, then he shouted as loud and proud as he could, “VOLTAR THUNDASIR!”

At that moment, electricity sparked, and the magical explosion Ian created with his Arcane Lightning caused the desks that trapped him to burst and fly across the classroom!

Some of them went hurling towards Gedeon, but he dodged them. The gremlin wasn’t quite sure what was going on, why he was suddenly being thrusted backwards, or how his prisoner was able to free himself so easily.

But then, right before him—making his way through the dust clouds of the desk prison debris—was Ian. He too had his own wizard staff and a demeanor of fearless resolve.

Gedeon’s face read with complete disbelief over this turn of events that he didn’t realize he was about to be attacked by this teenage elf again.

“Aloft Elevar!” Ian called out as he aimed his staff at the gremlin.

In that instant, he levitated Gedeon up into the air!

“What? Wh-wh-wh-wh-whoa! WHOA! PUT ME DOWN!” the gremlin screamed in fury as he rose up from the floor.

While Ian felt superior in teaching this guy a lesson for deceiving him, he couldn’t handle the gremlin’s weight for long. So after a few more seconds of levitation, he released the spell, throwing Gedeon back down to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Oof!” the rogue wizard let out as he landed.

On the floor, Gedeon was mystified. He didn’t think his pawn would be this difficult to deal with—but as it turned out, this boy was stronger than he thought. Somehow, someway, he had the ability to do magic, too!

“You...you can do MAGIC?!” the gremlin cried in vexation as he stared on at Ian, all while trying to pick himself up off the ground from the impact. “But-but how?”

“Because I have the gift, too!” Ian said with a frown as he kept his staff pointed at Gedeon. “I can do anything that I desire...as much as you can...and right now, I’m gonna put out your fire!”

It was then that the teenage elf realized, he never did tell this impostor that he was a wizard, or that he could do magic—which was probably a good thing at the time. But now, Ian was willing to show it off for the sake of confronting this delinquent gremlin.

Gedeon felt terrorized at first. But then his face brightened as he remembered that he also had magic, and a powerful medallion!

“Fat chance, Ian,” he sneered with confidence, then he ably stood on his own two feet again. “You may have magic up your sleeve, but so do I. Loads of it! And loads of experience! You really want to tangle with me?”

Through gritted teeth, a resentful Ian said, “we had a deal!”

Gedeon was silent for a moment, then after clicking his tongue in thought, he finally said, “very well, then.” He took a brief glance at the wizard staff that was gripped in his hand, then stored it inside his robe. “Won’t be needing this now.”

Ian was confused. Gedeon was putting away his staff? Was he really surrendering this easily? But then the gremlin lifted up the pendant that hung around his neck.

“You wanna know what this S.S. Medallion can really do?” he challenged the younger wizard. “What its true purpose is?”

But Ian didn’t have time to answer before Gedeon next shouted something truly bizarre from the top of his lungs.

“MUTATIO VIVENTIUM!”

At that moment, a new kind of magic appeared that enveloped the gremlin completely. It was blinding. So blinding in fact that Ian let out a grunt, and had to cover his eyes, put his hands in front of his face, and look away. With each passing second, the light seemed to grow bigger, brighter, and carry with it a great amount of force. It felt so strong that anything in the room could get sucked right into it!

But then finally—after several seconds of enchantment—the light disappeared, and the teenage elf opened his eyes to see that Gedeon was now different species entirely!

He had transformed into a giant raven!

“Holy...Tooth of Zadar...” Ian said in awe as he backed further and further away from the creature.

His unexpected foe wasn’t kidding when he said that the medallion gave its users shapeshifting abilities. How could he be? He’d said so while he was still under the Disguise Spell! The younger Lightfoot was amazed, but also afraid as he looked up at the magnificent being the gremlin had become.

Simultaneously, raven Gedeon took to his new form immediately. He ruffled his feathers, felt for a beak, then laid a wing on the S.S. Medallion’s pendant. It was still around his neck, but miraculously, it had grown to be just his size!

Ian was perplexed about why that was—but right now, that was the least of his worries.

Gedeon peered down at the elf wizard, who was now much smaller than he was, and squawked, “you asked for it! Now, come and get me!”

Then with the help of his enormous wings, the raven began to fly.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 15 ◊

Power Play

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 16 ◊

Hard Truths

Ian was thrown down hard from the force of the minotaur’s punch. The rogue wizard had gotten him in the shoulder!

“Wow...some protection you had there!” Gedeon scoffed as he walked up to the beaten younger wizard. “But it seems it wasn’t enough to defend yourself...against ME!”

Ian grimaced in pain. His shoulder didn’t feel broken, but he did feel like it was pulled to an extreme. But that’s when he realized—his Armor Spell didn’t work! It was supposed to protect him enough so that the minotaur couldn’t get to him! But it turned out he wasn’t being protected at all! Had he been, then his left shoulder wouldn’t be throbbing right now. So in hindsight, the armor really was invisible—much to the elf wizard’s loss.

He slowly sat himself up, then tried to comfort his left shoulder by rubbing it with his opposite hand. Ian really wasn’t sure how much more of this duel he could take. But the young wizard just knew that he had to keep going. He couldn’t let Gedeon leave with that medallion! Yet he really didn’t want the minotaur to punch him again.

How could I let this happen? Ian thought with shame.

He wished he had never handed the S.S. Medallion over to this impostor, and he wished that he hadn’t been so eager and curious. All it was doing was leading him down a path of trouble. It convinced him to use a spell that he had always wanted to use, only to have it backfire on him! He really thought his Armor Spell would work—but why didn’t it? he wondered.

“Foolish boy...I have REAL power with this medallion, you see!” Gedeon boasted some more as he witnessed the teenage elf tend to his weakened shoulder. It was once a shoulder that the trickster had used to place his own hand on to encourage the boy to do what he wanted. But now that his pawn did do as he wanted and was free to be his grotesque self again, there was no need for that anymore.

As Ian continued to massage his shoulder, he gazed up and made a scowl at his foe. “You...can’t do this! You-YOU CHEAT!” he cried.

But all the rogue wizard could do was laugh scornfully at this retort. “‘Cheat’?” he questioned. “Oh, no, no, no, I didn’t cheat! You are just sadly mistaken, my boy...”

Just the same, Ian—even on his knees—stood firm.

“No...I’m not...” he said in a cracked voice. “You lied to me...y-y-you used me...but I...I won’t rest...until I stop you! No matter what kind of creature you are!”

A stoic Gedeon crossed his arms.

“Not giving up, eh?” he asked the younger wizard. “Well, then...looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.” Without giving Ian the chance to respond, the minotaur took a couple steps backward, clutched the S.S. Medallion in his hand, and shouted, “Ad normalis!”

With this new incantation, a different transformation bubble appeared. It wasn’t as bright or powerful as the ones before it, but it still did something to Gedeon. To Ian’s confusion, the magic had swiftly transformed the shapeshifter out of his minotaur form and back into his gremlin self!

As the light of his reverse metamorphosis disappeared, the rogue wizard came forward, shook his head, and went, “tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk,” again.

All Ian felt like he could do was hold out his wizard staff in defense against this freak. Despite Gedeon having decided for some reason to go back to his default form, he knew the gremlin was still very dangerous just the same.

“Don’t you remember, Ian? I had to tell the truth for my Disguise Spell to stay in one piece!” Gedeon said proudly as he put a hand over his heart, then he turned his back, and began to walk away from the elf wizard. “Had I used lies to manipulate you, you would’ve seen my cover sooner!” Next, Gedeon stopped his walk to think for a moment. Then as he slowly turned his head to the left side, he went on to say, “and what good would that have been—for the both of us?” The gremlin smirked as he faced a bewildered Ian. “I would’ve been exposed...and you wouldn’t have known any of the hard truths you so desperately wanted.”

“Hard truths?” the teenage elf inquired, then he gave Gedeon a very distrustful eye. “What hard truths? What are you talking about?!”

There was a pause as the gremlin grew a devious smile on his face.

“The truth is all powerful on its own, Ian,” he finally said as he began to pace around. “It tells us things we want to hear, but also things we don’t want to hear. That’s why I used it against you. To get you to come to me and only me.” Then after chuckling a tiny bit, he added, “and you were already so angry at your brother that all I had to do was exploit that feeling further...by asking a question here and a question there about Barely—to see if he had any potential weak spots.”

“His name is Barley!” Ian yelled at his foe in defiance. The mere mention of his brother’s name from this scoundrel—especially from the way the gremlin mispronounced it—was enough to get the younger wizard back on his feet again. “And you don’t know anything about him! Just leave him out of this!”

“Oh, but apparently I did know something about him...without even needing to know it!” Gedeon countered back with a grin as he walked over and looked Ian in the eye. “I asked you if he was controlling, you said ‘yes,’ and did my disguise fall apart? Hmm...let me think about that...”

The gremlin gazed up at the ceiling slightly, and put an index finger to his chin as he thought about his own question. Then he stared back at Ian again.

“I’d say that I was still in the perfect illusion that I started with! It’s the truth, Ian! Why, sure...you can keep telling yourself that I’m wrong and that your brother isn’t controlling. But why waste your time? The magic seemed to agree with me...but whatever! Point is—you did just as I wanted. You gave me my medallion back.”

All this countless gloating did was infuriate the younger Lightfoot immensely. He was getting absolutely tired of this fraud taking complete possession of the S.S. Medallion when it never even belonged to him! Ian’s teeth and both of his fists were clenched tightly. Gedeon had gotten way past his nerves—more than his older brother ever could.

“It isn’t YOURS! Look, I-I don’t know who you are or-or what you really, REALLY want from that medallion. But...you can’t have it! So please...just...” Ian paused to close his eyes, breathe in, and exhale. Then he opened them again and extended a hand out in front of him. “Just hand it over!”

“Oh...and you honestly think I’m just gonna give it to you?!” Gedeon asked menacingly as he forced the teenage elf’s hand back down, then he backed away as the younger wizard held his touched hand protectively. “You are a fool, Ian. Just face it—you can’t even trick me like I tricked you. It’s like you’re not even trying!”

Then the gremlin resumed his pacing, paying no mind to the now growing disheartened look on his pawn’s face.

“I mean, please! If you can bust out Arcane Lightning with such ease, why can’t you cast any of the other advanced spells, too, huh? If a wizard can master the hardest spell in the book, they can certainly master the others! So...why can’t you?!”

All of a sudden, it hit Ian—why his Armor Spell had failed!

Channeling his older brother’s own knowledge, he now remembered the spell’s magic decree from the Quests of Yore guidebook. It clearly stated that for a wizard to be fully protected by the Armor Spell, the words of others had to be rejected—meaning he, the wizard, was supposed to reject Gedeon’s words of discouragement!

But because he didn’t, he had faced a consequence that was just as nasty as any traitorous backstab—a shoulder-jab to be precise! He just wished he’d known that before arrogantly casting the spell. But it wasn’t like he’d done any magic training with Barley for the past couple days. No thanks to the tension the gremlin had instigated on them.

Ian grew angry. Gedeon had deceived him again—by manipulating him into failing the spell! He had taken the shapeshifter’s words to heart, and had taken them to heart this whole time—whether his foe was in disguise or not! But now that he really thought about it—how couldn’t he?

The teenage elf really hated to admit this to himself, but it seemed that Gedeon was right—about everything. From Barley being a controlling person to the younger Lightfoot just being an inept fool in magic—Gedeon was just...right. They were things that Ian didn’t want to hear. But how could he possibly argue with that? It was the truth! Magic told the truth! And the truth was no lie.

With all these frustrations consuming him, Ian found himself getting down on his knees again. All he could do was lower his head, put his hand on it, and groan heavily. He needed to think and figure this all out.

Seeing this before him, Gedeon snickered wickedly again. To his pleasure, he was breaking this boy’s spirit. But he knew there was more he could do to break it even further! As a creature that loved causing relentless torture, he didn’t want to stop now. So he readied himself with the S.S. Medallion again.

“Mutatio Viventium!” he declared, and the gremlin had morphed himself back into a minotaur—the same minotaur as before.

The teenage elf glanced up from his agony and noticed this as the bright light of the transformation emitted itself and disappeared. Then as the minotaur trudged back over to his pawn and lifted his giant clenched fist again, Ian suddenly understood that Gedeon was going to pound him again while he was distracted in distress! Without even trying, he had fallen for another one of the rogue wizard’s cruel tricks—just like the gremlin had said!

But luckily in his quick thinking, the younger wizard had another, slightly easier spell in mind that he knew could protect himself from Gedeon without having to take anything personally or move a muscle—at least temporarily.

So he swiftly picked up his staff, then held it out in front of him, and proclaimed, “Bastion Fortigar!”

In that instant, a transparent, spherical shield surrounded Ian and separated him from the minotaur and his punches. If invisible armor couldn’t defend himself from this guy and his belittling words, then there was a chance that a strong shield could—so long as the elf wizard didn’t blink.

Unlike the Armor Spell, Ian remembered the Shield Spell’s magic decree right away. He recalled that as long as he kept an unblinking stare going, his barrier wouldn’t give out, and it would become strong and hard for Gedeon to break! The teenage elf figured this spell would be able to buy him some time so that he could think of some other way to use what he had to fend off the rogue wizard.

The minotaur proceeded to punch at the younger wizard’s Shield Spell so that he could get through to his rival. He attacked the barrier like he would a punching bag—with one fist first, then the next in a repeated cycle.

Ian could feel tears of sweat rolling down his face and his heart beating faster as he concentrated to keep his spell going. He once again found himself grunting in his struggle, and tried his very hardest not to blink. But the minotaur’s punches on the cyan barrier were creating vibrations that were making it very tempting to do so. The teenage elf knew he couldn’t keep this barrier up for much longer. He also knew that he still had to make a move to get the S.S. Medallion back once and for all. But unfortunately, coming up with an idea while also protecting himself from a rampaging minotaur wasn’t working! Right now, this was the closest he’d gotten to snatching the medallion from Gedeon’s neck. But how to do it, that needed determination—and without the gremlin expecting it...

On the verge of blinking, Ian decided to slowly get up on his feet again and move himself and the barrier away from the aggressive minotaur—just enough so that Gedeon would stop punching at it consistently. After just a few inches of careful movement with sustained concentration, the younger wizard forced himself to blink, and his barrier instantly faded!

But at that moment, an idea suddenly popped into his head. It was something that Ian really wished he had thought of earlier, but was more than happy to think of it now! He was just about to initiate it until—

“Mutatio Viventium!”

The gremlin had decided to transform into yet another creature! The elf wizard could’ve sworn the first word of the main incantation had to do with mutating, and the second word was the name, Vivian. But it was still a tricky spell to decipher through and through.

Since his enemy was turning into something else that hopefully wasn’t a bigger, more threatening minotaur, Ian steadily let down his guard. He really wasn’t sure why Gedeon had chosen to mutate again because he expected the rogue wizard to try and knock him down again without a barrier. But Ian supposed that the shapeshifter simply wanted to make a point—which he’d very much proven with his fog, his sneak attack, and his truth-telling mechanism.

Like the wind, the powerful energy of the transformation engulfed the magical fog that Gedeon had conjured out of the classroom—which brought the teenage elf to conclude that the medallion’s power was strong enough to suck up any elements of weather.

After the bright light of the S.S. Medallion vanished in the dark classroom once more, Gedeon revealed his next transformation to Ian—and it was the worst one of all!

“Uck! A unicorn?!” the younger Lightfoot cried in disgust.

He was not a huge fan of unicorns—especially ones that took pleasure in eating from garbage cans. Gedeon as a unicorn was no exception. His rendition was just as ugly, dirty, and repulsive as real unicorns!

“Ah, a real weakness...” the gremlin-turned-minotaur-turned-unicorn noted with a grin. He didn’t think he’d find something his pawn really despised this effortlessly.

Ian could only roll his eyes at the shapeshifter. “I can’t deal with this...” he said with indifference.

But as Ian began to lift his staff again—intent on casting a spell—the unicorn suddenly aimed his horn right at the teenage elf’s throat! In response, the younger wizard let out a small gasp, and tried to stand as straight as he possibly could to keep the horn from touching him.

“Take a step forward, and you won’t take another step,” Gedeon warned.

Ian forcibly and vigorously nodded, then took a huge gulp. Afterwards, his heavy breathing returned. Cornered at the wall with hardly any space between it and the horn, the younger Lightfoot was beginning to think that his plan wouldn’t work after all—not under this torture! The rogue wizard was back to talking right in his face—with intense spit and all, and worse—he was practically being threatened by a blade!

“NOW...AS I WAS SAYING...” Gedeon taunted callously, “with this medallion, I shall see to it that I am the wizard that everyone bows down to! The master for all to look up to and admire! The one who has all the answers! Unlike you...you’re just an innocent little teenager, trying to make his way into the world...with what? MAGIC?! ACTING FOR THE GREATER GOOD?! How cute!” The unicorn took the time to laugh maniacally, then he forced his sharp horn closer towards Ian’s throat. It was on the brink of touching the side of his blue skin and causing an incision! “But it’s sad, really...you’ve got the gift, kid. Though actually...I had a feeling you did...”

Ian’s heart stopped. “Y-y-you did?”

“The moment you told me you had tried the medallion and felt something! Because only those with the magic gift can harness its power and feel that chill and eye glow! It’s in your blood! YOU. ARE. A. WIZARD, IAN!”

Then without warning, the conniving unicorn used his horn to jab a small scratch into the side of the teenage elf’s neck! All Ian could do was close his eyes tightly and shriek at the oncoming affliction. He winced in pain as Gedeon kept the sharp horn on him. Then he slowly opened his eyes in fear to see that his enemy was grinning more wickedly than ever! The rogue wizard was actually enjoying this! He was in complete dominance over his pawn now.

“Yeah, that’s right...I KNEW! But you just don’t have what’s compared to my skill! Heck, you didn’t even know how to use the medallion while you still had it! Perhaps if that were the case, then you and I...we would be even. But now that I, yes, I have this medallion again, I shall pursue my good ol’ tricks and my mischief, and become more PROSPEROUS and POWERFUL THAN EVER!”

After making his intentions clear, Gedeon abruptly released his horn from Ian’s neck and took a few hoofsteps backward. He then took notice of the elf wizard’s blood that was on the very tip of his horn, and smirked. To him, it was a very nice touch to his unicorn form.

As for Ian, he felt himself and his wizard staff abruptly drop down to the floor as he continued to heavily exhale in and out. Then he shakily took a hand and stroked two of his fingers where Gedeon had grazed his neck on the right side. He let a tiny gasp in horror when he saw that they each touched a speck of blood. Ian frowned and clenched his teeth as he lifted his head to look straight at Gedeon. Afterwards, he reached for his staff, then slowly picked himself up off the ground—one foot at a time—and stood tall against the unicorn.

With his left hand clenched, too, and his right hand tightly holding his staff, Ian finally said to the rogue wizard, “no...I...I won’t let you!” Then as quick as a Velocity Spell, he aimed his staff straight at the S.S. Medallion and shouted, “CONJURUS!”

At that moment, a magical aura appeared around the S.S. Medallion’s pendant and it began to draw itself to the elf wizard like a magnet! This brought on a struggle to Gedeon, who was now getting choked by the medallion’s string around his equine neck!

“HEY!” was all the unicorn could say before getting totally strangled.

On the other hand, Ian was relieved to know that his master plan was finally put in motion. What better way to get a powerful medallion back than to use his very favorite spell? Once more, it was a spell that didn’t require him to tune out any negativity. It felt super genius on his part! But for some reason, the S.S. Medallion was not getting released from Gedeon’s neck right away like he had expected it to do. Still with all the strength that Ian had, he pulled for the medallion to come to him with the Summon Spell—much to the unicorn’s pain.

“STOP-THIS-AT-ONCE!” Gedeon shrieked as he suffocated against the stubborn medallion string.

But Ian paid no mind to the struggling rogue wizard. The unicorn possessed something that didn’t belong to him, and the younger Lightfoot was determined to make things right.

He had hoped that the medallion would simply lift itself over Gedeon’s head, but that didn’t seem to work. He also tried walking sideways while dragging Gedeon alongside with him as another attempt to elevate it off, but that didn’t really work, either.

Then suddenly, both Ian and Gedeon heard an audible SNAP coming from the very back of the unicorn’s neck, and it had caused Gedeon to immediately reverse back into a gremlin!

“What?! NO!” he screamed as he phased back into his normal self. Then the medallion whisked itself right into the palm of the teenage elf’s hand!

“HA-HA! YEAH!” Ian cheered with a giant smile as he caught the S.S. Medallion with his non-staff hand. “Summon Spell—works every time!”

The young wizard was absolutely thrilled to have the medallion back in his own grasp again after all of that turmoil. However, he instantly noticed that he’d accidentally torn its black string apart from forcing it off from Gedeon. But that didn’t matter now—what did matter was that it was no longer in the gremlin’s possession, and he could no longer shapeshift with it!

Needless to say, Gedeon was enraged. “GIVE. THAT. BACK!”

But Ian glared at him. “No,” he said. Then without hesitation, the younger Lightfoot placed the medallion down on the floor, which made the rogue wizard go pale.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?!” the gremlin demanded.

“What I should’ve done the moment I found this thing!” Ian countered.

He knew what he had to do—for the greater good—whether Gedeon liked it or not. The younger wizard had learned the S.S. Medallion’s main purpose, which he believed at this point was all he really needed to know. Feeling totally sure of himself, the teenage elf lifted his foot up into the air and positioned it right over the medallion.

“NOOOOO!” Gedeon screamed, reaching out a hand.

But Ian, releasing all the anger he had within him, dropped his foot to the ground and onto the medallion!

He felt as though he’d given it a real good shatter. However, when he lifted his sneaker off the floor, he instantly noticed that the medallion didn’t look destroyed. In fact, it looked exactly the same!

“Huh...what?” the younger wizard said aloud, confused. “Hang on...just gotta really...SMASH IT!” He then proceeded to try and bust the medallion again, and again, and again—but to no avail. For some reason, it just couldn’t be broken!

As Ian gaped down at the medallion, completely baffled as to why he couldn’t break it, he heard his foe cackling hysterically. The younger Lightfoot looked up, and there was Gedeon, laughing—with a few tears coming out of his eyes.

“You foolish boy! You should see the look on your face! Did you really think you could destroy the S.S. Medallion just like that?!” He heavily cackled some more before his face became earnest. “Well, YOU CAN’T! Why? BECAUSE IT’S INDESTRUCTIBLE! Neither fire, nor tide, not even Arcane Lightning can destroy this medallion! I told you I had the upper hand...”

Without a moment to lose, Ian swiftly picked up the medallion from off the floor and held it protectively before Gedeon could get his claws on it again. He had to keep it away from this wicked gremlin—but how? If destruction couldn’t do anything to it, then what else could he possibly do? He couldn’t just use the medallion himself, could he? It contained a powerful magic, which, now that he really thought about it, felt evil and possessive in its own right. There was no way he could do that to himself. Not after the many mistakes he’d made already.

The teenage elf stood right before the rogue wizard, and they both knew what the gremlin most greatly desired more than anything. Ian breathed heavily, panicking over what to do now. He turned his head towards the doors, considering bolting out of the classroom. But Gedeon read exactly what he was thinking.

“What are you gonna do? Run away? I’ll just come after you for it!” he taunted as the younger wizard turned back to face him. “There’s a whole building of people—heck, even a whole town, waiting to face their doom out there! Now, tell me...do you really want to pay the price for that?”

Ian glimpsed down at the medallion as he thought about his adversary’s threatening remark. All he could feel was absolutely stuck, until suddenly, he heard some familiar voices calling his name from a distance.

“IAN!”

They were his friends! The younger Lightfoot turned back to face the doors again with a worried look on his face.

“Oh, no...” he said anxiously under his breath.

To Gedeon, that answered his question. “This is just too easy,” he said, content. Seeing Ian distracted, the gremlin didn’t hesitate to wield his own wizard staff again and cast another surprise attack on the teenage elf. “Wynda Zephyria!”

Ian glanced back in Gedeon’s direction and screamed as the wind forced his whole self to move backward across the room. His body slammed against the wall with impact and he landed with his gut down to the floor. Next to his other two injuries, the elf wizard felt almost completely knocked out.

Even worse—as he came to, Ian realized that the S.S. Medallion wasn’t in the palm of his hand anymore! It took him a couple seconds to register that the talisman was forced out of his grasp and that it had landed just a few feet in front of him. He struggled to reach it in his weak state as the gremlin wandered towards him, snickering.

“I underestimated you, Ian. You’re really quite a match,” Gedeon said as he then bent down and picked up the medallion from off the floor.

Witnessing this before him, all the teenage elf could let out was a feeble, “no...” as he tried to inch himself forward. He looked up and noticed the gremlin using the loose ends of the medallion’s string to tie it back together. Then Gedeon put it back around his neck, with its following eye glow and all, as if it never broke apart.

“But as fun as this little game of ours is, I’ve really wasted enough of my time here,” the rogue wizard continued. “I got what I came for, you know what it does, so now I’m off to carry on with what I started...to be exactly who I want to be. And soon I will be rich, respected, and—just maybe—the most powerful wizard in all the United Realms!”

Ian struggled to get up from the floor. He couldn’t give up! He just couldn’t! The younger Lightfoot had only managed to get one knee off the ground when—

“Farewell, Ian! Or should I say, wizard boy?” Gedeon sneered. As he laughed evilly one more time, the gremlin got out something transparently shiny from within his robe, and placed it inside his wizard staff. Then pointing the staff towards the sky, he shouted, “Boombastia!”

The result of his spell had blasted an overwhelming amount of fireworks in the classroom! Their intensity had forced Ian back down to the floor. He was blinded by the loud, bright sparks of the explosions, and began coughing in the face of its resulting smoke. But seconds later, when the teenage elf could finally see again, he looked ahead and realized that Gedeon had disappeared!

In front of him, Ian could feel a rectangular brightness shining at him, and that’s when he noticed the now-open window behind Ms. Traven’s desk.

The young wizard tried to pick himself up again for what seemed like the millionth time, but he felt very weak. All he could do was lie there, exhausted and defeated.

“He has the medallion...” Ian said out loud, tired. “No...”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 17 ◊

Disarray

Ian was on the classroom floor, feeling completely divided and conquered. Every part of his teenage body ached from his head down to his feet. He couldn’t even get up off the ground anymore. All he could do now—at long last—was think, and it led him to asking the same brutal questions over and over again.

What had he done? How could he have let this Gedeon the Grotesque get away? But above all, how could he have let the rogue wizard get away with the S.S. Medallion? The younger Lightfoot had it right back in his hands again when—at the very last moment—the gremlin had won it all by playing one more devious trick on him!

Ian hadn’t felt more ashamed of himself in all his life. He laid there wishing he had never found the S.S. Medallion, wishing he had just left it right where it was in the Labyrinth Mall parking lot. He might’ve even wished that he wasn’t a wizard at all.

So there the teenage elf was—beating himself up after literally getting beaten up by a shapeshifting gremlin—when all of a sudden, the classroom doors burst open, and in came some of his friends—Althea, Kagar, and Sadalia.

“Let me at ’em! LET ME AT ’EM!” Althea screamed as she thrusted herself inside. The cyclops wildly swung her bedazzled prop bat around in front of her as the satyr and the elf followed in after her.

But as they all stopped at the threshold, the three friends then noticed that while they’d finally reached their history classroom, it now appeared a lot more smoky and trashed.

“Marsalax’s Beak...” Althea let out in a quieter voice as she lowered her theatrical weapon.

“What happened here?” Kagar asked subsequently. He was certain his friends were only overreacting when they told him that Ian was in danger. But now he could see from the heavy signs of a fight that they had every right to act that way.

While both the cyclops and the satyr could only stand there in shock—not knowing what else to say or do about what they were seeing—Sadalia used her observant eyes to look around at the damage. She thought it’d be much easier to investigate if the lights in the classroom were turned on, so she stepped away from her friends and went over to do just that. After flipping the switch upward, the elf reporter then turned back around, and almost slipped when she spotted the weakened wizard that was lying flat and coughing on the ground.

“You guys! Look!” she said, pointing.

Althea and Kagar gazed in Sadalia’s direction, and they both gasped. Then without a second thought, all three of them ran over to aid their wizard friend.

“Ian!” Sadalia cried as she rushed over to his right side. “Are you okay?!”

The elf wizard coughed some more, then faintly replied, “I’m fine...”

Even though he felt only half-conscious, Ian was absolutely surprised that of all people, his friends were the ones to find him here. But as he came to a little more, the young wizard instantly recollected something. He had already known that his friends were on their way because he had heard them calling his name from down the halls!

It was during which Ian had found himself at an impasse with his mentor-turned-traitor about the S.S. Medallion. As it turned out—despite it looking valuable and fragile—the medallion was indestructible, and therefore couldn’t be broken and unused! The rogue wizard then threatened he would come after the teenage elf and anyone else that got in his way if the younger wizard ran off with his treasure. It was a threat that seemed all too real to Ian as soon as he realized his friends were coming right towards him. The thought of them getting hurt only made him freeze, and it was that action alone that allowed Gedeon to escape with the medallion!

In the younger Lightfoot’s eyes, that was his adversary’s last devious trick. However, just as he quickly perceived this, he was soon snapped back into reality.

“What happened?” Althea asked him, pounding her bat into the palm of her hand. While she wanted to be a part of the action, the cyclops was beginning to sense that she and the others had just missed it.

But now on his hands and knees, and hyperventilating, Ian remorsefully told his friends, “Mr. Vance...has...the S.S. Medallion...”

The wizard glanced up at Kagar, Sadalia, and Althea—who were all now looking at each other, confused. The three of them had already known that Ian was going to ask this supposed Mr. Vance about a talisman, but he never said anything about having this talisman himself!

Then Ian stared straight at the open window Gedeon had escaped from, and attempted to stand back up again—intent on following the gremlin’s lead.

“I...have to...stop him...” the young wizard added with strain as he got up on his feet.

But when he did, he felt dizzy—and began to fall backwards towards the floor again!

“Whoa, Ian!” Kagar shrieked as he hastily grabbed his friend’s left arm. “Take it easy, man! I got you!”

“We all do,” Sadalia added, taking Ian’s other arm.

The three friends helped the elf wizard sit back down. Then while the lightheaded Ian was told to relax, Sadalia, Althea, and Kagar each split up around the classroom to help their friend track down his belongings. With his wizard staff already right next to him, Ian decided to shrink it down again, then he clipped it back onto his chain necklace. Once everything else of his was gathered, the four friends then all sat on the floor together.

“How’s that?” Kagar asked, sitting next to his worn out friend.

Before Ian could answer the satyr’s question, he reached for the water bottle that was conveniently tucked inside his bag’s side pocket, then drank a huge sip from it. Until now, the teenage elf didn’t comprehend just how thirsty he was after tangling with another, more powerful wizard. But as he drank, the young wizard felt lucky that despite his backpack ending up on the classroom’s flagpole that his friends were able to reach it for him. He also got to thinking that it probably got stuck there in the first place as a result of his Wind Spell. With how chaotic and out of control it got to be, it seemed to make the most sense. But as he released his lips from the bottle, Ian let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Better, thanks...” the elf wizard finally said, answering Kagar’s sympathy, then he let out a feeble chuckle. “Gotta say, it’s-it’s nice to be brought back up rather than get knocked back down, that’s for sure.”

Ian felt happy to settle down with his friends for a bit. He wasn’t sure if it was exactly what he needed, yet he somehow felt like their support was helping him break away from the ordeal he just went through. But then, as the teenage elf thought about it some more, he furrowed his brows, and wondered—why were his friends calling out to him from the halls?

From what he was able to hear from them in that moment of standstill with Gedeon, Ian got the sense that they were desperate, and wanted to find him immediately. While the young wizard didn’t want them to barge in and put themselves in danger, he now couldn’t help but ponder over the possibility that maybe, just maybe, his friends knew that he was in danger, and that perhaps they were coming to his rescue! Ian believed it sounded crazy—impossible, even—but he knew his side of the story. Now he wanted to know the perspectives of his friends.

“So...what are you guys doing here?” the elf wizard asked after a moment, looking at the group directly. “I thought...you had all left by now.”

“Well, I was about to go get froyo by myself,” Kagar said with a tone, staring each of his friends in the eye.

It was only followed by the two girls rolling their own eyes at him.

But choosing to ignore their annoyance, the satyr then gazed solely back at Ian. “When Sadalia and Althea came running towards me all worried and stuff saying that you were in danger.”

The last thing the elf wizard wanted right now was more backstabs and surprises. But he felt his heart drop again at the mention of his two girl-space-friends somehow knowing that he was in danger. He’d already suspected that that was the case, but he was really only just kidding himself. But wanting a true explanation from them both, Ian looked fixedly at the elf and the cyclops.

Both Sadalia and Althea were silent and grew guilty expressions on their faces. They were now each realizing as the minutes flew by that they had arrived too late to prevent whatever had just happened to their wizard friend from happening. But they were also both relieved that Ian was still here and alive so that they and Kagar could all get some things cleared up. So after a couple seconds of silence, Althea finally spoke up.

“Well, uh...Sal and I, we...we were, uh, down below the stage to look for this baby,” she explained, holding out her prop bat for the rest of her friends to see.

“But then we heard these strange muffling and banging sounds coming out of nowhere, so we decided to investigate,” Sadalia continued, “and when we found out where they were coming from, it turned out to be Ms. Traven tied up in a closet!”

“What? No way!” Kagar exclaimed. He was the only one of the four teens who let out any surprise from this turn of events.

Meanwhile, Ian remembered Gedeon saying something about taking care of Ms. Traven—whatever that meant at the time—and now the young wizard just wanted to know if their real teacher was unharmed.

So he asked, “is she all right?”

“Yeah, she’s fine now,” Althea assured him as she played around with her bat some more. “But what was really weird was that my prop ended up being in the exact same closet. I mean, what luck, right?”

“Yes, very lucky,” Sadalia agreed with a chuckle. “Then we untied her and she told us all about how she got captured, about how some freak wizard did it, and that—”

But suddenly, the once excited journalist hesitated. She had now gotten to the most dramatic part of her and Althea’s story—and she wasn’t sure just how Ian was going to take it. Yet, from the way the elf wizard was looking at her, she could see that—no matter what—he wanted to know the whole truth.

So finally, she said, “and that...he was pretending to be our substitute teacher...”

Then there was another silence—and in that silence, Ian grew his own guilt-ridden look. He knew exactly what Sadalia was talking about. While he didn’t want to make eye contact with his friends anymore, he could tell that they were all looking at him now—presently wanting to know his side of the story. All the young wizard wanted to do now was disappear and go back to being alone again. But it seemed like that wasn’t going to be an option.

“Ian...what happened to you?” Sadalia asked him softly. “I mean, your neck, it’s...it’s bleeding!”

“Yeah...I know...” the elf wizard said sadly as he continued to look away from his friends. He didn’t really want them to notice the scratch on his neck. So he placed a hand over it to hide it and to help put pressure on it. Then he sighed heavily.

The teenage elf really wasn’t sure where to start with his explanation. All he could think about was how his friends were going to take what happened to him and what he had hidden from them. They were all acting super supportive of him now, but he wondered if they would still be supportive once he told them the whole truth.

“Maybe we should take you to the nurse,” Kagar suggested in the midst of Ian’s thinking. The satyr was about to stand up and help his friend walk, but the elf wizard stopped him.

“No, no...Kagar, please! I just...I need to sit here...” he insisted.

“Then can you tell us what happened?” Althea asked. “Like, where Mr. Vance is, and why you look all tired and beaten up, ’cause we’re all just sitting here, and—”

“Althea!” Sadalia rebuked, elbowing her best friend.

“No, Sadalia, it’s fine,” Ian obliged, but then he sighed dejectedly again. “I think I deserved that...I really messed things up...”

The room went quiet again as the elf wizard resumed his thinking about where to start with his side of the story. He now figured just letting it all out before the possibility of an explosion was probably for the best. Because his friends sat there waiting, slightly leaning in with anticipation.

Before long, Ian cleared his throat, and said, “I-I guess it all started on Sunday...”

From there, the young wizard told his friends everything.

He began with what he actually did last weekend—which was finding the mysterious S.S. Medallion in the Labyrinth Mall parking lot with Barley. Next, he told them about wanting to include Mr. Vance in his quest in figuring out its purpose. Especially after spotting the medallion on their teacher’s slideshow presentation about magical relics and seeing what looked to be Mr. Vance’s hand holding it in the photo—when in reality it was actually his own.

After that, Ian skipped over to what had happened to him today during their after school meeting. He started with meeting their teacher and handing the S.S. Medallion over to him. Next, he went on to explain Mr. Vance’s betrayal and how he revealed himself to actually be a gremlin wizard named Gedeon. Then he recounted his adversary’s backstory and described their duel, until finally, he ended his story with the disappearance of both the medallion and the rogue wizard.

“And so...that’s why you all found me lying here...” Ian finished, his gaze focused downward at his interlaced hands, which were now shaking tensely.

As soon as the elf wizard was done with his long account, there was silence again. It was all coming back to him—everything that had happened since discovering the S.S. Medallion—and all it did was make him feel all the more guilty and miserable. While he couldn’t bear to see the looks on his friends’ faces directly, Ian could tell that they were all amazed and disturbed about what he’d just told them. But what he couldn’t grasp was whether or not they were mad at him about what he did—which was what he really expected to come out of this whole thing. Either way, the younger Lightfoot just knew what he had to say next.

“You guys...I...I-I’m sorry...I am SO sorry I didn’t tell you all about this. You-you should’ve known,” he said, his voice full of heavy regret. “I just...I-I didn’t want to put anyone in danger. But now because I...because I trusted this guy I...I may have put the whole realm in danger...”

Althea, Sadalia, and Kagar looked at each other, then back to Ian—who now had his hands over his face in shame.

“I should’ve listened to you guys. Y-you were right. You were all right about Mr. Vanc—GEDEON!”

The young wizard gazed up again, and momentarily seethed with anger after correcting himself to say his adversary’s real, evil name.

“Gedeon...” he repeated as he heavily breathed in and out through clenched teeth, but then that heavy breathing turned into panic. “And I...I-I didn’t listen...and because of that, I-I-I don’t know what to do...I DON’T KNOW what to do! I have to—”

Just then, Kagar put a hand on his flustered friend’s arm.

“Hey, hey, hey, Ian! Calm down! It’s okay,” he assured.

“But I—”

“Yeah, none of us knew this would happen,” Sadalia added. Then she glanced over at Althea and gave her a look that pretty much said, say something nice to him.

“I know, but I—”

“We are your friends, Ian, and we want to help you,” Althea emphasized. “To be honest, Sal and I, we...we really thought you were in serious trouble. Like, w-we thought maybe you were going to be kidnapped or something. But no, it sounds like you put up a real good fight against this Gedeon guy. I’m impressed!”

Sadalia and Kagar nodded in agreement as the cyclops spoke. She was speaking the truth. The three of them didn’t seem at all upset with Ian or his actions.

But while the elf wizard appreciated their encouragement, he still didn’t feel convinced. In fact, he only felt himself getting even more riled up by the second.

“BUT I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he screamed. “I let this happen! I let Gedeon take the S.S. Medallion! A-and-and who knows what he’s going to do with it? I-I was so stupid and...and...a SCREWUP!”

Ian suddenly felt a huge lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe what he’d just said about himself. Neither could his friends. Even they were taken aback by this self-accusation. But to the young wizard—who was now panting heavily again—it seemed to fit exactly what he was right now.

“Y-y-yeah...th-that-that’s what I am...a-a screwup,” Ian then said in a softer, more emotional voice. “And to think that I thought Barley was the screwup for most of my life...but no, it-it’s me! A-and maybe it always was me...”

Sensing that her friend was about to break down in tears, Sadalia tried to say otherwise. “Ian—”

But at that moment, all four teens heard who they thought was their history teacher’s voice coming from down the hall.

“Ian?!” she called.

The next thing they knew, Ms. Traven came in through the doorway—and was extremely stunned.

“GARGAMON’S TAIL!” she shrieked, looking at the horizon of what was now her wrecked classroom. “Wha...what happened to my classroom?! Was it hit by a tornado?!”

“Not just a tornado...” a quiet Ian said sadly.

As soon as she heard the voice of her formerly endangered student, Ms. Traven disregarded her damaged classroom, and turned to face him—letting out a huge, hearty sigh of relief.

“Ms. Traven, y-you have every right to be—” the young wizard began to say before he noticed his history teacher suddenly smiling.

“Oh, Ian!” she said, walking towards him and the rest of her students. “Thank goodness you’re all right! Are you hurt?”

“J-just some bruises, and, uh...a scratch, but I’m okay,” Ian said, rubbing the scratched side of his neck. The teenage elf could also feel that his left shoulder was still cramped, but other than that, he didn’t feel seriously injured elsewhere. “Actually, Ms. Traven, my friends were just telling me that you were, um...tied up and thrown in a closet...is-is that right?”

The history teacher sighed with sorrow as she sat herself down next to her students. “Y-yes, I’m afraid so, Ian. I was trapped in the one down below the auditorium stage ever since the week started. But don’t you worry, I’m feeling much better now! So what have you all been—”

“Eh, we’ve just been sitting here explaining each of our sides of the story,” Althea explained. “And Ian was just telling us about the robed man who tied you up.”

“We know who he is now,” Sadalia continued.

“Oh, and who is he?” Ms. Traven asked, intrigued to know more about her captor.

Ian took a deep breath in, then let it out. “Gedeon. His name is Gedeon the Grotesque,” he explained solemnly. “A-and he attacked me, too, Ms. Traven. He...he wanted something from me, and-and he got it. And I let him get away...”

It was then that the history teacher took her turn in growing a guilty expression. She sighed sadly, then said, “and I...feel like I should be the one to blame for it.”

“What do you mean?” the young wizard asked. He was starting to feel his heart rapidly pounding again.

“If I had to guess, this...Gedeon...followed me. I was already down below the stage to get something, when...he showed up and...restrained me. But before that, he came up to me and showed me a photo of you, and...and he asked me if you were one of my students. When I told him ‘yes,’ well...you probably know the rest. And then I guess he went after you, Ian.”

“Oh,” was all Ian could let out. His face fell. As the minutes passed, he felt more and more threatened by Gedeon than ever. He quickly deduced without much effort that the photo the rogue wizard showed his teacher just had to be the same one the very pretender used in his fake presentation.

But noticing her student become melancholy, Ms. Traven said to him, “when he showed me the photo of you and asked who you were, I thought maybe...he was a friend of yours. The very last thing I expected was for him to ask me who you were so he could attack you.” But still feeling exceptionally guilty, she sighed and added, “I’m very, very sorry, Ian...believe me, if there was any way I could go back in time and not tell this rogue who you were, I wouldn’t.”

Ian sat in silence for a couple seconds, then brightening up a little, he said, “it’s okay, Ms. Traven. I’m just glad Sadalia and Althea were able to find you when they did.”

“Same here,” Sadalia agreed.

“Yeah, but I still wish I could’ve used my bat on that freak!” Althea said as she stood and slammed the barrel of her bat into her hand.

All Sadalia could do was facepalm and sigh at her best friend’s new prop obsession, while Kagar burst out a giggle. But Ian’s unhappy face wouldn’t budge. He felt like it was going to take a big miracle to really turn it around.

“I went to the office and called the police a few minutes ago,” Ms. Traven told her students after a moment. “They should be here any minute now to investigate this classroom, the trap room, the security room, and question the faculty.”

With this latest news, Ian just knew without even questioning it that Colt would be one of the police officers coming over to examine the crime scenes in the school—being his mother’s boyfriend and all. But this only put more fear into the young wizard’s already fast beating heart. He knew without a doubt that this whole thing was not going to bode well with his mother. It only made him wish even more that he and Barley had never kept the medallion a secret. But that’s when the younger Lightfoot realized his biggest problem yet.

As a now more worried Ian found himself back on another huge train of thought, he didn’t realize at first that Ms. Traven had spoken to him again.

“The good news is that you won’t have to answer any questions for them yet,” the history teacher said. “Principal Pipplemell has granted you permission to go straight home and rest. The bad news is that she wants to see you before you go.” She reached out a hand. “But first, let’s take you to the nurse.”

After everything Ian had been through that afternoon, he genuinely felt happy to be around a real, trustworthy teacher again. Ms. Traven and his friends helped him stand back up again, then they all walked him down to the nurse to mend his wounds and bruises. The elf wizard also felt extremely grateful to be given the authorization to go home because that was exactly what he wanted to do—go home and be alone. His mind wouldn’t stop racing from what he had just experienced in the last half hour that he didn’t really want to talk to anybody anymore today.

But with the S.S. Medallion gone, a hopeless Ian really didn’t know what to do. Worse yet, he really didn’t know how he was going to explain all of this to his brother. But something told him that a reprimanding “I told you so” was in the cards...

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 18 ◊

Breakdown

The young wizard stared down at his feet as he sluggishly walked himself home from school. He felt like an absolute mess. He’d never been more humiliated in all his life.

After being treated with bandages and ice packs by the nurse, Ian was escorted to the main office for a short conference with Principal Pipplemell—where she downright chewed him out for destroying her school. Again. She was overreacting, of course. But even still, she sure could yell loudly and harshly for such a tiny gnome!

Thankfully, the elf wizard didn’t have to suffer through her tireless reprimanding alone. He was joined by his friends and Ms. Traven—who all stood around Ian as he sat opposite the principal at her desk.

Their overall meeting didn’t take very long. However, it did end with the teenage elf getting suspended from school for the rest of the week. The last thing the principal wanted at any cost was for the young wizard to be anywhere near her school while what she called “a major ruckus” got investigated. The still-damaged security room, a staff member held captive in a closet, the now equally-wrecked history classroom—all of which the head gnome accused the younger Lightfoot of being responsible.

While Ms. Traven, Kagar, Sadalia, and Althea all tried to vouch for Ian—by explaining that all he really set out to do was stop a criminal from escaping with a talisman—the elf wizard denied their insistence and accepted the principal’s penalty.

As unfair of a punishment as a suspension seemed, Ian believed in his own misery that he very well deserved it. He simply couldn’t bear the idea of walking back into school again, only to be called a failure by his peers.

He needed a break from it all, and a suspension—though drastic—was how he felt he was going to get it. The only thing that really made him dread it, though, was his family. If there was anything the youngest Lightfoot couldn’t predict on top of everything else, it was how his mother and brother were going to feel about that.

After thinking over his discipline for a bit, the teenage elf had eventually made it to his street of Pennybun Lane. There, he ran into Gedeon’s wanted poster for what had to be the third or fourth time tops. Taking a glance at it each time, Ian could see that it was indeed the rogue wizard who had deceived and attacked him today. But that didn’t make him feel any less aggravated.

Stopping himself in front of the latest poster he saw attached to a telephone pole, the frowning young wizard looked to his left and right. He wanted to make sure no one in the area was watching him. Then letting out a frustrated “grrr!”, he tore off the wanted poster, and aggressively crumpled it up into a ball. After throwing it hard on the ground in anger, Ian began panting heavily in and out through gritted teeth. But then his breathing slowed as he soon thought of a much better idea.

The teenage elf kneeled down and picked up the poster. Keeping it crumpled into a ball, he stuck it inside his backpack, then continued to make his way home.

In a matter of seconds, Ian made it to 313. While he didn’t see his mother’s car parked in the driveway, he stopped when he noticed that Guinevere the Second was—which, to the young wizard, meant that Barley was home.

Ian stood there hesitantly for a moment, his mind flashing back once more to when he and his brother had used the Disguise Spell during their quest for the Phoenix Gem. When he had inadvertently called his brother a screwup. And how that led them to a fierce argument. He sighed sadly.

Well, he thought, if a Disguise Spell can test us once, how will this be any different?

Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, the younger Lightfoot then trudged up the walkway to the front door. He opened it and walked through—with his only real intention if anything being to head for the stairs and go straight to his bedroom without seeing anyone. But after closing the door behind him, Ian flinched when he found Barley sitting on the bottom step with his arms crossed—blocking the younger elf’s way to get upstairs.

“So...Ian,” the older elf said with what sounded like a hint of confrontation in his voice. “How was school today?”

The younger Lightfoot slumped his shoulders. Here he thought that right now—in this very room, in this very situation—would be his chance to boast in Barley’s face that he was able to find out what they wanted to know about the S.S. Medallion, all thanks to Mr. Vance. But instead, all Ian saw himself having really done was strike a deal with a deceitful adversary, and get exactly all the information he wanted to know—only to be completely swindled in the process.

The young wizard felt like such a fool. He had let the medallion fall into the wrong hands, and could feel it in his heart that his older, quest-loving brother was never going to forgive him for it. But at the very least, the younger elf knew that he had to tell Barley what happened.

Looking down at his feet again, and letting out a heavy-hearted sigh, a remorseful Ian said to his brother, “okay...I admit it...I searched through your room this morning and took the talisman to Mr. Vance.”

Saying no more than that, the younger Lightfoot decided to remove his backpack from his shoulders, and place it down on the ground. Then with a slow pace, Ian walked over to the living room, and sat down on the farthest end of the couch. He placed his left elbow on the arm rest and put its respective hand on his cheek. Just sitting there—the younger elf stared into nothingness, not wanting to stare at anything else.

But Barley—feeling like he’d been left hanging—followed Ian into the living room.

“And? Did he have anything else to say about it?” the older elf asked as he decided to join his younger brother on the couch. He chose to sit a considerable distance from Ian because somehow he was getting the feeling that what his brother had found out wasn’t good.

As surprised as the younger elf was that Barley wasn’t instantly berating him for taking the medallion from under the floorboard, he didn’t show it. He couldn’t even look at his older brother. He was still no less guilty than he was an hour ago.

“Not much...” Ian revealed. “Except that it has the power to give its user incredible shapeshifting abilities...”

Barley was amazed. From the way Ian was acting, he was half-expecting his younger brother to say that he’d gotten no results again, or that his source had actually scammed him. But this new answer made the older elf smile wide.

“No way...that’s awesome!” he shouted. “So-so like the Disguise Spell, you can turn into anyone you want?”

“Uh-huh,” Ian answered flatly.

“A-and does it last longer? Like, you don’t have to tell the truth?”

Ian sighed. “Ee-yep.”

Even though Barley was beaming with joy and excitement from this news, it dwindled when he noticed that his brother still seemed down for some reason.

“Hey...what’s wrong?” he asked, gazing at Ian with concern.

The younger Lightfoot still wouldn't look back at his brother. Deep inside his head, he was processing a multitude of his own thoughts.

After a couple moments of silence, Barley said sheepishly, “look, I-I know I got mad and shoved you the other day, and...I wanted to apologize for that. I should’ve been more open to your idea of going to another expert. I mean...if it makes you feel any better, I was just considering...today, maybe taking the talisman over to Shrub’s house for our next Quests of Yore campaign...to see if he knew anything about it. But I guess I don’t have to now...right?”

Ian remained quiet and distant, keeping his focus on the nothingness. He knew full well that his brother’s apology was immediately going to be taken back as soon as he told the older Lightfoot what he also found out.

“Ian...it’s okay. Really,” Barley insisted. He wanted to reach his brother somehow. “Believe me, as someone who’s been into magic a lot longer than you have, I can understand wanting answers and wanting them now.”

With each and every new word trying to get through to him, the young wizard just couldn’t take it anymore. His brother had to know.

“No...y-you were right. You were right not to trust Mr. Vance,” the younger elf finally said quietly in defeat. Then he shifted his position on the couch so that Barley could see a little more of him. “In fact, he’s...not Mr. Vance at all...”

Barley furrowed his brows. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what was coming, but was still confused all the same about the last thing his brother said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He’s actually this evil gremlin wizard named Gedeon the Grotesque,” Ian explained. But as he did, he started to get emotional. “He...he used the Disguise Spell...a-and tricked me into giving him the S.S. Medallion so that he could have it all for himself!”

“What?!” Barley shouted in an alarmed whisper.

But Ian put his hand up. “I know, I know...you’re mad at me again. A-and you have every right to be.” Then he sniffled as he felt tears well up in his eyes. “This is all my fault. I mean...some wizard I am...like, how? H-HOW could I trust this guy over you?! My own brother?! Barley...I...I-I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...I-I should’ve listened to you, a-and I didn’t! And now because of me, Gedeon has this powerful medallion—a-a-and who knows what he’s going to do with it?! Take over the realm, that’s what! I’m SUCH a screwup!”

Now having let all of his deepest feelings explode out into the open, the younger Lightfoot then curled himself into a tight ball, and buried his face inside to hide his intense emotion. He felt so ashamed, and was absolutely sure his brother was, too. But suddenly, Ian felt a big hand place itself on his back.

“Ian, look at me,” Barley began, and the younger elf—now fully in tears—looked up to see his tender brother’s face. “The last thing I ever want you to do is beat yourself up over this. Sure, you made a mistake, but...I’m proud of you for admitting to it. That takes guts.”

Saying that, the older Lightfoot patted his own gut.

Admittedly, that made Ian laugh a little, but then his face turned sour again as he still felt terrible about everything.

“You know what else took guts?” Barley then asked.

“No, what?” Ian questioned, his voice almost inaudible.

“I find it pretty darn amazing that you were so bold as to infiltrate my room and steal the talisman back, no matter how far or how long it took you. If I recall, you’ve hardly ever stolen anything from me before. I feel like I was always the one stealing from you. But no, you proved yourself to be a true rogue, Sir Iandore!”

That comment didn’t lift Ian as much as the last one.

“Yeah, but...if-if I hadn’t stolen it, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” he said as a tear rolled down his cheek, then he sniffled again and shut his eyes tightly. “I was really no better than he was...”

Seeing Ian’s feelings hurt, Barley let go of him. “Sorry, little bro, I was just trying to be funny. Scratch that.”

But the younger Lightfoot was silent once more.

The older elf distanced himself again and took a moment to think. Finally, he let out a sigh and said, “look, what I’m trying to say is...I’ve seen you grow these past few months since our quest with Dad. I’ve seen how much you’ve been more willing to take risks. It’s true that some of those risks can trigger really bad consequences. Trust me, I get it. I’ve been there dozens of times trying to save several pieces of history from being demolished. But that’s why risks are a part of life. You can learn from them.”

“Yeah, I...I-I suppose you’re right about that,” Ian said with another sniffle.

“And one more thing...” Barley added as he put both his hands on Ian’s shoulders, and had his younger brother unravel from his ball and face him. “You are NOT some wizard! Out of all the bold, valiant, masterful wizards there are in the history of yore, you are the best, most amazing wizard I will ever know—and that will never change.”

A teary-eyed Ian felt so touched by Barley’s words, he was almost speechless.

“Really?” he said in disbelief. “But...but Barley, I—”

“Ian, I mean it! That will never change.”

The younger elf took a moment to sniffle one more time and wipe the tears away from his eyes. Then finally cracking a smile, he said, “thanks, Barley, I-I needed that.”

“Aw, come here, little bro,” the older elf said, spreading his arms out.

And with that, Ian leaned inward and the two brothers happily embraced.

A couple seconds later, both of them heard the back door open.

“Hello? Anyone home?” their mother called from the kitchen.

“We’re in the living room!” Barley answered, finally letting go of his brother.

Hearing her older son, Laurel came right into the room. As soon as she saw her younger son there, too, she was relieved.

“Oh, Ian, thank Zadar you’re home! Are you all right, honey? I just got a call from school saying you were attacked, and that you got a suspension! What—”

“Wait...” Barley interrupted, feeling his heart drop down to his stomach. “Gedeon attacked you?!”

As the older Lightfoot jerked up from the couch—now angry and shouting—Ian tried to signal for him to shut up, but it seemed it was already too late for that.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who’s Gideon?” their mother asked, waving her arms. She then put her hands on her hips and glared at both of her sons, particularly her younger son.

“Gĕd-e-in, Mom. Not giddy-in,” Ian corrected. “And...it’s a long story...”

Now smirking, Laurel went over and pulled up a chair before her sons and sat down in it. “I’ve got all afternoon.”

The youngest Lightfoot sighed heavily. He really had no way out of this now.

Neither did Barley.

From the way their mother looked back and forth between them, it was clear that she wanted an explanation from them both. And so, the both of them told her absolutely everything from start to finish—without leaving anything out.

It was around dinner hour by the time the brothers finished their long account about their quest for the S.S. Medallion.

“Well...I guess that explains why Colt hasn’t been answering my calls lately...” Laurel said, disappointed, then she turned to Ian. “He must be at your school now. He called me just this morning to say that he and his squad have been chasing down this jewel thief, and...I wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually referring to Gedeon.”

The youngest elf was afraid of that. But after all he’d been through today, he also felt totally relieved to not be hiding anything from his family or his friends anymore.

“Anyways, enough interrogation, I think it’s time to get dinner started,” Laurel then said as she got up from her chair, leaving only Ian and Barley in the living room once again. But then she called, “oh, but Ian! We are gonna have to have a chat about your suspension later.”

That put an anxious expression on the youngest Lightfoot’s face. But Barley gave him a pat on the back.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Sir Iandore. Getting suspended isn’t all that bad. We’ll get that medallion back.” Afterwards, the older elf made his way over to the kitchen and said, “hey, Mom, can I talk to you for a second?”

Ian had no idea what Barley wanted to talk to their mother about. But as long as his brother and mother were both occupied now, the youngest elf saw this as his chance to finally escape to his room and be alone at last.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian kicked off his shoes and laid on top of his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was all he’d been doing for the last hour or so. Until now, his head wasn’t as chock full of thoughts as it was right in this moment. But everything kept going back and forth for him.

He also held his notebook close to his chest as he tried to process everything. Gedeon tricking and attacking him, stealing the S.S. Medallion from his brother, the gremlin stealing it from him, and finally, his friends and Barley easily forgiving him and calling him the best wizard they knew. It was all so much.

But he also realized that unlike the last two days, he hadn’t written anything in his notebook at all today in terms of a to-do list. So he lifted it up to his face and opened it to what he hoped would be the next blank page on the first try. But instead, he’d opened it to his distraction list from yesterday afternoon.

The teenage elf groaned. He didn’t even want to look at that list anymore. All it did was remind him of the thief he was unintentionally trying to be. So he tore it out, crumpled it, and lazily tossed it towards his trash can—missing, of course.

The next page he laid his eyes on was the to-do list from the day before, in which he had everything checked off except for the crossed out “share findings with Barley.” This page he wasn’t so tempted to tear out. It didn’t infuriate him as much, but it still made him feel terrible. The only reason he’d crossed out the last item was because Barley didn’t want him to show the medallion in person to “Mr. Vance.” But in the end, the older Lightfoot had a good reason for believing that. However, now that Ian really thought about it, he did just share some true findings with his brother about the S.S. Medallion’s purpose when he came home from school—that it could grant wizards the ability to shapeshift—and Barley, from how excited he got, seemed to buy it this time! And as far as the younger Lightfoot was concerned, he and his brother were finally back on good terms.

So reaching for his pen at his bedside table, Ian clicked it open, then put a check next to sharing findings with Barley. Doing that, he cracked a small smile. After having been tense with his brother for what seemed like forever, it felt absolutely right. Afterwards, he unclicked his pen and put it back where it was before. Then he closed his notebook and held it on top of his chest again.

In that moment, the younger Lightfoot was now back to where he was before, staring at the ceiling and thinking thoughts.

Difficult thoughts, they were.

Ian frowned. As he continued to think further and further down the line, he was soon getting a flashback—and it wasn’t pleasant.

◊ ◊ ◊

People around every corner, bright camera flashes that blinded his eyes, lots of noise and yelling coming from several different directions—and it was all happening right at him.

“Ian! Ian!”

“Mr. Lightfoot, look this way!”

“Ian, over here!”

“Smile for the camera!”

The younger Lightfoot blinked rapidly. He held his wizard staff tightly in his hand, trying to keep a good composure for the newscasters asking him questions and the photographers taking hundreds of pictures of him at once.

“Mr. Lightfoot, it’s been almost half a year since the dragon incident, did you ever think you’d come up against something like that?”

“How does it feel to be the only wizard in the modern realm?”

“How do you balance being a wizard and a teenager at the same time?”

“I, uh—”

“Is it true that you cast the all-powerful Arcane Lightning?”

“Would you still have been able to save us if the fountain were torn down and you didn’t go after the gem?”

“Do you know of any other curses hiding under the crevices of New Mushroomton?”

“I-I don’t—”

“Is your father’s staff still in the ocean?”

“Was he also a powerful wizard?”

“I...I-I can’t...I—”

“How exactly did you put the high school back together?”

“Can you protect us from any other threats?”

“So many people look up to you...”

“Can you do a spell for us right now?”

Ian’s mind was racing from every single one of these overwhelming questions. But it was now racing in a fortuitous direction as he finally thought of something that could get him out of this situation.

“Uh...a-as, uh, as a matter of fact, I-I can...uh...”

The teenage elf held out his wizard staff, then pointed it at himself. Using the tip of it, he drew a triangle in the air, then sticking a slash right through the shape, he recited, “Visage Invisio!”

At that moment, Ian disappeared in a flash.

The news stations were all amazed at his astounding feat and took several more pictures of what had to be the young wizard’s invisible self.

“Excellent! Just excellent!”

“I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Very impressive, Ian! How did you do that?”

There was no response.

“Ian?”

“Mr. Lightfoot?”

The journalists, reporters, and photographers looked around, but the younger Lightfoot was nowhere to be seen. But being as persistent as they were, they wouldn’t give up.

“Ian, one more question!”

“Where did he go?”

“He’s gone!”

But unbeknownst to all of them, Ian was now hiding several feet away from them, having released his Invisibility Spell in a back alley. Breathing rapidly, he then ran off to someplace far, far away.

The teenage elf ultimately found refuge several blocks away at a secluded pond deep within a wooded area and kneeled right in front of it.

Resting and panting from exhaustion, Ian used his ears to listen to the calm ambience around him. Then he looked up and watched the lily pads float on the surface of the water and dragonflies land from one waterlily to another.

It was all peaceful, and peace was just what the young wizard needed. But peace was what he really wanted in his life, anyway.

Ian then leaned inward and eyed the water directly in front of him. Gazing right into it, the younger Lightfoot saw his reflection. But from what he could tell, it just wasn’t him.

He sighed, then after taking all the time he needed not to speak, the teenage elf finally uttered, “please just...leave me alone...”

Having said what he wanted to say to all those people back there, a single tear left the young wizard’s eye and dropped into the pond, creating a ripple.

◊ ◊ ◊

Tears had once again built into Ian’s eyes as he continued to lay on top of his bed, thinking back on that dreadful day.

It surprised him how it had happened not too long ago. But considering what had just taken place today, the teenage elf was afraid to think an experience like that might happen to him again—and that it would be much, much worse.

Just then, there was a knock on his door.

Not wanting whoever it was to see him crying again, Ian sat right up and swiftly wiped away his tears as he said, “come in!”

The handle turned, and Barley peeked his head right through his brother’s bedroom door.

“Hey, young mage,” he said, smiling. “How you feelin’?”

Focusing on his little brother sitting on the bed, the older elf could tell Ian was still having it rough. His eyes were red, and his hair was a little messier than it was earlier.

“Miserable,” the younger elf answered with a sigh.

It was just as Barley thought. He used an elbow to push the rest of the door open, then walked through it carrying a tray with both hands, and made his way over to Ian’s bed.

“I brought thee your sustenance,” the older Lightfoot said as he sat on the mattress and handed the tray to his brother. “Mom thought you’d want it up here.”

“Wow! Mac and cheese! Thanks,” the younger Lightfoot said, smiling and taking the tray.

“I also have something else that might help...” Barley added.

“What is it?”

Singing out a fanfare, the older elf reached into his vest and got out the Quests of Yore guidebook, which made Ian a little confused. Not that he could blame himself for it. He’d been feeling a lot of feelings today. So his mind coming up blank for why his brother had the book this time only made the most sense.

“No offense, Barley, but...I don’t feel like playing,” the younger elf said as he began to eat. “I’m tired, and therefore, not in the mood.”

“O contraire, Sir Iandore,” Barley corrected. “I doth not come up here for a campaign.”

“Then what?”

The older Lightfoot opened the guidebook and flipped through its pages. “Quests of Yore may not have had our backs on the S.S. Medallion, but right now, it hast come to our aid for something just as important!”

How to deal with trauma? Ian wondered to himself.

Soon Barley found the page he was looking for and showed it up for his brother to see. “BEHOLD!”

The younger Lightfoot leaned in closer and his eyes widened. “Gremlins!”

“Exactly.”

“So, what does Q of Y say about them?”

Barley handed the whole book to his brother. “Thought you and I should find out together.”

Once Ian took it with both of his hands, he began to read. “‘Hath you ever found thyself a broke piece of machinery that worked just fine yesternight, but now see that it has been torn to pieces from the inside out? Chances are, a Gremlin was behind it!’”

“Interesting...” Barley said. “Keep going.”

“‘Mysterious, bat-eared, scaly creatures that lurketh in the darkness, waiting to pounce, Gremlins are notorious for messing around with mechanical properties. Using their bare teeth and sharp claws, these cunning beings love to cause nothing but trouble for their fellow species.’ Yep...already figured that out. Let’s see...what else? Uh...‘’tis difficult to—”

“Wait! Stop right there, young mage! It said ‘they are notorious for messing around with mechanical properties’?”

“Well...that is what the book says...why?”

Barley let out a small gasp, then mumbled, “I wonder if that’s what happened to Guinevere...”

“What?”

“I drove Guinevere the Second all around town today, thinking things over...but then I stopped at a deli to buy a sandwich because I was SUPER hungry, and when I came back out and turned on her engine, Guinevere wouldn’t go anywhere. She was...she was out of it!”

“Oh, no...but...she’s in the driveway, right? I-I saw her when I came home, is she—”

“Oh, she’s fine now. Her exhaust system was just busted. So I ended up having to call a tow truck, and they fixed her right up no problem. But...”

“But what?”

“Nothing, it was just really expensive! But Mom’s agreed to help pay for half the damages.”

That’s when Ian realized why his brother went to talk to their mom after their living room discussion. It was only about Guinevere. Knowing that now, he nodded, then he furrowed his brows and wondered what that exactly had to do with gremlins.

“So anyway, I didn’t know how or why Gwinny’s exhaust got all out of whack,” Barley added. “But now that I really think about it...before I got inside of her, I did hear this unusual snickering, then I saw these shadows coming from a few feet from where I was standing.”

“You think gremlins did it?”

“It’s possible! I mean, Guinevere was working just fine yesterday! And OH!”

Barley reached a hand into his vest pocket and pulled out what looked to be a small piece of paper. He handed it to Ian.

The younger Lightfoot took the paper and read it carefully.

“You asked for it,” it said.

It was a brief message, but one that sounded familiar.

“That’s strange,” Ian said. “Gedeon said this same thing to me after he transformed into a raven.”

“Oooooh, are you suggesting he has a catchphrase? And that he messed with Guinevere?”

“That depends...wha-when did this happen?”

“At around noon.”

“Wait...no...but...that’s impossible! Gedeon was with me at around noon. When I told him about my reaction to the medallion. There’s no way he could’ve been in two places at once...”

“Hmm...in that case, maybe he didn’t do it...but I could swear judging from this picture”—Barley pointed to the illustration of a gremlin in the Quests of Yore guidebook—“that the shadow I saw looked exactly like this.”

“Weird...let’s see what else the book says...”

Ian handed it over for Barley to read, seeing that the older elf was just as curious as he was about these creatures right now, then he continued to eat his dinner.

“‘’Tis difficult to spot a Gremlin in broad daylight, as it is their biggest weakness,’” the older Lightfoot read. “‘So you are likely to find their kind populated inside caves or in dark, densely cloudy areas.’”

The younger Lightfoot leaned forward as his brother read, taking in every word of importance. Just the fact that this species hated light made sense to him now as he remembered noticing that “Mr. Vance” didn’t seem to like light, either.

“‘But if you think one gremlin sounds troublesome enough,’” Barley continued, “‘DO NOT find yourself with the species near water. Just a few drops on their skin will cause the creature to duplicate and make a clone of themselves!’”

The older Lightfoot then looked up from his reading with a look of realization.

“Hey, that’s it! A CLONE DID IT!”

“You really think so?” the younger elf asked.

“Think about it, Ian...you’re right, Gedeon can’t be in two places at once. But certainly he and a clone could!”

“Yeah...yeah, that-that’s true...and-and if it found you, a-and knew you were my brother and that you didn’t want me to give the medallion to Gedeon, then...then it must’ve sabotaged Guinevere to keep you from getting to me!”

“My thoughts exactly, Sir Iandore,” Barley nodded, then he handed the book back to Ian. “There’s one more paragraph, would you do the honors?”

“Sure,” Ian said, having now finished eating. He took the Quests of Yore guidebook, then he read aloud, “‘the only way to eliminate clones of a Gremlin is to hit them with direct sunlight, then they will vanish into thin air! But the original being will still remain intact, albeit weakened.’”

After reading the last sentence, Ian skimmed through the entire Gremlins page once more—over and over again, then he sighed.

“Not enough for ya?” Barley asked.

“Ohhhhh, no, this is plenty for me,” the younger Lightfoot clarified, sounding annoyed, as he closed the guidebook and handed it back to his brother.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Putting his tray aside, Ian got up from his bed and began to pace around. “Well, let’s see...they hate sunlight, they can tear apart machinery, and they can clone themselves! How could I not see that? I’m such an idiot!”

“Ian, come on, you’re not an idiot,” the older Lightfoot insisted.

“Yes, I am! I mean...‘S.S.’? Shape. Shifting. That is pretty obvious!”

The younger elf then continued to mutter to himself and pace faster the more he realized how his foe was able to get away with his plan. It overwhelmed him, and Barley could see that. So the older elf got up and went towards his brother.

“Hey, hey, Ian...” he said, grabbing the younger Lightfoot’s arms. “You know what I think? I think maybe you’ve had enough going for you for one day. You should rest.”

Ian stood in place, then stared at his bed. Perhaps his brother had a point. So without putting up any argument, he quietly said, “okay.”

The older Lightfoot then dragged the younger elf back over to his bed.

Even though Ian was still in his clothes, he didn’t care. Today had been a long, crazy day for him, and he needed some sleep. So the younger Lightfoot closed his eyes as Barley tucked him in under the covers, taking them all the way up to his neck.

The older elf’s head was close enough to his younger brother’s forehead that he could kiss it if he wanted. He leaned in to do just that, but then he stopped himself. He thought about it, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, Barley simply ran his hand through Ian’s hair, and stroked it a couple times. Then he stood back up and made his way to the bedroom door, while also taking his brother’s now-empty dinner tray back with him. Finally, he reached for the bedroom light and turned it off.

Now holding the doorknob, the older Lightfoot looked to his brother and said to him sweetly, “night-night, Ian.”

Although the younger elf was close to actually falling asleep, he had the energy to say back, “night, Barley.”

Smiling, Barley looked on at his brother for a moment, then he shut the door behind him, leaving the room dark.

Despite the fact that the darkness was said to be the best place for gremlins to hang out, in the comfort of his own pillow, Ian smiled, too, as he dozed off to sleep.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 19 ◊

A New Clue

Ian was given twenty-four hours to rest up and recover at home before he was eventually called down to the New Mushroomton Police Station for questioning. The young wizard had already figured the moment he was with a criminal like Gedeon that the cops would want his perspective on the whole incident sooner or later. Especially since he couldn’t help but keep blaming himself for it.

Nevertheless, the younger Lightfoot told the authorities the exact same story that he’d told his friends, Principal Pipplemell, and his family. Though unlike the following who had listened to his account of what happened, the officers did have their suspicions when Ian mentioned having the stolen S.S. Medallion in his possession—even though in all fairness, the teenage elf didn’t even know that it was a stolen jewel in the first place. When he recalled first reading the “stolen jewel” part on the wanted poster the other day, he figured the police meant a diamond or something—not a magical medallion!

Even so, Ian remembered the very poster that he had crumpled up into a ball and saved yesterday. First thing that morning, he smoothed it out, and decided to draw out a more detailed sketch of the rogue he’d faced. Then he gave a copy of it to the police for better reference, while also keeping another copy for himself and Barley. Gedeon had said that the younger elf had a gift for art while he was in disguise. So what better vengeance was there than to use that talent against the gremlin?

But in all honesty, the teenage elf thought sitting through the police interrogation wasn’t as torturous as facing Principal Pipplemell’s wrath in her office yesterday. While she had punished Ian for his actions without really getting all the facts, the police had let him go free of charge after asking several questions. They—thankfully—saw reason, and recognized that Ian was the victim of this crime—not the attacker.

But for good measure, the police had also decided to question Barley about what he knew. Not only was the S.S. Medallion once in his possession as well, but based on past experience—and being the history buff that the older elf was—the police knew that he would have knowledge on talismans that they wouldn’t necessarily have that they thought would be useful to know for this particular case.

Just as Barley waited outside the police station while his younger brother got interrogated, Ian did the same thing for his older brother. The young wizard went back and forth from just sitting on the front steps with his hands on his cheeks to pacing up and down the sidewalk in nervousness. He hoped that Barley wouldn’t get in serious trouble with the police just like the times before—especially since this time, it really wasn’t his older brother’s fault. Rather, it was he, himself, who felt truly at fault.

But soon, as Ian continued to pace, he looked up and stopped when he saw the older Lightfoot jogging down the steps.

“Well? How’d it go?” the younger elf asked as Barley came right up to him.

“It was...fine,” the older elf answered. Then he began to walk over to where Guinevere the Second was parked, with Ian following after him. “They wouldn’t stop staring me down with angry eyes for like the first half,” Barley continued as his younger brother gazed at him curiously. “But then once I got to talking about talismans and legendary relics...well...I guess you could say they became...invested.”

“Invested?” Ian inquired. “What does that mean?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but they wanted to know everything about them. And I mean, everything!” the older Lightfoot clarified with excitement. “So I told them the basics. It was like training any true apprentice in Quests of Yore!”

“Wow,” said an impressed Ian, “that’s awesome!”

“Of course, that didn’t mean they still didn’t bombard me with a bunch of questions. Some random, some valid. At least that part of Colt and the other cops hadn’t changed during their critical cross-examination. I mean, wouldn’t want to hypnotize them so that they couldn’t do their job or anything, right?”

Barley laughed at that last part and patted his younger brother on the back.

“Yeah,” Ian said with his own chuckle, but then his smile faded. “Right...”

His older brother noticed this change of mood as the two of them finally reached their van.

“Hey, is...something wrong?” Barley asked him.

The older Lightfoot was beginning to worry that while he didn’t get in trouble, his younger brother had. He had told Ian all about his questioning, but just as the older elf was called in for it, he didn’t even get the chance to hear how his brother’s interrogation panned out.

“Well...it’s just that...” Ian began as he tightly crossed his arms, then he sighed. “At the end of their cross-examination with me, they were all like, ‘leave the rest of this to the police.’” The younger elf delivered his police mockery with a deep, uptight gusto. Then waving his arms around snapping out of it, he said in an exasperated tone, “but I don’t know...I just...I don’t want to just stand here and do nothing! I want to make things right! I don’t think I can live with myself knowing that I let a powerful wizard get away with a powerful medallion that could cause who-knows-what for all of us! I’ve got to do something...I WANT to do something!”

“And we will,” Barley assured, putting a comforting hand on his brother’s back.

“But how?”

It was then that the older Lightfoot furrowed his brows in uncertainty. “I...don’t know.”

With that response, Ian rolled his eyes and groaned, then headed for the passenger side of Guinevere the Second.

“YET!” Barley tried to add, but the younger Lightfoot pretended not to hear him as he got in the van and slammed the door.

Slumping in his seat now, Ian crossed his arms again—feeling nothing but irritated despair. In a matter of seconds, the older elf got in, too, and noticed his frowning younger brother.

“Listen, I know you’re upset,” Barley said as he shut his own door. While he looked straight at Ian, the younger elf refused to make any eye contact. “I mean, I told you, this is exactly how I feel when the town doesn’t take the past seriously. And now they’re not taking you seriously. I totally get it. But don’t worry, I—er, we will think of something. I promise.”

Ian didn’t say a word in response. He just continued to sit there—with a grumpy pout on his face—refusing to take in his brother’s attempted certitude.

So the older Lightfoot decided to keep quiet with his brother as he turned the key in the van’s ignition, making Guinevere the Second whinny to life. Then he pulled his mighty steed out of the parking lot of the Police Station, and drove himself and his brother back home.

Ian remained silent for the whole ride. After recapping his injuries, mistakes, and losses to those who questioned it, he just didn’t want to talk about it at all anymore. The young wizard knew full well that action—doing something about this mess—spoke louder than words. Words that were spoken over and over again. He just wished that everyone else could understand that. He also ran it through in his head again that his magic gift equaled responsibility, which to him meant that this whole mess was his responsibility.

With all this mind, Ian knew exactly what he had to do. He figured if the police were too wrapped up with relearning the glory of the old days to find Gedeon and take the medallion back from him, that the younger Lightfoot would just have to do it himself. After all, it was precisely what the rogue wizard had done to find him. He figured doing the same thing would be the last thing the gremlin would expect! There was just one problem: Ian had absolutely no idea where to find him. Yet he did know that he had to find Gedeon and face him down once and for all, no matter what. And he wanted to do it soon, as long as he was still suspended from school and had plenty of time on his hands. What better way to spend it than to figure out where his enemy went?

He remembered Gedeon saying something about coming from a distant land. But Ian knew “a distant land” could mean anything. Worse yet, since his adversary wasn’t in disguise at the time, what if he was lying? What if he was still in New Mushroomton? Ready to strike at any moment?

As the younger elf asked more “what if” questions and tried to focus more on what he remembered the gremlin telling him, he also realized that he was letting past events repeat in his head that led to his distress to begin with, which wasn’t making him feel any better. It got him to conclude that perhaps Barley and the police were right—for the moment. He needed to relax for a bit and forget about his adversary, at least until he was ready.

◊ ◊ ◊

Relaxing during a school suspension was a lot harder than Ian thought it would be. He wasn’t really one to brag, but he liked school and always considered himself to be a smart, honor scroll student who never got into trouble. But now here he was—isolated, in trouble, and nowhere near school. The younger Lightfoot just wished he could let his guard down. But how could he when having possibly put the fate of the entire realm at risk? No matter how hard Ian tried to focus on something else, it was all he could think about.

The young wizard really felt it in himself that he couldn’t rest until Gedeon did what was right and surrendered the S.S. Medallion. His thoughts on this made him wake up in the middle of the night last night, and was even making it hard for him to fall asleep tonight as well.

Ian tossed and turned in his bed, hoping that rolling from one side to the other would help shake up his mind. But the younger Lightfoot knew it just wasn’t working as he only felt more awake than before. He then decided to reach for his phone on the bedside table.

Opening it, it read 1:42 a.m. on its intensely bright screen. Ian moaned at this and turned off his phone—he just needed to go to sleep now. So the teenage elf turned over to the other side again and closed his eyes.

Before he knew it, he could no longer feel himself. He was finally asleep. But entering the dream world didn’t feel any better than being awake.

Poor, poor, Ian...so scared and defenseless with just his wizard staff!

You really aren’t any match for me!

...you gave me my medallion back...

...I didn’t cheat!

The magic seemed to agree with me...

What’s the matter, Ian? Can’t work your magic?

It’s like you’re not even trying!

You’re no wizard!

All these horrible memories and more were coming back to Ian, when suddenly, his pointed elf ears heard his phone vibrating loudly. He slowly opened his eyes, turned over, and reached for it again.

Squinting at the bright light, he saw Sadalia’s name on the screen. She wanted to face-chat with him. The younger Lightfoot really wasn’t sure why she wanted to talk to him this early in the morning. But he thought if she was calling now that it had to be important. So Ian answered her, and when he did, he saw his journalist friend—bright-eyed and alert.

“Hello...?” the elf wizard said groggily.

“Ian, hey! I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up,” Sadalia said cheerfully. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Happy to Sal, but...it’s three in the morning. Why are you up so early?”

“You mean up so late!” she corrected. “But anyway, I wanted to call you right away because I think I’ve found a clue as to where Gedeon might be!”

Ian’s eyes immediately widened as far as they could go. “WHAT?! Really?! Wha-why didn’t you say so?!” He was now almost screaming as he jerked himself right out of bed.

“Uh...I just did!” Sadalia said, her voice at normal volume.

The younger Lightfoot then cleared his throat and calmed himself as he realized at that moment that he didn’t want to wake his family with his sudden outburst. Even still, he was excitedly shaking from this news and began to pace around his room.

“Sorry. Sooner...” Ian clarified in a now much quieter voice. “Sooner, I mean. Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

“’Cause we were talking about the time...?”

“Right, right...so...so, uh...wh-what’s your scoop?”

On the other line, Sadalia reached for something that was on her left and showed it up to her phone screen for Ian to see. Whatever it was, this object was almost the same tone of red as Gedeon’s robe, but it also had a strange white symbol on it.

“See this?” the elf journalist asked.

“Uh...yeah, what is it?” the elf wizard wondered.

“This is what Gedeon used to gag Ms. Traven,” Sadalia explained.

“Whoa, really? That’s incredible! I-I mean, not incredible ’cause y-you know...b-b-but how did you get it?”

“Well, actually...I’ve had it this whole time. Ever since Althea and I found her tied up under the stage. But with all the craziness that’s been going on, I forgot that I’d kept it in my jacket pocket. I guess I must’ve put it in there while we were untying her.”

“A-and-and you said that this-this might be a clue to where Gedeon might be? Where is he?”

Ian’s heart was pounding rapidly. Just when he was beginning to think that all hope was lost, he was thrilled—but also scared—that his friend had now entered in with a new lead!

“I mean...I don’t know for sure where he is,” Sadalia admitted, “but see this symbol in the center with the spark inside this gear?”

“Yeah, I-I was-I was just wondering about that...”

“Every city in the realm has a symbol to represent them. Like, we obviously have mushrooms to represent New Mushroomton.”

“Right.”

“And they tend to be everywhere from flags to t-shirts to even bandanas like this one. So I’ve been doing some research, and I’m pretty sure that this symbol here is based in a city! But I haven’t been able to find which city it comes from...I feel like I’ve looked everywhere. I just know it has to be around here somewhere...I’m certainly certain of it.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” Ian said with a smile. “Sadalia, if there’s anyone I can trust with finding clues about something, it’s you!” But suddenly, his excitement began to fade as he then added, “but wait...”

“What?”

The younger Lightfoot chuckled with embarrassment before saying, “this is gonna sound so silly...but, um...how do I know if you’re really Sadalia Brushthorn? How do I know you’re not actually Gedeon wearing the S.S. Medallion, and you’re trying to lead me into another trap?”

Going along with her friend’s accusation, Sadalia calmly said, “if I were Gedeon, wouldn’t I not tell you where I lived?”

“I don’t know...” Ian said with a suspicious eye. “You don’t need to tell the truth if you’re wearing the S.S. Medallion...”

“Well, I’m not wearing the medallion,” the elf reporter confirmed as she showed off her neck up close to Ian’s phone screen. “And if I did know, I would tell you. You’re one of my best friends, Ian. Ever since you’ve been attacked, I’ve been trying to find all sorts of ways to help. That’s why I’ve been staying up this late.”

“Yeah...you and me both,” Ian said glumly, then he began to feel guilty about his confrontation. “S-sorry...for-for being so paranoid...I just—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Sadalia assured him. “I can’t blame you. You’ve been through a hard time and just want to keep yourself protected. I’d probably do the same.”

“Thanks.”

“And as an added bonus, I’ll come over to your house later, and give you this bandana. That way, you can have it in person. I’m, uh...guessing you’re gonna want to try and find Gedeon now.”

Ian took a small gulp. “Yeah, that...th-that’s what I’m thinking,” he disclosed, but then his face brightened again. “But this really is amazing, Sadalia! I-I don’t know how to thank you!”

“Of course! A little investigating never hurts...and I’m sure Barley’s going to be happy about this, too! Being the Quest Guy and everything...”

The elf wizard’s smile faded again. “Oh...y-yeah, a-absolutely. I just...I don’t want to wake him up yet.”

This put a puzzled look on Sadalia’s face. “Why not? Isn’t he kind of the...all-nighter type?”

“No, n-not tonight, it’s not the all-nighter night for him...there are times where he just...really likes his sleep.”

“Okay...so how do I know you’re not Gedeon, and you’ve got Ian held captive somewhere?”

Ian thought about it, then holding out his own neck, he said, “well...as you can see, no S.S. Medallion. Just my wizard staff. But if that’s not enough for you...hmm...uh...oh! Remember last week when we were all kicking that soccer ball around, and then Gurge hurled it at me, and I caught it with my Levitation Spell? Man, I really thought my head was done for...”

“Oh, yeah, that was awesome! And then you said you thought ‘your head was done for,’ like, three times after that. Well...four now.”

“So, there you go,” Ian said, then he yawned, feeling tired. That’s when both he and Sadalia agreed that it was time for them both to go back to sleep. So they hung up, and the young wizard climbed back under the covers of his bed.

After a whole night of tossing and turning, Ian looked up at his bedroom ceiling for a moment and didn’t feel any of the same old worrying thoughts consuming him anymore. Instead, he felt pretty content for the most part, having been shown something that could possibly locate his foe. But still, the idea of facing Gedeon again began to sink into his mind. With this new opportunity in front of him, the teenage elf soon peacefully drifted back to sleep.

◊ ◊ ◊

“Well, look who’s smiling now,” Barley noticed with joy as Ian finally came downstairs and walked into the kitchen with a smirk on his face.

It was now late in the morning—almost eleven—but the younger elf didn’t care. He was just happy to have gotten that call from Sadalia early this morning about that clue. Now all he needed was for her to deliver the bandana to him, which he figured she could do any minute now.

Having that be the only thing circling his mind, the younger Lightfoot didn’t really notice his brother at first, until the older elf asked him, “so, what turned your frown upside down all of a sudden, Sir Iandore?”

At that moment, Ian froze, then became tongue-tied. “Well, I-I-I don’t know. It’s-it’s a-it’s a brand new day. The-the sun is shining. I-I don’t have to go to school. I got to sleep in...it’s-it’s all good.”

But Barley wasn’t buying it. “Okay, what are you hiding, Ian?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“What? Me? Nothing! What would I be hiding? I-I’m not hiding anything.”

“I don’t know...seems like you are...”

“No, I’m not. I’m fine. I am perfectly fine,” Ian sugarcoated with a grin. “In fact, I am so fine that I’m gonna to go outside and take in the nice, fresh air.”

The younger elf was intent on waiting for Sadalia at the front door. But as he tried to turn away and leave the kitchen, Barley stopped him.

“Hold on a minute,” the older Lightfoot said, putting a hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“Ow! Careful, man, that’s my bad shoulder!”

“Sorry!”

Ian was now using his opposite hand to comfort his shoulder as he looked at his brother with a face that instantly became irked.

“Look, you don’t have to pretend happiness for me, Ian,” Barley said. “I mean, I know I’m a generally happy guy, but personally, in a situation like this, I think it’s best to just let it all out.”

“But I am happy, Barley!” Ian insisted as he headed over to the refrigerator.

“Sure doesn’t look like it...”

“Would you stop?! I’m not upset!”

“Then why are you raising your voice?!” Barley yelled back mockingly.

“Because you’re the one that’s—” Ian began to shout as he slammed the refrigerator door and held a carton of milk. But at that moment, both brothers heard the doorbell. “I’ll get that!”

And just like that, the younger Lightfoot handed the milk to Barley, then raced towards the front door—leaving the older elf alone in the kitchen, confused.

As soon as Ian got to the front door, he opened it wide—expecting Sadalia to be on the other side. But to his dismay, he had instead opened the door to his next door neighbor, Mrs. Grud.

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Grud,” Ian said, disappointed. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing, really,” the elderly satyr answered. “I’ve just come by to tell you that your dragon has been out here roasting and chewing on my flowers again.”

Ian poked his head out the door to look at his neighbor’s flowers. She was right. Some of them did look pretty cooked and eaten.

“Oof, I’m, uh...I’m so sorry about that, Mrs. Grud,” the teenage elf said apologetically. “Blazey really likes to eat anything, she can’t help it, but—”

“And one other thing since you’re here,” Mrs. Grud interjected. “I heard you’ve been suspended from school for the week.”

What?! How did she hear about that?! Ian thought in an agitated, but also angry panic.

“Oh, uh...y-yeah, uh...that...” he said aloud nervously. “But only since yesterday though, and-and just for this one more day. I’ll be...I’ll be going back on Monday...”

It was at that moment Ian realized why Sadalia couldn’t possibly be at the door right now. He may not have had to go to school, but she still did—which meant that she probably wasn’t going to bring the bandana to him until this afternoon. But now he had to deal with his prying neighbor.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I was sorry to hear that, and that I hope you get your act together again soon,” Mrs. Grud said. “Because word on the street is that people are starting to get scared about magic again because of what you did.”

“What? No! I-I mean...I-I didn’t mean to—I mean, I don’t want to frighten people! Magic isn’t anything to be scared of!”

“Well, surely, I’d love to believe that.”

“I would...prefer if you did.”

There was a pause, then putting on her sunhat, Mrs. Grud said, “very well, I’ll put your word in for the rest of the neighborhood, and see what they say. Have a nice day, Ian.”

And with that, she began to walk away.

“No—but—you see—you can’t do that—I—” Ian stammered.

But his busybody neighbor was already back in her yard. “What?! Can’t hear you from here!” Mrs. Grud called, then she entered her house and closed the door.

“Aw, forget it...” Ian relented quietly in humiliation, then he too went back inside and shut his own door.

“Not who you were expecting, huh?”

To Ian’s surprise, Barley was now standing in the living room—most likely having heard the whole thing.

“Nope,” the younger elf said blankly.

Then there was an awkward silence as the two brothers were now both remembering their intense conversation from a few minutes ago.

Letting out a sigh, Ian finally said, “Barley...look, a-about what I was trying to say before...that...that was stupid. Sorry. I-I mean, maybe it is possible that I’m still a little on edge...”

“It’s okay, little bro,” the older elf said as he went over to pat his younger brother’s good shoulder.

Ian smiled as Barley once again forgave him.

But then the older Lightfoot’s eyes widened. “Oh, hey, actually...I’m just remembering...” he began to say as he let go of Ian and reached for something in his vest pocket. Then he took out what he was looking for, and held it out for his brother to see. “Sadalia came over this morning, and she told me to give you this.”

In Barley’s hands was the red bandana that Ian was expecting just now, and the younger Lightfoot felt an immense blush go across his freckled face.

“Hey! What are you doing with that?” he said, flustered. The younger elf tried to take the bandana from his brother. But Barley, being taller than Ian, attempted to play keep away with it. “Give that to me! It’s evidence!”

“Evidence for...?” the older elf began to ask, leaving his question hanging.

Barley still wanted to know what his brother was trying to hide, and didn’t want to give the bandana to Ian until he knew exactly why the young wizard wanted it so badly. He had a pretty good idea that it had something to do with Gedeon, but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

In his own struggle to reach for the bandana on his tippy toes, Ian didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that he didn’t really want his brother to find it, and wished that Sadalia had just delivered it to him personally.

But as Barley lifted the bandana higher into the air with his arm, with Ian now jumping for it, a joyous Laurel came down the stairs from her room with her smartphone in her hand.

“Boys! Good news!” she said. “The Manticore has just returned from her trip and is back at her tavern!”

Ian and Barley immediately went rigid from hearing this, with both of them still reaching their arms high up into the air from their keep away game—much to their mother’s confusion. But then both brothers grounded themselves, and looked at each other—with the older Lightfoot giving the younger Lightfoot a smug look.

“Looks like we’ll be taking this with us,” Barley decided as he still held the red bandana in his hand. To this, Ian grew another grumpy pout and crossed his arms.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 20 ◊

Return to the Tavern

The Manticore’s Tavern was quite busy around the hour of noon, having gathered quite a following since its much-needed refurbishment. It had gone back to representing the days of yore, while also compromising the wonder of the modern days as well.

Despite its busyness, the Manticore herself was glad to be back at her tavern serving the hungry people again after her urgent week-long meeting with the elders. But her paying customers weren’t just hungry for delicious food.

“Tell us a story, O great and mighty Manticore!” said an eager elf.

“Oh, yes, please!” a goblin concurred from the next table over. “Tell us about one of your adventures!”

The Manticore—now in her usual warrior garb—had just come out from the kitchen, and was carrying dishes of entrées in both of her paws.

“Just a second now...” she said to her customers. “These Kracken Kracklins aren’t going to serve themselves!” Once she set the food down at the correct tables, she then said to the crowd, “but a story, you say? Why, YES! I would be delighted to tell you all a new tale!”

Every patron in the restaurant murmured in anticipation for what the Manticore had in store. Whatever tale she was about to tell, it was sure to put them all on the edge of their seats.

“Oh, but there are just so many of them...which one do I choose?” the beast thought aloud as she began to pace around, then she did the rest of her thinking under her breath. “Let’s see...there was that time I vanquished the hydra with a single punch...nah, I’ve told that story a lot. There was also the time I conquered the Chamber of Doom...or-or what about when I first met my wondrous Curse Crusher? Hmm...well...whichever story I tell, it’ll certainly take my mind off from—”

Just then, the Manticore heard the giant entrance doors of her tavern push open behind her, and turned right around to see that Laurel’s sons had arrived.

“Oh! Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers! The Lightfoot brothers! Just the inspiration I need!” the beast said happily in surprise. She used her giant bat-like wings to leap herself right over to the teenage elves.

But the Manticore announcing their entry to everyone in her tavern only made Ian cringe. He still didn’t really like having any attention brought onto him.

Barley, on the other hand, gladly removed his beanie, and got down on one knee before the mighty beast.

“’Tis an honor to be here, O Miss great and powerful Manticore,” he said.

As the older elf did this, Ian nudged him with an elbow, and whispered through gritted teeth, “Barley, you know you don’t have to bow down to Corey anymore. We’re pals.”

Everytime Barley entered the tavern and feasted his eyes on the Manticore—also known as Corey—the first thing he always wanted to do was go right up, and kneel before her excellence. He didn’t feel the least bit granted to be in her presence—or in her tavern—unless he did that first.

“Oh, it’s all right, Ian,” Corey said in response to Barley’s kneel. “It’s actually quite flattering!”

“See? She likes it!” Barley boasted to the eye-rolling Ian as he placed his beanie back on his head, and stood up again. He then asked the beast, “so, how was your equally great and powerful summit to which my dear brother and I were sadly not invited to, your fearlessness?”

Just as Ian had cringed merely moments ago, the Manticore unexpectedly grew an uncomfortable expression of her own.

Reading her look, Ian asked, “did it not go well?”

“Ah, pfft!” the Manticore rebuffed. Then placing her giant lion paws around the shoulders of both teenage elves, she said, “it was-it was nothing too important. Nothing for you both to concern yourselves with...”

The two brothers gazed at each other, baffled.

Noticing this, Corey sighed and said, “it was a very long meeting. I just couldn’t wait to come back here, and be at my glorious, new and improved tavern again! It may still have that family-friendly touch, but I am positive that it now has the edge it’s been missing for all these years.”

The heroic beast had the two Lightfoots turn to face the joys of her restaurant. She was right. Taking the time to look around, both Ian and Barley could see that despite coming back time and time again since their last quest, it was hardly the same tavern that they’d first set their feet into just six months ago. From the stone walls to the darker interior furniture, the restaurant had unlocked its full potential for the modern times.

“Yeah, it’s-it’s amazing,” Ian said.

“I know! Isn’t it?” the Manticore gushed, then she cleared her throat. “So anyways, may I have my noble staff offer you gents a table?”

“That sounds great!” said a content Barley. “Griffin wings on us!”

But a stunned Ian didn’t believe that he and his brother had come to the tavern to eat.

Putting his hand in front of Barley, who was just about to follow Corey over to the hostess, the younger Lightfoot said, “well, actually, Miss Manticore, we didn’t exactly come here for food.”

“Well, then, what brings you both to my tavern?” she asked curiously.

“We’re going on ANOTHER quest!” Barley proclaimed with excitement.

“And we could really use your help,” Ian added.

“Oh, and how may I help you boys with this new quest?” the Manticore inquired, her interest piquing even further.

Barley cleared his throat, then proceeded to explain in his medieval tenor, “we cameth upon this talisman in the weekend prior that bestows the user the means to shapeshift into any creature...but alas, by cursed fortune, it was—”

“The S.S. Medallion?” Corey asked, now squinting her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s—” Ian began to say, but then he found himself slightly caught off guard that the tavern manager knew exactly what he and his brother were talking about. But then he remembered that the Manticore was precisely who they wanted to ask about the medallion in the first place. “That-that’s right. But it was stolen by this mad gremlin wizard named Gedeon the Grotesque, and we don’t know where to find him.” Then the younger elf reached into the pocket of his jeans, and took out the bandana that Sadalia gave him and Barley. “Our only clue...is this,” he finished as he gave it to the Manticore.

“I see...” Corey said. She put on her reading glasses and held the bandana up to eye level.

“So...Gedeon...do you know him?” Barley asked her.

The Manticore thought about it hard for a second, but something in her face told the brothers that the name did not ring a bell. “I’m afraid not,” she finally said. “I’ve never heard of any wizard named Gedeon...”

Though dismayed by this fact, Ian did not hesitate to add, “yet...”

The beast looked up from her inspection of the bandana having heard what the younger Lightfoot said. “Pardon?” she questioned.

“Well...see, the thing is, Miss Manticore...the S.S. Medallion falling into Gedeon’s hands...it was my fault, and if I don’t stop him...and get this medallion back from him, he could take over the whole realm! A-and make sure that everyone does what he says! That medallion doesn’t force you to tell the truth like the Disguise Spell. He can take advantage of others by pretending to be whoever he wants! I just...I can’t let that happen. I need to find him and put an end to his schemes before it’s too late. But I can’t do that without your knowledge.”

The Manticore thought about Ian’s words for a moment, now staring back at the red bandana in her paw.

As Barley put a comforting arm around his younger brother, the elf wizard began to plead to the beast. “Please, you must know something about where he’s gone...or-or where the S.S. Medallion came from, then I might have a chance!”

Soon a smile crept on the Manticore’s face as a grand idea surfaced in her head. She then turned to her already-seated customers and declared, “good news, everyone! I have a great tale for you all this afternoon!”

While the patrons of the restaurant raised their goblets and cheered at this, letting out huzzahs and hurrahs alike, Ian only became more agitated. “Wha-what...WAIT! But-but what about—”

“All part of the plan!” Corey said as she began to head for the kitchen.

But the younger elf was intent on following her. “What plan?!” he asked desperately.

“Have you seen how busy my tavern is? I can’t stop and divulge extremely crucial information without keeping my customers entertained!” As half of the Manticore was now already through the kitchen doors, she then told the enthusiastic crowd, “stick around, folks, I’ll be right back with a gripping story momentarily! This great teller of tales needs to warm up! In the meantime, uh...” She quickly looked around the horizon of her tavern, then pointed. “Sundra! Could you give the two Lightfoots a table?”

“Why, of course, m’lady!” Sundra called to her as she grabbed two menus from under the host counter. Corey was already gone by the time the cyclops began to lead the brothers to a table.

“Would you be so kind as to give us a booth?” Barley asked her excitedly, all while Ian continued to stammer in disbelief behind him. The young wizard just couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Anything for the two heroes of New Mushroomton,” Sundra said with a grin.

“No, no, no, no, no, wait! Barley! Not you, too!” the younger Lightfoot cried. “We don’t have time for this!”

But the brothers got to their open table in no time. As the hostess placed the menus down, she said to them, “your table, good sirs.”

“Thank you, madam,” Barley said to her with a smile.

“But—” Ian tried to say. Only he was now too late as Sundra then walked away to tend to another party of guests that had just entered the tavern.

Feeling dismissed, the younger elf sighed in defeat. Then he begrudgingly went over and sat across from Barley, who was already seated and looking at his menu.

“I don’t like this,” Ian said to his older brother.

“Relax, Sir Iandore. This is fine!” Barley assured nonchalantly.

“Fine?! How is any of this fine?”

“Says the Lightfoot who said he was ‘fine’ this morning.”

“Very funny...”

“It will be, Ian. Besides, can’t venture off on a quest without some food in my gut. I’m starving! And now that I think about it...perhaps I don’t want the griffin wings...but the boar steak! Now that sounds appetizing!”

Ian was not as interested in food as Barley was as the older elf’s eyes were now completely glued to the menu. Instead, the younger Lightfoot looked to the side and decided to scan around the tavern. But all he really noticed was that the Manticore hadn’t yet come back out from the kitchen.

After a few more moments of staring out and thinking, Ian then leaned in towards his brother, and whispered to him, “don’t you think Corey was acting a little strange? Like she was trying to hide something from us?”

This made Barley look up from his menu and at the younger elf, as he then remembered the conversation they had in their kitchen earlier today. “Don’t you think you’re being just a little paranoid?”

“I know that I am, but, like, she just...didn’t seem to really wanna talk to us about this meeting she went to, and, well...it’s giving me a bad feeling or something...I don’t know...”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Barley advised. “What’s important now is getting the information we seek about the S.S. Medallion, where Gedeon could be hiding, and go off on this quest. It’s that simple.”

Simple, huh? I highly doubt that, Ian thought as his older brother then looked back at his menu and muttered, “Man, I’m so hungry...”

“Barley, you’re always hungry...” the younger Lightfoot said aloud.

“I know...but I have no regrets,” the older elf said to his brother with an endearing smile.

Ian really didn’t get why his brother only cared about eating at a time like this. But if that was what Barley truly wanted, then all the younger elf could do now was look at his own menu, and pick something to satisfy his own appetite. But as Ian began to look at the choices, he soon sensed a figure approaching his and Barley’s table.

“Ahem, excuse me?” a gruff voice said.

Both brothers looked up to find a young adult cyclops now standing at the end of their table. He didn’t seem to be a waiter because he wasn’t dressed like any of the other waiters in the tavern. But he did have a noticeable scar that went across his one eye, and wore a sleeveless leather vest with spikes sticking out. To Ian, he appeared to be the sketchy, foreboding type—almost like the Pixie Dusters.

“Uh...can we, uh...help you?” the younger Lightfoot asked nervously.

“Yes...you can,” the stern-looking cyclops said.

“Well, what can we do for ya?” Barley asked, acting more chill about this than his brother.

The twenty-something cyclops then leaned in and looked Ian right in the eye, which made the younger elf slant back in intimidation.

“Are you Ian Lightfoot?” the cyclops asked.

Ian’s heart beat faster. He couldn’t help but feel as frightened as he was two days ago when he stood face to face with Gedeon after the rogue wizard had revealed his true nature. He felt as though this cyclops was staring right at him in almost the exact same way and had him cornered in his booth seat with no way out.

“Uh...” the younger Lightfoot let out with a tremble. He darted his eyes at Barley, who was looking at him with an almost straight face, then he gulped and said, “yeah...” Afterwards, he used his thumb to point to his brother. “A-and th-that’s Barley.”

The older elf did a simple wave as he was introduced.

“Thought so,” the cyclops said, satisfied.

“Wh-wh-what do you want?” Ian asked him.

“Well...I was hoping...” the young man began to say as he reached for something in his back pocket.

Sensing a threat, Ian frowned and used his hand to reach for his wizard staff necklace, readying himself to face what he figured was another confrontation. But instead what the cyclops pulled out was a smartphone.

“Could I get a picture with you guys?” he asked, now smiling wholeheartedly.

The young wizard widened his eyes in surprise as his fingers finally touched the staff. That wasn’t quite the favor he was expecting. Regardless, Ian now realized that he could put his hand—and his guard—down. Then he looked at Barley with an expression that asked, what do you think?

Barley simply nodded, then turned to the cyclops, and said to him with a friendly smile, “sure, we’d be happy to.”

“Wow, thanks!” the cyclops said, feeling almost exuberant. “Oh, and I’m Saxon, by the way.”

As both Ian and Barley moved out of their seats to do one of their fans a service, Saxon extended his hand out to the elf wizard, hoping that Ian would take it. Thankfully, despite being dubious of this man’s intentions, the younger elf obliged.

“Nice to meet you, Saxon,” he said with a brightened face.

“You too,” the cyclops said, then he gazed at Ian’s green flannel shirt. “Gotta say, that’s a smart way to carry around your wizard staff.”

Ian was confused for a second, but when he followed the cyclops’ eye and looked down, the younger Lightfoot silently gasped. His necklace was now less hidden than it was usually.

“Oh, uh...y-yeah...it, uh, it sure is...thanks,” he said with an awkward chuckle as he swiftly put it back under his shirt.

Then turning to Barley for his handshake, Saxon said, “and Barley! So nice to meet you, too!”

“The pleasure is all ours,” said the older Lightfoot.

“I mean, you’re both so cool! Like, Ian, your magic is so awesome! And Barley, you’re just so brave and passionate!”

“Why, thank you, Saxon,” said an esteemed Barley, then he walked over and playfully punched his brother in the arm. “But our wizard here is quite brave and passionate, too.”

“You sure are!” Saxon agreed. “Your magic saved the city! I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”

“Gee, uh, thanks,” Ian said with another nervous laugh.

While the young wizard appreciated the compliments he was receiving from both his brother and their fan, he still couldn’t help but feel very uncomfortable at the same time.

Soon Saxon got the two Lightfoot brothers on either side of him, and held his phone out horizontally to fit all three of them for a selfie.

“Say ‘magic’!” the cyclops said, staring at the screen.

“MAGIC!” they all said in unison.

And with that, the three of them took a couple of selfies together.

“I really appreciate this, guys,” Saxon finally said after the last picture.

“Hey, no problem,” said a relaxed Barley.

“Take care!” Ian said as the still grinning cyclops headed back to his table. Then the younger elf and his brother sat back down at their own booth, and resumed browsing their choices of food.

As Ian looked at his own menu again—with a hand placed on his cheek—he sighed heavily.

“What’s wrong now?” Barley asked him.

“Nothing...” Ian said. “Let’s just get this over with...”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 21 ◊

Magic and Inventions

Almost a half hour later, Ian and Barley had their lunch delivered to their table, and the two began to eat. Even though the younger Lightfoot thought his older brother was being narrow-minded when it came to sustenance, once he began to dig in, Ian started to feel a little better. He got to thinking that perhaps food was what they needed to rightfully resume their quest for the S.S. Medallion. They were going to require all the energy they could once they found out where Gedeon was supposedly hiding.

After the brothers got halfway through their meal, the kitchen doors burst open as the Manticore finally returned from there. Only this time, she had her prized Curse Crusher at her side.

“Do you think we’re going to need that?” Ian whispered to his brother as he took notice of the mighty beast’s one-of-a-kind sword.

“Well...we’re about to find out...” Barley whispered back.

Corey, in her glorious battle armor, made her way to the center of the tavern for all to see her majesty and to take heed of the story she was about to unfold. She then placed a paw over her forehead and scanned the entire room, as if she were looking for trespassers that weren’t welcome.

Finally, she cleared her throat, and asked aloud for all to hear, “okay...unless I’m mistaken, there are no gremlins in this tavern, right?”

This seemingly arbitrary question caused the crowd to look around and check the tavern themselves. There didn’t seem to be any sign of gremlins—or a gremlin pretending to be someone else for that matter.

As the Manticore heard several people murmuring “no” and “I don’t think so,” she nodded. Then she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, and breathed some fire in the air to get everyone’s attention again.

It worked as all of the patrons and staff in the restaurant flinched in fear at the sound of her roaring flames. Before the beast knew it, everyone was staring right at her.

“In that case,” Corey continued, “it is high time that I shall tell you all the tale of the mysterious talisman known as...the S.S. Medallion.”

The crowd murmured again. With the exception of the Manticore, Ian, and Barley, they didn’t even know what this talisman was or what gremlins had to do with it. But thankfully, Corey was about to explain.

“As I’m sure you’ve all heard by now,” she began, “a criminal known as Gedeon the Grotesque, who just so happens to be...a gremlin, has recently stolen the talisman I have just named from our celebrated heroes, Ian and Barley Lightfoot...”

As the beast pointed out the two teenage elf brothers, the crowd then stared at them and continued their murmuring. While Ian slowly sank into his seat in embarrassment from being put on the spot, Barley sat up straight, put on a grin, and waved.

“NOW...while I don’t know who this gremlin is...or what he intends to do with the S.S. Medallion he has just snatched,” Corey continued, “what I can tell you is what I do know...”

While he was sure he was almost completely sunk in now from the shame of his mistake, Ian perked up at the sound of that. For a second there, he thought that this whole mess he’d gotten himself into was starting to become a major lost cause. But the young wizard could see now that he was about to get exactly what he wanted to know all this time since discovering the medallion. Ian could no longer eat his lunch. He sat right back up with the utmost interest, took out his notebook, and began to take notes.

“Gremlins...” the Manticore resumed. “What are they, you ask?”

Then without warning, she drew her Curse Crusher out into the open and began to brandish it around in a multitude of directions.

“They are mischievous! They are tricky! You might even say they are...unpredictable! But most of all, they love to have fun—in their own special way. A way that purposefully makes people annoyed, frustrated, worried! In other words, they’re just the typical vexing type...a freak of nature as you might call them! They’re like uncontrollable children, really. Children that love to spend their time in the dark underground—eating, partying, pulling pranks on one another and especially on other species like us...but their best, most treasured interest is enacting malfunctions on what they believe to be revolting machinery.”

The thought of enacting malfunctions put a reflective, smug look on Barley’s face. “HA! I wrecked a bulldozer once just to prevent construction workers from doing their job,” he said proudly, then he chuckled. “So if anybody knows what it’s like to tamper with revolting machinery, it’s me.”

“WE KNOW,” Ian and the other customers said in unison.

The whole tavern already knew of the older elf’s fountain saving story at this point, but that didn’t excuse Barley from telling it over and over again on occasion. To him, it was just one of his most satisfying moments.

But putting on an affronted face and crossing his arms, the older Lightfoot said with an attitude, “well!”

Just then, a tiny sprite with a bow on her head flew up to the Manticore, and asked her in curiosity, “so...why do gremlins like to mess with machines?”

“Yeah, I mean, there has to be some other motive that they have than just doing it for no reason,” Ian concurred. He remembered reading about that part on the gremlins page in the Quests of Yore guidebook with Barley. But even that didn’t give a logical explanation for it.

“Well, some say that the gremlins prefer to use old airplane parts to build homes for themselves,” Corey explained, then the beast flapped her ginormous bat wings, lifted herself in the air, and began to fly around her tavern—with some of the other sprites joining her as well. “In their nature, they find the structure of a plane to be quite comfortable.”

“A plane? But...why can’t they just live in a mushroom like Barley and I do? Or an apartment? Surely they know the world has advanced if they have the advantage to disrupt machinery.”

The Manticore landed back on the ground before answering the younger Lightfoot’s question, then she walked right up to him.

“Well...way back in the old days, gremlins used to live in the swamps and the forests before...you know, the simpler times. Legend says that once airports got built—or should I say, when airports got built on their land—they wanted nothing but vengeance, and sought to try and destroy the grounds of airplanes just like grounds of the airplanes had destroyed their territory. And these days...hiding under car engines, cutting red wires, and lurking around in abandoned hangars that once housed some of the greatest aircrafts...revenge is in their thirst as much as their trickery.”

Revenge? Could that be what Gedeon really wants? Ian thought.

It seemed to make sense to him, especially if the gremlin wizard did send a clone to mess with Guinevere so that Barley wouldn’t get in the way. But deep down, the younger elf still couldn’t grasp the whole airplane destruction thing. From what he was able to get out of Gedeon in their duel, it appeared that the rogue wizard wanted nothing to do with taking down airports. He wanted the medallion and it had the power to make the user shapeshift into anyone. It was that power alone that he craved for what he claimed would give him more power. So where was the revenge in that?

“The good news is that the gremlins are more likely to target the careless than the not careless,” Corey said. “So if you pay close attention to your surroundings—and your tech and machinery—odds are, they won’t get to you.”

“Better tell that to the careless doubters who thought the Fountain of Fortune wasn’t worth it,” Barley suggested, then he chuckled. “They don’t believe me that it’s special for a second, then the next minute, a Guardian Curse blows, and we’re all doomed! But thank Zadar we all know how that story ends.” He looked to his brother, and playfully punched the younger Lightfoot’s arm from the other side of the table. “Man, I am just relating to this story so much, little bro. Seriously, the Manticore is on fire!”

Ian didn’t look at his brother. Instead, his mind began to race with even more thoughts. Sighing, he felt downtrodden again—for the rightful reasons.

“But Barley...that’s exactly what happened, I...I was careless...it-it’s how a clone was able to get to Guinevere the Second, and it’s how I let Gedeon take the S.S. Medallion,” the younger elf admitted ashamedly, tugging at his jeans. Then he gazed up at the Manticore. “But I swear, I’m not going to let that happen again.”

The beast smiled at Ian’s reborn determination. Without even guessing it, she could tell that he was ready to hear more.

“Now that’s the young sorcerer I know and love,” Barley said, praising his brother, then he too faced the Manticore. “So now that we’ve got our background on gremlins, what do you know about the S.S. Medallion, your mightiness?”

“Right, I was just about to get to that part,” she said with a grin.

Ian cracked his own smile and leaned in with anticipation. While he already knew now what the medallion’s purpose was, he was all ears to finally learn how the magic artifact itself came to be. So the young wizard gripped his pen in his hand and held his notebook at the ready, eager to hear more. Meanwhile, Barley smiled, too, knowing that what he and his brother had waited for all week was now about to pay off.

“There is a lot to know about gremlins, but I believe I covered the basics,” Corey analyzed as she walked away from the brothers and faced the rest of her tavern. “But what have they got to do with the S.S. Medallion, you ask? Why, that’s a gripping tale, my young friends...for it was the gremlins that created it.”

The customers in the restaurant gasped in shock, as did the younger Lightfoot.

“Th-th-they did?” he cried. “But-but how? I don’t under-I thought maybe it was—”

“I’m afraid it’s true, Ian,” the beast confessed, not expecting this revelation to be that much of a surprise to the younger elf. “Gremlins were the ones that crafted the S.S. Medallion. Do you...want me to continue?”

Taking a breath and immediately calming himself down, Ian nodded and went, “mhm.”

“Alrighty then...” the Manticore nodded herself, then she began to pace around her tavern. “It was a long, long time ago, but not too long ago at the same time...it was around the time when people all over the realm began to consider going down the simpler path, believing that magic had become too mundane, too limited, too strenuous to use...

“Creatures from the brilliant-minded elves to the skillfully clever goblins, and especially the techno-driven gremlins began to invent all sorts of new ways to make life worthwhile that didn’t require magic. Televisions were made for stay-at-home entertainment, microwaves and ovens were made for cooking, and the famous lightbulb was made for everlasting light. Magic was still prevalent, of course, but its popularity began to dwindle, and no one seemed to take any interest in it anymore.”

Ian, Barley, and the other patrons in the tavern who were listening had heard this story several times before. Magic had once played a huge part in everyone’s lives before the realm decided it was too hard to master.

“BUT!” the beast continued after taking a breath. “Believe it or not, there were actually those who didn’t want to completely toss away magic in favor of effortless, new ways. And among them were a group of playful gremlin wizards named Quain, Brazen, and Huxley.”

“Did they...d-did they create the S.S. Medallion?” Ian asked in eye-widened wonder.

“They sure did!” the Manticore said happily.

“All right!” Barley shouted in excitement. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”

“The three of them were the best of friends,” Corey explained. “They did everything together from teaching each other the different spells to coming up with new ways to use their magic for their own enjoyment. While they definitely caused more trouble than good to those around them—I mean, remember, they were gremlins—magic had brought the three of them closer together. They didn’t want it to become obsolete. Deep down, they knew magic brought happiness and wonder to the realm for reasons like theirs and others. And so, they decided to try and prove to their village that magic was not worth throwing away before it was too late.”

“Wow...” Barley said in awe. “I mean, that-that’s amazing. I didn’t think people like that were...were actually there...in the old days. I thought maybe, I don’t know...I...was the only one who really cared about magic’s existence.”

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short, Barley,” Ian defended. “You may not see it at face value, but I’m sure there are lots of people out there that care about magic as much as you do.”

“You’re right,” the older elf said, feeling assured. “I mean, not just me. You care, too...right?”

“Uh...y-yeah, of-of course.” Ian answered with a nod. Though to Barley, his brother seemed unsure. But the younger elf didn’t want to keep interrupting Corey’s tale. Turning back to the beast, he asked, “so, was that why the gremlins invented the S.S. Medallion? To try and make magic useful again?”

“That’s right,” the Manticore confirmed. “And its origins began with the three friends starting small. They continued to do what they always did, but it didn’t really go anywhere. In fact, it seemed like playing trouble—even cleverly—only turned more individuals away from magic. With each passing day, more and more wizards gave up their staffs to embrace the new, which convinced the three gremlins that they really needed to act—and fast.

“Eventually, Brazen—the most observant of the group—could see that the people in their village were eager to invent new things that had never been imagined before, and choosing to leave magic completely out of the picture. But that’s when it hit him! He realized that he and his friends needed to get the people to love magic again in a way that wasn’t their utmost hobby—not by causing trouble and mischief. Instead, he deduced that they needed to turn to their other newly-bred talent—which was mechanical intelligence—to help make magic useful again.

“So rather than trying to keep customs exactly the same as they once were, Brazen suggested that he and his friends needed to coincide magic with the rising technology, figuring that if magic could somehow seep into a new invention, everyone would come to appreciate it again. Both Quain and Huxley thought it was a marvelous idea, and the three of them got to work on inventing something new right away.”

Putting ancient magic and modern inventions together under cohesive circumstances? To both the Lightfoot brothers and the other customers, these three gremlins were clearly ahead of their time.

“Now, I know what you’re all thinking...” the Manticore continued as she used her eyes to scan the entire room once more. “What could this group of gremlins have invented to try and serve the realm for the better? And what could they have invented that would help advance the newer times?”

“Well, we already know the answer to that,” Barley whispered to Ian, to which his younger brother nudged him in response.

“Actually, before I get into that...” Corey said, interrupting herself. “I may as well tell you all who the other two gremlin wizards were. I’ve already told you about Brazen. He was known as the lookout slash spy of the group. Next, you’ve got Huxley. He was one who usually planned out the group’s best double-crossing, troublemaking schemes. And finally, there was Quain. Of the three gremlins, he was the most skilled when it came to magic. But it wasn’t only because he had the Heart’s Fire and knew every single magic decree by the book. He also just so happened to be...a druid.”

“What’s a druid?” the younger Lightfoot asked.

“Simple, Ian,” Barley answered. “It’s a person with the magic gift whose strong suit is nature-based magic. But more importantly...a druid has the ability to shapeshift AT WILL!”

“What? No way!”

“It’s true! You already know that you can only do magic if you have the gift. But only a select few are also born druids! Of course...no one’s seen a druid in years. They’re extremely rare and hard to make out—I mean, obviously. But they’re out there all right! I remember rereading about it at one point when we looked through all my books.”

“Well, then, I-I guess searching through them wasn’t a total loss after all,” Ian said with a grin. But then he found his mind racing over all these new details.

First, there was the Disguise Spell—which only worked when a wizard told the truth. Then there was the S.S. Medallion—which could be used without telling the truth. And now there were voluntary shapeshifters, too? The younger elf was beginning to feel dizzy just thinking about all these different disguise options. But then he realized something.

“So, wait...” Ian processed aloud. “So...if-if Quain could shapeshift into anything, anytime, then...why would he have needed to make the S.S. Medallion? Unless—”

“Well, Brazen and Huxley weren’t druids,” Corey answered. “True, they had the magic gift, but they weren’t as strong and powerful as Quain—which admittedly, made them pretty jealous most of the time. More than anything, they wanted his exact skill.”

“Ahhh,” Ian said, understanding.

“So the wizards invented the S.S. Medallion just so they could rise to his level?” Saxon asked the Manticore.

“Precisely,” she nodded. “Brazen and Huxley only had the Disguise Spell at their side to mask themselves into other beings. But even they didn’t like telling the truth all the time. Yet the gremlins loved using foolproof disguises. So they wanted to find some way to be in disguise, without having to be honest—just like their friend, Quain.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Barley said. “I mean, magic decrees are there for a reason. So that there’s always pure, good magic. How could they have possibly gotten around that?”

“Fair question, Sir Barley. But I’m afraid even I don’t know the answer to that. There are some secrets gremlins have within their class that still remain a mystery. What I do know is that they knew they couldn’t just make the power of shapeshifting come about. The three wizards had put in their A-game and use every resource they had to make it so. And so, they turned to the Untold Caverns—which wasn’t far from their village.

“From within there, they were able to find the rarest metals to smith the medallion’s pendant to make it as stable and unbreakable as they possibly could. Once they made the pendant, Quain, Brazen, and Huxley combined their individual magic to create the medallion’s magic. It consisted of Huxley’s Disguise Spell—which was kind of obvious. Brazen’s Growth Spell—which was used to help the medallion change sizes based on the creature the user desired to become. Quain’s Nature Speak Spell—so that the user could automatically understand any creature’s language. And finally, a merged Stone Spell, for its added and foolproof indestructibility. All of that converged power forever sealed into one, and lo and behold, the S.S. Medallion was born!”

“So that’s why I couldn’t destroy it!” Ian realized.

“Wait a minute, you tried to destroy the medallion?” Corey inquired.

“Oh, uh...yes...” the young wizard admitted shamefully. “But what choice did I have? It was evil magic, and Gedeon wanted it! And I thought the only way he couldn’t have it was to destroy it once and for all! But I couldn’t...and it doesn’t sound like I can...”

“Okay, first of all, the S.S. Medallion isn’t a source of evil magic.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope. I told you, the gremlins made it to try and serve the realm for the better.”

“Yeah, Ian, weren’t you even listening?” Barley chimed in.

“Sorry...there’s just...a lot going around in my head right now,” an overwhelmed Ian said, running his fingers through his curly, blue hair.

“Understood.”

“And second, because of its indestructibility, the medallion could not and cannot be destroyed,” the Manticore continued. “The gremlins made sure of that.”

“Man, now I wish I knew that before handling it the way I did,” Ian muttered, then he sighed sadly.

“So anyway, Quain, Huxley, and Brazen had their invention. An invention that they believed would change the realms forever. They tested it out and it was a huge success on their part! Huxley and Brazen could transform into any creature they wanted, just like any druid could—but with an added twist. There is only one thing the S.S. Medallion is able to do that real druids cannot do themselves...”

“And what’s that?” asked a mustachioed gnome.

“A druid can’t wield their staff while they’re shapeshifted into another creature. Their unique power lies in shapeshifting alone. But if one wears the medallion, they can shapeshift and cast spells at the same time!”

“Whoa,” Ian said. He thought back to Gedeon casting the Fog Spell while the rogue wizard was in his minotaur form. Now that part made sense.

“They were ahead of their time, those three. WAY ahead of their time. But unfortunately—as you might’ve guessed—from the way history played out, it didn’t end up going anywhere for them.”

“So what happened?” Barley asked.

“Greed. That’s what happened,” Corey answered, brandishing her Curse Crusher once again. “As soon as the medallion was complete, the three friends each had newer, different opinions on what they wanted to do with it...

“Huxley, realizing what a powerful magical object they’d created, wanted to keep it all for himself, and Brazen still wanted to share this wonderful invention with others. But Quain—being the wise druid that he was—came to the conclusion that the medallion’s power was far too dangerous for anyone, including themselves, to use.

“This made Huxley furious. He accused Quain of being jealous that the medallion was much stronger than he was with just his simple Druid magic. But all Quain really wanted was to try and reason with his two friends. Alas, they refused to listen...and instead, the three gremlins ended up fighting over the talisman.

“It was a hard battle, until Quain finally ended their dispute by casting his strongest druid spell, defeating his closest comrades. With them worn out, he ended up being the one to secure the medallion, but at a terrible price. It didn’t take long for the three friends to go their separate ways after that, thus abandoning their grand plan of making magic and inventions one. And it only got worse from there...

“A plague soon hit their village of Dangarnon and made the majority of their people sick. Even—”

“Dangarnon?” the older Lightfoot interjected. He had never heard of that place before.

The Manticore frowned dumbfoundedly and turned to face the brothers. “Y-you know...Dangarnon...as in, uh...” But she hesitated, then faced the section of tables that had children seated. “Kids, you may want to cover your ears for this.”

Young elves, satyrs, and trolls alike did as they were told and covered their ears, while some of their parents did it for them with concerned looks on their faces.

Then Corey inhaled a deep breath and yelled out to the crowd, “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNG!”

Her roaring yell practically shook the whole tavern! It caused a waiter to accidentally drop an order for a table, and a drinking goblet or two to break into pieces! Meanwhile, the teenage and adult customers—including Ian and Barley themselves—also covered their ears, trying to prevent the deafening roar from shattering their eardrums.

Soon the beast finally ended her savage yelp, and everyone uncovered their ears. Then with a hoarse voice, she said, “so you see...dang, and Dangarnon. Get it?”

“Yeah...we-we got it,” Ian said softly as he comforted his elf ears as a result of the roaring yell.

“Man, maybe I shouldn’t have asked...” Barley muttered, trying to soothe his own ears as well. He could tell just from looking at the other customers that the majority of them had gotten a considerable head and ear ache from that harsh cry.

As for the Manticore, she realized that her throat had run dry, and couldn’t possibly continue her exciting tale in this condition.

“Quick! Someone get me a Satyrade or something!” she croaked, and Sundra the hostess rushed a can of the carbonated drink right over to the tavern manager.

Taking it, the beast instantly drank the whole thing in seconds flat. Before long, she was quenched. She crushed the can, tossed it aside, then tried to jog her memory.

“Now, where was I? Oh, right! So Dangarnon’s unspeakable plague spread like wildfire! Even the three wizards themselves became very ill. In time, Brazen and Huxley—who were already badly beaten—didn’t make it, and Quain was the only one left. With his village gone poor, he intended to leave it behind and start anew. But he’d become far too weak. Using the very last of his strength, the great druid climbed the hills outside of Dangarnon, and buried the S.S. Medallion there, hoping no one would ever find it and use its power for the worst. He passed not long after that—and the medallion was no more...until now it seems...”

“Here we go...” Ian said flatly. He knew exactly what was coming next.

“Despite years and years of earth burying the medallion further and further into the ground, a new wizard has been able to reclaim it, and now plans to use its power to commit selfish acts, unless he can be stopped...” Corey foretold. “And that, my friends, is the story of the S.S. Medallion.”

As the mighty beast took her end-of-story bows, the customers and the staff gave the Manticore a round of applause. After giving her many thanks to her patrons, she then made her way back over to the Lightfoot brothers, who’d just finished paying the tab for their lunch.

“So, what’d you boys think?” the Manticore asked them.

“Five stars,” Barley said, flat-out. “Had me at the edge of my seat the whole time. It was awesome! Right, Ian?”

But the younger elf ignored his brother’s question and instead asked the beast worriedly, “so...the medallion...it is dangerous?”

“That depends...” Corey said with ambiguity. “But if you want my advice, your level of fear is the determining factor of the risk it carries.”

Somehow, Ian thought that that was more of a riddle than an answer. But he supposed speaking in riddles was another one of the many quest factors. Then he asked, “so, how does it work? Do you know?”

“Ah, now that’s the complicated part,” the Manticore said, lifting an index finger up in the air. “There’s a specific way to activate it that requires following each step carefully.”

“I’m guessing the first step is putting it around your neck,” the younger Lightfoot presumed.

“Well, yeah, obviously. You can’t use its power if you’re not wearing it.”

“Yeah, I know. I-I tried it on a couple times when I had it. And each time I did, I felt this weird...chill go up my spine, and then my eyes would glow for just a second. Gedeon, uh, said that’s, um...that-that means its powers are activated.”

“Gedeon told you that?” Barley asked his brother.

“Yeah, he-he did,” Ian said, downcast. “He also said that only those with the magic gift can feel that sensation. That’s how he figured out that I was a wizard. He knew what it did all along, he just didn’t tell me until I literally put the medallion in his claws. I just...I can’t believe I trusted him.” Now turning to Corey, he said to her, “Miss Manticore, I’m sorry I didn’t just wait until you’d come back to ask you about the medallion. Had I done that, then it would be here in person with us. And not with him.”

After a moment, the Manticore finally said, “I gotta be honest, boys...Gedeon is the first evil wizard that has come about in a long, long time—at least in my eyes. I’ve faced a good few before and there have been worse. But if he is as deceitful and cunning as you say he is, and if I myself have never heard of him, then I highly doubt he knows how to use that medallion as much as you do.”

“But he does! He transformed from one creature to another like it was nothing!” Ian insisted. “Though he said some incantation to do that, I...I can’t remember what it was...I think it was like...mute-ta-ta va-vivian?”

“Actually, it’s mute-taught-eo viv-en-ti-um,” Corey pronounced.

“Mutatio Viventium,” Barley repeated. “That’s it?”

“Not quite. There’s more to it than that.”

“Of course there is...” the younger elf muttered under his breath.

“First—as you said, Ian—you must put the medallion around your neck to activate it. Next, you must think of the creature you want to transform into...”

“That’s not so bad,” Barley commented.

“But it’s not that easy!” the Manticore interjected. “You can’t just think of a creature and POOF—you are that creature. It’s absolutely integral that you ask yourself questions like, say...the size! What’s the size of your creature? What colors does it have? Etcetera, etcetera...you must answer those kinds of questions and more in order for the transformation to work.”

“Then you can shapeshift?” Ian asked.

“Well, yes...but not unless you say the incantation.”

“Right, right. But what if you want to return back to normal?”

“Then you recite, ‘add-normal-is.’”

“Ad Normalis,” the younger Lightfoot repeated.

“Precisely!”

“And as soon as you shapeshift into the creature of your choosing, you have that creature’s abilities in that form, right?” Barley asked.

“That’s correct.”

“Wow, this is-this is a lot of great knowledge! Knowledge the greatest fans of yore could only dream of! How could something as amazing as this not end up in the history books?”

“Well, no one ever really knew about the medallion to begin with, sadly,” Corey informed. “The only stories ever told about it at best came from word of mouth. And it hasn’t gotten around very far in the United Realms. Really only those that lived in Quain’s village of Dangarnon got to know its story and spread it around. Neighbors, descendants, friends and family of neighbors and descendants—”

“And you,” Ian added.

“Yes, and me...because I’ve been around for a very long time. It’s been quite a journey for me to live many different generations of life. Magic, no magic, magic again. It’s...” she paused, feeling hesitant.

“It’s what?” Barley asked.

“It’s interesting, to say the least. If there’s anything I’ve realized in these last six months, with magic returning and me chronicling my adventures of way back when to the good folks that come here to my tavern, it’s that if a story tells of anything magical—whether it’s bad or good—it’s bound to be a true story.”

Both brothers nodded in wonder. Truer words could not have been spoken.

“So...since Dangarnon is where Quain and those other wizards lived, a-and that’s where he buried the S.S. Medallion...” Ian finally said. “Could that be where Gedeon is hiding?”

“I don’t know for sure,” the Manticore answered. “But it would be the best place to start...”

“So, where is it?” Barley asked.

The beast thought about it for a moment, then she said, “follow me.”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 22 ◊

To Grasp a Gremlin

The Manticore led the Lightfoot brothers over to a large map displayed on one of the tavern’s stone walls. It depicted the western side of the United Realms—which included New Mushroomton. The mighty beast pointed towards a vast mountain range due east.

“Nowadays, Dangarnon is an unmarked shanty village located right outside the Untold Caverns, which is just east from here—beyond the mountain range,” she explained, drawing her index finger around each location. “It’s as poor and full of shady gremlins, old abandoned hangars, and scraps as it was in the old days. If this Gedeon rogue of yours has that S.S. Medallion, he’s bound to have taken it there with him.”

“And...if he hasn’t?” Ian asked nervously.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

The younger Lightfoot furrowed his brows as he began to think deeply about this. All of this.

“Depending on who you ask, Dangarnon is either paradise or a place of woe,” Corey added. “Hardly gets any sun there, which is why the area is just perfect for gremlins.”

“But of course! For their main weakness is the dreaded sunlight!” Barley said excitedly.

“Exactly! I mean, put a gremlin in the sun for a whole afternoon, and they’ll have a very high fever for almost a week!”

The Manticore and Barley shared a laugh over this all while a pensive Ian continued to be lost in thought as he’d now placed a hand on his chin. He then remembered his notebook and the items he wrote down during the mighty beast’s story, and decided to get it out and look through that as well.

“Now, while sunlight is their biggest weakness, water is their biggest strength,” Corey continued. “If you place even a droplet of water on a gremlin, they will instantly duplicate! A gremlin can make their own savage army simply by taking a dive in the river, which Dangarnon also happens to have by the way, and yet another reason why the town is ideal for a barbaric species like them to live.”

Ian nodded at the beast’s words as his eyes focused solely on the pages of his writing. He just so happened to have both sun and water facts jotted down in his notes from his research with Barley the other day.

“But know this, boys,” the Manticore then said gravely, causing the younger elf to gaze up at her attentively. “As long as Gedeon has that medallion around his neck and is transformed into another creature, he cannot be weakened by light nor create more of himself with water. Only if you're a gremlin can you truly do such a thing.”

Of all these things, Ian knew one thing for sure—that gremlins, and Gedeon himself, were much more complicated and dangerous than he ever thought they could be. He knew now exactly what he had to do for the good of himself and everyone around him.

Just then, the kitchen doors opened, and the tavern’s head chef popped out with sweat running down her face. “Oh, Manticore! We’ve got dishes for tables three, fourteen, seventeen, and twenty-one, and no one to take ‘em out! Could you give us a hand?”

Corey’s eyes widened. As willing as she was to give her favorite customers the information they sought, she was still tavern manager after all.

“Oh, yes, of course!” she said to the troll. “Be right there!” As the head chef then returned to the kitchen, the beast turned back to where the Lightfoot brothers were standing. “Sorry, boys, but that’s all the time I’ve got for right now. This tavern seriously can’t run itself!”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Barley observed, peeking over Corey’s shoulder. Then he once again removed his beanie, and bowed before the beast. “But thank you ever so much, O mighty Manticore. You’ve been a great help.”

“No problem, Sir Barley. Happy to be of service to you and Sir Ian,” Corey said with a smile. She was about to walk off to the kitchen to help out her staff before the older elf stuck out a hand and stopped her.

“Actually, wait, uh, Corey! Is there...anything special of yours you think you should lend to us for our grand and glorious quest to Dangarnon? Like a sword of some kind? Another one-of-a-kind gem? A shield?”

The Manticore stared at the older Lightfoot. She thought about it, then instantly remembered something. “Oh! I almost forgot!” She reached into the pocket of her warrior armor and took out the bandana the brothers had given to her earlier. Returning it to Barley, she advised, “I believe this bandana you brought to me is all you need.” Then she pointed to the gear with the spark inside that was painted on top of it. “If you see that symbol anywhere, you’ll know you’re in Dangarnon. Call it their emblem, if you will.”

“Oh, yeah! Awesome! Thanks!”

Suddenly, there was a loud CRASH right next to the beast and the older elf. They both turned to see that one of the tavern’s busboys had slipped on the ground, having dropped a number of cauldrons and goblets he’d just cleared away from tables in the process.

The bard-dressed elf moaned in pain and embarrassment over what he just did, then he looked to the side and shouted to seemingly no one, “hey, no pushing!”

“Ohhhh, dear...” Corey said, then she turned back to Barley. “I’m sorry, but I really must go now.”

“Hey, no problem!” the older Lightfoot assured. “That’s all I wanted to ask.”

“Oh, well, if-if that’s all you need, then...good luck on your new quest! You and Ian!”

“Thank you!"

With all that said and done, the Manticore rushed off to the kitchen at once where she was then heard saying to all the workers inside, “could someone help Larrington out here?”

Barley exhaled at the sight of the tavern’s chaos. It really was busy! Then putting his beanie back on his head, he said, “okay, Ian, let’s—”

But as the teenage elf turned to face his brother, he realized that the young wizard was no longer standing next to him.

“Ian?”

The older elf looked around, but his younger brother didn’t seem to be in the tavern anymore. Not even at their booth table, which now had their bagged leftovers placed on it. Gearing his eyes towards the main entrance, that's when Barley noticed one of the doors swiveling in and out as if someone had gone through and left. The older Lightfoot knew that just had to be Ian. He was probably heading over to Guinevere the Second right now.

With their full service at the tavern complete, Barley went over to get his and his brother’s sustenance, then he headed for the exit as well—intent on following the younger elf. He walked by several other booth tables with customers happily enjoying their food, one of which seated an elderly elf wearing a fedora who, in that moment, had accidentally dropped his fork. The teenage elf noticed this and decided to pick it up for him.

“Here you go,” Barley said with a smile.

“Why, thank you,” the aged elf said with his own expression of delight as he took the utensil back. “You are a fine young lad.”

“Oh, thanks. Well, I, uh, gotta get going. But nice to meet you!”

And with that, the older Lightfoot walked himself and the leftovers towards the tavern’s exit.

He had left the senior citizen behind in such a rush that he didn’t even hear the customer say softly in response, “nice to meet you, too, Barley.”

By that point, the teenage elf had already made it past the tavern doors. But with his fork back where it belonged, the elder elf neatly set it down next to his plate. Next, he took off his hat—revealing small satyr horns atop his head. Finally, he got out a book from within his satchel, opened it to a bookmarked page, and began to read it.

Meanwhile, the Manticore had finished bringing tables fourteen and seventeen their food, when her eyes caught onto the grizzled hybrid. As soon as she noticed him, the beast felt a sting of panic flow through her. Then frowning, she strode right over to him.

“Eldrick, what are you doing here?” she asked as she approached the old man’s table.

“Just thought I’d come see the boys in person,” he answered, not looking up from his book.

“You know you’re not supposed to be here. Especially not in their presence!”

“Why not?” Eldrick challenged as he glanced up at her. “Just because you and I aren’t on the same page?”

“NO, IT’S THAT—” Corey began to say, but then she composed herself and lowered her voice. She didn’t want this unexpected arrival to cause a scene in her tavern. “Listen, I don’t know who let you in here, but I’d like to ask for you to leave.”

“I can’t,” Eldrick stated as he fixed his gaze on his book again.

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?”

“Because I just got my order taken, and I hear the Kracken Kracklins are delightful.”

“But I thought you were a vegetarian?”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I can get here. There were other things that looked quite appetizing—worthy of a five star review.”

The Manticore gave a resigned sigh. “All right, fine. You can eat here.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a phone call,” Corey said as she turned around and made her way to the back of the tavern.

But Eldrick looked back up from his book, suspecting that she was up to something. “Are you calling the cops on me, Manty?” he asked worriedly, now getting up from his seat and using his hooves to leap his way up to her.

“What? NO! Of course not!” the Manticore insisted as she turned back to face the hybrid. “That has nothing to do with you! I only ask that you stay away from Ian and Barley. They don’t need your help.”

“Well, then, whose help are they going to get? That scoundrel of a gremlin’s? He’s nothing but trouble! I know he is!”

“Don’t worry yourself, Eldrick. I’ve got it all taken care of! You heard what the judge said at the council. Now, please, DON’T go after those boys. That’s an order!”

The elder half-satyr half-elf knew there was no use in changing the Manticore’s mind. She could be very stubborn. So he sardonically said to her, “yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

With her brows still furrowed, Corey marched for the kitchen once more as Eldrick begrudgingly sat back down at his booth table. After a long moment of drumming his fingers on the surface, he turned back and faced the tavern exit doors, growing a determined look on his face.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian walked down the stone path away from the tavern’s entrance. Both his hands tightly clutched his wizard staff, which he’d now grown to full size. After a couple more steps, he believed he’d gone far enough. Letting out an exhale, he released the Invisibility Spell he’d just cast on himself in the tavern, then he continued to walk towards Guinevere the Second.

The young wizard felt bad for accidentally ramming into that busboy. But as much as he wanted to blame himself for the mishap, he also felt like he was pinning the blame on himself for a lot of things as it was lately. Besides, no one saw him run into the busboy, anyway. He was invisible, and it was too crowded—that was pretty much his whole point for doing the spell in the first place. So if it was anyone’s fault this time, it might as well be the busboy and his clumsiness.

Once more, a lot was going around in the younger Lightfoot’s head. His timeline of mistakes, deeds, and revelations were only continuing to grow as he walked further down the path. But just then, he heard his name get called.

“Ian! Wait up!”

The younger elf looked up and turned to see his brother running down the stone path with their leftover food.

“Why’d you leave like that?” Barley asked as he came right up to his brother.

“I have to go after Gedeon,” Ian declared, staring back towards the horizon.

“Well, I’m coming with you.”

“No, Barley,” the younger Lightfoot said, jutting a hand out. “This is something I have to do alone. I caused this mess, so I should be the one to face him.” He then continued making his way down the hill towards Guinevere.

“But you can’t do it alone!” Barley insisted as he got in front of his younger brother. “He’s way too powerful and dangerous for you to take on by yourself! You know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t care!” Ian protested as he brushed past his older brother and kept on walking. “If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have the S.S. Medallion!”

“You really can’t blame yourself for that, Ian. It could’ve happened to anyone!”

“Yeah, well, it happened to ME! This is my responsibility. I won’t put you, Mom, Colt, my friends, or anyone else in danger.”

As the brothers made it to their van, Ian walked past her while Barley stopped next to his door and placed the leftover food inside on the driver’s seat. Then closing his door and walking up to his brother, the older elf asked, “okay, what is with this ‘I’ nonsense? ‘I have a chance,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘If I don’t stop him,’ IAN, THERE IS NO ‘I’ IN QUEST! No quest should ever be taken on alone! I guess that’s, uh...one thing I forgot to mention last time...but that’s not the point! The point is, I’m not letting you go after Gedeon alone!”

“Well, WATCH ME!” Ian shouted, only now turning to face his brother after having had his back to the older Lightfoot the whole time. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do! I want to help you!”

“If you really wanted to help me, you’d let me go and confront him! UGH! Gedeon was right, you can be controlling! You really don’t know me at all!”

Having let all of his furious energy out on his brother, Ian stormed past Barley and made his way over to a nearby tree stump. He put his wizard staff down next to it, then he sat down on the stump in anger—resting his elbows on his knees, his hands on his cheeks, and letting out a groan.

Barley stood there for a moment feeling hurt by his brother’s outbursts once again, but the last thing he wanted was to get in another fight with Ian. The older elf knew there just had to be some way to calm him down. Slowly walking over to the tree stump, Barley sat down on the ground next to his brother, with both of them staring at the horizon of trees in front of them.

“Man...Disguise Spells really like to mess with us, don’t they?”

“Ya think?” the younger elf said with a tone.

Then there was silence. Barley looked over at his brother. He took in the sour expression the younger Lightfoot was giving off, then staring back out at the trees again, the older Lightfoot let out a sad sigh.

“I’m sorry you feel this way, young mage. But you know...you can be controlling, too, sometimes.”

“Yeah, like when?” Ian questioned, still not looking at his brother.

“Well...when you wanted us to take the expressway instead of the Path of Peril, for one. And when you didn’t let me convince the sprites to use their wings. Stealing the medallion from me...and right now.”

“Well, you stole from me first.”

“That wasn’t stealing, that was—” But Barley stopped himself, and pondered something. Then he said, “actually...I think we’re both wrong. Gedeon stole it first, from the Jewel Museum.”

“So?”

“Didn’t you say you were no better than he was?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, then...neither was I.”

Ian perked up at the sound of that and looked to his brother expecting what he hoped would be an apology. But still suspicious, he kept his brows furrowed.

“I shouldn’t have tried to keep the medallion away from you, okay?” Barley admitted. “Maybe then it wouldn’t have fallen into Gedeon’s hands.”

“But Barley, had-had you not, then Gedeon still would’ve gotten it.”

“Maybe...but that doesn’t matter. My gut is still telling me that this is my fault, too. It’s also saying that we do need to confront Gedeon, and we need to do it together.”

Ian gave off a small harrumph before turning his gaze and himself away from his brother again.

“Ian, believe me, I want to go after this guy as much as you do! But doing it alone isn’t the answer. You say you don’t want to put anyone in danger, well...I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“So, basically, we’ve both become thieves and we don’t want to put each other in danger? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“All I’m trying to say is, I don’t want this whole medallion-Gedeon thing to make us end up like those three gremlin wizards in the Manticore’s story,” Barley said as he got up and kneeled in front of Ian and his tree stump. “They had the medallion, too, tried to make a difference, and all it did was make them fight. Then they were never friends again. Do you really want us to be like that?”

The younger elf thought about it for a moment, but he knew the answer clear as day.

“No, I-I don’t,” Ian said solemnly, then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to lose you, Barley. But Gedeon...he’s-he’s wickedly manipulative! I just really don’t want you to have to go through that.”

“But you did, and I won’t let you go through that again. Not alone, anyway. If Gedeon wants you and you alone to try and take the S.S. Medallion back from him, he’s got another thing comin’! ’Cause on a quest, the clear path...”

As Barley tilted his head to the side and left his sentence hanging, the younger Lightfoot sighed, then with a small resigned smile, he said, “...is never the right one.”

Ian hated to admit it, but arguments between him and Barley were close to unavoidable, and in some of them he was never gonna win. But that was okay. They both had great ideas that were important to compromise. But as long as their relationship was still intact, that was all that really mattered.

“So how do we get to Dangarnon?”

Grinning, Barley said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

◊ ◊ ◊

“I’ve been saving these for when we’d go on a quest without a time limit on our hands,” Barley said as he pulled two beige cloaks out from his basement bedroom closet. He threw one of them to Ian.

“And why exactly do we need these?” Ian asked, inspecting the cloak.

“You said Gedeon wore an oversized robe, so I figure that the best way to go undercover in Dangarnon is to dress like him.”

The older Lightfoot held up his own cloak to his shoulders to demonstrate his point.

Raising an eyebrow, Ian asked, “soooo...back at the Manticore’s Tavern when you said, ‘we shouldn’t be like Gedeon and those three gremlin wizards,’ you meant ‘we totally should be like Gedeon and those three gremlin wizards’?”

Barley slumped his shoulders. “Ian, there’s a major difference between what’s on the outside and what’s on the inside of a person. Just because we’re wearing these cloaks, that doesn’t mean we’ll become as cruel as Gedeon. It’s just so that we can get through the town without anyone noticing us.”

Ian didn’t expect his brother to consider going undercover. Barley was the most showy person he knew. But regardless, the younger elf was far from against making this a covert operation.

“Yeah...I suppose that’s a good idea,” he said.

Barley smiled, then tossing his own cloak aside, he resumed digging in his closet.

“What are you looking for now?” Ian asked him.

“You’ll see...” the older elf teased.

Soon he swiftly brandished a sword out in front of him and Ian.

“Ha-ha! Found it!” Barley said excitedly. “I don’t know why I didn’t think to bring this last time.”

“Your sword?” Ian questioned.

“Hey, you have a wizard staff. I think ’tis best that I hath my own weapon this time around!” the older Lightfoot declared as he lifted his sword into the air and swung it in all directions.

“Fair enough. But, um, hey...are you sure we should lie to Mom again?”

“You said you didn’t want to put anyone else in danger, and I respect that.”

“But...what are we going to say?”

“Hmm...” Barley took a moment to think about it, then he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it!”

◊ ◊ ◊

Laurel was at her work table next to the kitchen—going through papers—when Barley came up from the basement and approached her.

“Hey, Mom. Would it be cool with you if Ian and I spent the night at Shrub’s house tonight for an all-nighter Quests of Yore campaign?”

“What day is it again?” Laurel asked aloud. Searching for her calendar on the table, she then muttered, “gosh, with both of my boys home from school, I can never remember what day it is...”

“It’s Friday,” Barley told her.

“Ah, yes, well...I don’t see why not,” his mother said, now looking at him again. “Just don’t get into any trouble.”

“Mom, it’s Quests of Yore. You only run into real trouble if you encounter the horribly, deadly gelatinous cube,” Barley said as he began making his way back towards his room, but then he stopped as he remembered, “oh, wait...we’ve done that already, haven't we?”

Laurel giggled. “Well, when you put it that way...I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other dangers...”

“I know, I know. But thanks, Mom! I’ll go tell Ian. He’s getting our sleeping bags in my room.”

The younger Lightfoot was standing by Barley’s door, listening in on his brother’s conversation with their mother. So now that he heard that he was supposed to be getting sleeping bags, he rushed back down the stairs to do just that.

Seconds later, Barley charged down the stairs himself and saw his younger brother digging through his closet.

“This closet is a disaster!” Ian cried as he tossed some of Barley’s shirts aside. “How do you live like this?”

“It’s...complicated. Have you found them yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Step aside, I’ll get ‘em,” Barley offered, and Ian obliged. “I don’t suppose you looked in here when you were searching for the medallion, did you?”

“Nah, it seemed too obvious. But when in Bozark’s Hammer did you think of hiding it underneath this floorboard?” The younger elf just so happened to have his feet over it as he asked.

“Not long after I moved in here, I discovered that particular piece of wood was never properly secured. I was gonna fix it, but then I thought, ‘hey, you know what? This is way too cool! I think wanna keep it just the way it is!’”

Soon the older elf came out of his closet with a pair of sleeping bags under his arms and walked up to Ian.

“And since then, I’ve used it as my one place to hide small important things from time to time.” But then Barley widened his eyes in fear and avoided eye contact with his brother as he realized, “oh, no...I’ve said too much.”

Ian giggled in amusement. It was the first time he’d done so in the last couple days. But then the younger Lightfoot had another thought on his mind.

“So...if you knew the medallion was taken, and that I took it...wh-why didn’t you stop me?”

The older Lightfoot froze a little. As much as he could’ve gone through with driving to his brother’s school and stopping him from giving the medallion to “Mr. Vance” that day, he didn’t do it. But it was right at that moment that Barley finally realized why.

“I guess ’cause...the best way to learn is by doing, not being told what to do.”

Noticing the older elf crack a smile, Ian smiled back. That was just what he felt like he needed to hear to really help him prepare for another new, exciting quest beyond New Mushroomton.

◊ ◊ ◊

Loads of stuff under both of their arms, Barley and Ian managed to bring up everything they needed on their quest in just one trip.

“Wow, do you guys really need this much stuff?” their mother asked, standing in the living room noticing all the snacks, sleeping bags, cloaks, and everything in between.

“On a quest, you have to be prepared for absolutely anything,” Barley justified, putting his stuff down at the front door.

“Yeah, even if the quest is just a silly board game,” Ian added, doing the same thing, and playing along with the lie.

“Hey!”

“Kidding!”

“What Sir Iandore of Lightfoot means to say is, it’ll be a fun night of technique, fortune, rolling dice, making moves, and all that good stuff.”

“I’m sure it will,” Laurel said. “But before you go...”

Leaving her words hanging, she walked up to her sons individually, and gave them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Neither Ian nor Barley expected this of their mother when they told her they were just going out for one night, even though they weren’t. But they did suppose she would be by herself with Blazey while they were gone so there was that.

Laurel went to Barley first, then Ian. As soon as she finished giving love to her younger son, she put her hands on his forearms and said, “please be safe.”

“We will, Mom, don’t worry about it,” Barley said.

“I know, I just...care about you both, that’s all. But don’t let me keep you! Off you go!”

“Bye, Mom,” Ian said as he and his brother picked up their stuff again and headed for the door.

“See ya, Mom,” Barley added. Then they both went through the front door with their things and closed it behind them. All they hoped for from there on out was that they would come back from this quest in one piece.

◊ ◊ ◊

“Well, getting past Mom with those sleeping bags and everything else was easier than I thought it would be,” Ian acknowledged.

He and Barley were now seated in Guinevere, about to leave for Dangarnon.

“Like I said, undercover,” the older Lightfoot emphasized. “And never fear, Shrub the Sagacious will also cover for us.”

“Okay, good. Now, let’s go over what we’ve got...”

The younger elf pulled out his notebook and opened it up to a page he’d begun writing in Barley’s room. It listed everything the brothers thought to bring with them on their quest.

“Let’s see...‘Evidence’?”

“Bandana. Wanted Poster. Check!”

“All right...‘Sustenance’?”

“As in Manticore’s Tavern leftovers, cheese puffs, jumbo marshmallows, Mountain Doom, and...TripleDent Gum? Check!”

“Wait, whoa, whoa! Jumbo marshmallows?”

“Yeah! They’re the ultimate marshmallows for camping,” Barley explained. “I mean, there they were—at the store—sitting on a shelf amongst other marshmallow bags, and there I was—passing by them—and they called to me screaming, ‘buy me! Buy me, Barley! Buy me, please!’ So I surrendered to their pleas and bought them.”

“Of course you did. Okay, uh...‘Map to the Untold Caverns slash Dangarnon’?”

“Should be in the glovebox somewhere.”

Ian opened the glove compartment in front of him to make sure, and sure enough, a map was there with the same-old parking tickets and stained napkins mixed in between.

“Check!” the younger Lightfoot declared after he closed the compartment. “‘Quests of Yore guidebook’?”

“I don’t even see why we need this,” Barley said as he picked up the guidebook in question and tossed it to his brother, who struggled to catch it. “You’re much more experienced now. I think we’ve practiced most of the spells enough that you know all the incantations and magic decrees by heart.”

“Yeah, well, not all of them...” Ian admitted, staring at the book in his hands.

The fact that he’d failed the Armor Spell in his duel with Gedeon brought as much pain to the younger elf as when the dastardly rogue punched his left shoulder. It didn’t hurt as much as yesterday or the day before, but deep down, the idea of letting that gremlin’s words get to him was still there. What also saddened him were the number of calls he’d missed from his friends when they tried to warn him about Gedeon and his true nature. But his phone and Barley’s just so happened to be the final item on his list.

“Okay, last but not least, ‘Phones’?” Ian inquired, focusing on his notebook again.

“All set and charged,” the older elf said.

“Well, that’s the whole list,” the younger Lightfoot remarked as he checked the last box.

“Great!”

As a content Barley began Guinevere the Second’s engine, Ian couldn’t help but feel a little perplexed. “Is it just me, or was that a little too easy? I mean, one of my lists, everything checked off, no problems whatsoever...”

“Not to worry, Sir Iandore. We’ll surely encounter an obstacle in our path sooner or later. You’ll see. It wouldn’t be a true quest without at least one.”

“Yep, I’m sure we will.” Then tucking his notebook away in his pocket, the younger elf asked, “so...to Dangarnon we go?”

The older Lightfoot reached for the gearshift, shifting it to O, then he shouted proudly, “ONWARD!” Afterwards, he backed out of the driveway, then steered Guinevere the Second out of their street of Pennybun Lane.

In a matter of minutes, the brothers were soon out of New Mushroomton, and on their way to the village of gremlins.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 23 ◊

Chant of the Lightfoot Brothers

The path to Dangarnon was easy for Ian and Barley to compromise. All they had to do was stay on the expressway for a few hours, then exit off a road that would lead them straight towards the Untold Caverns. While not as treacherous as the dreaded Path of Peril they went through six months ago, this particular road was still quite bumpy and unpaved. At times, it was almost like they were on a rollercoaster—going up, then down, until suddenly...BUMP! That process repeated itself several times in the last couple minutes of their drive.

As Barley steered, Ian’s eyes were focused on the Armor Spell page in the Quests of Yore guidebook. Indeed its magic decree clearly stated that he couldn’t take anything personally, hence why the spell failed for him the other day. So now that the younger Lightfoot knew just what he had to do for this spell to work, he had to find some way to not let his enemy’s words get to him—which, for a caring elf like him, was easier said than done.

Meanwhile, Barley was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and humming to himself as he stared out into the horizon—where the sky had become an orangy-pink thanks to the lowering sun.

But soon the older elf couldn’t keep his humming all to himself anymore and quietly began to sing aloud, “we’re heading on our quest, the medallion we must retrieve...” Then he went back to humming the last few imaginary verses he had in mind. After that, he went silent, until he began humming once more to the tune he was just singing to himself. Then his humming turned into words again when he chanted, “the Lightfoot brothers can’t be stopped...something, something...that rhymes with...RETRIEEEEEVE!”

After Barley made the last part of his song into more of a yell, Ian’s ears began to ring. Slightly irked, the younger elf closed the guidebook with both of his hands and asked his brother, “what are you doing?”

“What I always do when I’m bored...chant!” Barley answered with a gusto at the end.

“Chant?”

“Yeah! You can, uh...join in if you want...”

“I’d...rather not...” Ian said awkwardly as he reopened Quests of Yore and resumed reading from its master spell pages once more.

“Oh, come on! It might cheer you up!” Barley insisted. But even still, his brother didn’t look interested one bit. His eyes back on the road, the older Lightfoot drummed his fingers on the wheel again, then said, “you know, this, uh, this chant...that I, uh, well, just chanted, was one I was trying to come up with during our quest to bring Dad back.”

Ian peered up from the book, confused. “You never did any chanting, I mean...not like what you were just doing, anyway.”

“Well, obviously!” Barley chuckled, then he once again changed his tenor to sound medieval. “That’s ’cause thou were asleep whilst I chanted. But since you art not sleeping now, you can hear me and my gut bust out this glorious tune!”

“Yeah-hah...no, thanks. I just want us to get in and out of Dangarnon as soon as possible with that medallion without making myself feel any worse.”

“And this chant is just the cure for that, dear brother of mine! You’d be surprised how the power of song can boost an adventurer’s confidence.”

“Barley—”

“Just one song—er, chant. Please? I promise it’ll make you feel better...”

Ian was silent for a moment, then rolling his eyes and closing the Quests of Yore guidebook again in resignation, he said, “ah, fine...one song, but that’s it! I’m telling you, my singing is just about as bad as my dancing.”

“Fear not, Sir Iandore. For mine is, too, but I loveth to do it, anyway! For ’tis fun, and...it helps me stay awake while I’m driving. I mean, we’ve been at this for almost three hours now.”

“You could always try TripleDent Gum,” the younger Lightfoot suggested. He was just about to reach for it when—

“TripleDent Gum will make you sm—”

“STOP, stop, stop, stop, stop!” Ian begged, waving his hands frantically in front of his face. “I didn’t need that.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Their jingle is so dang catchy!” the older elf justified with a smile. “But since you seem to hate that song, perhaps a fine tune of our own shall get it out of our heads.”

As far as Ian was concerned, his totally-in-the-mood-for-singing brother had just tricked him. It seemed like these days he could fall for anything, which, at the moment, was only making him feel the very feeling he already said he didn’t want to feel. But seeing as Barley’s great, though unconventional ideas were always about fifty-fifty to him, the younger elf could only wonder now what he had to lose.

So he said to the older Lightfoot, “well...I guess when you put it that way, a chant might not be so bad...”

“YES! Victory is mine!” Barley shouted in celebration. “Okay, so what I have so far is this...” He cleared his throat, then sang at normal volume, “we’re heading on our quest, the medallion we must retrieve, the Lightfoot Brothers can’t be stopped...uh...something, something...that rhymes with, uh...retrieve...I...don’t know what should come next...or what shall rhyme with ‘retrieve’ for that matter...any suggestions?”

“Gee, Barley, I-I don’t know...” Ian said with doubt.

“Come on, I know you have it in you like your Heart’s Fire! Now, think, what verse rhymes with retrieve?”

The younger Lightfoot thought about it with all his might. “Okay, retrieve...retrieve...uh...” he muttered. Soon his frown lightened as he finally felt something of a concept come through to him.

“Ooh, I sense an idea,” Barley noticed.

“Oh, uh...” Ian said, caught off guard.

“Come on, what is it?”

The younger elf knew that what he had in mind was absolutely ridiculous. But regardless, he sighed, then half-heartedly chanted, “uh...because we belieeeve...”

“That’s it!” Barley said excitedly. “Now, muster your voice, Sir Ian. A great chant cannot be glorious without strong vocal cords to carry it through. Try it again from the top!”

“Do I have to?”

“In order to cheer you up? Yes.”

“Okay...” Ian relented, blushing a little. Then with a deep inhale in and an exhale out, the younger Lightfoot chanted louder than he did before. “We’re...heading on our quest, the medallion we must retrieve, the Lightfoot Brothers can’t be stopped, because we believe!”

“Nice! Now, what’s next? A chant has its verses, but it has to have a good number of them to be one worthy of a quest. Uh...”

Tilting his head downward, Ian said quietly in a monotone voice, “I...can’t believe I was so naive...to trust a wizard who loves to thieve...”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Barley said firmly. “Uh...you must...um...Marsalax’s Beak! What else rhymes with retrieve?”

Seeing his brother scratching the side of his head, struggling, Ian decided the older elf needed more assistance with their improv. So after thinking about it some more, the younger elf proposed, “perceive?”

“Bingo!” Then mustering up his medieval chanting voice again, Barley sang, “that wasn’t your fault, you must perceive...uh...”

“This...this gremlin is...this gremlin is one who likes to deceive,” Ian finished for him.

“Brilliant!”

“How is that brilliant? Barley, you and I did the Disguise Spell once! We know what it’s like to trick someone, and—as we just realized hours ago—how to steal from someone, too. I just feel so...ridiculous that I couldn’t see that spell from the other way around...”

“Yeah...Gedeon definitely seems to have a way with words if he was able to keep that spell going for as long as he did...” Barley considered, then glancing at his brother, he added, “but you know what? So do you.”

“Uh...no, I don’t,” Ian said modestly. “Don’t you remember when I did all of the talking as Colt? I kept lying, and then the magic revealed that I thought of you as a screwup. When really, I-I was the one that screwed up.” Feeling burdened, he sighed once more. “I don’t have any words. Not now and not against Gedeon.”

“What are you talking about?” Barley asked, surprised. “If you ask me, you’re coming up with way better verses than I am! You’re using your head. Something I feel like I could use once in a while...” The older Lightfoot’s eyes laid downcast on Guinevere the Second’s steering wheel for a moment, then he said, “let’s put it this way: I have the guts, you have the brains. And you can use those brains to defeat Gedeon, and get the S.S. Medallion back! Now, come on, let us stick to our chant!”

“Okay, uh...let’s see...” Ian mumbled, thinking about what words to sing next. Then he chanted, “this...chant that we’re conceiving, uh...it is kind of relieving, uh...you know what? Maybe we should start dropping the ‘eve’s’ and pick a different suffix or something.”

“Sure thing, except, uh...what’s a suffix again?”

“They’re the set of letters at the end of a word.”

“Oh, right! Doy! I should know that. Ian. Dore. Ian-dore. But anyway, our chant, erm...it’s...uh...it’s for sure a good distraction...uh...OOH! We’re forming a chain reaction!”

“Nice one!”

“Why, thank you, young mage,” Barley said with pride, bowing his head at his brother. “While ’tis true that rhyming isn’t really my strong suit, I feel like I could—”

“UNICORN!” Ian suddenly shouted in panic.

“Wait, ‘unicorn’ doesn’t rhyme with—”

“No! There are unicorns right in front of us! And they’re blocking our way!”

Barley’s eyes returned to the road and realized to his horror that his younger brother was right. There were several dirty, stray unicorns standing in their path! The vermin were using their teeth to pull on some overgrown weeds to eat—and if they didn’t move out of the way soon, Guinevere the Second was going to run over them, or worse!

“Barley! Stop! Brake! Steer! Do something!” Ian cried.

At that moment, the older elf punched his foot on the brake pedal to stop the van from going any further. But driving over another big bumpy rock on the road, the brothers felt a huge lurch underneath them, which made their means to a stop useless. Then landing back on the rocky surface, which now felt more rockier and bumpier than ever, it seemed Guinevere would only keep going. With how much she weighed, combined with the speed she was going at on the uneven road, Barley was sure the van was going to ram right into those unicorns at any moment.

“Gwen’s not stopping!” he panicked, then leaning in on the dashboard and whispering to his mighty steed, the older Lightfoot pleaded, “I know you’re a horse at heart, girl, but please stop! Those unicorns are gonna wound you!”

As Guinevere the Second got herself closer and closer to the unicorn pack, the creatures in question soon looked up and noticed what was approaching them. Scowling one by one, the stubborn unicorns formed as one big group and turned their horns towards the van in self-defense. If she was planning to attack, then they would attack her, too, without any way to get around.

Seeing each event unfold at once, Ian knew that it was all up to him at this point to get himself, his brother, and Guinevere out of this situation. But he wasn’t sure what to do. Just a few minutes ago, he was hesitant about song lyrics. But now he, Barley, and the mighty steed were coming up against a real obstacle!

Take a step forward, and you won’t take another step, Gedeon’s words echoed in Ian’s mind.

The gremlin had said those words when he’d shapeshifted into a unicorn. When he cornered the younger elf with his own horn and threatened to stab his former protégé in the neck. But Ian wasn’t about to let that happen to his brother’s beloved second van. Not while they still had time.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” the younger Lightfoot said aloud. Removing his seat belt, Ian made his way towards the back of the van. Then he pulled out his chain necklace from underneath his shirt and removed his tiny wizard staff. Holding it straight out, he declared, “Magnora Gantuan!”

Turning around to face his brother, Barley began to ask, “what are you—”

“Just unroll the windows and hold on tight!” Ian instructed, then jabbing the base of his fully grown staff onto the floor of their van, he pointed it upwards and recited, “Avi Volanta!”

At that moment, beams of magic shot out from the young wizard’s staff and swirled around the inside of the van. Then they made their way to the outside just as Barley had completely unrolled both front seat windows. The flowing streams of the incantation next encircled the wheels, then the mirrors, until finally, the entirety of Guinevere the Second was surrounded by magic!

Before either Lightfoot brother knew it, Ian’s spell began to lift the van up into the air just as a single unicorn’s sharp horn was about to put a dent in her bumper! Instead of maiming his prey, the lead unicorn face-planted onto the underdeveloped path, with his hind legs dangling up into the air! From the ground, the wretched creatures watched angrily as the van flew away unharmed.

Simultaneously, Ian kept his spell going from the back of Guinevere the Second, while Barley cheered on his younger brother’s brave success.

“HA-HA! YEAH! Flight Spell! Way to go, Ian!”

“Yeah...you-you’re welcome!” the younger Lightfoot said with a grimace. He was struggling to maintain the spell with how heavy the mighty steed was with just himself lifting it. But somehow, the elf wizard believed he could manage.

“Hey...this gives me a grand idea for our next verse!” Barley said. “We’re having a heck of a time, flying through the air...inside our pegasus...Guinevere!”

“The Second!” Ian added.

“But of course!”

As the younger elf continued to float the van, the older elf soon had another idea that didn’t involve words at all.

“Hey, Ian, look! No hands!” he shouted joyfully, taking his hands off the steering wheel and stretching them out on either side of him. “WOOHOO!”

But to his carelessness, this caused Guinevere the Second to abruptly veer off from the brothers’ path!

Even at the back side of the van, Ian noticed this change right away. “Whoa, Barley! Eh...I...eh...I can’t...eh...control...eh...all of...eh...Guinevere the Second!”

To make matters worse, with now even more control over the vehicle, the younger Lightfoot was beginning to feel very weak. Therefore, with his magic draining, the van was also beginning to sharply descend to the ground!

Now enduring a real rollercoaster, both brothers began to scream, “AAAAAH!”

Then Ian shouted, “BARLEY, HANDS ON THE WHEEL!”

But even with both of the older Lightfoot’s hands now on the wheel, Guinevere the Second was still plummeting to their doom!

“SORRY! Maybe I shouldn’t have let go!” Barley shouted back. “IAN, FLY US UPWARD!”

“I’m trying—WHOA!” But accidentally tripping on something—a soda can, a piece of cosplay, whatever it was—Ian fell forward as he continued to hold his staff up in front of him. “Ow...”

Barley’s eyes were drawn on the forthcoming ground ahead of them. If his brother didn’t lift Guinevere again soon, they would all be done for!

“IAN...” he yelled worriedly.

The younger elf knew he just couldn’t give up. Rather, he needed to get back up! For their quest, for the S.S. Medallion, and for the fate of their realm.

“Come on, Ian, focus...” the young wizard muttered to himself as he unsteadily got back up on his feet. Though wobbling from the turbulence of their drop, he mustered all of the strength he could, got into position and proclaimed, “Aloft Elevar!”

Soon enough, Guinevere the Second was no longer plunging downward. Instead, she was now floating straight up in midair—just a few feet above the ground. Ian then slowly descended her to the earth, with all four of her tires touching the overgrown grass beside the path. Though the brothers were a couple meters away from their trail, the younger elf figured Barley could easily get them back onto it no problem. With their safe landing accomplished, Ian finally fell back towards the floor again—sweating and exhausted.

“You okay?” Barley asked him, concerned.

“Yep...I’m good...” the younger Lightfoot said, though he was still panting hard from the effort.

The older elf decided to park the van. Then getting out of his own seat, he rushed over to the back. Opening his cooler, he grabbed a can of Mountain Doom soda and handed it to his brother.

“Here. Drink this. It’ll help you get your energy back.”

Taking it, Ian guzzled the soda, and in an instant, he was refreshed. “Thanks,” he said, putting the can down.

Kneeling next to the younger elf, Barley didn’t know what to say next. While he thought letting go of the steering wheel would be fun, he was now realizing that he could’ve gotten himself, his brother, and his mighty steed very hurt.

“Sorry...you said to hold on tight...letting go, that was, uh...that was really dangerous on my part...”

“No, it’s okay,” Ian assured, then he beamed. “Actually, that felt really exciting!”

“It was?”

“Yeah! But I have another idea...”

The younger Lightfoot then got up and sat back down in the passenger seat with his wizard staff.

“What is it?” Barley asked as he joined his brother.

“Well, you have to start driving again first!”

“You got it, Sir Iandore.”

So the older Lightfoot restarted Guinevere the Second’s engine, then veered off the grass, and got himself and his brother back onto the unpaved road in no time. Thankfully, it was now anything but completely rocky.

“Okay, so...what’s your idea?” he asked eagerly.

Without saying a word, Ian reached his hand over to the steering wheel, and pressed on its center—producing a loud honk.

“Beep the horn, of course!” the younger elf finally answered as he leaned back in his chair again.

Barley smiled. His brother was having fun at last. It made the older elf feel accomplished. So he pressed his own hand on the wheel, too, and let out another couple honks of his own.

“Yeah-hah-hah! Now that’s what I call a victory beep, beep, honk, honk! No malicious unicorn could standeth in our path and halt us from our quest! Oh! And let us not forget, the amazing magic, of Sir Iandore of Lightfoot! Who just made Guinevere fly...afoot!”

“Two ‘foots’? Really?” Ian inquired.

“Hey, I already told you I wasn’t good at this!” Barley acknowledged. “But hey, we’re together on this quest, all for one and one for all, right?”

“Yeah, with me catching you when we fall,” the younger Lightfoot said with a laugh, but then he realized, “wait a minute...that rhymes!”

“See, you’re totally better at this than me! But that’s a good point.”

“Nah, that was just a fluke.”

“Unlike running into those unicorns, then letting go of this wheel, and falling,” the older Lightfoot argued, then he shivered. “Wouldn’t want to go through that again...”

“Or ever...”

“Together forever?”

“There you go!” Ian said joyously at Barley’s new impromptu rhyme. “See, you’ve totally got this.”

“Okay, perhaps I do...to some degree...now, let us conclude this fair chant of ours, shall we, young mage? If you ask me, it’s getting plentiful now.”

“Sure, I mean...it can’t go on for the rest of our lives, right? So, how do we end it?”

“The best way to end a great questing chant is for each of us to shout out the members of our fellowship...which is simple ’cause...that’s us!”

“Okay then,” the younger elf nodded.

“I’ll start...Barley! Your turn...”

“Uh...Ian!”

“Oh, and don’t forget Gwinny, too!”

“Right! Guinevere two...erm...”

“Gwinny two will take us through...and soon we’ll be...towards our vic-tor-y!” the older elf proudly finished.

“Nice!”

With the final word done, the older Lightfoot brushed off some sweat he felt dripping from his forehead. “Phew! That was a lot of work...but we did it! Was yond excitement a pleasure to thou, Sir Iandore?”

“Yeah, it-it kinda was,” Ian said, cracking a smile.

He had to admit, while he thought this whole chanting thing was just another one of Barley’s silly games, it did take his mind off of all that had gone wrong this week. It was also yet another unorthodox way for him to practice his spellcasting. The younger Lightfoot knew one thing for sure—he was going to need all of the practice he could get before heading into Dangarnon to find Gedeon.

“So...how much farther do we have to go?” he then asked.

“I’m not sure,” the older elf answered.

Both brothers gazed out at the view in front of them and could see now that the sun was setting fast. The sky had become a purply-pink, with some dark purple clouds mixed in between. It would soon be completely dark, which both Barley and Ian knew was going to make it hard for them to spot uncharted territory.

“It’s getting dark,” the older Lightfoot finally addressed. “Which means we’re definitely not going to be heading into Dangarnon until morning.”

Ian did not like the sound of that. “Huh? Why?”

“Honestly, it’s for the best. I mean, we’ve had a long day, and on a quest, resting is a necessity to continue forth strong and mighty.”

“Yeah, I guess...” Ian said, somewhat disappointed, then unfolding the road map of the Western Realm, he said, “I’m going to check the map and see where we are.”

The younger elf drew his index finger along the path to Dangarnon, where it ultimately led to the mountain range the Manticore had told him and Barley about. “There’s a straight row of mountains before the forest that’s just outside the village. They’re going to come up on our left...and...they’re surrounded by a bunch of other mountains. How are we going to get around them?”

Barley squinted his eyes, then pointed. “Yes, I see them! There in the distance!”

The mountains were just about a mile away, straight ahead of the brothers’ route. But there weren’t any signs that led to getting by them. Not that either Ian or Barley were expecting it. No other road sign had come up for them yet since exiting the expressway.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re going to hit a dead end?” Ian asked aloud.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I’m looking at this map, and it looks like by the time we reach the mountains, our path will go off course and lead us away from the Untold Caverns! So if we stay on it, we’ll be going through this entire mountain range, and be in this maze of mountains for...who knows how many days! There’s got to be a faster way to get to this area than going through all those mountains...”

“Hang on, I’m going to pull over and look at this map myself,” Barley said as he veered Guinevere the Second to the side of the unpaved road.

“Wow, you’re actually...stopping?” Ian asked, surprised.

“Look, I know you want to get to Dangarnon as quickly as possible, but—”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just...I always thought you were the, uh...multitasking type, you know...driving and looking at other things while driving...”

“Yeah, well, making sure we get to uncharted territory the right way is worth stopping for.”

Barley put Guinevere to a stop, then peering over to look at the map, he realized just what his brother was talking about.

“Mmm, yeah, I see what you mean...well, no way are we going through all those bad boys,” he said, making note of the mountains that went along the rest of their marked path.

Next, he pointed to where the Untold Caverns were marked on the map and circled the blank space next to it that represented Dangarnon.

“We wanna go here.”

Then he eyed the single row of mountains that Ian was also referring to that blocked the way to the landmark.

“What we gotta do is leave this road we’re on now and go through this single section of mountains somehow. Then we can halt at this forest that comes up after them here, and find ourselves a good resting spot for the night.”

“Okay, so, first things first, we gotta find a way off this path and onto those mountains, but how?” Ian pondered. Then both he and Barley became silent as they each tried to think of a solution to their latest obstacle. This was a major roadblock that they had to overcome one way or another before it got too late in the evening.

As Barley thought about it, he noticed Ian’s regular-sized wizard staff resting beside his brother. It made his gears turn.

“I’m going out to stretch,” he told the younger Lightfoot, who nodded.

The older elf then got out of the van, and walked a few feet away to get a view of the mountains he and his brother were supposed to get around. He was sure he’d found them when not too far away, there was a single line of mountains dead on his left—just like the map had pictured!

Soon an idea fully formed in Barley’s head. “Ian! Come out here! I know what we need to do!”

The younger elf got out of Guinevere the Second with his wizard staff and joined his brother.

“See those mountains?” Barley pointed.

“Yeah? Are those the ones we need to get across?”

“Yes, they are, young mage. So here’s what I’m thinkin’...I know it was hard for you to handle, but...do you think you could cast your Flight Spell on Guinevere again? I feel like that could get us over the mountains without a moment to spare!”

“A second time? Gosh, I don’t know, Barley. I—”

“I’ll hold onto the wheel this time.”

“No, I’m sure you will. I-I believe you, I just...remember what the Manticore said about gremlins practically feeding on airplanes? I’m pretty sure Guinevere is no different if she flies in the air like one. She’s got engines, wires, and gears in her like a plane does. If she flies, don’t you think the gremlins would see us? I mean, we are getting close to them now.”

“Well, have we seen any gremlins out here yet?”

“No, but...that’s because they attack in the darkness. It’s getting dark now, and they could very well be past those mountains!”

“Well, we won’t know that unless we try.”

“But Barley, Gedeon was literally under Guinevere the other day! Then he had one of his clones go after her, remember?” Soon Ian felt the memory of that afternoon flow through him jaggedly, and he began to pace. “Now I know why he was so into her...he-he wanted to dismantle her right then...a-as another scheme to get the medallion from us...fr-from me...I-I just can’t believe I didn’t—”

“IAN! DON’T OVERTHINK IT! THAT’S ALL IN THE PAST!” the older Lightfoot abruptly snapped. “We are here NOW, with an obstacle of mountains ahead of us, and we need your Flight Spell to get over them!”

The younger Lightfoot stopped and stared right at his brother, wide-eyed and speechless. Barley’s sudden rage began to make his heart sink. It was as if the history-obsessed, magic-loving, risk-taking elf had now gone back to telling him what to do. It frightened him.

His signs of discomfort soon became clear to Barley. So the older elf loosened up, then gently said to his brother, “Ian, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t...I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s fine, Barley,” the younger elf said sadly. “I’ll do the spell...it’s-it’s not a problem.” Then turning away and walking back towards the van, he sighed and said, “come on, let’s go.”

Barley stood there for a moment, feeling regret about exploding at his brother like that. He really didn’t know what had come over him. It was like somehow—out of nowhere—he was acting on instinct, yet not in the same way he ever had before. The older Lightfoot didn’t know what it was exactly, but he had a feeling of what it could be. All he knew was, it had definitely stemmed from the care he had for his little brother.

Noting the sad look on Ian’s face as he got inside Guinevere the Second, Barley felt like the young wizard was upset about something more than just Gedeon deceiving him, the older elf just didn’t know what. But now that he and Ian were back together again, he wanted nothing more than to be there for his brother.

Soon the older Lightfoot joined Ian inside the van and noticed the younger Lightfoot’s hands shaking nervously as he held his wizard staff in his lap.

With an inhale in and an exhale out, Barley quietly said to him, “look, little bro, I mean it. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to get so angry at you. That was dumb. I guess what I meant to say back there was...you have so much potential and a wonderful gift. You’re very lucky to have it. Many people dream of having magic like you.”

There was a pause, but the younger elf didn’t have any words for his older brother’s apology.

Barley sighed. “You know, you don’t have to, but...if there’s something bothering you, I want to help. Otherwise...I think I have something else in mind that might assist us in getting across those mountains.”

Ian perked up slightly. “What is it?”

“Now, you’ll still have to do the Flight Spell,” the older elf said as he searched through his box of cassette tapes. “But I can assure you that this will help boost your confidence again.”

Pulling out a tape titled Heroic Epic, Barley stuck it into the tape deck. Then pressing play, the speakers began to play heroic, questing music.

“Our chant, dear Lightfoot! If it helped thee before, it’ll surely help thee again. But this time, with MUSIC!”

The young wizard found himself confused again. “Another one? But didn’t we just—”

“No, no, the one we just did! Our ‘Chant of the Lightfoot Brothers’!”

“Oh, okay, well...w-we do bring up flying in our song...” Ian remembered. “And we do have lyrics...”

“Exactly! So let us go forth and chant, and make our way to those mountains, Sir Iandore! Whaddya say?”

“I say...let’s do this!”

“That’s the spirit! Now, off we go!”

Moving the gearshift from Park to “Onward!” once more, Barley drove Guinevere the Second off the unpaved road, and towards the row of mountains.

“Together now, Sir Iandore!” Barley exclaimed, and the Lightfoot brothers began their chant.

They sang in unison, “we’re heading on our quest, the medallion we must retrieve, the Lightfoot Brothers can’t be stopped, because we believe.”

“Your turn!” Barley commanded his brother.

“I couldn’t believe I was so naive...”

“To trust a wizard who loves to thieve.”

“But that wasn’t my fault, I must perceive...”

“This gremlin is one who likes to deceieeeeeeeeve!”

“Yeah, he certainly is,” Ian concurred, then he sang, “this chant that we’re conceiving...”

“It is kind of relieving...” Barley continued.

“It’s for sure a good distraction...”

“We’re forming a chain reaction!”

“Oh, yeah, we are!” Ian said with a grin.

But before either brother could chant the next line, Barley cut in and cried, “Sir Iandore of Lightfoot! Here come the mountains! Prepare thy spell!”

Driving straight towards the mountains, Guinevere the Second was about to run into a rocky wall that would leave the Lightfoot brothers dead in their tracks if they didn’t get up in the air soon.

“I’m on it!” Ian said at once.

Pushing the switch on the side of his seat, he moved it backwards so that he’d have enough room to cast his spell while also enjoying the ride this time. Without any more hesitation, he jammed his staff into the floor, and pointed towards the sky.

After a small inaudible, “here we go...,” the younger Lightfoot then proclaimed, loud and proud, “Avi Volanta!”

Same as before, rays of glowing magic spewed from Ian’s wizard staff, and made their way out of the van. Enclosing her completely, the magic had once again given Guinevere the Second the ability to fly, and soon she was rising above the walls of the mountains!

“Woohoo! Well done, Ian!” Barley cheered, which in return put a grin on Ian’s face. “See! The power of song CAN boost confidence! Now, keep thy spell going, co-pilot, for we have mountains to soar over!”

“Sure thing, Sir Barley. Just make sure to keep your hands on the wheel at all times. ’Tis not a proper flight if we don’t do this together.”

“Nay a problem because...we’re having a heck of a time, flying through the air!”

“Inside our pegasus, Guinevere!”

“The Second!”

“Right!”

“And let us not forget, about the amazing magic, of Sir Iandore of Lightfoot!” Barley sang in his medieval gusto.

“Who is making Guinevere the Second fly afoot! WHOA!” the younger elf chanted along as he tried managing his spell. He and his brother were now just over the mountain peaks.

“We’re together on this quest, all for one and one for all!” Barley continued.

“And catching you in case you fall!” Ian added.

“A good point, young mage, wouldn’t want to go through that again...”

“Or ever!”

“Together forever?”

“That’s better! Gee, this is a lot of rhyming for the two of us...”

“Indeed, it is,” Barley agreed, then he happily gasped. “Hey, look! I see the forest! Straight ahead!”

From where they were up in the air, it wasn’t a huge forest, but there were a moderate amount of trees that seemed plenty for the brothers and their van to take refuge in for the night without being noticed.

“In that case, let’s come in for a landing!” Ian proposed as he steered Guinevere the Second towards a small clearing.

“And close our chant!” Barley added.

“Right!”

“Barley!”

“Ian!”

“Oh, and don’t forget Gwinny, too!”

“Of course!”

“Now, together to the end, dear brother of mine!”

And the two Lightfoot brothers chanted, “Gwinny two will take us through, and soon we’ll be...towards our VIC-TOR-Y!”

With their chant complete once more, the brothers laughed in delight as Ian ceased his Flight Spell, and carefully landed Guinevere the Second inside the clearing and on the ground.

They had arrived.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 24 ◊

Between Rocks and a Hard Place

It was no secret that even amongst the trees in the woods that nighttime had finally caught up to the Lightfoot brothers. But they were lucky, because for the moment, they were exactly where they needed to be.

“Ha-ha! We made it!” Barley said in elation as he jumped out of Guinevere the Second. Then he let out some groans as he stretched every one of his limbs front to back.

Seconds later, Ian exited the van himself and pretty much did the same thing. Once he was done, he asked, “so...now what?”

“Now we make camp,” Barley answered. “First, we needeth a fire!”

The younger Lightfoot noticed his brother staring right at him, which made him dart his eyes side to side. “Uh...why are you looking at me?”

“On a quest, the perfect campfire only needs three things,” the older elf explained as he held up three fingers, then sequentially held them up one at a time. “A wizard, a wizard staff, and...a Fire Spell.”

Now rolling his eyes and making a smirk, Ian had picked up exactly what his brother was putting down. “Sure, Barley, I’ll make a fire for us, but...I think we’re going to need more of a foundation first. You know...rocks, sticks...those sorts of things...so we don’t start a forest fire or something.”

“But of course, young mage! For that would be irresponsible. I concur a secure fire is just what we need. Come, let us seek out these objects at once!”

So Barley and Ian split up, and searched around the forest surrounding their clearing for the materials they sought to make their campfire. They each found a multitude of dead sticks nearby for not only their fire, but for roasting their food as well. But in contrast, what they both equally had trouble finding were rocks.

“This won’t do,” Ian said as he picked up a tiny pebble. Releasing it from his hand, he then picked up and dropped some more that looked identical. “Nope. Uh-uh. Too small,” he muttered with each unqualified choice.

Barley, on the other hand, was practically in the same boat as his brother. “Found any rocks yet?!” he called from several feet away.

“Not yet!” the younger elf called back. He then kicked the pebbles he’d just found with his foot in frustration and began to move away from where he was looking. He decided to traverse through his part of the forest a little more in hopes of finding what he and his brother wanted elsewhere. As he did, he complained, “this is ridiculous! All we need are some decent-sized rocks for a simple campfire! Is that so much to ask?”

Soon Ian’s sight had caught onto several patches of moss that were grown on the trees. Then he noticed and felt more of it just below where his shoes had touched the soil. He could see that there was certainly more moss around here in comparison to any rocks.

The younger Lightfoot’s gears began to turn at this fact and how maybe he could use it to his advantage as he walked over to one of the trees, and tore off a piece of moss from it. Looking over the flowerless green plant from all sides, he then heard Gedeon’s voice come into his mind again.

If a wizard can master the hardest spell in the book, they can certainly master the others! So...why can’t you?!

Ian frowned. He knew he just had to fix this, just as he was able to fix the drive here with his Flight Spell. What he saw from all of this moss was a solution that he believed could solve everything.

◊ ◊ ◊

Returning to the clearing, Ian brought with him as much moss as he could possibly carry, and set it down near where he and Barley had marked the place for their campfire. Then after grabbing his wizard staff, which rested beside Guinevere the Second, he reached for the Quests of Yore guidebook that lay on his seat in the van, and searched through its pages as he made his way back over to the moss clumps.

Moments later, Barley came back from his own search, and walked up to his brother. “I hate to say this, Sir Iandore, but there don’t seem to be any big enough rocks in this forest.” He then noticed the moss pile next to Ian. “What is all that?”

“Moss,” the young wizard answered as he continued looking for the right page in the guidebook.

“Okay...but why? Moss isn’t going to help keep our fire in one place.”

“No, but it will help us to create our rock barrier.”

“I don’t get it...how will they—”

Just then, Ian found the very page he was looking for and proudly showed it to his brother. “With this! The Stone Spell! I could turn these clumps of moss into rocks, and then we’ll have rocks to contain our fire!”

The older elf made a grin. “I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I like your thinking, young mage!”

“Why, thank you.” Peering at the page of the Stone Spell, Ian then mumbled to himself, “okay, let’s see...Stone Spell...incantation...‘Petrifor’...” Then he began to pace around as he quietly read aloud the rest of the instructions on the spell page. “Okay, ‘aim your staff at the subject...draw a circle in the air...bring staff down hard to the ground...and recite.’”

After reading the words over, the younger Lightfoot closed the guidebook, and set it down beside his feet. With only his wizard staff in hand, Ian then made his way over the moss he’d just collected. After separating a single clump of moss from the pile, the younger elf shifted his weight, then did as the book told him to do.

Aiming at the moss, he proclaimed, “Petrifor!”

But only a tiny spark of magic appeared from his staff, and all it did was break the moss into pieces.

“Try again,” Barley encouraged as he saw this happen.

Ian nodded, then placed another clump of moss in front of him, and did the spell again. “Petrifor!”

However, just like the last time, the moss shattered. The younger elf repeated the incantation several more times after that, with more and more individual clumps of moss. But like the previous two times, all each moss bit ended up doing was crumble into pieces, which began to irritate Ian the more times it happened.

“Ugh! Why isn’t this working?!” he complained. He knew he was saying the incantation right. Not even his brother questioned that. So what was he doing wrong?

The young wizard was about to reach for the Quests of Yore guidebook again and open it back up to the Stone Spell page, but Barley intervened. “No need, Ian. This may have been your idea, but I still know every magic decree by heart, and I know that for this one, you need to have courage. Otherwise, the rocks you attempt to create will...erm, break...”

“Great!” Ian said with vexation, throwing his arms up into the air. Then crossing them, he furrowed his brows in disappointment. Not only because he kept on failing the spell, but he was also simply disappointed in himself.

The younger elf needed courage, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. He wasn’t feeling very courageous at the moment. Not with everything that had happened to him up until now. He then realized from shifting his eyes downward that there was only one clump of moss left beside him. Picking it up, Ian decided that he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m going to get more moss,” he said in sorrow, then making his way over to Guinevere the Second, the younger elf opened her back doors, climbed inside, and found one of his brother’s satchels.

“Want me to come with you?” Barley offered, peering inside the van.

“No, that’s okay. I got this,” Ian assured as he jumped out of the vehicle, carrying the satchel across his person. Then he walked in the direction where he’d last spotted the flowerless plants.

But the older elf noticed that Ian had left his wizard staff behind. Rushing it up to his brother, he asked, “aren’t thee going to take thy staff?”

“I don’t think I need magic to find and carry moss, Barley. It’s pretty light.”

“True, but...the sky isn’t.”

Ian gazed upward. The sky was now becoming a blueish-black, which had made the surroundings around him and his brother increasingly darker than they were minutes ago. They were running out of time.

“I guess I was just thinking...” Barley added. “Since you seem to be struggling with the Stone Spell, maybe...going back to an easy one, like say...the Light Spell will help you find your way through the darkness, and give you time to practice overpowering gremlins. They have a weakness for light, after all.”

Ian thought his brother was onto something. Going back to the basics did sound like a good approach to fully mastering a master spell, especially if it would help him fight Gedeon and other gremlins if necessary.

“You’re right,” the younger elf said as he finally took his wizard staff from Barley’s grasp, then turning back in the direction where the moss was located, he recited, “Luxia!”

The incantation instantly brought about a sphere of light that lit the way for the elf wizard. Then he stepped forward with his staff in front of him, and left the clearing, with Barley watching him close behind.

“Be careful!” the older Lightfoot advised.

“I will,” Ian said, not looking back.

In a matter of seconds, the younger Lightfoot was deep enough into the woods that Barley could no longer see him. But the older elf had the utmost faith that Ian would find a lot more moss for his Stone Spell, and would surely get it right when he returned.

◊ ◊ ◊

Walking through the dark forest—with only a magical orb of light as his guide—Ian was able to find exactly which way he’d come from based on the footprints his sneakers had left in the soil just minutes ago. Soon the younger elf was back in the place where he’d located the moss, and where he’d rejected the pebbles that were too small for his and his brother’s fire. There were still plenty of moss clumps left on the surrounding trees and atop the soil. But his Light Spell was beginning to fade, and soon that would mean he wouldn’t have any light to see anything! Unfortunately for the younger Lightfoot, it was just one of those spells where he had to repeat the incantation every minute or so in order to keep it going.

“Luxia!” Ian proclaimed, and shortly his light was now brighter than it was before.

Then he got to work collecting more moss for a proper Stone Spell. He crouched down to the ground and gathered clumps, which he then placed inside his satchel. Bit by bit, the younger elf began to assemble a new collection of moss. As he did, he assured himself that a good portion of these lucky clumps would be able to give him and Barley enough rocks for their campfire.

As Ian picked the moss, the forest around him had only made typical sounds of ambience. Until suddenly, out of the blue, he thought he heard something strange.

“Ian...”

The younger Lightfoot looked up, spooked. But then he heard it again.

“Ia-a-a-an...”

Ian stood up and gazed at his surroundings, feeling his heart pound fast inside his body. He put down the moss he’d just picked up and used both his hands to hold his wizard staff protectively.

“Who-who said that?” he finally asked out loud.

“Ian...” the voice called out again, this time in a specific direction only elf ears could catch.

The young wizard turned his head in that direction, but didn’t hear anything more after several seconds.

“I...I must be hearing things,” he tried to assure himself, running his fingers nervously through his curly blue hair.

Ian didn’t think his paranoia would turn out this bad. But he figured it had, yet he also felt it was distracting him from his task. After shaking his head, the teenage elf knelt down to grab the moss he’d just dropped. Then he resumed to collect even more in the direction where he thought he heard the voice that was seemingly calling to him.

Ian picked and picked more clumps, until he grabbed a piece from what he simply thought was a mound in the soil. But as he plucked it out, the younger Lightfoot let out a gasp when he soon realized that he’d really just snatched some from a rock! An actual rock! A rock worthy of a campfire!

All at once, Ian dropped every single moss clump he’d gathered again, and put his free hand on the rock.

“Shamblefoot’s Flute! This is...this is perfect!” he said excitedly. “Now if only there were—”

But the teenage elf stopped himself short as he slowly gazed up, and noticed a second rock a few feet away from the one he’d just found. So he got up, and sauntered over to it. But soon he realized that behind it was a third rock, then a fourth, and a fifth! There was an entire path of rocks!

“More...” a dumbfounded Ian said, finishing his earlier thought. He began to frown. Where did all of these rocks come from? They weren’t there minutes ago. The younger elf could’ve sworn that he would’ve noticed them.

As he tried to figure it out, his sharp ears heard it again.

“Ian...”

It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“That voice...” the young wizard whispered to himself. He was beginning to think that he wasn’t just hearing things after all.

“Come...follow the rocks...” the voice said.

“Follow the rocks?” Ian questioned.

“Follow the rocks, Ian...follow them...follow me...”

The younger Lightfoot looked behind him, eyeing the way back to the clearing and his brother where it was safe. Then he stared back at the passage of rocks in front of him, and contemplated on that voice. He’d never heard it anywhere else before. It sounded mystical and gruff. But he had also heard from legends past of ghostly voices in the forest that would often lead wanderers to their destiny, but he didn’t think that they were real. Yet Ian knew that the only way to find out where this voice was coming from, and where these ideal rocks came from, was to follow them and see where they led. Despite knowing his curiosity had led him to trouble all this week, the teenage elf just had to know. It was probably important.

So Ian reignited his Light Spell, and cautiously began to walk along the line the rocks had made. Step by step, his heart beat faster and his breath became shakier with each rock he passed, wondering where they were taking him. But the trail wasn’t long as seconds later, he found the last rock in the path amongst an assortment of even more reasonable rocks—all in front of a large flowery bush.

Ian was confused. Why would a mystifying, gravelly voice and a path of rocks lead him here? And why were rocks suddenly appearing out of nowhere in the first place?

“Wh-what? What is this?” he asked aloud. Then walking closer to the rocks in the front, he knelt down, and picked one up. “Something’s not right...”

Suddenly, a new rock rolled out from underneath the bush, and the young wizard recoiled as it stopped right before him. Soon another one was thrown right through the bush, and it landed directly in front of his feet! The mysterious appearance of every one of these rocks—not to mention the chilling voice he was hearing—was really beginning to make Ian nervous. But it didn’t end there.

In seconds flat, more and more rocks appeared through the bush, all of which landed in front of the teenage elf—with some of them even almost hitting him!

“Wh-whoa! Wait a minute! What—” Ian stammered.

The amount of rocks began to overwhelm him. So much so that he didn’t even realize at first that his Light Spell was about to go out again! Soon it vanished completely, and the young wizard had found himself trapped in the darkness, with rocks still lunging right at him not knowing where they were going to land. After letting out a yelp from the lack of light, he suddenly tripped and fell backwards, landing in the dirt. But even still, more and more rocks kept coming out from this strange bush, attacking him, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop!

Petrified, Ian cried, “BARLEY!”

◊ ◊ ◊

Barley was outside setting up the sleeping bags from the backside of Guinevere the Second when he heard his younger brother yelling for him. He looked up, and turned his gaze towards the part of the forest where Ian was collecting more moss.

“Ian?” he let out with worry.

But when Barley didn’t hear any more cries from his brother, he frowned, then immediately climbed inside his van, and rummaged through his things. The first thing he located was his sword, then he grabbed his phone, turned on its flashlight, and raced towards the forest without a second thought.

“Ian, I’m coming!” he shouted.

Running and stopping, Barley called out his brother’s name repeatedly.

“Ian? Ian?! IAN?!”

But when he didn’t hear a response, he continued running deeper into the forest towards where he thought he heard noise until he finally found Ian slumped on the ground without his Light Spell activated.

“Ian! Are you all right? What happened?” the older elf asked, running up to him with his sword and flashlight.

The younger Lightfoot was wide-eyed and hyperventilating. He almost didn’t hear Barley coming through. But as his older brother stood next to him, all he could do was blink rapidly, and run his fingers through his hair once more. “Uh, I...I-uh...”

Following Ian’s gaze, Barley noticed all of the rocks gathered in front of them. “Wha-hoa! Rocks! But...how did—” He turned to his brother and eyed the wizard staff that was no longer glowing light for the purpose of light. Putting two and two together, the older elf’s face soon read amazement. “Did you...do the Stone Spell?”

“Oh, uh...” Ian said, taken aback.

The younger elf didn’t know what to say. He was still frightened over what had just happened to him alone. But by the time Barley had arrived, he’d realized that dozens of rocks were no longer popping out of that strange flower bush like wildfire. Plus, there was no sign of that spooky voice he’d heard anymore, either.

“Well, uh, I...well, um...see, uh...” he continued with a trembling voice, then trying to crack a smile for his brother, he finished with, “y-y-yeah...I-I did.”

Barley’s surprise didn’t cease, and a relieved smile formed on his face. He knelt down next to his younger brother, and gave him a pat on the back. “See! What’d I tell ya? I knew you could do it. Guess a solo outing was all you needed to gather thy courage! Now, come on, let’s bring all these rocks back to camp. We’ve got a fire to start!”

The older Lightfoot made his way over to the rocks as Ian picked himself up from the ground and brushed the dirt off his clothes. Then the younger elf used his Levitation Spell to lift as many rocks as he could from the magnanimous pile. Meanwhile, with his younger brother’s beams of magic lighting the way, Barley put away his phone and his sword, and picked up as many rocks as he could with his own bare hands.

Once the Lightfoot brothers believed they had gathered enough rocks, they made their way back to the clearing. On their way there, they passed through Ian’s moss spot, and Barley took notice of the clumps his brother had collected, then left behind.

“Are these extra?” he asked.

“Uh...yeah, they are,” the younger elf said. “Why?”

“You might’ve found yourself enough moss to create all of these rocks, Sir Iandore, but I’ve heard that dried moss is also useful for starting fires. Let’s take some of these back, too.”

“But aren’t your arms full?”

“Fret not, I have room,” Barley assured as he reached for some moss, and added it onto his pile.

“You know, I still have some in this satchel,” Ian said, opening it and showing more of the flowerless plants to his brother. “You really don’t have to—”

“Nonsense! The more moss the merrier!” the older Lightfoot said in excitement, then he began to walk ahead of his brother. “This fire is going to be awe-SOME!”

Ian sighed in guilt. He didn’t really want to lie to his brother about what had actually happened to him back there, but he felt like he had no choice. The last thing he wanted was for Barley to snap at him again like he’d done almost an hour ago. Instead, the younger elf wanted his older brother to be proud of him for his newfound courage. So that was how it was going to be.

◊ ◊ ◊

Arriving back at the clearing, the brothers walked over to their marked campfire area, where they used the rocks they’d found to create their enclosure, and utilized their two biggest ones for seats. Next, they placed their dry sticks and leftover moss within their rock wall. Finally, all that was left was the fire itself.

“Ready, aim, and fire,” Barley said, giving Ian the go-ahead.

The younger Lightfoot nodded, then positioning his staff over the fire pit, he recited the incantation, “Flame Infernar!”

And in a flash, a fire was created.

“Oh, yeah!” Barley cheered. “We have our Lightfoot men-made fire! A job well done made specially with the fiery heart of Sir Iandore of Lightfoot and his feats of magic! No match can match him.”

Ian felt his face go warm, and it wasn’t because of the fire he’d just created. He didn’t feel like he deserved all the credit, so he added, “yeah, but also, uh, Sir Barley’s, er...feats of strength and...um...cheerleading?”

“Works for me! Now, let us relax and eat! For I am once again...hungry.”

So the brothers gathered the food they had brought with them on their quest and placed them between their two rock chairs. They decided to eat their leftovers from the Manticore’s Tavern first. Ian placed his remaining set of griffin wings on his roasting stick, while Barley stuck his half-eaten boar steak on his own stick. Then they both roasted their meat over the flames.

“Man, I’m starving!” Barley said as he watched his steak cook in the fire, then he turned to Ian. “It’s lucky you were here to make this fire for us.”

“Yeah, of course,” Ian said, rotating his stick. “Hey, you know what this reminds me of?”

“What?”

“The old days.”

“Ah, yes. Back when we were wee, little ones, having our own little, wee adventures like we could be anything or do anything in the world, and now look at us! Here we are...on another epic quest!”

“Uh, actually, I meant the old, old days. You know...back when we didn’t have phones...or the internet...and we’re cooking over a fire instead of a stove.”

“Oh, right, gotcha, gotcha. Dang, I should’ve known that! I mean, I tried using my phone while you were out turning the moss into these rocks, and guess what? There is zero service out here! Zero! It makes sense, we’re out in the forest. No router or anything...it’s like we’re in limbo!”

As Barley went on with his usual rambling, a solemn Ian turned his gaze upward to the now completely dark and starry sky. From where he and his brother were sitting in the clearing, they could see the double moons—the big one and the little one—perfectly in the center. Bright and quarter-shaped. It was a peaceful view, but it just wasn’t peaceful enough to calm the chaos in the younger Lightfoot’s mind.

Once again, Ian had gone back to thinking and overthinking everything. He was certain it was never truly going to go away until he found Gedeon, the S.S. Medallion, and put them both in their rightful places once and for all. And if he didn’t do that by this weekend, he might as well be in this state of doom and gloom forever.

It was all so much to the younger elf that he didn’t hear Barley at first when the older elf tried to get his attention.

“Uh...young mage? Ian? IAN!”

“What?!” the younger Lightfoot shouted, snapping out of it.

“I think some of your griffin wings are burning...maybe you should—”

Now looking back towards the fire and his leftovers after what seemed like years, Ian began to panic. “Oh! Chantar’s Talon!”

Lifting the wings straight out of the flames, the younger elf blew rapidly on the ones that were burning all while Barley laughed hysterically at his brother’s expense.

“Forget...forget what I said...about the fire being well done, young mage...” the older Lightfoot said in the midst of his laughter. “I think that prize...goes to the griffins now...”

“Sorry, I, uh...got a little distracted...” Ian finally said after he finished blowing out the fire and waving the smoke away from his food.

“Hey, it happens.”

Now as hungry as his brother was, Ian took a bite from one of his burnt wings and went, “hmm, not bad...but definitely not doing that again!”

“Oh, come on! That was so funny!”

“For you, maybe.”

Barley began to sense the coming on of his brother’s sensitivity again. Though at the same time, the older elf couldn’t really tell. To him, it was either that Ian was acting peeved or being playfully sassy. Either way, Barley soon felt his face brighten as he figured out just the right, noble thing to say as the night got older by the minute.

“You know what? Today was a good day. We got to see the Manticore again, she told us what we needed to know, we made up our own chant, and now we’re this much closer to Dangarnon and getting the S.S. Medallion back. Isn’t that great?!”

“Yeah, it, uh...it sure is,” Ian said with a hint of apathy.

That didn’t seem to work. Barley thought maybe his brother was simply tired. After all, he had just listed what a long day they had together. It was definitely bedtime for the both of them after this. But then the older Lightfoot had another idea.

“Say, you know what’ll make this fire feast even better?” he asked.

“No, what?” Ian wondered. A part of him wasn’t sure why he even asked. His brother had always been full of surprises, but lately it seemed like the older elf’s surprises were more surprising than usual.

Barley reached behind him to grab something and what he pulled out was a gigantic plastic bag that couldn’t fit in the entirety of his large palm.

“Jumbo. Marshmallows,” he emphasized with pride.

Staring at the bag of sugar overload, Ian said to his brother, “you’re crazy. AB-solutely crazy.”

“Say what you will, young mage. But no Lightfoot brothers’ campout is complete without tasting one of these babies.”

As Barley handed Ian a single jumbo marshmallow, the younger Lightfoot took it with disgust and said, “if you say so.”

“Oh, I know so.”

After finishing their tavern leftovers, Ian and Barley stuck their marshmallows on their sticks and roasted them. The younger elf made sure not to burn what he was cooking this time by staring right at his marshmallow and nothing else. His mind really needed a break, anyway, and concentrating on something that needed concentrating was sure to get him to focus on what lay ahead for tomorrow. He observed as the gigantic, white, puffy, rounded cube toasted, its size seeming to get bigger as time passed. While he knew for a fact that it was because it was under heated circumstances, he didn’t want it to become so big that it would explode! He just knew how messy that would be. So when it seemed like there was enough golden brown to it, he lifted his marshmallow out, as did Barley, then they both dug right in their dessert.

Only one bite from the giant, now quickly melting marshmallow made Ian exclaim, “OH, MAN...SO SUGARY! Maybe I should’ve burned it...”

“Nothing’s stopping you, go for it!” Barley encouraged.

But as the older elf then opened his mouth as wide as he possibly could and stuck his entire marshmallow inside, Ian grimaced once more and said, “nah, I think I’ll pass. I’m pretty full.”

He watched as Barley chewed and chewed and chewed the big cube of sugar in his mouth, attempting to make it smaller with each bite. It was a long, hard process, but the older Lightfoot didn’t seem to care. To him, it was pure satisfaction.

Finally swallowing whole, Barley could talk out loud again. “Best dessert ever!”

His teeth had pieces of sticky marshmallow stuck in them. Ian could tell in the light of the campfire. It was a sure sign that they were in the wild all right. But more than that, he noticed his brother’s unwavering, cheerful disposition even in the darkest of hours from the way the older Lightfoot was also smiling.

“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” the younger elf said, darting his eyes downward.

“Do what?”

Ian didn’t answer at first. He was once again lost in his many thoughts.

“Do what?” Barley asked again. That time the younger Lightfoot heard him.

“Oh, uh...eat that gigantic piece of sugar whole!” Ian fibbed. “I-I could never.”

“Well, see, that’s the thing...you didn’t.”

“I know.” A glum Ian observed Barley reach for another jumbo marshmallow from the bag and put it on his stick. As his older brother roasted it in the fire, the younger elf stretched his arms up in the air, and said, “I’m out. I’m going to the van.” Then he got up, took his wizard staff, and went straight to Guinevere the Second without another word.

“I’ll meet you there in a little bit,” Barley said, looking up from the fire, and watching his brother leave. Yep, definitely tired, he thought to himself.

The older elf decided right then and there to stop making fun for Ian. It was abundantly clear to him at this point that the young wizard had been through enough action for one day.

◊ ◊ ◊

Inside Guinevere the Second, Ian could see the nice job Barley did setting up their sleeping bags for the night. Something they most certainly did not have on their last quest no thanks to the hurry they were in to resurrect their father.

The younger Lightfoot had kicked off his sneakers, sat on his sleeping bag of choice, and opened his phone. Barley was right. There was no service.

Without the internet for any decent company, Ian instead reached for his wizard staff and held it in his lap. He stared at the veins carved into its wood, and how they wrapped around the staff and gave it its personality and shape. It was a piece of his father, a piece of the staff he’d once wielded. For six months it had been all his, but with all that had happened this week, the young wizard wasn’t even sure if he was worthy of it anymore.

What would you have thought of what I let happen to the S.S. Medallion, Dad? he thought, in need of advice outside of his brother’s. What would you have done with it? What would you do?

Ian had these questions for his father running through his mind, until finally, Barley climbed inside the van, and closed the back doors behind him.

“I put the fire out so that it doesn’t spread all night,” he said. “We won’t need it tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay, cool,” Ian said in reply. He was still eyeing his staff out in front of him. But now that his brother was here, he figured it was definitely time to shrink it down for the day.

Getting up and sticking his staff out in front of him, the younger elf shrank it and put it back on his chain necklace.

Barley observed Ian do this and said, “hey—oh, man...”

“What?” the young wizard asked, looking at his brother.

“I think I just realized an easier way we could’ve gotten those rocks...”

“What’s that?”

“The Growth Spell,” the older Lightfoot disclosed.

Ian’s eyes widened at the prospect of that, and with it, a new multitude of thoughts flowed through his mind on what could’ve been. Among the rest of his overthinking, he was now beginning to think that lying to his brother might’ve been a mistake.

“There were just so many pebbles. All teeny tiny. But I guess you, uh, could’ve made them bigger, instead of, um...having to struggle with the Stone Spell...” Barley added with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, I...I guess I could’ve,” Ian said quietly as he rubbed his arm in guilt.

“But that doesn’t matter now, young mage. You accomplished thy Stone Spell with thy feats of practice and courage, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Instead of feeling proud, however, Ian just felt more guilty than ever before. It was all over his face. But Barley didn’t seem to notice as he turned away for a moment, stretching his arms out and yawning big.

“Man, I’m tired. We really should get some shut-eye. I advise we leave at dawn. That way, we’ll be in Dangarnon as soon as we can, just like you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Ian said as he climbed into his sleeping bag.

Barley soon joined the younger elf, with his head lying next to his brother’s feet, and vice versa. But Ian’s guilt felt so big that he thought it might blow up. He just had to say something. He just had to.

The younger Lightfoot raised his head a little. “Uh, Barley?”

“Yeah?” the older elf answered, lifting his own head.

But at the last moment, Ian just couldn’t do it. He saw that smile on his brother’s face and didn’t want to break it. Not this late, anyway.

So the younger elf sighed, then laid his head back down and said, “nothing. Never mind.”

Barley furrowed his brows slightly at that, then he set his head down, too. “Okay, well...sleep tight, Sir Iandore. We have a bigger journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we do. We sure do...”

The young wizard’s thoughts wandered from there. He just wanted today to be done, and for tomorrow to come and determine his fate like any other day.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian had his eyes closed, but he couldn’t sleep. All these voices kept coming back into his head, and they were all driving him crazy. From his own to Barley’s to Gedeon’s to even that strange voice in the forest that had called to him while he was gathering more moss. He knew for a fact that it wasn’t his own or from anyone else he knew for that matter. It wasn’t even his father’s. He knew his father’s voice just from listening to his tape millions of times. But if it wasn’t his father’s, then whose was it? Where did it come from? Why was it calling to him? And why did it lead him to a bunch of rocks that sought out to attack him?

He and his brother were near Dangarnon, and Dangarnon as far as he knew carried gremlins that loved to pull rotten tricks on other people. He thought maybe it was a gremlin that had called to him. A gremlin who wanted to scare him and bombard him with rocks! It seemed logical. Yet he and Barley needed those rocks for their campfire. They’d searched practically all evening for them! The idea that they appeared to be a gift was the really suspicious part. But to the younger Lightfoot, that still didn’t excuse the feeling of being led astray into something dangerous.

Ian tossed back and forth, thinking over this predicament, all the while trying to make himself comfortable—but it was no use. What he needed was sleep. He wanted so much to go to sleep. But he just couldn’t. Somehow, the younger elf just didn’t feel safe out here. He thought the seemingly nocturnal gremlins could be stalking around at any moment, planning an attack on Guinevere. And that once they did, he and Barley would have no way home, and Gedeon would figure out they were here. But finally, the younger Lightfoot figured if there were gremlins right outside the van, the best thing to do was to not move at all so that they wouldn’t suspect anything.

Doing that seemed to work as Ian’s eyelids eventually became more and more heavy with each passing minute. Soon, without realizing it, the younger elf became sound asleep under his sleeping bag. It really was just the thing he needed to escape from the grueling real world and into one of his own.

But as the younger Lightfoot fell deeper into his subconscious, his eyes tightened as he began to hear another voice calling to him.

“Ian? Hey, Ian, are you in there?”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 25 ◊

Buried Feelings

Heavy rain beat down. Millions of droplets touched a window, with a good number of them sliding down with the rhythm of the storm. Thunder and lightning lit up the sky as well, which added an arbitrary tempo next to the flood of raindrops.

It was nasty and wet outside. Not the perfect day to ride bikes, go swimming, or anything of that sort. But that didn’t stop a young Barley from wanting to play.

From outside the bedroom he shared with his little brother, Barley called out, “Ian? Hey, Ian, are you in there?”

But there was silence.

The older Lightfoot opened the door and peeked his head inside.

“Ian?” he said. “Want to build a fort in the living room with me?”

Once more, there was no answer. Just the continued ambience of rain.

“I got some pillows and blankets from downstairs, and I thought we could use some more from up here,” Barley added, inching more of himself into the bedroom.

He figured his brother had to be in here. The older elf couldn’t find him anywhere else in the house. Then using his ears, Barley thought he heard whimpering coming from Ian’s bed. He saw that there was a noticeable lump under the covers that looked like it was moving. He just knew who had to be under there.

“Ian?” Barley said, climbing onto the bed. Then lifting the covers up over his head, he found his little brother, who shrieked and looked scared. “What are you doing?” the older Lightfoot asked.

“I’m h-h-hiding!” a young Ian cried, hiding his head and hugging his knees.

“From what?”

“F-fr-from that!” Ian exposed a hand from under the bedding and pointed to the window.

“The rain?” Barley guessed.

“The boom thingy,” the younger elf corrected. But just as he said that, thunder clapped, and young Ian shrieked a second time as he hid under the bedspread again—completely covering himself from his big brother.

Finally, young Barley understood. He lifted the cover back up again to see his brother. “Ohhhhh, you mean the thunder and lightning, huh?”

Young Ian nodded slowly, still whimpering in fear. To Barley, it also looked like tears were forming in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Ian. It’s not going to hurt you. The thunder and lightning are out there. They can’t reach you in here.”

“But...but what if they do? I-I don’t want the thunder-y lightning to hurt me!”

“They won’t. I promise you, they won’t.”

But young Ian wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was hide. Hide until the loud thunder and the crackling lightning left him alone. But he felt like they wouldn’t, and that was why he was scared.

Young Barley could tell his brother wasn’t convinced. But soon his face brightened as an idea came to him. “Hey, I know what’ll protect you.” Then he turned for the door. “I’ll be right back!”

“Wait! Baw-ley! Don’t go!” Ian cried.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back faster than a centaur!”

While his brother was gone, young Ian went back to doing what he did when he was alone. He hid under the covers, wrapped his arms around his knees, and rocked himself back and forth. Then when the thunder decided to clap once more, he finally sunk his head in between his legs, and started crying. He never felt more frightened in all of his six-year-old life. He just wanted this all to go away.

Then about a minute later, the blanket young Ian was hiding under was taken off completely, and he let out a yell. But when he uncovered his eyes, and adjusted to the light, he saw to his relief that Barley had returned—with the pillows and blankets from downstairs.

“TA-DA!” young Barley announced. “Pillows and blankets for your protection, Sir Iandore! And...” He paused as he reached a hand in one of the blankets he’d brought up with him, then having found what he was looking for, the older Lightfoot added, “CHEESE PUFFS!”

“Yay! Food!” young Ian cheered, climbing off the bed and clapping his little hands together. But as the thunder crashed again, fear reignited in Ian. He dove right under one of the other blankets Barley had brought, and shook himself terrified once more.

Young Barley knew right then that helping his little brother was going to take more than just moving his fort activity to their room. So he knelt down and lifted the blanket. “Don’t be scared, Ian. I’m here now, and we can make this fort together! It’ll be fun!”

As the thunder and lightning continued to strike in the storm outside, Ian shook in fear some more. He also closed his eyes and used his hands to cover his ears, which made it difficult for Barley’s words of assurance to get through to him. But then young Barley had another idea.

Grabbing the cheese puffs, and scooching himself under the blanket, the older elf sat down right next to Ian and kept him company. Young Barley cupped his hands and sat quietly for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. Then it came to him. He puckered his lips, and began to whistle a comforting tune.

Young Ian felt Barley’s presence under the blanket with him and opened his eyes. Then he uncovered his ears as he thought he heard the sound of something soothing and melodious. Finally, he observed his brother whistling, and it put him in awe.

When young Barley finished his small song, he turned to see that Ian was no longer scared. No longer afraid. But most of all, he was curious.

“How did you do that?” young Ian finally asked.

Young Barley chuckled. “I’ve been practicing. Whenever I’m...feeling that same feeling you’re feeling, I whistle.” He then whistled another quick note. “And then I feel much better.”

Young Ian wanted to try and whistle, too. He wanted to be just like his big brother and not be scared anymore. So he did exactly what he saw Barley doing with his lips. But all that came out of the younger Lightfoot’s mouth was air.

“Try again! You can do it!” young Barley encouraged.

And again Ian tried, but still all that came out of his mouth was air.

“It’s not working!” young Ian complained, then he crossed his arms. “I’ll never be not scared...”

“It’s okay, Ian,” young Barley said, putting a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “You just need more practice. I would know, it took me forever to get it. But I know you’ll get it someday. I believe in you. Just don’t give up.”

A smile crept on young Ian’s face, then he decided to keep trying. It was all he could think about now. His fear of thunder and lightning was no longer important. But no matter how hard he tried, all the younger elf could do was blow. As disappointed as young Ian was that he couldn’t whistle, young Barley remained undeterred towards his brother’s progress. He was happy to see Ian’s willingness to try.

“You know what you’re making me think of?” the older Lightfoot asked with a laugh.

“What?”

“A dragon.”

“Dragons can’t whistle, either?” young Ian questioned.

“Ha-ha, no, but they sure can blow! I read in a storybook once that a long time ago, back when they were really big, dragons could blow really hard, really fast. They were so good at it that they could change the weather!”

“Really?”

“Really! So I was thinking, you could be a big dragon, too, and use your amazing blowing to blow the thunder and lightning away!”

“I can do that?”

“I say you can! Don’t let anyone or anything tell you you can’t!” Young Barley grabbed a part of the blanket and tossed it off from him and his brother, then he said to Ian, “now, go up to that window, and show that thunder and lightning who’s boss!”

“A-are you sure?”

“Do it,” the older elf said with confidence.

With that, young Ian marched right up to their bedroom window, climbed atop the window seat, and looked outside at the gray clouds and the rain that was coming down from them. It seemed less chaotic than it did just minutes ago. Ian wondered if maybe his attempts at whistling, when it was really just blowing, had worked from underneath the blanket! But second thoughts soon came to him when he and his brother heard another small clap of thunder outside. Ian flinched a little at that, but then he straightened himself again. He took a huge deep breath in, then with all of his might, he blew like the wind at the weather outside.

Lifting pillows, young Barley was not entirely sure if this would work in curing his little brother’s fear of thunderstorms. But he watched as Ian huffed and puffed, and blew as hard as he could at their bedroom window.

After a minute, young Ian stood on the window seat, and declared, “I’m not scared of you thunder-y lightning! You think you can scare me with how loud you are? Well, I have wind! So eat wind, stormy!”

Barley was impressed by his brother’s newfound courage. The older Lightfoot had made a strong blower out of him.

Soon young Ian’s little lungs got tired of blowing, so he got down from the window seat and went towards his brother. “How was that? Did I do it? Did I show the thunder-y lightning I’m not scared?” he asked excitedly.

“You sure did,” young Barley said with a smile, “and look! While you kept the rain at bay, I started to make our fort.” He turned to reveal some of the pillows stacked up as walls and blankets stretched out as roofs. He also began to incorporate both of their beds in the shelter, too.

“Wow! Baw-ley! This is awesome!” young Ian cheered. He wanted to run in and make himself at home, but young Barley stopped him.

“WHOA! It’s not finished yet!” the older elf warned. “Think you can help me build the rest of it?”

“Oh, yes, yes, YES!”

So young Ian and Barley got to work, finishing their fort together. They used blankets to make more walls, utilized the other pillows they had as rocks to keep their blanket walls in place, and finally, employed their stuffed animals and action figures as extra guards. In a matter of time, their epic fort was done.

“I hereby declare this fort...the Lightfoot brother fort!” young Barley said with pride.

“Yay! Now can I wun in it?” young Ian asked.

“It’s all yours!”

Without any hesitation, the younger Lightfoot dove into the fort screaming, “YAAAAAAAAAAY!”

Barley was happy to have made Ian happy, though a moment of worry struck him when he heard the thunder booming outside again.

He was about to rush in and protect Ian when his little brother came right out and shouted at the window, “hey! Thunder! Lightning! Leave our fort alone! This is the Lightfoot brother fort! And if you dare touch it, you’re gonna have to mess with ME!”

After taking another huge breath in, young Ian blew as hard as he could at the storm outside in an effort to get it to leave. When there was no response of either thunder or lightning, a satisfied Ian went back into the fort.

As it turned out, young Barley had nothing to worry about. He could very well see that his brother was no longer scared of lightning and thunderstorms. So with that, he laughed, then he joined Ian inside the fort. He sat right next to his little brother again with the bag of cheese puffs like they had under the single blanket minutes ago.

“That was amazing, Ian! I think the thunder and lightning might be scared of you now!”

“Really?”

“Really,” young Barley said, then he put an arm around his little brother. “You are the mighty dragon of this fort, and it is your duty to use your powerful blow to protect us from outside danger.”

At his big brother’s command, young Ian blew again. It made him feel great.

“Exactly! Blow like that, and you can blow all the evil thunder and lightning away!”

With Ian’s role in the fort established, young Barley opened the bag of cheese puffs, reached a hand inside it, and got out a piece. He then offered it to his little brother, and young Ian took it with a grin as the rainstorm continued outside.

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian opened his eyes with a gasp, then sat right up from his sleeping bag in a panic. He felt himself panting hard and sweating a little. He thought maybe it had something to do with that dream he just had. It felt so real. So vivid. So well-played out.

After taking a moment to calm down, the younger elf thought he felt something heavy on the opposite end of his sleeping bag. Peering at the view in front of him, he saw Barley—still asleep and sawing logs—only now the older elf had placed a big, comforting hand on his brother’s feet as his head rested beside them.

Ian smiled. Even while they were both dozed off, his older brother was there for him—and in this dream he just had. He laid back down and returned to thinking about it. At first, all he could really remember were the frightening sounds and visuals of thunder and lightning happening right before his eyes. But just as much, he also remembered seeing Barley. Only he was much younger. The elf wizard frowned as he realized this wasn’t just any dream. It was a memory. Ian couldn’t remember the last time he dreamed about a memory. But now that he really thought about it, this one actually happened!

Now in the waking world, the younger Lightfoot recalled being afraid of thunderstorms when he was little. And every single time there was one, Barley made sure he was right by his side. But now at sixteen, Ian was no longer afraid of thunderstorms. Not even during that one last weekend after his and his brother’s trip to the Labyrinth Mall. The one in which he’d found the S.S. Medallion, which had been stolen by Gedeon, who in turn used the teenage elf to get it back in his hands.

At that moment, Ian’s mind had gone back to guilt, and that dampened his sense of nostalgia and happiness.

He sat back up and got out of his sleeping bag. Then he reached for his watch and snapped it on his wrist. According to the time, it was now dawn. Ian was a little surprised that between him and his brother, he was actually the first one to wake up. Next, the younger elf put on his shoes and made his way to the backdoors of Guinevere the Second. He opened one of them and let the light of the dawn shine on his face. Then he slowly jumped out of the van and stepped forward, but not before he decided to partially close the doors so the early morning light wouldn’t wake his brother.

With just himself out in the open nature, Ian stretched his arms to the side and breathed in the fresh air. After holding it for as long as he could, he exhaled. While Ian loved Guinevere the Second, she could go from being spacious to not so spacious at all. The wide, sunny air was just what the younger Lightfoot needed to positively start a new day, especially a risky one. Afterwards, he decided to walk around the clearing to get one more feel of it before he and Barley had to continue on their trek to Dangarnon. He spun around, looking up at the many trees in the forest, and at the beaming sunlight that shined through them. As he did, he couldn’t help but wonder suspiciously why a forest adjacent to a village of gremlins had sun when the Manticore said the town was anything but sunny.

But before he could ponder that any further, Ian suddenly heard a twig snap in the distance. The splitting noise startled the younger elf that he let out a small gasp. He looked around and tried to sense where the sound had come from, but after several seconds of silence, he heard nothing more. Still the younger Lightfoot was getting the unusual feeling that he was being watched again. With that possibility, he thought about returning to Guinevere the Second where it was safe. Perhaps even hang out in one of the front seats while he waited for Barley to wake up. So he made his way over to do just that.

Ian went around to the passenger side of the van, deciding it was easiest to get in on his usual side. But when he got there, he jumped.

Right beside his door was a dark blue-furred wolf lying in the grass. Its tail flapped and its eyes were closed, as if it were asleep, too. Ian didn’t want to wake it up. He knew that would be bad. But that didn’t stop himself from becoming nervous. Wolves could be bad news if provoked. They could be upfront and aggressive towards domesticated species like him. So the younger elf thought it was a good idea to just back away slowly and go for the drivers’ side instead.

A step at a time, Ian backed away from the creature, breathing shakily. He thought he was about to make it just by hiding himself behind Guinevere’s backside when suddenly he felt something strange on the back of his heel. A further step into it made the younger Lightfoot realize it was some kind of tree root as he accidentally tripped backward and fell down to the ground with a yelp. His impact on the earth was loud. Loud enough for a wolf to hear.

Uh-oh, Ian thought as he gazed up and rubbed his head. Just as he feared, the wolf opened its eyes. Then it looked right up, and saw him.

The younger elf’s heart dropped. He was seen. He was seen by this wolf with its glowing yellow eyes! He just had to get away, especially now when the creature got up and was beginning to walk towards him. Ian was tempted to call Barley, get him to help, but he thought doing that would only make the wolf angrier. It was already looking at the younger Lightfoot with what looked to be an intent on its shoulders. So Ian figured it was best to just keep backing away, even if he was now low on the ground. He knew sudden movements were no good in this kind of situation.

But as he continued to breathe uneasily, and use his hands and feet to move backward, the younger elf grimaced as he felt something off on his staff-dominant hand. Raising it up to his face, he saw to his horror that there was now a big scratch on his palm as a result of his fall. It was bad enough that he still got the occasional blister from his own wizard staff, but this was going to make spellcasting even harder!

Now more nervous, Ian continued to awkwardly scooch away from the wolf as it got closer to him. There had to be something he could do to make it leave him alone. Although this creature was not wearing the S.S. Medallion, the young wizard believed he had already dealt with enough creatures attacking him as it was this week.

Lifting his scratched hand out in front of him, Ian frowned and said bravely to the wolf, “s-s-stay back! I-I’m-I’m warning you!”

But still, the canine continued to advance on him.

The younger elf wasn’t sure if using his injured hand was the right call in defending himself against this wolf. He didn’t want it to get any worse.

But just then, Ian felt his back touch the bark of a tree. He couldn’t go backward any further. Now cornered, the creature stopped right in front of him, all four paws on the ground, and made a still face. Nevertheless, the younger Lightfoot remained resolute, and kept his hand up in defense.

The wolf looked right into the eyes of the frightened teenage elf, whose reflection could be seen within the wolf’s own eyes. Then lifting a paw, the creature held it out towards Ian and aimed it at his scraped hand.

His heart beating faster, Ian drew back his hand a little. But the wolf’s paw kept going for it as if it wanted to touch it. The younger elf wondered if maybe it wanted to suck on his blood. Predators had their likeness to blood after all. Maybe it did want to make his injury worse.

But before Ian could do anything about it, the pad of the creature’s paw successfully touched the palm of his hand. He shuddered as it did that and was about to embrace getting even more hurt, knowing that Barley would probably come out and realize what was happening in no time. He shut his eyes, anticipating the worst. But instead of feeling even more scratches or hearing vicious growls from this wolf, the younger Lightfoot felt something luminescent come about.

Light shined on his face. It almost felt as bright as the transformation bubble of the S.S. Medallion. He opened his eyes slightly to see what was happening. He went from squinting to opening them fully when he noticed swirls of glowing golden magic work itself on his hand. Observing more carefully, Ian could see that the magic was coming from the wolf’s paw! It swirled around its foot as much as it did his palm!

The younger Lightfoot widened his eyes in amazement at the sight. While a part of him still had no idea what was going on, another part of him wanted to go along with it and see what would happen. Eventually, the golden magic of the wolf ceased and once it did, the creature released its paw from Ian’s hand and backed away. The younger elf stared at the wolf, then at his hand. Looking at it, a chill went down Ian’s spine. But not the kind he felt when he wore the S.S. Medallion.

His palm no longer had a long scratch. In fact, it was as if it were never there at all! His hand was completely healed! He rotated it, taking in the blueness it always had. Then he let out a laugh and gazed back at the wolf. It sat there contentedly as Ian took in the work it did.

“You-you’re a healer!” the younger elf realized.

The wolf appeared to give a small nod to Ian.

“I-I didn’t know wolves could do that.”

It was much calmer and tame than he thought it would be. But the younger Lightfoot knew he’d much rather have that than a wolf bent on eating him.

“Thank you,” he added after a moment.

With its task done, the wolf then turned and began to walk away from the teenage elf. But to Ian, that came off as a surprise.

“No, wait! Don’t go!” he called to it, leaning forward and reaching out his healed hand.

The creature immediately looked back as the younger elf got its attention. Then as Ian stood up again and went over it, its gaze followed the teenage elf as he stood directly in front of the wolf.

Kneeling down and looking the canine in the eye, the younger Lightfoot said, “y-you’re a friend, aren’t you? Is that right?”

The dark blue-furred creature sat down before Ian willingly. To the younger elf, that answered his question.

“Guess you are.”

He sat down on the grass, too, relieved to be able to calm himself again after that small adventure. The wolf itself then laid its head down on Ian’s legs. How could the younger Lightfoot say no to that? Without Blazey to keep him company, Ian figured he could use another friendly animal to pet right now. So he reached a hand towards the wolf’s head and stroked it.

“Aww, aren’t you cute? Sorry if I scared you. And...sorry if I was scared, too.” As Ian continued to pet the creature, he mused with a hint of regret, “I’ve been kinda feeling that a lot lately.”

The wolf glanced at Ian’s face. The teenage elf briefly cracked a small smile, then furrowed his brows as he looked away.

“I’m just so confused. Everything’s...changed. My life just isn’t the same anymore ever since...ever since I found out I could do magic. And ever since magic came back in the first place.”

Ian looked over at the wolf again, and could see that it was still looking at him. He let out a faint chuckle. Despite his rambling, the creature was listening, and someone who could listen to him was exactly what the younger elf felt like he needed right now.

“I know you probably don’t understand, but...that’s okay. I don’t really understand it all, either. But the thing is, I-I want to...I really, really want to, but...no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to do anything right. Like, I couldn’t even...” He paused, then sighed sadly. “It’s like I don’t even care...but I want to care, I really do! I mean, what choice do I have? I feel like everyone’s counting on me to make things right. Everyone thinks that I’m special. That I’m...the one. Even my own brother feels that way. But I can’t—I-I don’t...I don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let anyone down. But I’m just...Ian, you know? I mean...”

Pausing again, he reached inside his green flannel shirt, and pulled out the tiny wizard staff that was attached to his chain necklace. It intrigued the wolf.

“Not even this necklace could hide who I was,” Ian continued. Then clutching his staff tightly into the palm of his newly-healed hand, he said with a quiver, “and now...I don’t even know who I am anymore. I just...I’m lost...”

The younger elf closed his eyes and hung his head low as he finished his rant. He needed to breathe and calm down again. He just knew his brother wouldn’t like him saying all of this to his face. But right as that thought crossed the younger Lightfoot’s mind, he suddenly felt something of a presence behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ian’s heart stopped. He opened his eyes and let out another gasp. Then he slowly gazed up, turned around, and there was Barley—standing right beside the backdoors of Guinevere the Second.

“Oh! Barley...I, uh...I-I didn’t know you were awake,” said the now flustered younger elf as he stood up and brushed himself off. He was beginning to think for a while that he would be alone. But as of right now, he wasn’t anymore.

“What’s that you got there?” Barley asked quietly, pointing to the wolf sitting behind his brother.

Ian didn’t answer. But the older elf walked towards him and the creature, anyway.

“Well, whaddya know? A wolf,” Barley said in amazement, then he kneeled down to pet the canine himself, not scared of it at all. “They say the wolf is an elf’s best friend.”

“Oh, uh...really?” Ian asked, still somewhat agitated.

“Yeah, they’re hostile around other domesticated creatures, but when it comes to elves like us, they’re there to listen and”—he paused, then looked up at his brother—“be there for you.”

Again, Ian was quiet. He wasn’t sure what to say. All he figured was, Barley probably heard everything he’d just ranted out loud to this wolf. But he also figured it wasn’t right to assume, so he asked, “so, uh...h-h-how much did you hear just now?”

The older Lightfoot made a small smile before saying, “I think wolfy here wants both of us for company.”

So Ian kneeled back down and resumed petting his new wolf friend with his brother by his side.

“Well...?” he asked again after some silence.

Gazing at his younger brother, Barley looked almost guilty, then he looked away again and said, “I heard...I think I heard most of it.”

“Oh.” Ian was hoping that the older elf didn’t, but it was already too late. Now he really wondered if their quest would go sour. But he also wondered if Barley wanted to hear more.

“Look, Ian...I know I may not seem like it, but...you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I...I don’t know. I-I just...didn’t think you’d understand...or-or listen, even...”

Barley looked straight at his brother in shock. “What? Of course I’d understand! I was sixteen once, too, you know. And I know the feeling of being misunderstood.” Then the older Lightfoot furrowed his brows as he thought about that last statement. “Actually, I still do.”

“Okay...if you say so, old man,” Ian teased.

Barley was happy to at least get the sassy side of his brother out for a second, but then he frowned.

“Come on, what else is bothering you?”

Ian furrowed his brows and sighed. He was having a good time just sitting here and petting this wolf. But after everything he’d been through this week and for the past six months, he really wasn’t sure where to start. All the same, like most situations, he decided in his moment of thinking that it was simply best to start at the beginning.

“I used to not believe in magic...and think it was the silliest thing in the world. But now...I’ve let it take over me. A-as if I’m under a spell or something...”

“Are you talking about when you wore the S.S. Medallion?”

“No...not exactly. I-I got carried away, you know? Wanting to know how it worked and everything. But the fact is, I wanted it to...”

“What do you mean?”

Ian sighed again. His heart was telling him he was getting to the root of his problem. Letting go of the wolf, he turned to his brother. “I am a wizard, Barley. Wizards have the gift. A-and wizards are supposed to know magic, right? Well, I have the gift and can do magic! Don’t you think when people see me, they-they expect me to-to know how to handle every spell in the book, and-and know exactly what to do the next time a curse comes around? I-I know this is no curse, but...I feel like I’m cursed. Cursed into being the one to fix everything a-and be on everyone’s good side and not let them down.”

“Ian—”

“I mean, I didn’t choose to become a wizard! All I ever really wanted was to be bold like Dad, make some friends, and just...fit in and be...normal. But then I had to fix my own school to get things back to normal, and now I feel like I’m always surrounded by people wanting me to do more! To do special tricks every five seconds! And even that’s not enough for them! And those rocks. Those stupid rocks last night! I couldn’t even make those!”

Barley did a double take, then he too let go of petting the wolf and focused solely on his brother. “What are you talking about? You did make them! With the Stone Spell?”

“No, I didn’t! I didn’t make them at all! I lied, okay? I-I just found a bunch of them randomly coming out of this bush! They were all just there for the picking for some reason and next to everything else, I don’t even know why! It’s like...I should have all the answers! I should know these things! I should know what to do! But I don’t. I always feel like I’m going in the wrong direction, always doing the wrong thing, and can’t even make any decisions. So what more do you people want with me? Huh?! Just give me a break! Just let. Me figure. This out!”

Ian panted heavily. He had let it all out. Everything he’d suppressed for the past week out in front of his brother.

Meanwhile, Barley sat there, staring at the younger elf speechless. Judging from the way Ian was now tightly crossing his arms, he wasn’t sure if his younger brother was about to cry. But in case he did, Barley put a loving arm around him, and held him close.

“Ian, I...I had no idea,” he said. “I had no idea that this was going on in your head. And there’s no way I’ll ever know if you flask it up like this.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But I just...I didn’t want to let you down, either...”

“Are you kidding me? Ian, never in a million moons would you ever truly let me down! I mean, sure, I’ll get mad or have feelings if you do something wrong, but you will never ever truly let me down.”

“Wow...o-okay,” Ian said, relieved. He genuinely didn’t expect this to come out from his brother, but was happy about it, anyway. Then his smile faded again. “But what about everyone else?”

“Now, that, young mage, is an excellent question. One I have faced in daring protests time and time again, and something I still juggle to answer myself. But I guess the simple answer is this: who cares what other people think? Most people in town may know you as the Wizard Guy, and me as the Quest Guy. But do they know the real you? Probably not. And honestly, people are just rude. But don’t in the name of Zadar give them the power to tell you you’re not good enough. Because the fact is, Ian, rocks or no rocks, you are amazing. Like, really amazing. A-and talented. And...” Barley paused, but Ian could tell he had one more looming thought on his mind.

“And what?”

The older Lightfoot could only let out a chuckle.

“What? What is it?” Ian was curious to know as all these compliments of wisdom were giving him the boost of confidence he didn’t think he was going to get at this early hour.

But it was then that Barley grew a frown and a solemn look on his face. He reached a hand over his head, removed his beanie, and held it tight in his hands as he looked away from his brother.

“Barley, what is it?” Ian asked again, now a little concerned.

Finally, the older elf said, “the fact is...when I look at you, I see...” He paused to sigh. “I see Dad...”

Ian opened his mouth, confused. “Dad?”

But his brother wasn’t finished. “A-and he’s telling me constantly, ‘take good care of him for me. KEEP taking care of him for me because...because you...’”

“Because what?”

Barley gazed up and stared at his brother. “‘Because...you are his father now.’”

Ian’s eyes widened. “He...he told you that?”

“No...you did.”

“What?”

The older Lightfoot was silent for a moment, but then he carried on with his explanation.

“Six months ago, right before you went to distract the Curse Dragon, you told me you never had a dad, but that...you always had me. And...and I didn’t even know what that meant at first...until Dad finally did show up, and say that...not only was he proud of you, but...he was proud of me, too...for-for looking after you. For helping raise you after he got sick. And without you there standing right next to me, that’s...that’s when I realized...I needed to be more like him, to be the father you have always wanted.”

Feeling ashamed, Barley looked away from his brother again.

“Ian, you sacrificed the one thing you ever wanted just so I could see him and say goodbye to him. And I’m honored, really I am. But I didn’t want Dad’s spirit to go away. I didn’t want him to leave. So...so for the past couple months, I-I’ve been trying to ask myself, what would Dad do? What would Dad do in this situation? And...I’ve been following his advice. His supposed advice, I guess. And it told me not to let you hand the medallion over to Mr. Vance, er...Gedeon in this case, because I wanted you and I to do this together. Like a...like a father and son almost.”

Ian was beginning to feel lightheaded from this revelation. He almost didn’t know what was more shocking at this point—Mr. Vance actually being Gedeon...or this. But the younger elf also realized right then that this was why Barley was seemingly not acting like himself lately. It wasn’t just all in his head after all. But even still, the younger Lightfoot remained calm and kept listening.

“I know that sounds really, really ridiculous,” Barley continued, “but...I guess the main thing was I didn’t want you to get hurt or go down the wrong path, and not think of me as your guide anymore. Guess that didn’t turn out so well, huh? I’m...I’m sorry, Ian. All those times I snapped at you, tried to protect you, making sure you were safe...it just didn’t turn out like I hoped it would.”

The younger elf tilted his head to get a look into his brother’s eyes, and could swear he saw tears building up in them. That impression proved right when the older elf finally gazed back up at his brother, his eyeballs completely shining with emotion.

“You think you’ve had it rough since magic returned?” he said. “Honestly, I think I’ve had it worse...”

Ian needed a moment to take all of this in as tears now formed in his own eyes, until finally, he said softly, “Barley, I...I’m...I’m so sorry.” Without any hesitation, he leaned in and hugged his brother, and Barley hugged his brother back. Then letting go and wiping his eyes, the younger Lightfoot added, “when I said that, I-I didn’t mean for it to put so much pressure on you. I meant it as the opposite: to keep being you. To keep pushing me to be what I can and could be as you always have. Because the fact is, being you, the Barley I’ve always loved even if I don’t always show it, that has kept me going. It’s gotten me to be the person I’ve always dreamed I could be.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Barley, you are my older brother...and my best friend. I don’t ever want that to go away now. I just thought...for a while there that...I was the one with all the pressure, and that...I couldn’t even trust anyone anymore. And-and I guess that included you. I-I don’t even know who I can trust. I can’t even trust myself.”

“You just put your faith in the wrong person, that’s all,” Barley assured, putting his beanie back on his head, then he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But hey, as smarter as Gedeon seemingly is than me, I want you to know this: If you trust me, and know that I will always have your back, I promise you will never ever be alone in finding all the answers and learning all the secrets that magic holds—past, present, and future. ’Cause I know I still want to find them, and will always want to no matter what, don’t you?”

There was a pause. Ian thought about it, then forming a smile, he said, “wouldn’t want it any other way.”

That’s my bro, Barley thought as he too formed his own beaming smile.

Then the younger elf looked right beside him and realized, “hey, the-the wolf is gone!”

Barley followed Ian’s eyes, and also witnessed the wolf’s disappearance. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He then stood up and moved his head around. “I wonder where it wandered off to...”

Standing up himself, Ian said, “perhaps it noticed we had stuff to figure out and didn’t want to be in the way.”

“Yeah, that could be.”

“But hey, um, Barley?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for believing in me. Always believing in me.”

“Anytime, young mage,” the older elf said, patting Ian’s shoulder. “After all...we’re heading on our quest...the medallion we must retrieve...the Lightfoot Brothers can’t be stopped...”

Another purposeful pause, the younger Lightfoot just knew that was his cue once again.

“Because we believe,” he finished.

“Exactly,” Barley smiled. “Now, come on, we better get moving. For ’tis dawn, and Dangarnon awaits!”

And so, the two Lightfoots wandered back over to Guinevere to begin preparations for their hike to the village of gremlins. Meanwhile, the wolf watched them from within a nearby bush.

“You’ve done good, Eldrick...” it spoke aloud. “You’ve done good.”

His paw rested atop one of the leftover rocks the brothers had brought back with them for their campfire and used his foreleg to roll it back and forth.

“A little rock and healing assistance never hurt anyone...” he added with a smile through his fangs.

And with that, the gentle creature let the rock go, rolling it out from inside the bush. Then he sprinted away satisfied with his helpful deed.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 26 ◊

A Chat with Trees

“Aloft Elevar!” Ian called out.

He had decided to use his famous Levitation Spell to lift a large, heavy tarp Barley conveniently had inside the van amongst other things to shield Guinevere the Second from harm while they were out and about in Dangarnon. Should any gremlin happen to wander into the forest—tempted to tear anything mechanical apart—the young wizard felt he was doing his part to protect her, while Barley had gone to do some business not too far from the clearing. After what had happened to the first Guinevere, the last thing both Lightfoot brothers wanted was for their second van to be sacrificed as well—and so soon, even.

In a matter of minutes, the tarp was all secured. It was just the right size to fit a van as big and mighty as their dear Guinevere. From there, Ian only hoped that the obviousness of the tarp next to the lush environment of the forest wouldn’t give her away too much. But the younger elf’s thoughts on that were soon interrupted when he heard yet another twig snap just behind him.

Not again, he thought after turning his head in the direction of the noise.

With Barley still gone and with himself as his only company, Ian really didn’t want another unknown figure or supposed threat to surprise him, especially if it was actually a gremlin this time. And even if it was that same mysterious voice that gave him all the rocks last night, friend or foe, Ian decided that it was not best to be led astray by strange voices coming out of nowhere ever again.

So with a few more things to do to prepare for their stroll to Dangarnon—which wasn’t much further at this point—Ian decided to do the noble thing and ignore what he just heard. It was simply pointless to give into things that would ultimately lead him down the wrong path. Then with his staff still in hand, he went over to the pile next to the covered up Guinevere the Second of his and Barley’s things they had brought with them on their quest which they were now going to bring with them to the gremlin village. In it were their drab-colored cloaks from Barley’s closet—which they were going to use as disguises to blend in with the townsfolk—two satchels, the Quests of Yore guidebook, additional snacks, and their map.

But approaching the pile, Ian almost immediately noticed that only one of the cloaks was in it, not both, and that a black eye mask—which wasn’t even on his list—was now present, too. The younger Lightfoot also took heed to the fact that his brother’s sword was gone as well. He thought he had put it there with everything else before tarping Guinevere. Did he forget to take it out? But once more, rather than question what if after what if like he’d been doing all week, Ian was about to reach for the one cloak and put it on when—

“HA-HA!”

Jumping out from behind the tarped Guinevere the Second was Barley. He was cloaked, satcheled, and ready for the rest of their journey. But mysteriously, along with the newly added eye mask, he also had tons of dirt smothered all over his face, as if he wanted to further disguise himself for some reason. But what Ian noticed most of all about his brother was the fact that he’d brandished out his sword, and was pointing it right at the younger elf!

“I’ve caught you! Now, come and get me, if you dare!” Barley challenged.

All Ian could do at first was stare at his brother wide-eyed and confused, but then that bewilderment turned to realization and a smug eye roll when he then stood up and said, “I thought that was you.” Then raising his wizard staff above his head, and striking it to the ground, Ian declared, “Hydro Pura!”

Aiming the staff at his brother, the younger Lightfoot used his Water Spell to splash the dirt off from Barley’s face.

“What the—hey!” the older elf exclaimed.

It was a spell he certainly wasn’t ready for, and one he didn’t exactly appreciate judging from the water he was spitting out and the somewhat annoyed look that grew on his face. But Ian found himself giggling in enjoyment at the fact that his small counter attack made his brother react that way.

“Nice comeback, young mage,” Barley finally said as wet dirt now dripped down his face. “But I was trying to be a gremlin, and if I were a gremlin, you would be multiplying me right now.”

Ian almost blushed. “Oh...whoops, my bad,” he said apologetically, having stopped his giggling entirely. But then turning smug again, he added, “but hey, I was just getting started!”

“Oh, were you?” Barley teased. “Well, then, try and get me!”

The older Lightfoot ran back behind Guinevere the Second, but Ian figured he could corner his brother by cutting him off on the other side. As expected, Barley and Ian ran into each other at the end, then ran back to the other end and bumped into each other again. Next, Barley ran back in his direction with Ian deciding to follow right behind. The younger elf didn’t really know what was going on, but he figured this was another one of Barley’s attempts to get the both of them to have a little fun before they had to carry on with their quest, and sure enough it was working! But Ian knew he couldn’t chase his brother down forever, he was already getting a little tired from running around, and Dangarnon was practically a hike away! He needed a way to fully surprise attack his brother without splashing water on him.

Running back out to the side of Guinevere the Second that had their pile of gear, Ian looked down upon it, then peered over at the tarped van. With a hand on his chin and a smirk, the young wizard began to form an idea.

◊ ◊ ◊

Barley was now hiding on the non-pile side of Guinevere the Second, where the space was somewhat tight between himself and the trees.

“Yoo-hoo! Ian! I’m back here!” he called teasingly, waving his hands back and forth in the air, even though he was sure his brother couldn’t possibly see him. “What are you waiting for?”

At this rate, he figured Ian was either planning on coming to his side of the van any minute now with the intent to chase him some more, or was planning something big on the outside where he was hiding. Barley had hidden on his side long enough for Ian to do something like plan an ambush using the rest of the clearing, and his thoughts leaned more towards that being the case. But then after a few more minutes had passed, with Barley still waiting behind his side of the van, all he could hear other than his own breathing and the morning ambience of the forest was nothing. It was silent. With those observations, it began to concern him that maybe this game was too much for his younger brother, and that maybe he was hiding, too.

Sighing, Barley came out from around his side of the van and onto the clearing for Ian to witness. “Okay, Ian, we can stop playing now if you want. No need to chase me anymore. You win. We have a real bad guy to track down now.”

But as the older Lightfoot looked around the entire clearing, his brother was nowhere in sight.

“Ian?” he called out loud, hoping his brother would answer. “Ian?!”

He then noticed that his and Ian’s pile of stuff was all gone, which only made him a little more anxious. Had Ian gone off to find Gedeon alone like he had wanted to do yesterday? Barley didn’t know for sure, but he decided he would keep looking around the area just to be safe.

He decided that he would check around Guinevere the Second again first, in case his brother had decided to hide exactly where he just was a minute ago.

“Ian?” he asked out loud again, first approaching where he just hid. Then he went over to the backside of Guinevere. “Ian?”

But suddenly the backdoors of the van flew open, which caused the one side of the tarp to fly along with it. It made Barley jump. Then his heart further skipped a beat when out leaped his little brother, all dressed up in his own cloak, with his own eye mask strapped across his face and his satchel shoulder strapped across his body.

Before Barley could react any further, Ian then aimed his staff at his older brother and proclaimed, “Aloft Elevar!”

The younger elf carefully lifted Barley up into the air, as he didn’t want to hurt him completely, but all the same he definitely wanted to show his brother what he was capable of doing. Luckily, it seemed to be working as not only was Ian lifting his older brother into the air without a falter, but Barley appeared to enjoy being levitated based on the laughs he was giving out from up in the air. After a moment’s time, Ian cautiously brought his brother back down, and made sure to have the older elf land on his own two feet.

“Impressive,” Barley remarked. “Good sneak attack, great aim, and an epically awesome change in appearance!”

“Thanks,” Ian said with a grin.

“There’s just one thing I’m afraid you’re missing, though...”

Now frowning and tilting his head to the side, the curious younger elf asked, “what’s that?”

Walking backwards towards the edge of the clearing, Barley answered, “I can fill up a room, but take up no space. That is your ticket to win this race.” Then turning to face the edge, he ran out of the clearing away from his brother.

“Hey, wait for me!” Ian called out to him. Then without any more hesitation, he bolted right after Barley, hoping not to lose him.

Exiting the clearing himself, the younger elf had his brother in his sights. The older Lightfoot ran through the forest with his sword in hand—even using it to cut away at some of the bushes leaving behind some evidence of his trail—and his own satchel still across his body. As far as Ian was concerned, from looking between himself and his brother, they had everything from their pile in hand. He had the Quests of Yore guidebook and their evidence, Barley had their snacks and the map, and they both had their weapons and their cloaks. Plus, Guinevere the Second was all covered.

So with all that set and done, the younger Lightfoot knew he and his brother were officially on their way to Dangarnon! Yet he also knew that that was not the answer to Barley’s riddle. Ian knew it was something important, something that was staring him right in the nose. But what?

“‘I can fill up a room...but take up no space...’” Ian repeated to himself as he continued to run, taking breaths in between each verse, “‘that is your ticket...to win this race...’” But as the morning sun shone itself through the many trees of the forest and into the eyes of the younger elf, he took notice of its shiny, beautiful, orangey glow. It was that kind of glow that irritated Gedeon, because it turned out he had a weakness for—

Ian let out a gasp. “Light! That’s it!”

With his wizard staff ready in hand, the younger elf veered away from Barley’s direction, and made his way through an adjacent side of the forest that he figured would put him right in front of his brother.

Meanwhile, Barley continued to run, run, run as fast as he could away from his brother while also making sure he was going the right way towards where they needed to go based on the map. On occasion, he would look behind him to see if Ian was still there, and was still catching up with him. But when he next turned back, he saw that Ian wasn’t there. Did he lose him? Lose him so far that he was lost? Considering his brother’s clever surprise attack a few moments ago, Barley wasn’t so sure. But he decided to slow down and catch his breath just in case.

When he found himself in a smaller clearing deeper into the forest, the older Lightfoot continued to slowly walk forward with tired feet. He thought hearty sustenance was surely not a bad idea right now. But no, he just had to keep going. This was his way of helping his brother gain more confidence. It was working before. But had this plan finally reached its end?

Barley decided to at least rest his hand on a tree for a moment to keep himself balanced so he wouldn’t completely collapse to the ground. He also decided to lift one foot at a time to his back to stretch them out a bit. Once he was done with that, he put both feet on the ground again, took his hand off the tree, and looked up. But he was puzzled to find that when he did look up, the area around him was now covered in an intense fog. It was not even close to foggy when he got there seconds ago, but now he could barely see a thing in front of him. How could he find Ian now?

But then right in front of him, the older elf saw a sign. A bright, yellow orb was coming towards him. It got closer and closer, and bigger and bigger, until finally the source of the orb revealed itself.

“Need a little light?” Ian said with a grin on his face as he came through the fog with his staff, wielding the Light Spell.

Barley chuckled. His brother had solved the riddle. Then he said, “well, this fog you also made sure could use one.”

“Or I could just...you know...clear it up.”

“Or that.”

Ian thought a simple Wind Spell could get rid of his fog no problem. But just as he was about to conjure it, Barley suddenly had another idea.

“Or I could—” he ran towards the younger elf and lunged at him hoping it would get the both of them out of the magical fog, while still keeping up with their made-up fighting game.

This landed Ian on the ground with an “oof!” with Barley landing right on top of him. But before either Lightfoot brother knew it, they had both unexpectedly found themselves at the very edge of a mound, and with their combined weight leaning towards it, they began to roll themselves downward!

Ian and Barley yelped as they started to plummet. But they also kept each other close as they rolled down the hill. It definitely wasn’t what either of them had planned to have happen in their pretend battle. But they both agreed to themselves that it was certainly a grand finale to behold.

When both brothers finally landed at the very bottom of the mound, they had finally stopped rolling each other over, too.

Barley was once again on top of Ian, and finished his thought with, “—thrust thee out of the way!”

Slightly peeved and bruised from the action, Ian said, “you know, you really didn’t need to do that.”

“I know, but it quickly got us out of your fog, right?”

Barley had a point, they were no longer in the fog. But Ian was sure it wouldn’t have lasted forever, anyway. What he summoned wasn’t that big. But either way, he agreed.

“Yeah, I guess it did,” the younger Lightfoot said.

The brothers then had a laugh about their experience. Who would’ve thought their day of true questing would start off so playful? But then—

“Hey! What’s the big idea here? Eh?”

Barley and Ian immediately stopped their laughter when they both heard that voice come out of nowhere. The two of them then stood up from the ground.

“Did you hear that?” the older Lightfoot asked his brother.

But Ian was simply relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was hearing strange voices in the forest now.

“Of course you can ‘hear that,’” another voice said, sounding pompous. “If I had fingers, I would make quotation marks just to make myself more clear...”

The two brothers split away from each other and looked around. These voices were not far. They were close. Very close. But where were they?

As Ian backed himself into a tree, he heard from directly behind it, “but I CAN’T!”

The younger elf turned around and shrieked as he found the answer. This tree he had come across had a face, and with it, an annoyed expression. But she wasn’t alone.

“Oh, pipe down, Prunella! Can’t you see these boys are simply lost?” the tree next to her said.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Rowan,” the pompous tree snapped back.

“Whispering Elms...” Barley said quietly to his brother. Then with a faint chuckle, he added, “should’ve known. We are in a forest.”

“Not just—hic!—any forest, my boy,” another tree with a toothy grin hiccuped. “Why—hic!—you’ve landed yourselves in—hic!—Dangarnon forest.”

“Probably not the best place for you elves to be in...” Rowan advised, noticing their species. “That village over yonder is crawling with gremlins!”

“Course, that’s none of our business,” said the first tree that spoke. He had the gruffest voice of them all. “We trees stay here and don’t go anywhere near there ’cause, well...” He then shook himself to emphasize that he was stuck to the ground.

“Right...” Ian finally said. “Well...we should get going, right, Barley?”

He put an arm through his brother’s, intent on pulling them both away from this situation. The younger elf had no interest in getting stuck in a conversation with trees. He and Barley had run into plenty of them back home in the Journey Mart parking lot, anyway.

“Wait! Hic!” the hiccuping tree cried. “You can’t go over there! Hic! It’s nuts! Hic!”

“Oh, Hickory, dear, for once in your centuries of living, would you please stop hiccuping in the middle of your sentences?” Prunella asked with an even bigger hint of annoyance.

“I—hic!—can’t! Hic!”

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Prunella said to the teenage elves. “He’s got way too much tree sap in his system.”

Ian and Barley glanced at one another in awkwardness. This wasn’t necessarily something they needed—or wanted—to know.

“But Spruce on the other limb,” she continued, staring wistfully at the tree across from her who’d first noticed the brothers, “now he’s a tree known by his fruit, if you know what I mean.”

The brothers could only stare blankly in response.

“What did you say about my pear tree, Pruny?” Rowan barked.

“Oh, nothing, dear...just that I much rather he be planted closer to me, and further from you and your endless hankering, that’s all...and don’t call me Pruny!”

“Why, you—” Rowan began to threaten, but then finding part of her gaze focusing on Hickory, she softened her temper and began to beam with happiness. “Oh, hi, Hickory...”

“Oh, uh...h-hi—hic!—Row,” Hickory answered with a blush. “Is-is-is that a—hic!—new leaf on your branch?”

“Why, it sure is. It has finally grown up into a bea-u-ti-ful bud.”

Prunella rolled her eyes in disgust. “Oh, for the love of Grand Tree, you two are pathetic!”

“Oh, come on! I think it’s adorable!” Barley chimed in, cupping his hands together.

“Barley...” Ian whispered with cringing teeth.

“What? It is!”

“Yeah, but...not helping...”

“Adorable, huh?” Prunella repeated, overhearing the brothers’ conversation. “I wonder...” She eyed Spruce again, then in an attempt to act flirtatious, she called out to him, “oh, Spruuuuce! Over here!”

As soon as he heard his name, the tree turned his attention away from Rowan, and onto the other two trees. “Why...yes, Prunella?”

“Do you like my shrubdo today?”

“Well, uh—”

“The lack of wind in the area today is certainly helping it stay full and luxurious, don’t you think?”

“Uh, y-yeah, it sure is.”

With that, Prunella felt satisfied. “Thank you, Sprucey,” she said, then under her breath, she muttered, “at least some tree around here appreciates me and what I have to say.”

“Hey, I like your shrubs—hic!—Prunella,” Hickory cut in.

“Oh, shut up, Hickory!”

“But—hic!”

“You heard her, shut up,” Spruce added.

“Spruce!” Rowan cried, appalled.

Soon the four trees began to argue, and throw even more mean comebacks at one another within their rectangle, all while the two Lightfoot brothers watched in the center.

Ian groaned. “Now look what you’ve done, Barley!”

“Me?! They started it! They’re the ones who are always talking.”

Ian looked to the trees as they kept arguing. “I guess...”

“Look, the thing to remember about Whispering Elms is that they love to talk, listen in on things, and gossip. Sure, it’s...annoying, but we could also use this to our advantage.”

“What do you—” Ian began to ask.

But Barley took a step towards the trees. “Hey, uh, excuse us, good trees, can we get thy attention, please?”

However, the trees talking over one another with continuous resentful comments made it hard for them to hear him. Their focus only seemed to be on each other.

“Prunella’s right, you know! You hold too much hope for this world,” Spruce said to Rowan.

“Oh, well, excuse me for being too happy,” Rowan said with ridicule.

“I love it—hic!—when you’re—hic!—happy,” Hickory said.

“You and your tree sap,” Spruce remarked.

“Oh, like—hic!—you don’t—hic!—have any.”

“Of course I do, the strong and healthy kind.”

“The strong and healthy kind I’d like,” Prunella swooned.

“You could always have—hic!—some of mine,” Hickory offered with a flirt.

“Ick! No! For the thousandth time, NO!”

“Uh, hello? Mr. and Mrs. Trees? Hello?!” Barley called, trying again to get their attention. But still, it had no effect. It seemed like the four trees would never stop arguing. Sighing, the older Lightfoot said to his brother, “it’s no use, they won’t listen.”

“Good,” Ian said, not having a problem with that one bit. “Now, let’s get out of here and get to Dangarnon.”

“But they might know something about Gedeon! They might know where he is! Dangarnon could be huge! They should have some idea about where to find him, or if he’s even over there at all.”

Ian thought about it. As much as these trees were making him uncomfortable, they were in the Dangarnon area, and clearly knew stuff about it if they went so far as to call the town “nuts.” But above all, the last thing the younger elf wanted after having come this far was to have come this far for nothing.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” the younger Lightfoot finally said. “But how are we going to get their attention?”

“I don’t know. I would’ve thought just talking to them would get them to stop and listen, but it would appear we are in the midst of a tree love rectangle.”

“You’re telling me.” Ian stopped again to think, then eyeing the wizard staff in his hand, he smirked and went, “hmm...” as an idea came to his mind. Wielding his staff out in front of him and aiming it as high as he could toward the sky, he shouted, “Boombastia!”

Fireworks sprawled into the air from the younger elf’s staff. As expected, they were bright, colorful, and loud. Enough so to get all four trees to stop bickering and focus their attention back on the Lightfoot brothers—particularly Ian and his staff.

“Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?” Prunella demanded.

“Yeah, do you know how many gremlins out there could’ve seen that?” Spruce added.

“Or how many—hic!—trees—hic!—you could’ve lit on fire?” Hickory joined in.

“Well, sorry, it’s just...it was the only way we could get your attention,” Ian answered firmly, then pointing beyond the trees, he asked, “you said Dangarnon was that way, right?”

“Yes, it is. Just on the edge,” Rowan answered. “But I wouldn’t go in there if I were you two. That place is chock full of gremlins stirring up trouble.”

“Yeah, we know.”

“Please—hic!—don’t go there! It’s not—hic!—safe for you lots! There’s thieves, scams, and—hic!—tricks everywhere!”

“Ugh, go back to sleep, Hickory,” Prunella angrily intervened. “I think these boys, and me—actually, no, all of us, have had enough of you for right now.”

“Hic! Okay,” the hiccuping tree said without objection. Then in a flash, he was out like a candle, and began to snore really loudly.

“What a guy,” Spruce said. “Now, what were we talking about?”

“Gremlins,” answered Rowan.

“Oh, that’s right. Gremlins...those darn, good-for-nothing troublemakers! One of ‘em over there in Dangarnon tried to build themselves a house once, only they tried to make it inside of me! They thought it was all in good fun, but if another gremlin ever decides to make a house out of me again, I swear I’ll—”

“All right, Spruce, we get the picture!”

“Oh, come now, Rowan, he’s making a good point,” Prunella said. “But to your credit, you have as well...” Turning to Ian and Barley, she asked in an interrogative manner, “just why are you two planning on heading over to Dangarnon, anyway?”

The younger Lightfoot stayed silent. He wanted his older brother to take this one. So Ian nudged Barley a little towards Prunella so that the older elf could ask the question he’d been dying to ask these trees ever since the both of them ended up in their clearing.

Barley could see what his brother was trying to do, but didn’t mind it one bit. Clearing his throat, then standing tall and proud, he asked, “pardon us, good trees, but do any of you know who Gedeon the Grotesque is?”

All the trees collectively gasped in terror at the sound of the wizard’s name.

“Wow, straightforward, much?” Ian whispered to Barley.

“You said you wanted to get away from these trees as quickly as possible, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You mean...red robe, dark pointy wizard staff, magic-obsessed Gedeon?” Prunella finally asked as the other trees were still feeling stunned.

“That’s him,” Ian nodded.

Prunella looked around at her fellow trees, then back at the teenage elves. After biting her lip briefly, she shook her head, and quickly said, “nope, never heard of him.”

“Huh?”

“What do you mean, you’ve never heard of him?” Barley asked, brandishing his sword at Prunella. “You just described him! Perfectly!”

Spruce darted his eyes and let out a nervous chuckle. “Uhhh, lucky guess?”

Prunella joined in the nervous chuckling herself. “Yes, you heard him, ‘lucky guess.’ Ha-ha. So great, now that that’s done, you can put down that sword of yours and ‘get away’ from us trees! Just like you wanted.”

“Do they have to hear everything we say?” Ian whispered again to Barley.

“Why, of course,” Rowan said, having heard the whisper. “Even when your back is turned.”

Ian was unamused by this whole thing. It was only wasting his and his brother’s time. He sighed, then with a snarky tone loud enough for the trees to hear, the younger elf said to Barley, “well, all right then, if these trees can talk and listen, yet know nothing about Gedeon, then let’s get out of here. We’ll find out if he’s in Dangarnon ourselves.” Putting his arm through Barley’s again, he began to drag both of them away.

“Sorry you couldn’t be of any help to us,” the older Lightfoot called back to the trees with a smile, then lifting his sword in the air, he shouted in true hero fashion, “off to Dangarnon we go, dear brother! To Gedeon!”

However, Barley’s chivalrous yells suddenly woke Hickory from his deep sleep. The buck-toothed tree said drowsily, “huh? Wh-wh-what?” But coming to, he added, “Gedeon? Hic!” Then his eyes widened and his smile grew huge. “Hey, we know Gedeon! Hic! Don’t we, guys?”

“What?” Ian said, still dragging Barley along. He immediately stopped short when he heard the hiccuping tree’s words. Letting go of his brother, he turned around and went straight back to the trees. “What did you say?”

But Prunella was quick to try and cover it up. “Oh, uh...n-nothing, dear! Hickory doesn’t know what he’s saying! Right, fellas?”

“Oh, sure, I do, hon. Hic!” Hickory said. “Gedeon the Grotesque. Hic! We know him. We all know him. Very interesting guy. Hic! Very mad, too...and knows magic.”

“So you lied to us!” Barley accused, joining his brother’s side again.

“Was that so wrong of us to do?” Prunella asked.

“Uh...yeah,” Ian said, as if it were obvious. “Yeah, it was.”

“Come on, Ian, let’s go see what tree who hiccups here knows about our adversary,” Barley suggested.

“Let’s,” the younger Lightfoot immediately agreed.

So the two brothers walked right up to Hickory, leaving the other three trees of the rectangle in the dust.

“Uh...hi. Hickory, right?” Ian began.

“You’re darn tootin’,” the toothy tree said. “What can I—hic!—do for you, boys?”

“Well...Hickory...you obviously know who Gedeon is,” Barley pointed out. “Any chance you know if he’s in Dangarnon?”

“He sure is! Hic!”

The Lightfoot brothers glanced at each other as both their faces lit up. Already this early in the day, they had a sign of hope. Then they turned back to the tree.

“That’s great!” Ian said. “So...do you know where in Dangarnon he is?”

“Hic! I’m afraid—hic!—I don’t,” Hickory answered. “But please—hic!—don’t go there, it’s dangerous!”

“Well, we kinda have to...” Barley insisted. “See...he stole something very powerful that doesn’t belong to him, and we, the Lightfoot men, are here to take it back.”

“That’s quite bold of you boys to do,” Prunella said, having listened in on them. “But really, you don’t want to mess with that man. He puts the ‘war’ in warlock.”

“You don’t understand, Mrs. Tree,” Ian said. “He messed with me! And I’m not letting him get away with what he did!”

“Ah, stubbornness I see, and a wooden wizard staff,” Spruce teased. “Now who does that remind me of? Hmm...”

“Perhaps the love of his life back there?” Barley whispered to Ian, adding a chuckle thereafter.

“Oh, I know!” Spruce beamed. “I know, I know, I know...”

“What? Who?” the younger elf asked, though he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know. He didn’t really consider himself that stubborn.

“Why, Gedeon, of course.”

Ian’s face read total offense. “I am nothing like Gedeon!”

“Don’t listen to these trees, Ian,” Barley advised, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder, then slowly staring at each individual tree, he added, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Actually, we do,” Rowan said. “You just gotta hear us out.”

“We’re not saying you’re entirely like Gedeon,” Spruce clarified. “But once upon a time, when he was around your age, stubbornness was his entire personality.”

“Ah, here we go...”

“Trust me, darling, this is a good story. One I think these boys ought to know about, and I would encourage you, Hick, and Prunella to help me out here.”

“Oh, all right...if you insist.”

“Awesome! More backstory! Another welcome addition to our daring quest!” Barley said to Ian, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

“Honestly, I couldn’t agree more,” the younger elf said. “Though...let’s take this with a grain of salt. They’ve already lied to us once.”

“True.”

After Spruce cleared his throat, he began to tell the brothers what he and the other trees knew about Gedeon. “Now, you boys probably don’t know this, but we trees have been around for hundreds and hundreds of years...”

“Uh, actually...we do...know that,” Ian said.

“Yeah, okay. But perhaps what you don’t know is—”

But cutting in, Hickory said, “that’s a long, long—hic!—long, long, long, long—hic!—long, long, long—”

“Hickory!” Prunella snapped, using one of her branches on him to make him stop. “That’s enough!”

“Thank you, Prunella,” Spruce said sweetly.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes! So naturally, we’ve seen a lot happen in these woods and have watched many a person come through here. But no person had visited our forest more than young Gedeon...ahem, Rowan...”

Sighing, Rowan complied. “It was many years ago...when Gedeon was just a teenager...he had come outside the deranged village and entered our forest. He never ever came without carrying a book or two or three, but most importantly, he never came without his tall, dark wooded staff. And with these things, he would always come to the same clearing. Now, before you ask, it wasn’t ours...I think he knew better than that.”

“Fair enough,” Barley concurred.

“It was, however, the clearing over yonder,” Rowan added, using her limbs to point to the clearing behind her and Prunella. “Anyway, each of the books he brought with him had one thing in common...they were all books about magic. But not just any magic.”

“What kind of magic?” Ian asked.

“Ugh...Prunella?”

The pompous tree rolled her eyes. It was her turn already? With a groan, she said almost blandly, “druid magic.”

The younger Lightfoot gasped. He remembered learning about druid magic back at the tavern with Barley. But were these trees trying to say what he thought they were trying to say?

“So...y-you mean, Gedeon is...or-or was...?”

“No, not even close. But...that’s what he wanted himself to be.”

“What do you mean?” Barley asked.

But Prunella could only groan again. “Spruce, will you please tell these boys what I mean?”

“Uh-uh, it’s Hickory’s turn,” Spruce answered, shaking his head.

“But Hickory doesn’t know anything! Look at him!”

“Uh, I hate to interject, but...wasn’t he the one who said you guys knew Gedeon in the first place?” Barley pointed out.

“Oh, all right, fine...” Prunella surrendered. “Hickory?”

“I thought—hic!—you’d never—hic!—ask!” Hickory said cheerfully. “So, boys...my friends, here, are right. Hic! Gedeon carried with him books—hic!—about druid magic. But the catch? Hic! He wasn’t a druid, and as far as I know—hic!—still hasn’t become a druid. Do you happen to know—hic!—what druid magic does?”

“Yeah, it, uh...they’re nature spells,” Ian answered, having now jogged his memory on the subject.

“That’s correct. Hic! And the most powerful thing a druid can do—hic!—is shapeshift at their own will. And that, my friends—hic!—is exactly what Gedeon wanted to do.”

“But alas...” Spruce chimed in, “for him, it just wasn’t possible. Everyday, Gedeon would come to that clearing, open a page in one of those druid books of his, and try to turn himself into a different creature.”

“He always believed that coming here to the forest would make his magic stronger since druids always rely on the forces of nature to strengthen their magic,” Rowan continued. “At least that’s what he always ranted about out in the open every time he came here...but even with that additive, it was never enough for sad young Gedeon.”

“But he refused to accept that he couldn’t do it,” Prunella said with a tone. “And so every single darn day for years, he would come back here at some random hour, and try and try and try again to shapeshift. But he never became anything. All he ever really became was himself, and who he is today. Angry. Angry and stubborn. It seemed like he would never rest until he became something that wasn’t his pitiful gremlin self. Until one day, finally...he never came back.”

“We didn’t—hic!—notice at first until—hic!—a span of days had gone by.”

“So what happened?” Barley asked.

“I think I know...” Ian answered. “He found the S.S. Medallion”—then a hint of realization crossed his face—“which gave him the power to shapeshift!”

“So he didn’t need to come here anymore...”

“That’s not a bad theory, boys, Hic!” Hickory said. “Shapeshifting was all he ever really—hic!—really wanted.”

“But do you know why he wants to shapeshift so badly?” Ian asked.

“He had to have said something while he was here,” Barley added, equally curious.

“Well...my best guess is, he hates being a gremlin,” Rowan said.

“Hates being a gremlin?”

“Hates it.”

“At least based on his attitude about the whole thing,” Prunella scoffed.

“Oh, come now—hic!—dear,” Hickory said in an attempt to soothe her. “You know, sometimes—hic!—I can’t help but—hic!—feel bad for the guy.”

“Feel bad?” asked Barley.

“For Gedeon?” Ian finished. He was now beginning to think the hiccuping tree was crazy.

“Gremlins have never had it easy,” Rowan said. “Sometimes they just need a break, or...something like that.”

“But break into my hindquarters again, and they’ll get it!” Spruce yelled.

“So...anyway, that’s all we know about Gedeon, happy now?” Prunella asked the brothers.

“Yes, thank you,” Ian said with gratitude.

“We shall take thy words with great care!” Barley added.

“But you still don’t know where in Dangarnon Gedeon lives?”

“Uh, hello? Trees?” Prunella pointed out, moving around as much as she could. “Can’t exactly move! Or see beyond as far as we can see!”

“Okay, okay, right...sorry...”

Ian was about to turn to leave—with Barley joining not too far behind him—until Prunella cut in with a, “but...”

“What?” the younger elf asked, turning back.

Leaning in a little closer to the teenage elves, Prunella began to whisper, “you didn’t hear it from me...”

Oh, great, another love secret, Ian thought as he rolled his eyes.

“But someone may or may not be following you...”

“Huh?” Barley said, confused.

“We heard from a few trees over just before you came through our clearing that there is another figure in this, here, forest and that they are watching your every move.”

Ian felt his heart drop as his thoughts immediately traced back to that strange voice that called to him and led him to the rocks last night. At the back of his mind, he was starting to think for as long as he and Barley had run into these trees that perhaps one of their kind was responsible for the incident. But trees don’t follow people. They can overhear people’s thoughts, yes. But follow them as in walking? Now that seemed very unlikely. So his theories on that whole matter were now back to square one.

As a tense Ian contemplated this, Barley defended himself and his brother once again from the trees’ nonsense talk. “Okay, unless you’re talking about the friendly wolf that wandered into our campsite this morning, I have no idea what you’re talking about, tree.”

But Prunella smirked at that. “As a matter of fact, you’re quite right, dear boy. For it is the wolf.”

“Really?” Ian said, looking up from his thought process. “A-are you sure?”

“Boys, boys, would I lie?”

Barley and Ian looked at each other, then they stared back at Prunella with raised eyebrows.

The tree herself rolled her eyes at the brothers. Perhaps she’d had enough of them too. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter to me,” she said. “You want Dangarnon, and to find Gedeon, don’t you? Well, if you want my opinion on where he could be, perhaps you could find him at one of their bars, having some fun...”

“Are you kidding, Pruny?” Rowan interrupted. “Gedeon wouldn’t go have any drinks. He’s probably at his house, or...a house. The houses down there aren’t quite...organized.”

“He’s not in any houses!” Spruce cried. “What are we even saying? He’s probably long gone from Dangarnon at this point!”

“Or—hic!—he could be—hic!—shopping,” Hickory suggested.

“Shopping? Oh, for the love of—” Prunella began to shout.

From there, the trees had gotten themselves into yet another argument, and it was sure an argument the Lightfoot brothers did not want to be in the middle of this time.

So without saying a word, both Ian and Barley slowly and quietly side-stepped away from the trees and out of their clearing without any of them noticing. As soon as the brothers were completely out, they immediately walked faster. Then they ran. The further they got away, the softer the trees’ screams became.

◊ ◊ ◊

There were only a few more kilometers of forest left before Barley and Ian found the horizon of pink sky turning into clear blue straight ahead of them. The Whispering Elms really weren’t that far from the edge of the woodland like they said.

After passing through one last bush, the brothers saw it from atop the large hill they were standing on: Dangarnon.

They had finally made it.

Neither Ian nor Barley could say a word at first. All they could do was stare at the destination that lay ahead of them—or rather, below them. From the outside, it looked exactly how the Manticore had described it. While they could still see parts of blue sky straight ahead, they were now just noticing a gigantic dark gray cloud that loomed over the village. It was so huge, thick, and specifically placed that there was no way any sunlight could get through it. That alone really did make the whole place seem like the perfect town for gremlins, or for anybody else that despised the sun.

Below the cloud was the village itself, except it was more like a junkyard if anything. Crumbled buildings, dumped cars that looked like they couldn’t run anymore, and junk just everywhere! But soon Ian’s eyes spotted a pole with a flag that bore a familiar-looking symbol. So he stopped and searched in his pockets. Taking out the bandana, he held it out in front of him and compared it to the flag.

“The gear with the spark inside,” he said to Barley. “It’s a match. This is it.”

“Awesome!” Barley said, excited.

After another moment of taking in the village, the younger Lightfoot decided to shrink down his staff and put it back on his necklace. Then he began making steps forward. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

But Barley put a hand out in front of Ian. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not so fast!”

“What?” Ian really wasn’t sure why his brother was trying to stop him from going somewhere this time, especially since this was the place they’d been looking for ever since Gedeon got away.

“Before we go in there, we’re gonna need code names,” Barley said.

“Code names?” Ian inquired. “But why would we—”

“If I know bad guys, they also like to be on the search for their adversaries like us heroes. That said, Gedeon has probably told the whole town about us and might be looking.”

“Barley, that’s crazy. Besides, we’ve already got these eye masks and cloaks,” Ian insisted as he pointed to his face, then held up a flap on his own cloak.

“It’s not enough. I say we give ourselves new names. Just for this last part before we reach our illustrious journey’s end. It’ll be fun!”

Ian sighed. “All right. So...who are you going to be?”

“Fear not, little brother, for I already have the perfect name in mind!”

“And it’s...?”

“Clarence!” Barley said proudly.

Ian was speechless for a moment, but then he burst out laughing. “Clarence? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“That is such a stupid name.”

“To you, maybe. But I’ve used him from coffee shops to fast food joints, and he’s never failed me. Not even once! So he can’t possibly fail now.”

“Well, have you ever used ‘Clarence’ on a quest?”

“Uh...no,” Barley admitted. “But I guarantee you, he’s my greatest secret weapon.”

“If you say so...”

“And your name, Sir no-longer Iandore?”

“Uh, yeah, I...don’t know about this, Barley...” Ian said, unsure. “I mean, seriously, all we’re doing is sneaking in and getting this jewel back from this freak. Nothing more! Who cares if people—”

“That’s it!” Barley shouted, his face lighting up with brilliance.

“What’s it?”

“Oh-ho-ho, I have your name, young mage,” Barley said, wagging his index finger.

“Well, what is it?”

“Oh...but I thought you didn’t want a name,” Barley teased.

“Well, yes...I-I mean, no, I didn’t. I mean, yes, I said I didn’t want a name, but...y-you seem to have great ideas for names, so...what’s your name for me? Please tell me!”

“Are you ready for this?”

“Born ready.”

Barley held his breath for a few seconds, then declared, “Julian.”

“Julian?” Ian repeated a little confused, then he laughed a little. “Huh. Julian. I kinda like that.”

“Thought you would.”

“Yeah, it’s-it’s got a nice...ring to it. No pun intended, of course!”

Barley giggled. “Oh, come on, Ian, the whole name is a pun! It’s got your name, but with J-U-L in front.”

“Clever. So...are we ready to enter the dreaded town of Dangarnon now?”

“We sure are.”

Ian took a deep breath in and exhaled. “All right then, let’s go.”

And so, after putting the hoods of their cloaks on over their heads, “Julian” and “Clarence” walked down the hill together towards the gremlin jungle, with the hope of finding Gedeon and the S.S. Medallion within.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 27 ◊

Dangarnon

Approaching the threshold of the village was like approaching the aftermath of a terrible war. No building was perfectly shaped and the sounds of dripping water could be heard. But Ian and Barley readied themselves as they were about to enter gremlin territory.

At what appeared to be the entrance to Dangarnon was a welcome sign on the right side—at least, they were sure it was a welcome sign. Neither brother could tell at first glance. It said WELCOME on it with big, bold letters—though the letters themselves were fading quite a bit. Under it was the word: Population, with several different numbers written next to it, each with question marks. 25? 38? 50? 100? 113? 121? 200? 500? 1000?! And next to 113? was a large capital “A” cutout that randomly sat there next to the sign amongst other miscellaneous pieces of junk. Finally, written below all of the numerous population guesses was a comment in black chalk that read: aw, forget it!

“Huh, looks like they gave up counting ages ago...” Barley remarked.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed, then nervously looking around, he asked, “so...do we just...go in?” A part of him was expecting to see gremlin security standing at the front of the village, making sure to not let any non-gremlin folk inside.

“Well, we’re not going to find Gedeon or the S.S. Medallion by just standing here admiring this welcome sign,” Barley said.

“True,” the younger elf nodded. Then taking another breath in and letting it out, a determined Ian said, “it’s now or never.”

And with that, he and Barley marched forward. They entered the town with both their heads and faces still covered so that no gremlin could recognize them as the Lightfoot brothers or as elves.

Now on the inside, there was much more to see on every corner for a slum village that only seemed to have no more than ten streets. Even at the early hour the brothers were up on their quest, the town was as active as one would expect a regular town to be. Crowded, even. Maybe too crowded. After coming face to face with Gedeon, Ian was amazed to witness this many gremlins all in one place.

There were gremlins sleeping out on the street, gremlins that wore eyepatches, gremlins with missing limbs and legs, gremlins drinking alcohol, gremlins smoking joints, gremlins playing poker, and loads of sketchy gremlin vendors on the street selling either extremely tacky products or forgery items one would most likely mistake as the real deal—like paintings or pirated DVDs.

Then the ears of both teenage elves were attracted to the sound of snapping fingers and out-of-tune strings playing on their left. Barley and Ian both stopped when they noticed that it was a gremlin band, and they all played makeshift instruments made from scraps and garbage. The gremlin up front and center had a cheap toy microphone in his hand and began to sing a verse.

“I was borneth one mornin’, it was drizzlin’ rain,” he sang, snapping his fingers along to the beat. “Fightin’ and trouble is my middle name, I was raised in the caves by an ol’ mama sprite, can’t no high-toned faerie make me do what’s right.”

Just then the sound of drums and wind instruments grew as the singing gremlin then performed what had to be the chorus of the song.

“You loadeth sixteen tons and whaddya get? Another day older and deeper in debt, Sir Peter, nay you call me, ’cause I can’t go, I oath my soul to the company store...”

With that last line, a gremlin playing a scrap-made wind instrument that looked akin to a clarinet stepped up and played some solo notes.

From there, the brothers moved along. The rest of the song became harder for both of them to hear as they walked further away. But regardless, they were only passing by, anyway.

Overall, the whole place spoke to Ian and Barley as the wrong side of the tracks, with no right track to turn to for solace. Even still, there were a lot of sights to take in for a village of pure poverty like this one. Who knows where Gedeon could be in all of it?

From the moment he and his brother had entered Dangarnon, all Ian did was look to his left and right, in search of a certain wicked gremlin that carried a wizard staff and wore an oversized red robe. But no gremlin like that seemed to be turning up yet. Instead, the younger Lightfoot now found himself eyeing a gremlin wearing a brown flat cap and a long, navy blue coat that reached down to his knees. Like a good number of gremlins he and Barley had already passed by that morning, this one had a cigar in his mouth. Taking it out, the gremlin puffed out smoke like Blazey would often do during her naps. Then placing the cigar back in, the gremlin put both his hands inside his coat pockets, and soon noticed that Ian was staring at him.

Giving off daggers, he growled, “what’re you lookin’ at, eh?”

Realizing right away that the gremlin was referring to him, the younger elf felt his heart beat faster. “Oh, uhhh, n-nothing, s-sorry!” Afterwards, he immediately turned away and clenched his teeth in embarrassment. He couldn’t help but wonder at that moment if saying sorry was even worth it in a place like this, where manners seemed nonexistent. It also hadn’t occurred to him until now just how nervous he was to be here, and to be this close to this many gremlins—one of which could be his enemy.

Glancing at Barley, who also just so happened to be looking at him, Ian was now beginning to appreciate the fact that his brother did join him on this journey. How else would he be able to handle this many gremlins on his own? Just their action of staring at him, like he was inadvertently staring at them, was almost enough to make him regret even coming here.

But noting the mortified look on Ian’s face, the older Lightfoot whispered to him, “you good?”

His younger brother answered with a small nod. That was good enough for Barley as he crept a small smile on his face.

But soon the idea of protection seeped deep into the younger Lightfoot’s brain. He decided to innocently, but carefully, slip an arm right through Barley’s, hoping that his older brother would hold onto it and not let go.

Without a second gone by, Barley accepted it without question and held it tight.

Both brothers knew right then in that instant that the last thing either of them wanted was to get separated in this crazy town. They were in this together.

As they continued to walk through the streets of Dangarnon, Barley resumed looking around for Gedeon—having a clear image of his brother’s drawing of the gremlin in his head—while Ian’s eyes focused back and forth between his brother, their arm chain, and the ground they were walking on—which was mostly sand-colored dirt with the occasional piece of broken glass. But holding the older elf’s arm tighter, the young wizard’s thoughts were suddenly fixed on the struggles Barley had about being the perfect father figure for him, and how his brother had been trying to act like one ever since their last quest.

In all the time Ian had thought Barley was selfishly protecting him from trying to give the medallion to the disguised Gedeon, he’d never once even imagined that Barley was trying to be like a father to him. Maybe because he never had a father to begin with, and never knew what it was truly like to have one. It was something the younger Lightfoot had deeply desired for as long as he could remember. But now that he and Barley had met their father—even if it was just his bottom half—Ian felt more inclined to depend on Barley for anything, simply because he was his brother and nothing more.

Yet, here he was, walking through a town with malicious gremlins hanging out in every direction, seeing his brother for the first time since he was a six-year-old scared of thunderstorms as a true protector. His protector. And maybe, just maybe, a father figure. It felt comforting. Truly comforting. Ian knew his brother would like that very much. So he leaned in closer to Barley, and held him even tighter like a son would his father. Finally, the younger elf closed his eyes and smiled—now feeling at peace in this loud, crazy town. It was just like how it was ten years ago, when even then their heads were under something woolen like their cloaks.

Ian’s skull was soon close to resting upon his brother’s shoulder when suddenly there was an excited yell coming from their right.

“Crank calls! Prank calls! Whatever you call ’em! Step right up! Make your call! Take your stab at ruinin’ a poor sap’s day!”

The younger Lightfoot lifted his head away from Barley, but didn’t let go of him just yet. They both glanced in the direction of the gremlin street barker. He was just like all of the other gremlins they’d passed by since they entered Dangarnon. He wore a bowler hat, tattered clothes, no shoes, and had a hole in one of his ears. Right behind him was an old telephone stand, and next to it was a disorganized line of about ten or twenty or so gremlins. They were all fighting with each other over who wanted to use the phone first.

“This should be interesting,” Barley commented. “Let’s watch.”

Normally, Ian would disagree, as everything he’d seen in this village so far was nothing he wanted to get himself involved in. But seeing as they were trying to look for his enemy, who he knew would be less than willing to hand over the S.S. Medallion, the younger elf figured that he could use a laugh right about now.

After a moment of trying to pick someone to go first, the barker selected a tiny-sized gremlin. He stepped up to the line, and dialed a number on the keypad of the telephone. Then he took the phone from the barker, held it to his ear, and waited as it rang—anticipating the random recipient to pick up.

After another couple seconds of vibration, the tiny gremlin said into the phone, “yeah, hi, is this the man of the house?”

There was a pause as the gremlin listened to the voice on the other line.

“Would you like some free money?” he then asked.

More response.

“THEN GET A JOB!” the gremlin suddenly yelled into the receiver. Afterwards, he hung up the phone, and cackled hard. The other gremlins around him joined in on the laughter as well.

“Okay, who’s next?” the barker gremlin said, holding out the phone.

As the gremlins once more fought over who was next, Ian said to his brother, “I couldn’t really hear the person on the other line. Poor guy.”

“Well, let’s get closer!” Barley suggested.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea!”

But the older Lightfoot was already inching closer to the gremlins and their telephone, just as the next gremlin made his way to the stand. He pressed some keys, but as he tried to press the number five key, he felt nothing happen.

“What the—” he said out loud, then he pressed the button vigorously. “Hey! The five button! It’s jammed! How am I supposed ta press da stupid five-five-five now?”

“Aw, who cares about the dumb five?” a female gremlin in the crowd shouted. “Y’all don’t have to do five-five-five every time, ya know!”

“Yeah, just type a bunch of random numbers!” another gremlin suggested.

“Fine...” the gremlin at the phone said. Then after pressing several random numbers, he waited as the phone rang.

It rang, and then—

“Hello?” the person on the other line said. Ian and Barley could hear them this time.

But rather than say anything, the gremlin on the phone took a huge breath in, then let out a large, ghastly burp into the receiver.

Once he was done, the gremlins behind him burst into laughter once more. Then the recipient could be heard saying in offense, “uck! Who is this?!”

But the gremlin placed the phone back onto the stand as he too wanted a share of the snickering. Even Barley and Ian themselves let out a snort or two from the few feet away they were standing.

“Burping into the line? Classic!” the older elf commented. Then elbowing his brother, he added, “hey, we oughta try this on Colt sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe,” the younger Lightfoot said, still giggling a little. Who would’ve thought gremlins could be so funny? Definitely rude and gross, but funny.

“Alrighty, then, who’s up next?” the barker gremlin called out again. He eyed the crowd of those desperately wanting to volunteer, but then looking to his right, he noticed the cloaked and masked Ian and Barley laughing at the exciting commotion. “Aye, you lots!” he called over to them.

Hearing him, the brothers made eye contact with the barker.

“Who, us?” Barley asked.

“Yeah, you! Wanna turn?” the barker asked, making his way toward the brothers reaching the phone as far as he could to them.

“Uh...” an anxious Ian muttered. He didn’t think he would be any good at this sort of thing, but he figured his brother would be. Yet at the same time, he also didn’t want this activity to blow his and Barley’s cover should Gedeon come around out of nowhere.

Sensing his brother’s hesitation, Barley thrusted him forward toward the street as he said to the barker, “thank you, but...maybe some other time.” Then he pushed Ian and himself away from the telephone stand and all the prank callers, and continued to make their way through the rest of Dangarnon.

“Phew! Thanks, Barley,” Ian said, relieved to get away from what could’ve been another embarrassing situation. “Why does this town have to be so busy?”

“Well, makes it less boring, I guess,” the older Lightfoot figured. “Now, back to looking for you-know-who and you-know-what.”

The younger elf let out a small sigh. “I feel like there’s no sign of him anywhere! I hope those Whispering Elms weren’t pulling our legs.”

“Hey, those Whispering Elms might’ve been, um...crazy, but they do know all! Besides, have they been wrong about this place yet? Dangerous? Crawling with gremlins? Absolutely nuts?”

Barley had a point, as usual. All these gremlins sure acted like Gedeon, only they didn’t seem to have magic up their sleeves like him. Still, their foe just had to be here!

“Yeah, I mean, I guess there’s that,” Ian said.

“Don’t you worry, young mage. We’ll find him,” the older elf assured. “It’s only a matter of time before something really jumps out at us.”

Just then, as the brothers were about to pass a building with a large perfectly intact glass window, said window suddenly broke into pieces before their eyes from a rectangular object aggressively tossed right through it that then landed out into the open.

“What was that?” Ian cried, having jumped from the sound of the glass breaking.

The brothers then sprinted towards the source of the window break. It was a thick, red orange book with gold writing.

Barley picked it up, while carefully brushing away the bits of glass that were still on it, then read its title out loud. “‘59: The Most Important and Underappreciated Age Before 60.’”

“That’s a...random name for a book,” Ian said, not really getting why a book like it would even exist, especially after practically spending a whole week on and off with loads of books. “Ah well, sounds like it’s only good for people aged fifty-nine, anyway.”

“Hey, I mean...I’m nineteen, almost twenty. Soon not to be a teenager,” Barley pointed out. “This book could have some value for me.”

“Uh...yeah, not sure if that’s the kind of logic to be taken for something like this.”

Despite his brother’s obvious disinterest, the older Lightfoot began to flip through the pages of the book, anyway, unable to contain his curiosity. “Let’s see...hoo boy, there’s a lot of pages in here...” Then he realized, “oh, wait...59...fifty-nine chapters! Of course! There’s a simple solution to this, dear brother...”

“Leave this book where we found it and keep looking for you-know-who?”

“No...” Barley said, leaving his sentence hanging as he tried searching for a specific page. When he found it, he went “Aha!” then read out loud from it. “‘Chapter 19,’ get it?”

“Yeah, got it.”

“‘Let’s be real, you still look like you’re in your forties to most people. Embrace it.’”

Definitely not your book, Barley, Ian thought to himself, annoyed.

“Soooo...does that mean I look thirteen to most people?” the older elf asked his brother after a moment of thinking.

“What? Pfft! No,” the younger Lightfoot said with a grin. “Of course not! Seriously, that book knows nothing!”

“Oh, so...what age do you think I look like, then?”

At that moment, Ian felt stuck. Barley was his brother, but after spending a good five minutes or so walking through Dangarnon thinking about him as his father figure, the younger elf didn’t know what to answer. Did Barley actually look like the same age their father was when he died?

“Uh...” the younger Lightfoot began to answer nervously. But before he could say anything else, both brothers heard a voice coming from inside the building with the broken window.

“HEY! Hey, you! Gimme my book back!”

A lanky, grumpy-looking gremlin with graying hair marched towards the window. He clearly seemed like the kind of person who didn’t like toys accidentally thrown into his yard.

“Well, hello to thee, good sir. Are you by any chance Mr. 59?” Barley asked him.

“None of your business, strangers!” the angry gremlin answered. “My darn wife got me that book! And though I have no interest in readin’ it at her suggestion, I’d still like to use it to hit thangs...and maybe even use it to hit busybodies...”

“Uh...y-yeah, okay...sure...w-we didn’t really want this book, anyway, right?” Ian said nervously, then eyeing Barley—who still had the book clutched tightly in his hands—he repeated, “right?!”

“Are you kidding?!” the older Lightfoot cried, beginning to fume. “This book could be worth a fortune someday, and this guy here wants to waste it by using it as a throwing axe?!” Then turning back to the gremlin, Barley said, “books are not the best choice of bludgeon, sir.”

As Ian feared, this only made the gremlin angrier.

“Why, you stinkin’, insolent know-it-all...” he said with seething teeth as he began to roll up his sleeves. “I’ll show you...”

Trudging closer to the brothers in a menacing manner, Ian and Barley began to back away in fear of what this furious citizen might do to them. But Ian for one didn’t want to stick around to find out.

“RUN!” he shouted, then grabbing the older elf, they both dashed for it.

“HEY! Come back here! I’m not finished with you!” the gremlin shouted at the brothers from where he stood, then popping his head out the front door, he could see that they were still running. So he decided to bolt right after them.

The brothers were now back on the streets of Dangarnon, running as fast as they could away from the middle-aged gremlin.

“You really had to make him mad, huh?!” Ian chastised at his brother.

“I was just making a friendly suggestion!” Barley insisted.

“Yeah, well, one of these days, your ‘friendly’ suggestions are going to get us killed!”

“LOOK OUT!” At that moment, Barley pushed Ian aside as he realized from glancing behind that the gremlin chasing them had now gathered a bunch of oranges from one of the fruit stands and began to throw them at the brothers.

“HA! How do you like them oranges?!” the gremlin yelled at them as he threw one orange after another. “Take this!”

Barley instantly brandished his sword, and sliced the oncoming fruit that the gremlin aimed at him and his brother. But not wanting to get bombarded by the hard juicy oranges or expose his magic, Ian quickly looked around and spotted what looked to be a narrow alleyway. Then he grabbed Barley’s muscular arm again and cried, “come on, this way!”

As the brothers traversed through what Ian thought to be a useful shortcut, Barley said, “Ian, this might lead to a dead end!”

“Or it might not! It seems pretty long...” the younger elf urged.

“Or it has another way out! Look! Paths!” the older Lightfoot said excitedly as he and his brother reached an intersection within the closed space. As they both stopped before it and took a breather, Barley asked, “which way, Sir Julian?”

“Uh...I dunno, you pick!”

But soon Ian’s ears picked up on the gremlin they were running from again.

“COME BACK HERE, YOU BRUTES! YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE!”

He had found them in the alleyway!

“Barley...hurry,” the younger Lightfoot whispered worriedly.

“My gut is telling me...” Barley mused as he felt his gut, “that right is right, let’s go!”

So the brothers turned right at the intersection of alleyways, with the older elf feeling positive that this was the way out of their predicament. As Ian ran behind his brother, he thought he heard the mad gremlin yell, “GIMME BACK MY BOOK!”

“Uh...you didn’t happen to bring that 59 book with you, did you?”

Biting his lip in guilt, Barley answered, “I...might’ve.”

“Chantar’s Talon, Barley! It’s the book that he wants! Maybe if we give it back, he’ll stop chasing us!”

“Oh, come on! That book means nothing to him! And even if it was, this seems like the perfect place to steal stuff if we want it! No cops, no authority...”

The brothers then heard loud growls coming from their angry gremlin.

“Not the time! He’s gaining on us! Just give the guy his book!”

“Oh, all right...” the older Lightfoot surrendered. He stopped short, then facing the gremlin, he threw the book at him like he would a football. It went high into the air until finally, it hit the mean gremlin hard on the head! So hard in fact, that he then collapsed forward with swirling eyes.

Ian grimaced as he witnessed the gremlin feel the pain in his head. Meanwhile, Barley cheered, “HA-HA! How do you like them books?”

“Let’s get out of here!” the younger elf cried, then he and his brother ran for it again, leaving the book behind while their chaser was distracted recovering from his head pain.

After a few moments of coming to, the gremlin lifted a leg up and looked straight ahead muttering, “why, you little—” only to find that the meddlers of his property were gone. “Curses! Where’d they get off to now?”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 28 ◊

The Hangar of Misfit Gremlins

Reaching the end of their alleyway passage, Ian and Barley stopped their running and panted for breath. It didn’t take long for them to realize that they were now on the edge of town. There were no more disheveled buildings, nor a single gremlin crowd in sight. Only each other, the view of more sandy dirt, mountains on the horizon, and a large old abandoned hangar about fifty feet away.

“I think...we lost him...thank Zadar...” Ian finally said, still letting out short, quick breaths from the exertion.

“Yep...we sure did,” Barley concurred, equally exhausted. But the younger elf could tell from the solemness in his brother’s voice that the older Lightfoot was feeling a little disappointed. Thankfully, he knew exactly why.

As soon as they were both done taking a breather, Ian stepped closer to Barley and put a light comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey...I-I know in the last five minutes you got to know each other that that book meant a lot to you,” the younger Lightfoot said.

But the older elf remained quiet, giving Ian the impression that losing this book was perhaps in some ways to his brother not so different from losing Guinevere. After all, both had defended the two of them from chases that needed an end. But with that in mind, the younger elf had an idea.

“Whaddya say, after all this is over, we look it up on Valkyrie Prime and see if they have it in stock?”

Barley gave that a moment of thought, then he looked at his brother. “Would it even be the same, though? I mean, that book is from a town we’ve never been to before, much less heard of until yesterday.”

“I know, but...it came from a gremlin who tried to kill us, and it’s not even the gremlin we’re trying to find. Speaking of which—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” the older Lightfoot interrupted. “But really, you should know that on a quest, souvenirs of a great encounter marketh the memory of a grand adventure.”

“Ah, another one of Barley the Bold’s vital questing tips...noted,” Ian said sarcastically.

“I’m serious! I don’t know, I guess I just thought...maybe...that book could have been a great souvenir for this quest.”

The younger Lightfoot darted his eyes to the side and furrowed his brows. Once again, his brother was making this whole journey about the experience. As much as Ian wanted to find Gedeon already, he also remembered at that moment that for the older elf, quests weren’t always about the destination.

So his tone now serious, Ian asked his brother, “what even was the souvenir from our last quest? I mean, it’s not like we were able to save anything from that.”

“Actually, we did,” Barley corrected. “It’s right around your neck.”

The younger elf let out a small gasp, then he searched under his cloak, and under his shirt for his tiny wizard staff, and held it out. After that big chase just now, it was still there. That gave him a huge sigh of relief. But now his eyes focused upon the small splinter, Ian got down to wondering how he could’ve possibly forgotten that their very first real quest together gave them his staff, and how he could’ve forgotten that this staff was a small piece of his father’s staff. Barley was right. It was a souvenir. A lucky one at that. The younger Lightfoot smiled as he held the chain, and looked up to notice that his brother was now smiling, too. Then he put it back where it was until it was time to use it.

“So, status report, what do we do now?” Ian asked, changing the subject. “I mean, we’re literally at the end of Dangarnon!”

“Yeah, I know,” Barley agreed. “And Gedeon doesn’t seem to be anywhere.”

The younger elf sighed heavily. “Look, I-I know this is a quest and everything, Barley, but...I really don’t want to believe we’ve come all this way for nothing. I mean, if we can’t find him, if-if he’s not here—”

“It’ll be fine, Ian,” the older elf said, trying to calm his brother down. “I think we just need a different approach.”

“What kind of approach?”

“Well, let’s look at what we’ve done so far...” Barley thought aloud as he and Ian decided to take a walk down the dirt away from the village. “As an expert Quest Master, I know that certain approaches work better than others, it just depends on the situation at hand. So far, all we’ve done is walk around and look around, trying not to draw too much attention to ourselves, but...maybe that’s not enough.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“I know you don’t want our covers blown, but look at us! We’re as covered as can be! Thick as thieves! And has anyone pointed to us saying we’re not gremlins yet?”

“Well...no, not exactly.”

“Precisely! So I suggest we head back over to the village, go up to some of the locals, and ask them if they know Gedeon and where he is, simple!”

“I don’t know, Barley...maybe they just haven’t noticed we aren’t gremlins yet because we haven’t come that close to any gremlins yet.”

“Yeah, well, what about prank caller guy or angry throwing guy? Did they think we weren’t gremlins?”

“I mean...no, but just because they didn’t say it, doesn’t mean they weren’t thinking it.”

“Maybe you think too much.”

Frowning, but smiling, Ian playfully nudged an elbow at Barley. “Shut up. Besides, I’m not even sure if any of these gremlins will talk. We might just get ourselves more muddled up than we should be. I-I mean, it’s not like we’re going to run into anyone who knows exactly where Gedeon—”

Just then, the younger Lightfoot felt something big and flat bump right into him. Looking over to his left, he realized that it was a gremlin carrying a huge cardboard box that didn’t look entirely well-put together—what with the duct tape it appeared to have on its corners. The box was also filled to the brim with a variety of small nuts and bolts, and the bump had caused a few of them to fall out. As one of the pieces was about to drop to the ground, the gremlin carrying the box caught it right in the nick of time.

“Gotcha ya lil’ rascal of a nut!” he said with a chipper smile. “Now to the plane with—DAAH!” It was then that the gremlin noticed what—or rather who—exactly he ran into that had caused him to drop a couple of his parts. Two strangers: masked and hooded. After a gulp, he walked around them, and said rather nervously, “o-o-oh, dear...o-oh, no, uh...hi...s-s-sorry...uh...didn’t mean ta, uh...get in your ways. Heh...heh...”

Barley and Ian looked at each other with confusion. This gremlin was definitely the most jittery one they’d seen all day. But seeing as they were just discussing whether or not to question the gremlins about where their foe could be, they both figured at that moment: why not start with this one?

So Barley began to ask, “hey, do you know—”

“NO, I KNOW NOTHIN’!” the box carrying gremlin suddenly shouted as he continued to mysteriously shake in fear. His jitters only caused even more nuts and bolts to fall out of his box. “P-please...please don’t hurt me!” He then began to walk backwards towards the hangar, and used a hand to reach for the knob on the singular door to the inside. “Y-y-you don’t h-hurt me...and I won’t h-h-hurt you...” Finally locating the knob, he opened the door, and when he and his box were halfway inside, he said as bravely as he could, “now...g-good day, gentlemen. Bye!” Then he slammed the door closed, but despite the impact he gave it, the door opened back up a little as if it couldn’t be shut all the way.

The brothers stared at it for a moment, bewildered.

“Well, that was...interesting,” Ian finally said.

The younger elf then stepped forward and knelt down to pick up one of the bolts the gremlin had accidentally dropped from the box. As he furrowed his brows looking at it—wondering why in the realms a gremlin would be carrying a box full of nuts and bolts in the first place—he suddenly heard the sounds of loud, muffled machinery coming from behind that door.

His curiosity growing, Ian approached the door—noticing that one of its hinges was broken—and opened it slowly. It creaked a little, but he sort of expected that from a door that couldn’t close. Then he peeked his head inside up to his nose, and his eyes widened.

“Uh...Barley, you might wanna see this...” he said.

“What is it?” the older Lightfoot asked, coming up to the door. Peeking his own head inside, too, his mouth went agape.

They both saw it in the center of that large hangar: an airplane, and amongst it were a few more—each with broken wings and snapped propellers.

“Planes,” Barley finally said.

“Yeah, planes they’re probably chewing apart, I’ll bet,” Ian added. He remembered from the Manticore’s story yesterday that of all things, an airplane was a gremlin’s favorite thing to tear apart. And now here he and his brother were, likely to see some gremlins do just that. “I still don’t really get what they find so fun about that. They destroy it, and then what do they do? Destroy another one? Doesn’t that get boring?”

“Hey, look! There’s Mr. Nuts and Bolts over there!”

Barley pointed to the box gremlin he and Ian had just run into outside. Both their eyes on the figure, they noticed him making his way towards the center aircraft—no longer shaking in fear.

“Yeah? And just what is he going to do with those?” the younger Lightfoot wondered with suspicion. But before he and Barley could theorize any further, they both heard voices coming from the plane in question.

“Yo, Torquil, hand me that wrench, will ya? I gotta tighten this bolt here!” said one of the gremlins, whose voice sounded feminine.

“You got it. As soon as I’m done connectin’ these crazy wires!” another gremlin responded back.

Wait a minute. Tightening? Connecting? To the brothers, something seemed off. Why would gremlins need to do any of that to destroy a plane? Wasn’t that what their teeth and claws were for?

But soon the box gremlin approached the two gremlins who were just talking.

“Ah, Ax, you’re back!” Torquil said, acknowledging him. They then hopped off the plane and rubbed their hands together. “Got the supply of nuts and bolts we need?”

“Sure do!” Ax said happily as he dropped the box of metal pieces before his companions. Then he put a hand on his forehead, brushing off sweat. “Boy, is it heavy...”

“Hey, ya wouldn’t happen to have a square bolt in there, would ya?” the female gremlin still standing on the plane asked. She held up the bolt she was just trying to tighten seconds ago. “This hex bolt I have here won’t fit.”

“No problem!” Ax said. Using his claws, he began to dig through the disorganized box of nuts and bolts. “Uh, let’s see...square bolt...square bolt...square bolt...oh, where is the darn thang?”

Ian and Barley continued to watch the gremlins from behind the door, still confused over what exactly they were up to with that plane. But then Ian realized something. He held up his hand and noticed...he had a square bolt! Furrowing his brows and standing up, the younger elf opened the door wider and went through it—intent on giving these gremlins what they wanted.

This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Barley. “Ian, what are you doing? Ian!”

But Ian didn’t listen to his brother’s desperate whispers. Instead, he kept on walking towards the gremlins. Somehow, he had a hunch that these particular gremlins were bent on building rather than destroying.

With that decision clearly made, Barley decided to follow his brother, in case this group of gremlins turned out to be any trouble.

Meanwhile, Ax kept searching in the big box for the bolt his gremlin pal wanted, much to the growing impatience of his comrades. But it was tricky for him to find a specific bolt when most of the nuts and bolts looked almost exactly alike.

“There’s gotta be one in here somewhere...” he muttered. “Where is it?”

Just then, the younger Lightfoot approached the gremlins. “Uh, excuse me?” All three of them looked up from the box of nuts and bolts and noticed him. As soon as they did, Ian held up the bolt. “Yeah, hi. Uh, is this—”

“EEK!” Ax shrieked. He jerked right up, almost tripping over the box and spilling the small pieces of metal all over the floor. “Wh-wh-what are yous doin’ in here?! I told you ‘good day’!”

“Oh, uh, s-sorry,” Ian said, taken aback just as Barley joined his side. “We-we don’t mean to, uh, disturb you and your, uh...plane?”

The two brothers were now much closer to the aircraft, and it was quite big and impressive. Still not a well-built plane, but could definitely get there with more time and work.

“Whaddya want?” Torquil asked with a hint of skepticism in their voice.

The younger elf held up the square bolt again, determined to offer these gremlins his gracious assistance. “Uh...is, uh, is this by any chance what you’re looking for?”

The female gremlin beamed as soon as she saw it. “Why, yes, it is!”

“We’ll take that gladly, thank you,” Torquil said, now smiling. They stepped forward, took the bolt from Ian, and gave it to their co-worker—who was still tingling with joy.

“You’re welcome,” the younger Lightfoot said with a smile of his own.

“So I guess we shall be on our way now,” Barley said as he was about to turn for the door, but not before giving a small bow to the three gremlins. “Happy to be of service.”

But as the older elf and Ian started to make their way back over to the single door they came through, they were stopped by two more gremlins who also looked like they were a part of this supposed plane crew.

“Say...I’ve never seen you two around here befores,” said one of the gremlins. He had a distinctive scar on his left eyebrow.

“You got names?” the gremlin next to him asked. A now nervous Ian couldn’t help but notice that this one was missing a finger.

“Why, yes, we do, my good gents,” Barley answered, perfectly chill.

“Well, spit ‘em out!” scarbrow gremlin demanded.

Ian was hesitant, but he figured it was the least he could do after offering the bolt and giving Ax the creeps. “Oh, well, I’m Ia—OW!” Barley gave him a hard punch in the arm. That’s when the younger elf remembered he and the older Lightfoot had code names and that he was supposed to be using it. “I mean, um...I’m, uh...Julian.”

“And I’m Clarence,” Barley said with ease. Ian could tell from the look on his brother’s face that the older elf was also saying directly to him, see, I told you these names would come in handy.

“Juls and Clars, I see...” scarbrow gremlin mused. Then he and his missing finger partner began to closely skulk around the brothers. “And just what are you Juls and Clars doin’ lurkin’ around in our hangar?”

“N-nothing,” Ian said, getting more anxious by the minute not knowing why these particular gremlins were so interested in him and his brother. “We just, uh...w-we wanted to return this bolt is all.”

“Oh, yeah? Then whatcha hidin’ under theres?” missing finger gremlin inquired, clearly indicating the hooded cloaks and eye masks the brothers were wearing.

“Not a thing,” Barley answered with confidence. “Cloaks and eye masks are in season here in Dangarnon. Certainly nothing wrong with that, right?”

Ian really hoped these two nosy gremlins would buy that excuse and let him and Barley go already. If there was anyone he knew who was good at making up excuses, it was his own brother. But just then, the younger Lightfoot felt a rough tug at the back of his head.

Uh-oh, he thought. But before he could do anything to stop it, scarbrow gremlin grabbed the hood of his cloak and forced it down!

“Hey!” Ian cried. With a part of his identity exposed, he was now on the verge of panicking.

Seeing this, Barley was about to intervene and help his brother, but then the missing finger gremlin also snuck up from behind and unhooded him as well!

“Gotcha!” the gremlin with the missing finger happily declared.

As he and his scarbrow pal took the time to look at Barley and Ian all around—now growing surprised looks and realizing the species they truly were—the other three gremlins at the plane glanced up and paused their work as soon as they saw the same thing. Then they ran over to join their other two companions in surrounding the Lightfoot brothers.

“Elves? In these parts?” Torquil questioned.

“Yes...” the scarbrow gremlin answered, then he smirked. “Very interestin’...”

Ian and Barley were trapped. Their disguises had turned against them. These gremlins now knew that they weren’t actually gremlins. Who knows what they were planning to do with them?

“What do we do now?” the younger elf whispered to Barley.

His brother just had to have a plan to get them out of this situation. After all, talking to the gremlins in Dangarnon was his idea. Then again, Ian figured if it weren’t for himself wanting to be generous to these particular gremlins, they probably wouldn’t be in this mess. He then noticed the older elf withdrawing his sword, which gave the younger Lightfoot a good indication that he should probably draw out his wizard staff, too. He was about to do just that, and join his brother in taking out these gremlins, when suddenly, there came a shout from above.

“HEY! LAY OFF, GUYS, WILL YA?!”

Everyone turned to look. It came from high up on one of the balconies in the hangar, and up there was a silhouette in the shadows. Soon the figure who shouted jumped down to be on ground level with everyone else and revealed herself to be another gremlin.

Walking towards the group, she added, “these fellas won’t do anythin’ to hurt us! They don’t even know what we’re doin’.”

“And who might you be?” asked Barley, lowering his sword.

“Call me Rebel,” she answered with a wink, then she gestured to the other gremlins, “and this, here, is my crew.” Motioning to the gremlin with the missing finger, she said, “that there is Diesel, the one with the scar is Crowley...”

“Hey!” Crowley cried.

“Forgive him, he’s our defender,” Rebel said to the brothers. “I know deep down that that scar of his is his pride and joy.” Then signaling to the gremlins who were just working on the plane, Rebel continued with the introductions. “And this is Screwy, Torquil, and finally, we have Axel.”

“W-w-we already met,” Ax said awkwardly.

“You’ll have to excuse him, too. He’s new,” Rebel added to the side, then she spoke louder. “Just joined our gang about two weeks ago.” Then walking back over to join the rest of her friends, as if they were gathering together for a group photo, she said proudly, “together, we’re the Rebels.”

Ian was spellbound. He’d entered this place thinking these gremlins needed help, then thought for a minute there that they weren’t actually nice at all, and now here he was, wondering what exactly it was this group of gremlins did. But looking around the hangar—eyeing the plane at the center, the other planes, and knowing what it was gremlins usually did—he had a pretty good idea.

“So...you guys...build planes?” he finally guessed.

“We sure do!” Rebel confirmed.

“Wow, that’s...very—”

“Wrong?” Screwy assumed.

“Wasteful?” Diesel surmised.

“Lame?” Axel suspected.

“Dainty?” Torquil figured.

“Not destructive?” Crowley concluded.

“I was going to say...cool,” Ian said. “Like, really cool!” He then walked back over to the plane the gremlins were working on and looked at it from its front. “You built this plane all by yourselves?”

Rebel giggled. “Does a car have wheels?”

Ian took that as a yes as he continued to admire the aircraft.

“This is AWESOME!” Barley said, once again joining his brother in taking in the plane’s beauty. 

“Why, thank you,” Rebel said, grinning from ear to ear. Turning back to her crew, she signaled for them all to get back to doing what they were doing before the brothers had arrived, and they all disbanded. Then walking up to the two teenage elves, she told them, “we’ve worked really hard on this. It’s actually not the first plane we’ve built.”

“Yes, we-we can see that,” Ian said, eyeing the other planes that hung out on the sides of the hangar.

“We build ‘em, then we try and get them off the ground. So far, our planes haven’t gotten very far. But you know what they say, ‘practice makes progress.’”

“We test fly ‘em out there!” Screwy added excitedly, coming up to the group of three. She pointed at the garage window to the outside where the front of the plane was facing. “A huge field with loads of room for flyin’!”

“Those days are fun,” Torquil continued. “We all get together, and one or two of us gets in that plane and flies it while the rest of us do ground control.”

“Is it safe?” Ian asked.

“Usually it is, yes,” Rebel assured. “None of us has ever really gotten seriously hurt doin’ it.”

“That’s good. But I mean...wow, this is...this is just amazing. I-I’ve only ever built model planes...but nothing like this.”

“Yeah, it’s a blast! All of us here have studied aircraft mechanics by readin’ books about it, but it’s nothin’ compared to actually doin’ it—gettin’ our hands dirty and all that.”

Just then, Diesel came around the plane, carrying a big plate. Offering it out to the group, he said, “hey, everyone, just made lunch. My specialty.”

“Awesome! Thanks, Deez,” Rebel said, grabbing what was on the plate. Screwy and Torquil then did the same. To the Lightfoot brothers, Rebel added, “Diesel, here, is our main chef. The absolute best! He does most of our cookin’.”

Diesel then offered the plate of food to Ian and Barley. “Would you guys like to try it? I made plenty for everyone.”

“What is it?” Ian asked.

“Oh! It’s a sandwich of raw, floppy spaghetti, oatmeal, and the best part: syrup. Sweet, delicious syrup! All placed together with two slices of toasted bread. I call it: the Diesel Special.”

Ian had heard of plenty of strange food combinations, but this was a whole other level for him. Grinning politely, he said, “uh...no, thank you.”

Barley, meanwhile, was tempted.

“Suit yourself,” Diesel said, not offended. Then he placed the huge plate of sandwiches on the nearest workbench. “But if you change your minds, the plate’s right here, in case you’d like a first taste or seconds.” Afterwards, he walked off.

“Thanks, Deez,” Torquil called to him.

Then there was a silence. As the gremlin pilots ate their sandwiches, they were itching to get back to their plane. But they didn’t want to leave their new elf guests out. Luckily, Rebel wasn’t the silent type for long and was able to fill the gap in no time.

“I don’t suppose you fellas want a tour of our hangar, do ya?” she asked. “I’d be more than happy to give you one. That way, I can let these knuckleheads get back to work.”

“Uh...I’m not sure,” Ian began to say, then he turned to Barley. “C-Clarence, what do you think?” It still felt weird for him to say that name to his own brother. But regardless, as much as the younger elf wanted to get back to searching for Gedeon, he was already enjoying being here so much, like it was a safe place amidst all the chaos of Dangarnon. He hoped his brother would say yes.

Noticing the wanting look in Ian’s eyes, Barley thought saying no would disappoint him. But he also knew how much he wanted to find Gedeon already. As much as this was their brotherly quest, he also knew that it was a quest that wouldn’t have been possible without his younger brother. So with a smile, he said, “doesn’t matter what I think. Your call, Julian.”

Ian smiled back at his brother, realizing now at this moment that they’d come to an understanding. And it was an understanding that the younger Lightfoot didn’t want to take for granted. Turning back to Rebel, Ian said, “we’d love a tour. Lead the way, Rebel! That is, uh...you are the leader of this whole thing, right?”

Rebel laughed. “You could say that, yes. But here, we treat each other like equals. After all, we all want the same thang.” Facing away from the plane, she began to lead the elf brothers on her tour. “Follow me, fellas! You guys are the first guests we’ve had in like, EVER!”

Doing as told, Ian happily began to follow the lead gremlin. Barley did, too, but not before making a sneaky grab for one of Diesel’s sandwiches.

◊ ◊ ◊

“You’ve, of course, met the plane,” Rebel began as she took the Lightfoot brothers to another side of the flying machine. Then her face lit up as she immediately remembered something. “Oh! I almost forgot! Her name is Linda.”

“Wow! You name your planes, too?!” Barley said, amazed.

“Why, yes! We believe namin’ our transportation makes them as much a part of the family as we are.”

“Oh my Zadar! I feel the exact same way!”

While Ian was glad that Barley was now getting as into this as he was, he also couldn’t help but wonder if his brother was getting a little too excited, judging from the confused look on Rebel’s face. Luckily, it didn’t take long for Barley to recognize this himself.

“Oh, uh...we call our van Guinevere the Second, so...”

“Ahh,” Rebel said, now understanding.

“You...you wouldn’t wreck her, would you?” Ian hesitantly asked, realizing what bringing up their van could mean. “Do you...wreck other vehicles?”

“Only ones that don’t run,” Rebel answered. “When they can’t run, there’s no use in it keepin’ its parts.”

Barley and Ian both let out sighs of relief. Whether these gremlins wrecked functioning cars or not, they were still glad to have left Guinevere in Dangarnon Forest.

“So, anyways...” Rebel resumed. “That’s Linda. She’s a two-ish seater mini plane, an ultralight plane as we fancy aircraft engineers call ‘em. We’ve been workin’ on her for the past few months. She probably won’t be flyin’ for another several weeks or so, but we’ll see. We’ve been workin’ hard every day to get each plane we make functional.”

“That’s really neat,” Ian said.

“Now for the rest of the place! It’s not much, but for us, it’s home.” Rebel then led the teenage elves to a workbench. “Each of us has their own workbench. This is mine, and everyone else’s is scattered all over the place. The one with Diesel’s sandwiches is actually Torquil’s cuz they get hungry the most out of the six of us. Diesel’s is actually near our kitchen, which I’ll show you in a little bit.” From there, she pointed out everyone else’s workbenches throughout the hangar. “That’s Screwy’s, Crowley’s, and our new member, Axel’s workbenches.”

Ian and Barley nodded as their eyes were directed to each bench. They could tell these gremlins were organized and had a system. To them, it made the tour all the more impressive.

“Now onto the kitchen!” Rebel said, clapping her hands together. Then she once again led the way as the Lightfoot brothers followed.

Making their way to the kitchen area—which was in the far left corner of the hangar—the teenage elves and the lead gremlin met Diesel again, who was preparing another dish.

“And this is our kitchen!” Rebel announced. Having gotten Diesel’s attention, she told him, “I’m givin’ Julian and Clarence, here, a tour of our hangar.”

Diesel nodded with a smile.

Soon Crowley walked in, but as he noticed Ian and Barley standing there, his face became grumpy. He walked right over to Rebel.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” he whispered to her. Then without giving her the chance to respond, he dragged Rebel over to the side, away from the elf brothers.

As Rebel talked with Crowley, Barley watched Diesel’s preparations and asked him, “so, star chef, what’s cookin’?”

Diesel laughed. “Great chefs never reveal their secrets.”

“Fair enough. But that sandwich...” Barley paused and gave a chef’s kiss.

The gremlin cook became flattered. “You liked it?”

“Oh, I LOVE when other people make my sandwiches. This one might just be my new favorite.”

Diesel was becoming super enamored with Barley’s praise that the gremlin could’ve sworn that he was almost blushing. But he decided to get back to business and resume his work on the chocolate bar he began working on cutting up with his large knife.

Meanwhile, Ian—while impressed with Diesel’s preparations himself—looked over both Barley and Diesel’s shoulders, wondering what it was Rebel and Crowley were talking about in the several feet away that they were from them. Both the gremlins spoke at a very low volume.

“Why are they still here?” Crowley asked Rebel.

“They’re our guests,” Rebel answered as if it were obvious.

“Not all guests should be considered guests.”

“Come now, Crowley, they aren’t horrible people. I don’t think they’re even from here.”

“That ain’t much better! And how do you know? Did you ask?”

“Well...”

“You shouldn’t assume if you never asked!” Crowley took a moment, then he added, “oh well...doesn’t matter to me, I want them out of here.”

“Crowley—”

“OUT OF HERE!” 

The scarbrow gremlin’s yell was loud enough for the whole hangar to hear. Everyone, including Ian and Barley, turned to look at him.

Immediately embarrassed by his outburst, Crowley said quietly to Rebel, “I’m gonna get some air.” Then shaking his head ashamed, he walked over to the single door that was right behind him, opened it, and shut it behind him. At least that door was able to close properly.

Rebel stared at the door for a moment and sighed before turning and walking back to Ian and Barley. It didn’t matter to her what Crowley thought. She had a tour to finish.

“Now then...on with the tour?” she asked the brothers, trying her best to put on the happiest face she possibly could.

Ian and Barley looked at each other, then they both silently nodded to her. Like before, Rebel led the way again, taking the brothers to a tall ladder that led all the way up to the balconies of the hangar. Observing closer, they noticed it was actually one huge balcony that encircled the inside of the hangar.

“Alrighty, who wants to climb up first?” Rebel asked.

“Can it only hold one person at a time?” Ian asked.

“Oh, no, no, no, I meant who wanted to be first in line.”

The brothers glanced at each other again, until Barley said with a gentlemanly bow, “m’ladies first.”

“Okay then,” Rebel obliged with a smile. Afterwards, she grabbed onto the ladder and began to climb, with Ian, then Barley following behind her.

As they climbed, Ian couldn’t stop thinking about what Rebel and Crowley were talking about back at the kitchen area, and why out of nowhere Crowley made a scene and left the hangar. It almost reminded him of when he’d stormed out of Barley’s room earlier that week just because his brother didn’t want him to take the medallion to Gedeon. He wondered if maybe the two gremlins had a similar situation. He didn’t want this thought to come out and explode, so he figured he’d just ask Rebel himself what happened.

“So, uh...if you don’t mind me asking, Rebel, what did Crowley want to talk to you about? And why did he leave like that?”

Rebel sighed again. “You know as a gremlin I’d hate to hurt the feelins’ of a couple of elves, but...he doesn’t want you hangin’ out here.”

“Why? What did we do?” asked Barley, now equally curious.

“Oh, you didn’t do anythin’. Crowley’s just...” she paused.

“He’s what?” Ian asked.

“He’s—oh, we’re here!”

Before the three of them knew it, they had made it to the top of the balcony, and each of them got off the ladder one by one. Rebel then had the Lightfoot brothers take a look from where they stood.

“Ain’t that a view?” she asked them.

From up above, the brothers could see the top of the plane and the entirety of the hangar. It was all so big!

“Whoooa,” Barley said.

“It’s...wonderful,” Ian said.

“Thought you’d like it,” Rebel said. “I hang out up here to oversee progress. After all, you can’t get somethin’ done without lookin’ at it from all sides. It was what I was doin’ when you both showed up here. Now, come on, there’s just one other thang for us to see up here other than the view.”

Walking together on the balcony, Rebel led the brothers into its one room. Stepping in, she turned on the room’s light switch, and the space lit up like a cozy fireplace. Ian and Barley then peeked in themselves and saw six pillows and six blankets all on six beds spread out around the small room. They figured without even having to guess that this had to be the bedroom.

“The last spot on our tour, fellas,” Rebel said, standing in the middle of the room. “Our one room!”

The brothers continued to look at it from the outside. Like everything else, it was certainly special.

“Don’t be shy, come on in!” Rebel encouraged, gesturing for the teenage elves to come inside.

Ian stepped in first, then Barley. They were both almost too tall for the doorway.

“Wow, this looks...snug,” the younger elf said. “You all sleep in here?”

“Sure do,” Rebel answered, now sitting on what was likely her bed. “It’s not perfect, but we’ve been able to manage for about a year now.”

The two brothers also sat on beds in order to not feel totally cramped in the space. They chose ones that were next to each other and across from Rebel.

“Well, I think it’s lovely,” Barley complimented. To him, it was almost like the back of Guinevere the Second.

“Awww, thank you.”

Ian didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he was still curious about what happened earlier. So he reminded the lead gremlin delicately, “so, you were saying about Crowley?”

“Oh, right,” Rebel remembered, then she took a breath in and let it out. “As great as this place is, and how fun it is for us to build our dream, it’s never really been easy for us in the long run. You probably know this or you don’t, but us gremlins don’t usually do this kind of thang.”

“Yeah, we...we know,” Barley said.

“But the fact is, we do. And it’s what we want to do. It’s what we secretly wanted to do our whole lives. And our whole lives we’ve been told we couldn’t do that, and it made us miserable. So when we were old enough—at least for me—my parents kicked me out of their house, then me and my pals, here, got together, and bought out this, here, abandoned hangar at the edge of town and began a venture of what we hope can become a business someday.”

“A business?” Ian questioned. “So, like...you want to build planes for Dangarnon? And-and the whole realm?”

“You could say that, yeah. What we want to do is change society. Change the norms. Make everyone stop believin’ gremlins are nothin’ but scary, machine destroyin’ monsters. Cuz for some of us, that’s just not who we are.”

There was a moment of silence. Ian, Barley, and Rebel sat there quietly, contemplating what the gremlin just revealed. After everything the brothers had seen in Dangarnon today, they could now see that it wasn’t just full of criminals, it was also full of people that had it rough. And some of those people, like Rebel and her crew, really needed the help and support.

After processing it all, Ian finally said to the lead gremlin, “well, I don’t think you’re scary...I don’t think you’re scary at all. You’re the exact opposite.” This made Rebel look up in surprise. “I think what you, Crowley, Diesel, all of you are doing is going to change the world someday. I feel like we need people like you in this world.”

Rebel felt absolutely touched. “Really? You...you really think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” Barley added. “Take it from us, those who care will come around and have your back in the end.”

“Wow...thank you, guys. This is really, really nice of you!” The gremlin then chuckled. “And it’s funny, I know we’ve just met and all, but I feel as though we’re already becomin’ the best of friends. Who woulda thought, two elves and a gremlin? Friends! Now this is history in the makin’ right here!”

The brothers’ faces began to fall, especially Ian’s. It was true, they were already becoming close with a gremlin who wasn’t a mean, nasty, and wicked gremlin like Gedeon. But the fact was, she still didn’t know their real names, or who they really were, and that they were on a very important quest.

But in the middle of their pensive thinking, Rebel asked, “so, where are you two from? I mean, I wanna say y’all are not from here cuz I’ve never seen yous two around the village before. Not that I go to the village that much anymore, anyways, but—”

“We’re from New Mushroomton,” Barley answered.

“Oh! Well, that’s not too, too far from here. Definitely not a typical place for gremlins to be in, that's for sures. Is that why you’re wearin’ those cloaks and masks?”

Ian and Barley each held a piece of their cloaks as Rebel asked about them. Then the younger elf said, “y-yeah, w-we wanted to pretend to be gremlins, you know, to blend in.”

For a moment, Rebel had a stoic look on her face. Then she said, “wow, you guys are terrible.”

“Hey, it was either that, or ‘hey, look, Dangarnonians! We’re elves! Look at our elfyness and BEWARE!’” Barley said playfully. This made Rebel crack up in laughter, along with Ian even though he too was in on the whole cloak disguise thing.

“Okay, scratch that, you guys are funny,” Rebel said, trying to contain her laughter. “So, if y’all are from New Mushroomton, then why are you here in Dangarnon? I mean, it’s not exactly the best place for tourists...”

The brothers’ own laughter ceased at the sound of that question. Here it was, their chance to inquire where Gedeon was hiding in this crazy town. Barley was about to ask the question of the day, but then Ian put a hand on his brother’s forearm, and said, “well...you see, Rebel, um...well, first off, thanks for giving me and my brother a tour of your operations.”

“Oh, well, you’re very welcome,” Rebel said, showing off a grin.

“What you and your friends are doing is...inspiring. I...I just wish I could have some of that in me.”

“What do you mean?”

Barley wasn’t sure what his brother was trying to get at, but he didn’t want to stop him. So he sat there and listened to what the younger Lightfoot had to say.

Ian sighed, then twiddled his thumbs as he continued his explanation to Rebel. “We’re here because...I...I don’t...I don’t really know how to explain it, but...back home, Clarence and I, well...we’re considered heroes to the townsfolk. And-and we, or I, at least, feel this pressure to just be the one, to be the one guy to count on for advice and to fix everyone’s problems. But I’m just...me, you know. I’m no one special. But I-I don’t...know what to think of myself anymore. I just...I feel lost.”

Rebel sat there and listened to the younger elf’s words carefully while Barley put a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Finally, Rebel said, “you know what? I think I know somethin’ that might help you.”

“Really? What is it?” the younger Lightfoot asked, leaning in.

Rebel giggled. “Well, first, it’s about time we got outta this, here, bedroom, shall we? We have a big, wide, open hangar for a reason, you know.”

So the lead gremlin led the two Lightfoot brothers out of the small, cramped bedroom and back to the ladder where they all climbed down together.

“Usually I just jump down since it’s not a big one, but I figure you elves wouldn’t want to do that,” Rebel figured.

“You got that right,” Ian concurred.

Soon he, Barley, and Rebel were back down on ground level with Linda and the other gremlins. The crew were still hard at work on their plane. In fact, now Crowley—who had likely just returned from outside—and Axel were on board with Screwy and Torquil installing rivets, testing fluid lines, and connecting wires.

“Wow, they sure are workin’ hard,” Ian commented.

“Rather than hardly workin’,” Barley quietly joked to his brother.

Rebel, meanwhile, strolled her way over to Linda and called to her companions, “hey, why don’t y’all take another break? Don’t wanna to get too lost in our work or anythin’.”

With that, everyone stopped what they were doing, and moved away from where they were working on the plane. Some of the gremlins stretched their limbs while others, like Crowley, went to their workbenches to individually regroup and figure out their next task.

As everyone went off and did their own thing, Rebel took Ian’s hand and said to him, “come with me.” Then she hastily dragged the younger elf to the front of the plane while Barley followed close behind. Rebel motioned for Ian to join her at the top of a stepladder positioned next to the plane’s front windows. Once they were both on it, she asked him, “look into this, here, window. What do you see?”

Ian was confused. What exactly was Rebel trying to show him?

“Uh...it’s clean?” he guessed.

“Ha-ha, yes, we do try our best and dedicate time to polish it every once in a while. But look closer, what else do you see?”

The younger Lightfoot squinted his eyes and looked. The next thing he thought he saw was himself with his eye mask across his face. “My...reflection?”

“Exactly! But what I also see is you and only you. The you that you see.”

“I don’t follow...”

“Think of it this way, see that?” Rebel asked Ian, acknowledging the scratch Gedeon gave him on his neck. “I can see out here, not in the window, that it’s on the left side of your neck. But the way you see it, it’s on the right!”

“Yeah, that is how mirrors work...” the younger elf said, trying to be helpful.

“But on the right is how you see it, that’s what really matters. My pals and I go by this motto: ‘Only you can see yourself as the person you want to be.’ It doesn’t matter what other people think or feel about it. It’s up to you, for you.”

Ian thought about this deeply. He recalled Gedeon giving him a similar piece of advice earlier that week after he told the disguised gremlin about Barley hiding away the medallion. While Gedeon had pretty much told him to be his own person and turn against the people he cared about, Rebel was telling him to be his own person and be in control. She wasn’t bringing his brother or his personality at all into it. It made the younger Lightfoot realize that being who he is wasn’t about who Barley was, it was about himself and how he was going to let little things affect him.

Meanwhile, as Barley watched and listened to Rebel and Ian talking from below the stepladder, he found himself thinking back on how he treated hiding the medallion from his younger brother, and how he treated his younger brother back at the tavern when the young wizard was determined to go out and find Gedeon alone. It was during those times that Ian had accused Barley of telling him what to do. As much the older Lightfoot thought he was trying to help, he was beginning to think that perhaps he was being a little protective of his younger brother. He thought, how else was Ian going to learn to be bold and risky like him if he didn’t let him make mistakes and realize for himself what he should’ve done?

Thinking all of this over, Barley was beginning to realize how all super complicated everything was becoming. He always thought he could handle complicated texts and storylines, but never anything like this. But like any great hero, Barley was now willing to accept the challenges going forward. He imagined there would still be times that he figured Ian would need his help and his younger brother would say no. But until that ever happened again, Barley was now willing to trust the idea that things would work themselves out in the end. He certainly hoped they would for this quest. He and his brother still had to find Gedeon. But since Ian decided not to ask Rebel about him yet, Barley figured he’d have to do it himself.

But just as the older elf was about to go up to her and do that, there was a loud banging at the door adjacent to the kitchen that grabbed his attention.

Being in the kitchen and the closest, Diesel walked towards the door. As he did, the banging continued as if the person behind it was impatient.

“All right! I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” the missing finger gremlin said. “Man, sure are gettin’ a lot of visitors today.” When he opened the door, he flatly said to the person on the opposite end, “yeah, whaddya want?”

Barley looked over Diesel’s shoulder, curious to know who the next visitor was after himself and his brother, and he gasped.

On the other side of that door was a hooded gremlin wearing an extra large red robe. It was Gedeon.

“I haves your rations for the week,” he answered Diesel. The sinister-looking gremlin then lifted a heavy bag that sounded like it had loads of shards in it.

But that didn’t matter to Barley, he had to warn Ian. Luckily, his younger brother was just coming down from the stepladder with Rebel now. While she went over to talk to her other co-workers, Barley went straight for his brother.

“Ian, get down!” he cried.

“What—hey!” was all Ian could say before the older elf grabbed him and hid them both behind Torquil’s workbench. “Barley, what are you—”

“Shh!” Barley said, using his hand to cover his brother’s mouth so the younger Lightfoot would stop talking for a second. Then letting go of it, he had Ian look out from under the workbench. “Is that...?”

At that moment, Ian felt a shock go through him as he saw his enemy right before his eyes. “Gedeon!” he whispered with a shaky breath. “Wha-what’s he doing here?”

“Doesn’t matter, our quest just became easier,” Barley said, trying to assure his brother.

“Yeah, I-I guess that’s true. But where’s the S.S. Medallion? I-I don’t see it around his neck.”

“I don’t know. Under his robe, maybe?”

Ian couldn’t believe it. After all this time searching in Dangarnon, and after what seemed like several days, Gedeon had showed up right at their doorstep! Well, not exactly their doorstep. He and Barley were, after all, in the hangar of six misfit gremlin pilots. But why their foe would show up here of all places, that made Ian’s heart beat faster. Were Rebel and her crew actually friends with Gedeon? It sure seemed like it, and it put yet another piece of betrayal in the younger elf’s heart.

“We gotta get out of here!” Ian muttered to Barley, who was using his hand to search, then reach for another sandwich from up above. Once he grabbed one, the older Lightfoot nodded in agreement.

But just as the brothers were about to sneak away and leave, Rebel crouched down and joined them.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on here?” she asked.

While Ian felt like he was once again being cornered by another enemy, Barley also told Rebel to “shh!”

“Okaaaay...why are we hidin’ now?” the lead gremlin asked, clearly wanting to be a part of whatever the brothers were doing.

Ian pointed her to Gedeon, who was now walking with Diesel over to an area next to the kitchen where a bunch of junk was located.

“That guy?” Rebel asked.

“Yes, that guy,” Barley confirmed. “Gedeon the Grotesque.”

“The most wicked wizard in all the realm,” Ian added with a grimness to his voice as he continued to stare at the hooded gremlin.

The younger elf didn’t want to let Gedeon out of his sight. The last thing he wanted was for his and Barley’s sneak attack on the medallion purloiner to backfire. But at the same time, he was desperate to ask Rebel why she and her crew were associated with a rogue wizard like him. After everything they’d been through together—the introductions, the tour, the bonding, everything—he didn’t want all of that to go away. But in the end, what mattered most to Ian was the quest, and if that was how it had to be, then so be it.

But instead of taking offense to either of the brothers’ words, Rebel formed a reassuring smile on her face. “Naw, don’t you fret, elven kind. That’s not the real Gedeon.”

Barley and Ian both looked at her with confusion. That wasn’t the real Gedeon? That seemed impossible.

So the older elf asked, “it’s not? Then who—”

“That’s just one of his clones,” Rebel revealed.

“His...clone?” the younger Lightfoot repeated. Then he looked out towards the gremlin again.

“Yeah, that dang recluse of a gremlin always sends one of his clones over here to pick up leftover parts we don’t need,” the lead gremlin explained. “And in return, he pays us a decent amount of shards for us to get by until we find some way to make profit off these, here, planes.”

“But of course!” Barley said as the situation was making sense to him now. “We are in Dangarnon, after all.”

“We don’t prefer it, but we’ve got no other choice. We’re practically already out on the streets.”

That brought Ian a sense of relief. But even still, he was now realizing once more that Gedeon loved to play deception in more ways than one. Disguise Spells, the S.S. Medallion, and now clones of himself! Just as the Quests of Yore guidebook had said! But now the young wizard really wasn’t sure how he and Barley were going to find not only Gedeon, but the real Gedeon.

After a moment, Rebel stood up, and said to the Lightfoot brothers, “now, don’t worry yourselves none, and come on out.”

But Ian and Barley wouldn't budge.

“We can’t,” the younger elf said.

“It’s okay! I told you, it’s just a clone. Nothin’ to be a-feared,” Rebel tried to assure. She was having a hard time understanding why her new friends were afraid of this particular gremlin.

“We know, it’s just...we can’t let him see us,” Barley explained.

“’Cause if he does, he’ll tell the real Gedeon, and he’ll know we’re here,” Ian added.

Still confused, Rebel crouched back down to the Lightfoot brothers. “Out of curiosity, cuz I can’t for the life of Zadar help it, but...how do y’all know Gedeon?”

Here it was. Time to tell Rebel why they were really in Dangarnon.

“He’s, uh...stolen something from us,” Ian finally disclosed.

“And we want to get it back,” Barley added. “That’s why we’re here in Dangarnon.”

Rebel widened her eyes. She finally understood why these out-of-town elves were here of all places, and why they were putting themselves at risk. She knew she just had to help them somehow.

After taking a moment to process this, she finally said to the brothers, “well...thank you for tellin’ me. I would just hate it if y’all left this hangar without tellin’ me that. Not for lyin’ necessarily but...my crew and I, we know Gedeon. He’s as shifty, deceptive, and cruel as any gremlin you’d find out there. Maybe even more so. He’s somethin’ all right.”

“Yeah, we...we know,” Ian said. “He’s also a wizard.”

“Yes, we’re...well aware of that, too. But he’s the only wizard we know, not somethin’ you see all the time here in Dangarnon. He sure does love his magic though, that Gedeon. Loves ta...use it to bring on not only tricks, but intimidation as well.”

“Yeah, well...I definitely learned that the hard way.”

Deep in his thoughts once more, the younger Lightfoot realized that Gedeon had lied to him again. He remembered the wicked gremlin telling him that there were other wizards in the gremlin village, but ever since he and Barley had entered Dangarnon, they hadn’t seen any wizards. Just the intent of finding one. That one being Gedeon himself.

“Look! He’s leaving!” Barley suddenly pointed out. He, Ian, and Rebel were still under Torquil’s workbench as they watched the Gedeon clone make his way out of the kitchen door with a wagon full of the gremlin pilots’ unwanted parts.

“I shall take this, here, junk with great care, Diesel. Great care,” the clone said to the missing finger gremlin as half of him was out the door. “I will nows be on my ways. But beware: the boss will be expectin’ more next week, maybe even tomorrow. Remember: no junk, no money.” He then slammed the door behind him and could be heard outside walking off with the heavy-loaded, squeaky wagon.

“Okay...that was definitely not Gedeon,” Ian remarked. “That didn’t even sound like him!”

“Fact about clones: they sound different from their source,” Rebel informed. “That can be your clue to figurin’ out which one of them gremlins is Gedeon.”

She, Barley, and Ian then all stood up from behind Torquil’s workbench and walked away from it.

“Should we follow him? Where’s he going?” asked Barley.

“Probably to Gedeon’s side of the Untold Caverns behind yonder hill,” Rebel suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“Wait...Gedeon lives in the Untold Caverns?” asked a surprised Ian.

“Yep, all by his lonesome over there, away from the town,” the lead gremlin said pointing beyond, which the brothers’ heads followed.

“Well, that’s quite the obvious place to hide out from the law,” Barley said.

“Not really,” Screwy said as she and the other gremlin pilots walked over to join the group of three. “Forgive us for overhearin’.”

“Oh, nay problem at all, m’lady.”

Screwy grinned from ear to ear at being called “m’lady.” No one had ever called her that her whole life.

“She’s right, you know,” Crowley said, stepping up. “The caverns are huge, with many different entrances and exits to take.”

“The way into Gedeon’s is very well-hidden,” Torquil added.

“Not even we know the way in,” Axel said.

“So I suggest you twos follow Mr. Clone there so you’re sure to get in the right way,” Rebel finished.

“That’s a great idea,” Barley said, excited again.

“But just make sures he doesn’t see you, or is made aware he’s bein’ followed,” Crowley advised.

“Yeah, cuz not only then will your surprise attack be ruined, but if he finds out we sent ya, Gedeon will certainly have it out on us,” Diesel warned as he came forward himself from the kitchen.

“Then we’re sure as toadstools we won’t get these babies off the ground,” Rebel said sadly, acknowledging all of the planes in the hangar.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let that happen,” Ian said with assurance.

“You can count on us,” Barley added. Then eyeing the same door the Gedeon clone had left through, he said, “I...guess we should get going now.”

“But thanks a lot for all your help,” Ian said, stepping forward and eyeing all six gremlins, “it was really nice to meet...all of you.”

“Hey, no problem-o!” Rebel said endearingly. “And good luck!”

“Back at you!” Barley called as he and Ian now made their way to the back door. Approaching it, they opened it, went through, and soon they were out as they closed it behind them.

With that, the gremlin pilots had themselves and their plane again, and could now get back to work. However, Rebel couldn’t help but notice that out of all of them, Crowley was the last one staring at the door the Lightfoot brothers had left through.

Walking over to him, she teased, “so...you like ‘em now, huh?”

Crowley was silent for a moment. He kept on staring, until he formed a wholehearted smile on his face. Then he said, “well...I guess it would be a shame if anythin’ bad happened to ‘em. Their bond is truly special.”

Rebel’s knowing smirk didn’t cease. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 29 ◊

Into the Caverns

“So Gedeon lives in the Untold Caverns! Who woulda thought?” Barley said excitedly as he and Ian walked away from the hangar.

“Yeah, I know,” the younger elf agreed.

From where they stood, the brothers could see that the caverns themselves were straight ahead, just behind a rounded hill that was sure to give them a better view if they climbed up to the top.

“But actually, if you think about it, it makes total sense!” the older elf then said.

“How come?” the younger Lightfoot asked.

“The caverns were where the three gremlin wizards created the S.S. Medallion,” Barley reminded his brother as they strolled towards the hill. “Figures the one guy who wants all its power for himself would go back to its roots and use it in there.”

“Yeah, I-I guess that does make sense,” Ian nodded. “But I mean...I-I was also thinking maybe he’d be in there ’cause, well...caves are dark, gremlins love the dark, and you heard what Rebel and her crew said, it might be really hard to navigate. They sure made it sound like it’s the kind of place that has major twists and turns, which, y-you know...Gedeon himself really likes...”

“Oh, yeah, I wanted to ask you...” the older Lightfoot interjected, having remembered something. He decided to stop himself and his brother for a moment before they kept going. “Why did you tell Rebel about your identity crisis? Now, that, my dear brother, was a major twist on our grand quest if I ever saw one!”

“Oh,” Ian recalled, his eyes widening and his heart dropping, “that...well...”

“I just thought, I don’t know...maybe you didn’t want anyone else to know about it?”

The younger elf peered down and bit his lip, then looking back up at his brother again, he finally said, “I...I-I guess, I think...I feel like I just realized...maybe not all gremlins are bad.” Then chuckling, he added, “I know, I know, that sounds silly and-and maybe my trust levels are still out of control, but...I-I guess...after she showed us around her hangar, and-and seeing just what she and her friends are trying to do to change the realm, not knowing whether they’ll fail or succeed, and that she trusted us enough to be okay with it...well...I thought...”

“I get it,” Barley said, nodding along. “You wanted another set of comfort. Other than me, of course. We are far away from home again, after all, and who knows how all this will end. But a-anyway, I thought you really seemed to like us spending time there, and I knew I couldn’t just take that away from you, and...”

Ian stood there, taking in the older elf’s words. His brother was listening to him. For a while, it seemed like a long time coming for the younger Lightfoot. After all the times he’d asked his brother to listen to him for once, he saw right then and there that Barley had finally done it—on his own accord.

“So, uh...” the older Lightfoot continued, now rubbing the back of his neck from all his rambling. “You...you’re not mad, are you?”

Ian felt a shock go through his body, not expecting his brother to ask something like that. But soon that shock became pure happiness as he smiled. Then without any hesitation, he went over to the older elf, and put his arms around him—hugging him.

This put a separate shock on Barley’s face, but after letting a couple seconds go by, he too let it go, and hugged his brother back.

“Well, I guess that answers it,” the older Lightfoot said after a moment.

“Yeah...I guess it does,” the younger elf said with another laugh, then releasing himself from his brother, his look became serious. “But this isn’t the end yet, big bro.” Turning back towards where the caverns were, he added with determination, “we’ve only just begun. We have a clone to follow, and a gremlin to catch.”

“In that case...” Barley began to say before removing the eye mask from his face. “Shall we?”

Beaming back at his brother, Ian took off his own eye mask and said, “we most certainly shall.”

Then the Lightfoot brothers continued their walk towards the hill and the Untold Caverns, where they were now absolutely sure to find their adversary after all this time.

◊ ◊ ◊

Now climbing up the sandy dirt mound, Barley and Ian were hopeful to get somewhat of a bird’s eye view of the Untold Caverns—what with the implied untoldness in its name. If they couldn’t have a map to the inside, the outside was their best bet.

Making it to the top first, Barley looked over and immediately slumped down so that only his head could see over the hill. Ian did the same, following his brother’s movements.

“There he is!” the older elf whispered as the younger Lightfoot came up beside him. He had spotted the clone, who wore Gedeon’s red robe and still had the heavy wagon load of excessive junk from Rebel and her friends.

The brothers watched as the clone trudged himself and his wagon further and further down a winding road towards what they hoped to be Gedeon’s side of the caverns. Luckily, the clone was at a far enough distance away from the hill that he couldn’t possibly hear what the two teenage elves had to say behind his back.

“How in Zadar did he get all that stuff down this hill?” Ian wondered aloud, eyeing the massive bric-a-brac filled wagon.

“Oh...” Barley let out. It almost sounded like a realization. “I’m...guessing he probably went around it.” Having taken the liberty to look at their surroundings a little more, the older elf could now see that around the hill he and his brother were watching from, there was another unpaved, yet longer road down to the caverns. Pointing it out to Ian, he then let out an “oops.”

“Oh well...that’s okay, this wasn’t the worst hill to climb,” the younger elf said nonchalantly. Then focusing back on the clone again, getting further and further away from the brothers with each passing second, he asked, “should we...try to get closer? I don’t wanna lose him.”

“Sure, why not?” the older Lightfoot concurred as he stood up on his two feet, but then leaning in a little, he added in a whisper, “but we need to be quiet.”

Ian scoffed as he joined brother. “Why, of course. For these are enemy lines, after all.” Then he carefully began to step down the hill from where he and Barley stood, wanting to not only avoid slipping but to also avoid attracting the attention of their foe’s clone.

The older elf joined in, too, and soon the brothers were down the hill, and on the same level as the winding road and the clone.

With their target still not having seen them by the time they surfaced from behind the hill, the younger elf motioned with a hand that he and Barley should keep going. Then they descended the road before them, keeping their distance from the clone, knowing at some point that they were going to need a new hiding place eventually.

But adjacent to the caverns, there weren’t a whole lot of places to take cover in, except for a few decently-sized boulders here and there. So right as they got at their closest to the clone, the brothers decided to hide behind one of them as they continued watching for him. Thankfully, it just so happened to be the closest boulder to the caverns themselves.

Peeking out from behind said boulder, Ian whispered, “look! He’s at some doorways!”

Barley peered from behind his brother and saw the same thing. The clone had approached three different entrances to the caverns, each about five feet apart from one other. Once the gremlin got to them, he stopped in his tracks. Then he looked around—left to right, front to back. The brothers made sure they were hidden when they noticed he was about to look over his shoulder, then they peeked out from the boulder again once they were sure the clone had his back to them again. After a moment of breath, the gremlin copy eventually picked up his wagon handle, and wheeled it and himself into the entrance on the left. And soon he was no longer in the brothers’ sight.

“Looks like that’s our way in,” Barley said at a normal volume after watching the clone go inside.

“Let’s hope so...” Ian said, now emerging from the boulder.

He and the older Lightfoot walked up to the three entrances themselves and stood in the exact same spot the clone had.

Up close the brothers could see that the caverns were as red as rust, almost like Gedeon’s oversized robe. The more Ian saw it, the more he believed that this was his enemy’s home, and it was beginning to give him cold feet.

Taking it all in, the younger Lightfoot could only stare directly at the entrance the clone had gone through—the entrance to what he believed was his destiny. He felt the surrounding wind drift around him, blowing the cowlicks in his hair, the flaps of his cloak, and the cuffs on his jeans. He also felt a dizzying sensation form in his head, and his heart beat faster. It all began to weigh down upon the younger elf. He could not move one more inch. But suddenly, he felt that same brotherly hand clutch onto his shoulder, and with it, he let out a small startled gasp.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Barley asked him softly, almost in his ear.

Ian continued to stare into the darkness of the opening. He took a huge, trembling breath in, then let it out.

“Yeah,” he answered, furrowing his brows.

Turning away from the individual passageways and the older elf, the younger Lightfoot reached into his shirt, and got out his chain necklace.

Unclipping his tiny wizard staff, he held it out in front of him, then called out with a reborn fortitude, “Magnora Gantuan!”

And just like every time before it, the staff enlarged to its full size, ready for the young wizard’s use.

Finally, turning back to his brother again, Ian said to him with resolution, “let’s go.”

Barley smiled proudly. Once more, there was the confident little brother he knew and loved. Then facing the left entrance, he cried out, “HA-HA! You hear that, Gedeon? We’re comin’ to get ya! Yeah, that’s right! Watch out!”

“Hey, might want to cool it with the cheering, all right?” Ian advised. “Remember, we don’t want the clone to hear us...”

“Right, of course...”

And in that moment, the younger and older Lightfoot were off. There was no turning back now. They would keep following their clone until he led them straight to the real Gedeon and his hiding place, no matter what it took.

But unbeknownst to either teenage elf, a shadow now lurked at the same boulder they once hid behind—watching them closely.

◊ ◊ ◊

“Should’ve guessed it’d be completely dark in here,” Ian said with annoyance as he and his brother took their first steps into the caverns. “I can’t see anything!”

“Another good opportunity to practice thy Light Spell,” Barley pointed out.

“Oh, yeah...right.” After clearing his throat, the younger elf proclaimed, “Luxia!” And soon that same orb of light from last night and this morning returned, and lit the way forward for the two brothers.

“Orrr...even better...” Barley said with a tease.

“What?”

“The Light Beam Spell!” the older elf disclosed. “It’ll light up this whole cavern and last far much longer!”

“But...I-I haven’t tried that spell yet, at least...not on a quest.”

“You can do it, Ian. Remember: Luxia Extraordinar...”

The younger Lightfoot sighed. “Okay...” He let go of his regular Light Spell, temporarily making the area around him and his brother pitch-black again. Then driving his staff into the ground, Ian said, “Luxia Extraordinar!”

But just a small spark of light came out.

So he tried again with more feeling, “Luxia Extraordinar!”

Only to get the same result.

“It’s no use...I can’t light up this whole cavern...”

“Come on! You only tried twice! Try again!” Barley encouraged in the darkness.

“Barley, we have a gremlin to find...what’s that saying? ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’?”

“Oh, all right...but I’m telling you, that Light Beam Spell might come in handy when you need it most...”

“We’ll see...”

In his own head, Ian wasn’t so sure. Just a small amount of sun was enough to draw back a gremlin. He saw it himself while Gedeon was disguised as Mr. Vance. Was a lot more light really necessary? Deep down, the younger elf figured that perhaps it was, but he also figured it was better to at least have some light rather than no light at all.

So with another cry of “Luxia!” Ian had light going for him and his brother once again without issue. With it, he could also see below him that the clone had left behind some faint footprints on the ground. They weren’t deep, but they were gremlin prints all right.

“Ah-haaaa,” the young wizard said slowly to the tracks. “Thought you could get away from us, huh, clone?”

Barley chuckled at that. “Yeah, especially when you don’t even know you’re being followed.”

“Yeah, that’s right...how’s it feel to be the one being followed, huh, Gedeon? You followed me once, now’s the time I follow you...”

And so with the younger Lightfoot’s spell leading the way—also shining itself on his face and his brother’s—they continued to make their way through the caverns, sharing laughs and sticking together. So far, they were going in a straight line, not having had to make turns anywhere yet. But they had been doing so for about ten minutes now, and there wasn’t any sign of a certain gremlin wizard—or any gremlin for that matter—having made a home anywhere.

As he walked down the passage of the caverns, Ian couldn’t help but wonder if the deeper he and Barley went into it, the harder it would be for them to get out. Almost like the Labyrinth Mall. The younger elf hoped that that wouldn’t be the case. All he wanted to do was find Gedeon, find the medallion, and get out. He’d had that plan carved into his brain ever since he and Barley had learned about Dangarnon, and on occasion he would recite it in his head. Find Gedeon, find the medallion, get out, and repeat. It was that simple. But actually doing it, not so much. Not with the first item not technically accomplished yet. But for a quest, that was to be expected. For the clear path was never the right one. Plus, as they kept on following the clone’s footprints, neither Ian nor Barley could see the clone in front of them anymore. That was how dark it was inside the Untold Caverns. It was just the two of them, the footprints, and the caverns themselves.

Still, being in a major questing location, Ian just knew without even having to guess that his brother was certainly excited about it even though they were about to head into what was undoubtedly the most risky part of their journey. So the younger Lightfoot veered off a little, and focused his Light Spell on the cavern walls. They were red, rusty, and old. But to him, there was something about them that spoke of the past, specifically the part about the three gremlin wizards having once been here.

“Gosh...you can really feel the history coming from the walls in here,” the younger elf remarked as he decided to touch parts of the wall.

“Yeah, isn’t that wonderful?” Barley asked, definitely excited.

“Well, not when the history fights back.” Just then, Ian’s spell began to fade. “Or when your Light Spell begins to black out again...Luxia!” By the time he reignited his apprentice level spell for what had to be the fifth time based on his count, the younger Lightfoot said to his brother, “you know, I’m just about tempted to use the flashlight on my phone for the rest of this...however long the rest of this is...”

But even while standing almost in front of him, Ian could tell Barley was probably somewhat offended by this—and sure enough, he was. “Sir Iandore! This is a quest! And on a quest—”

“Yeah, yeah, magic is better than modern conveniences, I get it! But they’re convenient for a reason.”

“I know...just saying it’s more exciting! You know what else would be more exciting?”

“Don’t say it—”

“Light Beam Spell...”

“And he said it...”

“Come on! At least try it again! For me?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pleeease?”

Fuming a little bit, Ian turned to his brother, and burst out, “Barley, I said ‘NO’!”

The older Lightfoot now looked downward, his eyes widened and his mouth agape. But the younger elf took this to mean that he’d hurt his brother’s feelings again.

“Aw, man...I-I’m sorry, Barley. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s not that, look!”

The older elf directed Ian’s attention to an object on the ground that was revealed from the Light Spell. It was no bigger than a grapefruit, neither was it as fancy as a diamond. Rather, it was a rock encrusted with bits of crystal that gave off a very beautiful glow.

Ian let out a small gasp at the sight of it. “Is-is that a...?”

“A geode, yes.” Barley picked it up and held it in his hands, further admiring its features. “Wow...”

“Amazing. Wha-what are those purple crystals on the inside?”

“I believe it’s called amethyst. It’s very alluring.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Ian decided to shine a little more of his spell on the geode. The more his light touched it, the more luminescent it got.

“Geodes are very rare,” the older Lightfoot explained. “They’re usually much deeper in the rocks of caves. But this is...this is so cool.”

Ian thought for a moment, then his face brightened like the geode had as an idea struck him. “Then consider it our souvenir for this quest,” he said with a hint of satisfaction. “What do you think?”

Barley took his eyes off the geode and looked to his brother with surprise. Then he smiled and said, “I think it amazes me when you get the best ideas faster than I do.”

“Well...I-I mean, it was-it was just a suggestion.”

“A suggestion I think I’ll take this time,” Barley assured.

Ian grinned. He really felt like things were turning around for himself and his brother. He could feel it. The last thing he felt at that moment was scared. As long as he and Barley had each other, they could do anything, face anything, and succeed at anything, too. Just like they said in their chant.

The older elf was about to put the geode in his satchel, when the younger Lightfoot stopped him. “Wait, Barley! Don’t you wanna keep it out? I mean, it gave off a great deal of light, and well...this cavern sure could use some more light. Some colorful light, even.”

Barley looked to the geode, then to Ian and his Light Spell—which was beginning to fade away once more. “Aw, what the heck? It’ll certainly give me a part in lighting up this cavern.”

So as the older Lightfoot held the geode up in front of Ian’s staff, the younger elf triggered his Light Spell again, and soon the cavern was lit up with a glowing purple all around the brothers. From in front of them, behind them, and to their left and right. It was definitely stronger than the Light Spell all by itself. Maybe even stronger than a single Light Beam Spell. Ian had yet to know whether that was a fact for sure. But for the moment, this worked out perfectly.

With their new system, the brothers kept walking straight, and pretty soon they passed through what seemed like an open doorway. They felt the rocky space around them become less cramped and their glowing light expand to farther corners. They had reached a new part of the caverns, where it seemed like the ceiling was now high enough for a giant to fit inside. But as Ian and Barley began to wonder whether this meant they would find themselves in a direction picking predicament, they all of a sudden heard a blood-curdling, insectile shriek.

“Uh...did-did you hear that?” the younger Lightfoot asked, starting to shake.

Barley nodded, then they both heard it again—this time it was almost nauseating.

Moving his illuminated staff around, Ian began to breathe anxiously at the sound. He stayed close to his brother, who also tried to sense what was happening. But soon after looking around, Barley saw something, and became pale.

“Uh...Ian...” he said, sounding terrified.

“What? Wh-what is it?” the young wizard asked.

After aiming his light to where Barley was pointing, Ian himself went pale.

Spiderwebs. Big. Small. Some with skeletons entangled in them.

It could only mean one thing.

“Ahhhh, now what do we have here?” a voice from behind the brothers suddenly bellowed.

Ian and Barley slowly turned around and met the source of the webs: a giant spider, who was now just descending from high above to be at their level.

At the sight of it, both brothers wanted to scream, but were so petrified that they couldn’t. This spider was HUGE and could talk! But neither fact made this situation any more assuring for them.

“Elves...” the spider continued, then crawling towards the light of Ian’s magic on its eight legs, it gave off a slurping sound. “Taran does love him some elves, especially the kinds who disturb my rest with their light.”

“Oh, s-s-s-sorry,” Barley finally spoke as he shakily placed the geode into his satchel. “We-w-w-we were just—”

“SO...you boys dare cross through my terrain to reach Gedeon’s lair, do ya?”

At the sound of the rogue wizard’s name, Ian and Barley side-glanced at one another. They’d only been in the presence of this arachnid for no more than two minutes, and yet somehow he already had them all figured out. Even still, the brothers could barely utter a word to him. Giant spiders with menacing tones and ominous-sounding slurps made it pretty clear to them that this particular giant spider was anything but friendly.

“Oh, why even bother asking?” Taran said after seconds of silence. “Of course you are! After all, this is the only way through. Well...if you want to get to my master, you’ll have to get by me first.”

It was then that Taran lifted one of his front legs and maneuvered it over Barley and Ian!

“WATCH OUT!” the older elf screamed as he and his younger brother both jumped out of the way of the leg in separate directions.

Doing that, Ian’s Light Spell faded out again, which meant that he and Barley couldn’t see each other or where the giant spider was now. But the spider himself could surely see them no problem with his gifted night vision! The younger elf knew there was no way he could fend off the spider and use the Light Spell at the same time. He needed to use light and his other spells separately, but how? As moments passed, Ian heard the older Lightfoot unsheathe his sword and use it to attack the spider wherever it was crawling. He just had to help!

Thinking quickly, the younger Lightfoot proclaimed, “Flame Infernar!” and drew out some fire from his staff. At least for the moment it was another source of light that could not only be used to see what was happening, but to attack as well if necessary. Ian ran towards Barley and the giant spider, letting out a yell and waving his staff around to try and get the spider’s attention. While he didn’t really have a plan to conquer this arachnid yet, he at least wanted to show the beast that he wasn’t going to stand down.

“Ian, what are you doing?!” Barley cried.

“I honestly don’t know!” the younger elf answered back.

But once more, another leg from the spider came down at the brothers in an attempt to squish them. So the both of them swiftly jumped out of the way.

Running into what felt like a rocky wall, Ian realized that instead of feeling sticky, silky webs on it, one of his hands felt a torch. With the Fire Spell already made, he lit the torch which brought some light into the room, but not enough to see a whole lot. But soon with just one torch lit, the younger Lightfoot was able to notice a whole line of torches, all a couple feet apart from each other that surrounded the spider’s home. So one by one, Ian ran and lit all the other torches that encircled the area. By the time he set fire to the last one, the brothers were now able to see the spider and its movements more clearly.

“AAH!” the spider complained. What was worse than his beauty sleep being ruined was the added light the teenage elves had brought into his cavern space.

“Ha-ha! Nice one, Ian!” Barley cheered. “Now we can really deal with this guy!”

“You boys have overstayed your welcome!” Taran threatened. “Now get out of my home or face my webs!”

“Not until we see Gedeon!” Ian shouted at the spider, feeling braver.

“Very well, if it’s a fight you elves want, it’s a fight you’ll get!” At that moment, the arachnid made a mysterious swishing noise, then he abruptly released some silk at the brothers!

Both letting out shrieks, Ian and Barley once again jumped out of the way from the spider’s attack, and each landed on the ground.

After getting up on his feet, the older Lightfoot yelled to Ian, “I’m gonna go for his legs!”

“Okay!” the younger elf yelled back.

But once more, the giant spider decided to spit out some webbing. So before he could do anything else, Ian had to get out of the way before he became the spider’s lunch. That’s when he figured that he needed to find a way to knock the spider out somehow.

Since he couldn’t use the Water Spell on gremlins, Ian decided using it on this arachnid would be better. Aiming at the giant spider, Ian raised his staff over his head, then striking it into the ground, he shouted, “Hydro Pura!”

Water instantly sprung out from his staff and made its way towards the spider. But the young wizard was only able to conjure enough to fill up a sink, and all it did was splash the beast in the face. Witnessing the spider grow angrier from this, Ian gulped. He needed to think of something else and fast.

Meanwhile, Barley wasn’t having any better luck. Using his sword, he tried to slash through the spider’s legs so that the beast would have one less leg to work with in attacking him and his brother. But the legs themselves were just too thick to make even a small cut! He aimed his sword at the leg as high up as he could reach, figuring one part of the leg would be more sensitive than others, until he got to the conclusion that he had to get to the very top of the spider’s legs in order to do at least something to them. So the older elf tried climbing one of the legs in order to get to the top of the spider. But the spider himself felt Barley climbing on him and shook the elf off just before he got close to getting off the ground.

After landing with an “oof,” the older Lightfoot yelled to his brother, “it’s useless, Ian! These legs are sword-proof!”

“Yeah, well...I’m running out of spells to use!” Ian shouted back.

“Did you try the Stun Spell?!”

“I don’t think I can cast one on something this big! But maybe if I use the Calming Spell?!”

From across the room, Barley couldn’t hear his brother. “The WHAT?!”

“THE CALMING SPELL!” the younger elf repeated louder. “If I use it on the spider, he might go back to sleep! I think that’s all he really wants!”

“OH! The Calming Spell! Yeah, great idea, Ian! I’ll try and distract him for you!”

So while Barley ran over with his sword to face the eight-eyed, eight-legged giant spider alone, Ian mentally prepared for his spell. Psyching himself up, the young wizard mumbled, “uh...okay...Calming Spell...Calming Spell...darn it, what’s the incantation again? Ugh!”

Now in front of the giant spider, the older elf brandished his sword, and mockingly called to it. “Yoo-hoo! Giant Spidey! Over here!”

The arachnid hissed at the sight of the brawny elf, but also wondered where the other skinnier elf was hiding. Being the one with magic, he couldn’t have gotten far.

Barley, on the other hand, was getting nervous. “Ian...what’s taking so long?” he whispered to himself.

Moving closer to be right next to the giant spider, the younger Lightfoot had now remembered the Calming Spell’s incantation.

“Well...here goes nothing...” Ian muttered to himself. He stuck his staff out in front of him, then waving it slowly across his eyes, he began to call out, “Tranquilar—”

But the younger elf’s voice caught the attention of the spider. The giant creature turned away from Barley—almost knocking the older elf over on his back—to notice Ian out in the open. Crawling towards the younger Lightfoot, the arachnid swiftly unleashed webs straight at him! Unable to avoid them in time, the silk snatched right onto Ian—binding his arms to his body!

“IAN!” Barley cried.

The younger elf fell backwards to the ground and struggled against the webs. He needed his magic to get out of this, but unfortunately, his wizard staff was now out of his hand’s reach!

“Barley! Help!” Ian cried to his brother.

“Hang on, I’m coming!” Barley shouted back. He ran over to his brother posthaste, intent on getting him out of the webs so that they could both fight the spider together again. But just as he was about to reach Ian, the older Lightfoot thought he felt something sticky and thick latch onto the back of his legs. “Aah!”

“BARLEY!” Ian screamed.

The older elf fell towards his brother, then he turned over, and realized that his legs were now bound with silk! Despite this, Barley didn’t feel completely helpless. He figured he could still untie Ian from his webbing in no time. So with just his arms, he tried crawling over to the younger Lightfoot. But without the use of his legs, it was difficult.

Then before either brother knew it, a huge shadow was cast over them—making the space almost as dark as it was before. The giant spider loomed above the two Lightfoots, ready and planning to devour his next meal.

“I think we’re lunch...” Barley said with fright as he and Ian gazed up at the creature in fear.

“You sure are!” Taran foretold. “Say goodbye to your quest, boys...”

And sure enough, the spider was just about to take the teenage elves up to his main web and eat them. Seeing no other way out of this, Ian and Barley shut their eyes tightly for the doom that was awaiting them. When all of a sudden—

“BESTIA TRANQUILARA!”

A beam of light shot out from a corner and aimed itself directly at Taran. Every inch of the giant spider felt the magic cast on him flow through his veins. To the brothers, he also began to look dizzy as all eight of his eyes spun wildly in circles.

“On second thought...I’m not very hungry...” Taran spilled out, clearly about to go unconscious. “In fact...I’m much...rather...sleeeeeep...yyy...”

It was then that the spider collapsed in front of the two Lightfoots, out cold and asleep. But magic was still being cast upon him.

Since Ian couldn’t use the other parts of his body to move at the moment, he used his eyes to follow where this strange magic was coming from, until he saw it and let out a gasp.

A silhouette. Emerged from the same doorway he and Barley had come through into the spider’s hideaway. It was clearly wielding some sort of wizard staff, but that was all the younger elf could really see from where he was trapped. Soon the figure’s magic dispersed, and the shadow freed itself from its casting position—standing tall and proud in victory.

“Whoa...” Ian said, amazed. He had become so concentrated on this mysterious savior that he didn’t even notice that Barley had managed to free himself from his own webbing while the spider was distracted. Now the older elf had come around to his younger brother and began to untie him, too.

Once Barley unbound Ian from the silk, he said, “okay...that was close!”

But as Ian stood up on his own two feet again, his focus on the silhouette was unmatched. He stared straight at it with widened eyes as if he and the figure were the only ones in the entire cavern space, with everything else blurred out in between. It was like that for only a few seconds until Barley called out his name.

“Ian? Uh, Ian? Where are you going?”

Now snapping out of it, the younger Lightfoot realized he was slowly walking away from his brother towards this figure. “Oh...I, uh—” But just then, he saw the figure itself dash away out of the corner of his eye. In a panic, he began to run towards it. “Hey, wait! Come back here! Hello?!”

But grabbing his brother by the shoulder, a confused Barley asked, “Ian, what’s going on? Who are you...talking to?”

“That...that person. Th-that figure! Didn’t you see?! They-they saved us from that spider!” the younger elf explained, frantically pointing back and forth to the doorway and the spider. “They used magic on him, had some sort of...wizard staff...and...” Ian hesitated. His mind had now traced back to the spell the figure had cast. It sounded like the Calming Spell, but with an added element. Another word was added to the incantation. Bestia. A word a wizard would typically use for a Nature Speak Spell.

And that voice. The voice from the figure that called out the spell. It sounded...familiar. But why?

Barley himself thought about this, furrowing his brows. “Yeah, that would make sense,” he finally said. “I mean, not that I’m one to run into giant spiders on a regular basis—except on a glorious campaign, of course—but a beast like this definitely doesn’t just decide to eat you, and then change his mind on a whim and go right to sleep.”

“Exactly!” Ian agreed. “Come on, we have to find out who saved us!”

But again, Barley stopped him. This time by grabbing his arm. “Ian, wait! That might’ve been Gedeon!”

“What?”

“Think about it...the spider said that Gedeon was his master. Maybe that was him casting a spell to place the arachnid in some sort of temporary sleep! He might know we’re here and wanted the spider to let us go.”

“That-that makes no sense!” the younger elf cried, forcing his arm away from his brother. “Why would Gedeon want to save us?”

“I don’t know! But from what you’ve told me about him, he could have all sorts of tricks up his sleeve that he wants us to fall for! Especially with the S.S. Medallion in his possession! We can’t let him get in our heads! And I certainly don’t want him to get in your head. Not after what he’s already tried to put in it.”

The last thing Barley said struck a chord with Ian. It couldn’t have rang truer, especially when it came to him and his brother. But all the same, the younger Lightfoot stayed quiet. He turned and went back to staring at the doorway where the figure once stood. Something about it didn’t strike as Gedeon to him. He just didn’t know what it was exactly. All he knew was that the voice of the spell didn’t sound like Gedeon. However, it did sound like someone he’d heard of before. He just didn’t know who.

Barley watched as Ian stared out, clearly seeing that his brother was not convinced with his theory.

After a moment, the older elf sighed and said, “they’re gone, Ian. Whoever it was, they’re gone. Now, come on. We better get going in case the spell wears off.”

Sword in hand, Barley headed towards the opposite doorway out of the spider’s nest, hoping that his brother would follow him eventually.

Still staring out for a few moments longer, Ian grew a determined frown and said, “you’re right. Let’s go.” Then he turned away and followed the older Lightfoot to the exit, intent on escaping the spider while they had the chance. Coming up next to Barley, he added, “we have a medallion to save.”

But as much as the younger elf wanted to deny it for the sake of his brother, he couldn’t help but look back at the spot just one more time before moving forward. Gedeon or not, what happened back there was surely something he wanted to keep at the back of his mind.

Soon the brothers were past the doorway, with the fired torches of the spider’s terrain far behind them.

“Uh...young mage...Light Spell?” Barley reminded his brother as they both entered the pure darkness once again.

“I know, I know,” Ian said, reaching for something in his satchel. In a matter of seconds, the young wizard pulled out his phone, and with a tap of a button, he turned on its flashlight.

“Uh, not the Light Spell,” Barley remarked.

But the younger Lightfoot simply said, “how about we save magic until we find Gedeon...or some other threat, okay?”

“Fine...fair enough,” the older elf relented.

And so, the brothers kept going, with neither of them knowing for sure how much farther they had to go. But they both knew that with each step they took that they were getting closer and closer to their enemy. It was only a matter of persistence.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 30 ◊

Machinations

It was quiet between the brothers for a good few minutes as they walked along the once again narrowing cavern walls side by side. That was, until Ian noticed something and stopped in place.

“Uh...uh-oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Barley asked.

“We’re not following the tracks anymore...”

“Wait, we aren’t?!”

The older Lightfoot just had to see this for himself, and sure enough, his brother was right. The light cast from Ian’s phone didn’t show the clone’s footprints—or any footprints for that matter—anymore.

“Oh, Gargamon’s Tail...that’s not good,” Barley said at the sight of the missing prints.

Ian groaned. “So, let me guess, we’re lost?”

“Don’t panic, young mage. We’ll find our way, I guarantee it!”

“But how? I mean...we can’t just go back where we came from, unless we wanna run into that giant spider again...although—”

“Yeah, you’re right, we shouldn’t go back there. Besides, while we were fighting him, I kinda looked around the place to see if there were any other ways out, but this way we came...I feel like this was the only other way out.”

“Weird...”

“So, in that case, I say we keep going. We’re bound to run into Gedeon’s hideout eventually.” Saying this, the older elf stepped ahead and began walking down the passage again.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ian said. “But still, I wish we had our lead...”

Then he followed directly behind his brother, and they both continued wandering down their path, hoping to at some point run into something that had anything to do with their adversary.

But after a couple more minutes of silence, and for the younger elf a couple more minutes of deep thought, he spoke up and asked, “uh, you know, Barley...if...if the way we came is the only way out, then...won’t that mean we’ll have to face the spider again?”

“Yeah, we might,” the older Lightfoot answered. “If he wakes up. But he’ll probably let us go next time. All he really wanted was to keep us out of Gedeon’s territory. Which...now that I put my finger on it, seems to be where we’re going. It just has to be!”

“No, no, I believe you. I...I guess I was just wondering...”

“Yeah?”

“When we get the medallion back,” the younger Lightfoot continued, “if we get the medallion back. What are we going to do with it?”

“What do you mean, ‘what are we going to do with it’?”

“That’s just what I mean, what are we going to do with it?” Ian emphasized. “Like, I-I know we’re stealing it back from Gedeon and everything, but...that doesn’t mean it’s ours, either. Plus the fact that we now know what it does, and that it was stolen.”

“Exactly, it was stolen! So we’re going to give it back to the rightful owners.”

“That’s just it, though. Who are the rightful owners? I mean, it’s not the Jewel Museum.”

“But I thought they had the medallion on display? So as much as it pains me to say this, doesn’t it belong to them?”

“I don’t...I don’t think it does.”

“What are you saying?”

“From what Gedeon told me, he first found the medallion outside of Dangarnon, buried into the ground, for hundreds of years. Then he used it, and had it taken by curators because it had magic. And when they saw that...they just decided to put it in a place where its magic couldn’t be used again—in a non-magic museum. But the fact is, it does have magic. And all I’m saying is, maybe...maybe it shouldn’t be in a place where it...sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“Yeah...yeah, I totally see your point, and I wholeheartedly agree!”

“So, what do we do about this?”

Barley thought about it long and hard for a moment. Of course his brother would turn to him for a predicament like this, considering the many historical monuments and relics he’s tried to save and has saved over the years. Yet this was a whole new challenge all by itself.

But after thinking about it, the older elf said to his younger brother, “well, one thing’s for sure, as soon as we do get the S.S. Medallion from Gedeon, the first thing it needs is protection. From him especially, but also from people like those who run the Jewel Museum who might want to display it again and risk the chance of it getting stolen again.”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, that-that’s good. But then what do we do after that? Like, who do we give it to? I mean, I still don’t want anything bad to happen to it, but...a part of me also feels like its magic shouldn’t be wasted, you know?”

The younger Lightfoot then paused his walking and sighed. He was now just starting to realize that he was going off on a long tangent again. How could he possibly keep going if he was rambling like this? But Barley noticed his brother stop and turned around to look at him with concern.

“I don’t know,” the young wizard continued. “Maybe this is just another part of my so-called identity crisis, and I-I shouldn’t even be thinking about this, but...after all the secrets, betrayal, and desperation I’ve felt this whole week over wanting so badly to know its purpose, I...I can’t help but feel like somehow its fate deep down is mine to decide.”

As soon as Ian was done describing his new problem, the older Lightfoot stepped up, and put a hand on the younger elf’s shoulder. “Hey, whatever happens, I’ll make sure for your sake and mine that it ends up where it’s meant to be,” he said tenderly. “But right now, let’s figure this out once we actually get the medallion back. Okay?”

The young wizard looked into Barley’s eyes, and they told him that the both of them were in this together. All he had to do was trust in that.

“Okay,” Ian finally agreed.

His brother had a point. They needed the medallion itself first before they could truly decide what to do with it. But as far as the younger Lightfoot was concerned, he just wanted it in the right place in the right hands.

But soon, as he and Barley kept walking, Ian’s guiding phone light revealed the brothers’ next dilemma: a set of uneven stairs or their path continued.

“Ha-ha! Finally! A fork in the cavern!” the older elf cheered.

“And that’s good why?” Ian asked.

“Nothing, just excitement! A change of pace, you know?”

“Okay, so...which way do we go?”

Both brothers looked around to see if there was any sort of indication that they should go one way over the other. Then Barley saw something from up where the stairs led.

“Hey! I think the stairs lead to some light!”

“Light?” the younger elf asked. Gazing up and seeing what his brother was pointing to, he frowned. “That’s odd...gremlins hate light.”

“Yeah, but...where there’s light, there’s hope...right?”

“Well, yes...most of the time...”

“Precisely! So I decree that we venture upwards, young sorcerer!”

Ian’s gears turned. He and Barley could keep going the way they were and avoid something suspicious, or they could climb up and likely run into something useful. In a matter of seconds, the idea of taking the stairs was beginning to give the younger Lightfoot the impression that if they didn’t, he and his brother would find themselves in an endless straight loop for the rest of their lives.

So feeling slightly assured, Ian said, “okay, let’s do it,” then with his phone light, he led the way up the stairs.

The younger elf really hoped the light at the top meant that he and Barley were getting close at last. But he also recalled when saying “most of the time,” that the last time he and his brother followed a light in a dark enclosed space on a quest, it led them straight back home to New Mushroomton. With that particular setback in mind, the younger Lightfoot decided then not to get his hopes up too badly, in case it was one of those situations again. But even if it was, he and Barley were fortunate enough to have the option to turn back this time.

“Careful, I think some of these steps are steep,” the older Lightfoot advised as he and Ian continued to climb up the stairs. There weren’t a whole lot, but there were plenty for one to hurt themselves if they didn’t watch their step.

By the time both brothers reached the top, they discovered the source of the light they spotted.

“Oh, cool! A huge hole in the wall!” Barley proclaimed.

“Uh, technically, it’s called an erosion,” Ian corrected, for it was a cavern erosion.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Smartypants,” the older elf teased as he and the younger elf made their way over to it.

Taking a look out from the eroded hole, the brothers instantly gaped. From what they could see, they weren’t just looking from any cavern hole. Instead, they were looking through what seemed like a high-rise-esque window! From it, they saw a huge space—about a football field or two long—and on the right side of it was a small waterfall that poured into a small lake of water, which in turn created an almost complete moat around the cavern floor.

But that wasn’t even the main thing that caught the eyes of both Ian and Barley.

Amongst all of it were gremlins—lots and lots of gremlins! And they all looked exactly like Gedeon! Except every single one in sight wore matching black t-shirts, black shorts, and no shoes. Those just had to be his clones!

They were scattered all over the place—like kids on the playground at recess—engaging in a multitude of activities.

Some gremlins carried brooms and used them to sweep up dust, litter, and other things, then added them to a big pile of trash. Other gremlins were seen cannonballing into the lake, then laughing, swimming, and cloning themselves in the process. Another set of gremlins lifted large baskets or wheelbarrows of shiny objects, brought them into what looked like closets, and dumped the items inside. Other pairs of gremlins were seen sword fighting, besting each other over who was better with the blade. But several gremlins were seen dumping buckets of metal into an assembly line that crushed it, melted it, and finally formed it all into several different shapes that were then placed against a wall.

Overall, the whole place appeared to be a mix of a fun and work zone.

“Whoa...” Ian finally said as he took in everything.

“You said it,” Barley agreed. “That’s some lair...”

“It sure is...” Then the younger elf let out a laugh. “I-I can’t believe it. We-we found it! We actually found his hideout! The only question now is...which one of these gremlins is the real Gedeon?”

“Who knows? I guess whichever one has the S.S. Medallion around his neck.”

“Yeah, that’s a start...but it could be any one of these gremlins...”

“Hey, remember what Rebel said? Clones sound different than the original gremlin they came from. We just have to listen for Gedeon, and then we’ll find him, easy.”

Ian sighed. “That could take forever. Ah well, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we’re racing against time or anything for once.”

“Hey, I know! Let’s say whoever spots him first gets a prize.”

“Oh, so, we’re making this a game now?”

“Why not? I mean, I’m not going to stand here, bored, waiting for the real Gedeon to show up. Besides, as an expert role-playing gamer slash Quest Master, I know that games pass the time fairly quickly.”

“Sure, sure, what else is new?” the younger Lightfoot said sarcastically. “So, how does this particular game of yours work?”

“I just told you, whoever spots Gedeon first wins.”

“Yeah, but...what’s the prize?”

“Hmm...” the older elf thought, then he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Loser has to prank call Colt, and the winner decides what the prank shall be.”

“Wow, Barley, maybe you are a gremlin,” Ian said sardonically. “Wrecking bulldozers, stealing books, enjoying people getting swindled over the phone—good for you.”

“Hey, I said we should try it on Colt sometime! I tell ya, he could use a little more fun in his life sometimes. Well...aside from Mom.”

The younger elf chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“And you know what? So could you! Whaddya say?”

Ian gave this some thought, then he said to his brother, “all right, deal.”

“Oh, you are so on, little bro!”

“Yeah, well, get cozy with dialing Colt’s number ’cause I am going to find Gedeon first. For you see, unlike you, I know exactly what he sounds like.”

Despite his insecurities, Ian was at least confident—almost cocky, even—that he was going to ace pinpointing which one of these gremlins was the main gremlin in charge. But suddenly—

“EXCELLENT JOB, MY HUMBLE MINIONS...”

Both brothers flinched and ducked down a little when they heard that sinister, booming voice come from the far right side of the cavern area. They turned their heads in the direction of the voice. And then they saw him.

Coming out from the dark shadows, with the S.S. Medallion around his neck, was...a leprechaun?

“There he is!” Ian and Barley said simultaneously. Then realizing they’d both spotted their adversary at the same time, the teenage elves looked at each other, repelled.

“Okay, we really gotta stop doing that,” the younger Lightfoot said.

“Yeah, seriously,” the older elf agreed, then with a tone of disappointment, he added, “but...it’s settled. We’re both prank calling Colt once we get out of here.”

“Noted.”

The brothers then resumed their stakeout, immensely concentrating on Gedeon now that he and the medallion had been spotted. But as they watched him observing the work and play of his clones, they noticed a group of four gremlin clones wheeling out a large object covered in a white sheet from the left side of the cavern. From the way they were moving it slowly and carefully, it just had to be heavy. Perhaps valuable, even—knowing Gedeon.

“Hmm...now I wonder what that could be,” Ian said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, we might find out,” the older Lightfoot suggested. “So...Gedeon...he’s transformed, right?”

“I guess...I mean, he’s got the medallion on, he’s not actually a leprechaun. That’s gotta be him.”

Barley eyed the talisman on the leprechaun closely. “Yeah, but...thank Zadar the medallion is still safe.”

“Of course it’s still safe! It’s Gedeon’s ultimate power of choice. As much of a villain as he is, he told me himself while he was disguised that he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to it.”

“Yes, well, that’s all about to change...’cause we, the Lightfoot men, are here to take it back.”

“Heck, yeah. But...seriously, how?”

As the brothers pondered this, they watched leprechaun Gedeon continue his stroll across the cavern, making his way towards the four gremlin clones and their white sheet-covered object. He observed the work he was clearly putting half of his clones under.

“No dillydallying!” he commanded. “This place isn’t going to shape itself, you know!”

“But isn’t that what caverns do, anyway?” Barley asked Ian.

The younger elf nodded, but somehow he was sure Gedeon meant more than just the cavern itself.

Soon they saw the rogue wizard turn to the gremlins that were dumping whatever it was in their baskets and wheelbarrows into the closets.

“Hey, careful with those Twenty-Sided Diamonds!” he shouted. “They’re worth a lot more than the filthy, rusty rocks in this whole cavern!”

“Righty-o, boss!” one of the gremlins replied.

“No other wizard should have to wield them but me. Or even dare use it to blind my eyes right out of their sockets! I personally would much rather use them to cast fireworks to celebrate my greatest of victories.”

“Whoa, that is some collection he’s got there,” Barley noticed. “If he wanted to, he could bring an infinite amount of light and fireworks just from putting those things in his staff!”

Meanwhile, Ian found himself thinking back to the moment he’d let Gedeon get away. But instead of feeling ashamed about it, seeing as he and his brother had finally found the rogue wizard again, the younger Lightfoot realized something.

A Twenty-Sided Diamond, he thought. So that’s why his fireworks were so powerful!

The younger elf remembered watching Gedeon place something small and gleaming into his staff right before he cast the Fireworks Spell and made his escape. It was like a Phoenix Gem, but not like a Phoenix Gem at the same time. Seeing the shapeshifted gremlin’s huge collection down below, it all made sense to Ian now.

Next the brothers observed the gremlin-turned-leprechaun walk over to a clone hauling a heavy-looking bag.

“And you!” he cried. “I had to turn into a merman and dive into the depths of the Southern Realms to get those precious sea shards you’re dragging around!”

“Oh, s-s-sorry, my liege,” the clone said nervously. He then picked up the bag and put it over his shoulder, much to his discomfort.

“That’s better,” said the now satisfied leprechaun. Afterwards, he moved on to the clones that were swordfighting.

Watching one gremlin using what looked to be an Heirloom Sword take down another, Gedeon nodded and smiled.

“Yes! Now that’s how you deal with your enemy,” he said. “Keep up the good work, and maybe someday you’ll be enough to take me on.”

The clone that defeated the other grinned, then the shapeshifter went towards the gremlins that were crushing and melting metal.

“So...he hoards assist elements, steals precious gems, and collects a variety of swords,” Barley remarked. “Impressive.” But saying that earned him an elbow from Ian. Afterwards, both brothers heard their foe shout again.

“Chop chop, my clones!” Gedeon said, clapping. “The more metal we have, the better.”

Observing the assembly line of metal and the gremlins working on it, the rogue wizard grinned with pride. That was, until one of the clones at the apparatus approached him holding a bleeding finger.

“Sir, I cut me finger on the machine,” the gremlin said. “Could you heal it?”

But Gedeon just stared at the clone, hardly showing any emotion. Then leaning in towards him, the leprechaun went, “nah.”

Next he reached into his green jacket and took out his dark, wooden wizard staff.

Ian figured right then that the shapeshifter was about to do something dastardly. He just knew it.

Aiming the tip of his staff directly at the gremlin, Gedeon said sadistically, “if an injured finger is what you have, then...you’re no longer of any use to me.” Then in a high and mighty voice, he declared, “Luxia!”

As the shine from the Light Spell blinded the clone’s eyes, the gremlin copy shrieked and immediately sparked away from existence—much to the horror of Barley and Ian, who watched the whole thing from afar.

Gedeon, meanwhile, didn’t seem to have a care. To him, all he really did was wipe away an innocent little nuisance. He knew from glancing over at the lake that he wasn’t going to run out of extras anytime soon. Even the other clones at the machine gave their fair share of snickering at the poor gremlin who had his existence taken away.

But turning to his copies, leprechaun Gedeon cleared his throat and warned them, “now...unless the rest of you want to join him, I suggest you all get back to work.”

And just like that, the rest of the clones stopped their callous laughing at once and did get back to work, serving their master with the goal to make him nothing but pleased.

With that said and done, Gedeon then chortled to himself, “I love being in charge.”

Finally, he made his way over to the white sheet and the four gremlins that were guarding it.

“Well? Take it off!” the leprechaun demanded as he approached.

The clones did just that, and revealed what was under it. To Ian and Barley, it looked like some sort of medical table, or was it a chair? Either way, it had numerous surgical devices linked to it that didn’t look entirely well-put together yet.

“Here it is, Master Gedeon,” one of the clones said, presenting the contraption.

“Your greatest achievement,” another clone added.

“In progress,” the third clone said.

Gedeon looked at the contraption from all sides. “Splendid, splendid...I really like what I’m seeing here...”

“Thank you, sir,” said the last clone.

“You four are doing a good thing for dear ol’ me.”

“Yes, well, you asked us to make this,” said the second clone.

“And I’m so glad you are.”

Just then, the clone with Gedeon’s robe and the wagon full of the leftover parts from Rebel and her crew arrived into the large space. He trudged over to the leprechaun, the four clones, and their mechanism—panting and tired.

“Here...here I am, boss...” he said in exhaustion.

“Where the heck did he come from?” Barley asked his brother, but the younger elf shrugged his shoulders, equally puzzled.

The older elf was sure the way he and Ian went to escape from the giant spider’s nest was the only way, but this clone had clearly entered Gedeon’s space from another direction.

“There you are!” Gedeon cried to the clone. “Do you have more scrap from those worthless little dreamer pilots?”

Both brothers grew scowls hearing the menacing leprechaun, who was really a gremlin, call their new acquaintances, “worthless.” He really wasn’t a good trading partner to them after all.

Meanwhile, the clone who had the scrap moved aside from the wagon and showed what was in it. “Uh, does it look like I have it?” he asked, clearly somewhat affronted by his master’s seeming lack of awareness.

Gedeon only took a second to look it over before he said to the clone, “good enough,” then pointing behind him, he added, “now dump it with the rest of the metal to be crushed and melted.”

“You got it.”

“And one more thing...”

As the clone turned to hear his master’s last demand, Gedeon abruptly stripped him of the red robe, and the leprechaun tucked it under his arm.

“I would like my best robe back.”

“Yes, sir,” the clone nodded, now just wearing all black like the rest of his peers. Then he took the wagon, and wheeled it and the junk that was in it over to the pile.

With him out of view, Gedeon focused back on the other four clones and the contraption they were making for him.

“Now, where were we?” he said to them. “Oh, yes! How much longer must I wait for this to be finished?”

The four clones could only glance at each other nervously.

“Well?”

After a moment, the first clone spoke up. “Well...you-you see, master, we...we’re not sure...”

“What do you mean, you’re ‘not sure’? My outline couldn’t be simpler!”

“Oh, it’s-it’s not that it’s too hard, sir,” the third clone said. “We-we just don’t want you to get hurt. This-this thing...it could be dangerous. Maybe lethal...”

Gedeon began to fume. He grabbed the clone that just spoke by the collar and said to him, “and that is why...I want you to make it so that it is not dangerous or lethal.” He then added with seething teeth, “my life depends on it.” Afterwards, he let the clone go and rubbed his hands together. “Once this gizmo is complete, no one will be able to stop me. NO ONE!”

The clones looked to their master, then at each other, then at the machine. They weren’t entirely sure about this whole thing. But regardless, they didn’t have much of a choice.

“Now, get that surgical thingamajig working!” Gedeon demanded, then holding out his wizard staff at his copies, he warned, “’cause who knows? Perhaps it’s not only my life that its success depends on...”

With his threat made clear, the clones nodded vigorously and got back to work as their leader walked away and resumed observing his other clones.

Up at the window, a speechless Barley and Ian couldn’t watch anymore of Gedeon and his apparent act of slavery. Both their faces screamed with alarm and anger as they slowly turned away and sank themselves to the ground, now sitting below the eroded hole.

“Wow, man, he’s...he’s a monster,” the older Lightfoot finally said.

“I don’t think ‘monster’ is even close to describing him,” Ian said softly, hugging his knees.

Barley could now see just the kind of pain his brother had gone through in fighting the wicked wizard the other day. From the way the younger elf had described it, it seemed bad. But now seeing Gedeon for the first time in action, he felt a new sense of guilt and fear for his little brother.

“Ian...I-I knew from what you told me about him that he was bad, but...this is way worse than I ever thought. I...I’m sorry.”

“What for? You never really met him before. How could you have known?”

“I don’t know...I just...he hurt you,” the older elf said, clenching his fists. “I don’t ever want him to hurt you again.”

“Barley...”

“I know, I know, I’m going all dad on you again, aren’t I?” the older Lightfoot realized, then he got up and began to pace around. “But can you blame me? It’s my instinct! I’m the guy who usually knows everything and sees what’s about to happen. But now that I see this...this insanity! I-I don’t know what to think...”

“Yeah, well...frankly, I wasn’t even expecting all of this, either. Some of it, maybe, but...definitely not all of it.” Ian glanced back down at Gedeon’s hideout for a moment, before turning to face his brother again. “But hey, what matters now is that you’ve seen Gedeon, you’ve seen what he’s capable of, and now you can see why that medallion shouldn’t be in his hands.”

The older elf was silent for a moment—the weight of this quest truly coming down upon him now—until finally, he said, “you’re right.” Then looking back out at the lair himself, he added with determination, “we’ve gotta get down there.”

“Yeah...but how do we—”

But now on the other side of Ian, Barley’s ears suddenly picked up a series of murmurs coming from the direction next to the window that he and his brother had yet to go through. So he walked over to the cavern wall adjacent to their spying window and peeked his head from behind it. He let out a gasp as he saw two of Gedeon’s clones coming their way!

Running back to Ian, he whispered to his younger brother, “someone’s coming!”

“What?” Ian whispered back, now up on his feet again.

“Quick, Invisibility Spell!”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not kidding!”

Frantic, Ian tried looking around for another solution. He wasn’t sure if an advanced spell was going to cut it for him and his brother to temporarily hide from clones. But peering behind Barley’s shoulder, the younger Lightfoot thought he noticed something on the cavern wall that his older brother had just looked behind.

“Wait,” he mumbled, “what is that?”

Ian rushed over to the wall and squinted his eyes. A handle? A small round circular crease around it? It just had to be a door! The younger elf put his hand on the handle and pulled it with all his might. Suddenly, it popped open and on the other side was a space big enough for both him and Barley to hide!

Gasping in surprise, Ian put a foot inside, then whispered to his brother, “quick in here!”

Barley followed, then he and Ian went through the door together. Once they were through, Ian shut the door behind him. On it was a little hole for him to peek through to watch and see the gremlins that were coming walk by. They continued talking to each other, not even suspecting for a second that they were about to encounter some intruders.

“Phew! We could’ve been dead,” the younger Lightfoot said, sighing in relief.

“Hey, Ian! I think we may have found another passage!” Barley cried excitedly. He had his back to the door.

“Really?”

“Yep, feast your eyes on this!”

Ian turned in his brother’s direction to see that the door they’d gone through just now had led them to what looked to be a tunnel system.

“Whoa, it’s like...dug out and everything,” the younger elf remarked.

“Sure looks like it, come on!”

Barley inched forward and began to crawl through the cramped burrow, since the space was too small for either of them to stand.

“Wait, should we even be in here?” Ian asked, stunned by this change of plans, but he decided to follow his older brother and crawl, anyway.

“Well, if we go where those clones came from, we might run into more or right into Gedeon. Plus, in here, we’re pretty much hidden...no one can see us!”

“Okay, well, in that case, let’s see just where this tunnel leads...”

The passage was too cramped for Ian to extend his wizard staff and use his magic like before. But there was enough room for him to crawl in front of Barley and use his phone to light the way for the both of them again. For the further and further away they got from the tunnel’s opening, the darker their space became.

As the brothers moved along the inside of the tunnels, small pieces of rock would fall in front of them from time to time, and the texture of the rock itself soon began to hurt their hands as they crawled.

“Uck, it’s like an air vent in here...” Ian complained.

“Yeah, I think that’s kinda the point,” Barley said, trying to lighten the mood. “But still, this is so exciting! Here we are, Sir Ian and Barley of Lightfoot, infiltrating a gremlin lair deep in the heart of the Untold Caverns, to take back a medallion of great, mystifying power from—”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re on a quest, I think we’ve established that by now. I just hope we don’t get lost in here, or worse—trapped for eternity! Yeah, what would be worse: getting caught by Gedeon and his clones or being trapped in here forever?”

“Mmm...rather not say, much less think about that.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. Just saying, I have a feeling our quest is now at the part where it’s about to get really, really dangerous.”

“Hey, speaking of really, really dangerous, what in Zadar are they trying to make back there, anyway?”

“Uh, Barley? Hello? It’s obviously some kind of doomsday device. I kinda had a feeling Gedeon would want to make something like that after stealing what ‘rightfully belonged to him.’”

“Yeah, might be...but what’s it gonna do exactly? Torture people? Give the S.S. Medallion more power than it already has? Clean gremlin’s teeth?”

“Okay, I highly doubt that last one.”

“Oh, come on! It’s some sort of chair! And have you seen their teeth? They need serious help.”

“Says the guy who could also brush his teeth once in a while, along with shower...”

“Hey!”

“No, no, seriously, what he’s making has to have some evil purpose. I just know it. But after taking the S.S. Medallion, the one thing he really wanted, what else could he possibly want to do?”

Just then, Ian’s hand felt a wall in front of him.

“What the—uh...I think this is the end,” he said with a hint of worry in his voice.

Barley snorted. “The end? As in lava pouring through? Ha! Good one, Ian! Now you’re really overreacting.”

“No, I mean, we’ve reached the end of the tunnel...and possibly even a dead end...”

The last thing the younger Lightfoot wanted to do was turn back and crawl through the tunnels again. But as he touched the wall some more, Ian thought he felt another small hole just like the last door had.

“Wait a minute...” he mumbled again, then he let his thoughts trail off as he put his index finger through the hole, and peeked his eye through it. “Hey, I think I see something!”

“Oooooh, hath we reached the ground level of Gedeon’s lair?”

“No, I don’t think so. Doesn’t look like it. But still, I think I see a room! And I don’t think anyone’s in there...”

“Let me see!” the older Lightfoot insisted as he tried to get next to Ian. But to the younger elf, all he was really trying to do was get them both stuck.

“Hey, watch it!”

But at that moment, Barley’s want to push through pushed the small door open all the way. Without a wall for either of them to lean on for support, both the Lightfoot brothers yelped as they wobbled and fell forward from the tunnel system, crashing down to the floor of the room.

◊ ◊ ◊

THUD.

That was what Gedeon and all of his loyal clones suddenly heard in his huge cavern hideout.

“What was that?” he asked aloud with a tone.

“Not sure, sir. Perhaps a cave-in somewhere?” suggested one of the clones that was working on the mysterious contraption.

The gremlin-turned-leprechaun was once again overseeing their progress on its completion, with his pacing every few minutes indicating his impatience on wanting it done.

But now pacing up and down again, he said, “no, no, no, I know where that sound came from!” Then marching over to the machine, Gedeon grabbed the arm of the clone that just spoke, and dragged him along. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

And with that, the leprechaun and the clone left the giant room behind and entered a hallway at the back of the cavern.

◊ ◊ ◊

“You all right, Barley?”

The brothers were still on the ground, except now it wasn’t as rocky as the tunnel.

“Ow! You’re sitting on my head!” Barley moaned.

“Oh, sorry!” Ian stood up immediately and helped his brother up. Then after dusting off their clothes and their cloaks, the two of them looked up and remembered they were now in the room that they were just peeking into from inside the tunnel.

It wasn’t a huge room, no bigger than a walk-in closet, but it sure had a lot of stuff in it. Filing cabinets, desks, walls completely covered in paper and metal, and loads of lit candles. The brothers walked around, observing it all.

“Where...are we?” the older elf asked.

“Well...going off my doomsday device theory,” Ian suggested as he flipped some of the papers on one of the desks, “looks like a...secret...plotting room?”

“Yeah, could be,” Barley said. His eyes were on the walls, which had several different maps of places in the realm. Some of which had pushpins on them. “Whoa, he must’ve gone to all these places since he stole the medallion back!”

Ian cringed at the sound of that. “Gee, thanks, Barley. That makes me feel a whole lot better...”

“Sorry.”

It was just as the younger elf had feared. Letting Gedeon get away with the medallion gave the devious wizard the opportunity to do just what he wanted, wherever he wanted. But then Ian felt his foot step on something long and thin. It was a cable! His eyes followed it, expecting to find a source, and soon they landed on it.

“Hey, there-there’s a router in here!” he said to his brother.

“In a cavern?” Barley rushed right over next to Ian to see this with his own two eyes. Once he saw it, and saw it plugged in and running, his face filled with disgust. “What has he done to this place?!” He then paced around the small room, throwing his arms. “I mean...th-this is supposed to be a place of historical significance! Not a place made for built-in electrical outlets!”

Ian laughed nervously. “Maybe Gedeon can’t live without internet, either?”

“Well, gee, if he wanted it so badly, he should just have his clone slave-running mansion somewhere else!”

“Not our main problem right now, Barley. We have to figure out where we are in this...mansion-infested home of Gedeon’s, then get to him and the medallion.”

But Barley, stubborn as a mule when it came to pieces of history being tarnished, continued stomping around the room, enraged, until he saw something carefully laid out on another one of the room’s desks.

“Hey, Ian, check this out,” he said, calling his brother over.

Ian joined the older elf, then his eyes laid on the many long sheets of paper that covered the desk. They were all drawings, with some small notes added in between, as if it were a blueprint. He let out a small gasp when he saw what was drawn on first.

“It’s the medallion.”

“And Gedeon...” the older Lightfoot pointed out.

It was a drawing of the gremlin standing right next to a turnaround schematic of the S.S. Medallion.

But as Barley looked closer, he noticed something unusual. “Except...why does he have a hole in his chest?”

“What?” Ian moved over and squinted his eyes at the drawing. “That’s strange...I-I know ‘grotesque’ is in his name, but...this is disturbing.”

“And it gets more disturbing...”

Barley had taken out a sheet underneath the one he and his brother were just looking at, and held it up for the younger elf to see.

Ian gasped again, then grabbed the sheet. “It’s the chair!”

“Yeah, with all those robotic medical arms and stuff attached to it,” the older elf pointed out again.

The pieces looked more put together in the drawing than they did on the current contraption, but it was all clearly laid out.

“And...is that Gedeon laying down on it?” Ian asked his brother, showing him the sheet and pointing to the drawing of a gremlin situated on top.

“I mean, who else?”

The younger Lightfoot examined the sheet, then glancing over at the desk with the first drawing, he eyed the S.S. Medallion. Then he veered his gaze to the hole in Gedeon’s chest. It was round, just like the medallion. Ian then lifted the second sheet over, and looked back and forth at everything, connecting the dots.

“Oh, no...” he finally uttered.

“What?” Barley asked, leaning in closer.

“It looks like he wants to fuse the medallion with himself!” the younger elf cried, his eyes not leaving the blueprints, then he turned to his brother. “Is that even possible?”

“Going by my questing knowledge...I don’t think so? But hey, the guy’s got a router in this room! What do I know?”

Ian held the second sheet tightly in his grasp as he began to worriedly pace. “Oh...oh, this is bad...if-if Gedeon manages to merge the medallion inside of him, we’ll never be able to get it back!” He then raced back over to the desk with the diagram of the medallion and Gedeon. Looking over it again, he furrowed his brows in thought. “This is all evidence. We gotta—”

“SHH!” Barley was now standing by the large, metal door that was next to the desk. He pressed his ear against it, then he felt his heart drop. “Uh-oh...”

“What now?”

“I think I hear Gedeon coming!”

As Ian felt his own heart drop in fear, Barley ran towards him, with the younger elf wondering if his brother was going to lift him into the air and carry him somewhere safe. But instead, the older Lightfoot brushed past him and pointed to the tunnel hole.

“Quick! Back to the vent—er, tunnel—er, whatever that’s called!” he cried.

Ian hesitantly walked over to his brother and eyed the circular doorway. “It’s too high, I don’t think we can reach up there!”

“Sure we can! Use the Levitation Spell!”

“I-I’m not sure I can lift both of us up there at once.”

“Ian! We’re running out of time! Do it! Hurry!”

Without any other choice, Ian aimed his wizard staff at Barley, and called out, “Aloft Elevar!”

With ease, the spell worked. Barley was levitated into the air, just like this morning.

“Awesome!” the older elf cheered, then he gestured to the tunnel hole again. “Now, get me in there!”

Lifting Barley off the ground was one thing, but lifting him higher into the air was a burden. Ian wasn’t sure if he or his brother would make it.

In his struggle, the younger elf said, “maybe you shouldn’t have had all those sandwiches!”

But soon Barley was level with the tunnel. As he forced his top half into the space, he shouted to Ian, “I’m in, let go!”

The young wizard did just that and the older Lightfoot shimmied the rest of himself through.

Once his whole self was inside, Barley poked his head out and cried, “come on, Ian!”

A now-sweating Ian’s arms felt like jelly from the effort of lifting his big brother into the high tunnel. He really wasn’t sure if he had the strength to do the same spell on himself. But just then, his elf ears picked up on the sound of a door handle jangling. He let out a panicked gasp as he stared at it. His time was up.

“Ian...” Barley said with his own panic. He’d heard the door handle, too. His brother was about to get caught for sure.

Still sweating and panicking, with his heart now beating even faster, Ian looked around the room. He was sure he could find something to hide behind while Gedeon was in the room. But then at the last moment, he thought of a much better idea.

Pointing his staff at himself, then drawing a triangle with it in the air and gesturing a slash through it, the younger elf cried, “Visage Invisio!”

In a flash, Ian had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen in Barley’s eyes. But at a time like this, it made him feel nothing but relieved.

“Way to go, young mage!” he whispered to himself as he lay flat on his belly in the tunnel.

Then as the older elf heard the door finally open, he decided to move himself backward and shut the tunnel door so that Gedeon wouldn’t suspect anything. Luckily, he still had a trusty eyehole to look through in his hiding place so that he could see exactly what the fiendish wizard was planning to do in the room while at the same time, keep an eye on his younger brother who was still down there—or at least try to since he couldn’t actually see him.

Ian, on the other hand, now under the Invisibility Spell, held his staff tightly in both of his hands as he felt the first few seconds of being unseen. He reminded himself that in order to keep the spell going and not expose himself to Gedeon, he had to appear to belong.

Since all the objects in the room were inanimate and still, the younger Lightfoot figured as long as he stood still and didn’t move, he’d remain invisible. At the moment, he was standing next to a tall filing cabinet, not too far from the desk with the blueprints. If Gedeon was in the room long enough that Ian could not stand still anymore, he’d use the cabinet to hide behind as a last resort. Not that it would be able to hide him well, but in case his spell chose to backfire on him, that was his only solution.

Soon Gedeon entered the room, with one of his clones following behind him. The leprechaun looked at the space in front of him. It was quiet. No disturbances, no sounds, no intruders in sight. He smiled smugly.

The rogue wizard then closed the metal door behind him and his clone, just as the clone—who had noticed all the different maps and plans—began to ask, “your secret war room, boss?”

“Why, yes, it is,” Gedeon answered. “The place where I conjure all my elaborate schemes.”

Called it, Ian thought while still remaining motionless.

“So, why’d you bring me here?” the clone asked his master.

The shapeshifted gremlin motioned him over to the blueprint desk and had him look at what was on it.

“To give you a reminder,” Gedeon said. He pointed around the sheet which detailed the S.S. Medallion and the drawing of him with the hole in his chest. “This is my medallion, and this is me. Your job is to—”

The rogue wizard lifted the first sheet, expecting to find the second sheet with the detailed drawing of the contraption right underneath. But instead, he found it missing.

“That’s weird...where’s my schematic of the operation?”

Gedeon looked under the rest of the sheets, then searched above and below the desk, but couldn’t find the sheet he wanted anywhere.

Ian thought that was impossible. He could’ve sworn he left the sheet right where it was before he and Barley went into hiding. But then he felt a shot of panic pierce itself into his heart. He realized he’d actually dropped the sheet just as he’d begun to wield his Invisibility Spell, and that the paper in question was now right in front of him!

Barley saw it, too, and couldn’t help but be concerned that this little setback would cause his brother to fail the Invisibility Spell and expose himself to Gedeon. But he knew the magic decree and hoped his brother did as well.

In the room and clutching his staff even tighter, the invisible younger elf was terrified, but kept concentrating.

Stay calm, Ian, he tried to assure himself in his head. He’ll find it eventually. He won’t find you. Just DON’T move.

Luckily, after stepping away from the desk a little, Gedeon’s eyes did find the sheet. “Oh, there it is! How in Chantar’s Talon did it get over here?”

Watching the gremlin-turned-leprechaun reach for the piece of paper, Ian suddenly realized just how close he was to the medallion now. He wanted so much to grab it and take it away from its keeper. But he also knew just a small tug on the pendant would tip his enemy off and risk his presence. He just had to stay still. No matter what.

“Now, what was I saying?” the shapeshifter pretended to wonder as he then held up the found schematic to his clone.

“My job?” his copy answered.

“Ah, yes...your job...your job is to make this!” the leprechaun enunciated, pointing to the drawing of the contraption. “Make it so that I may lie here, then you and the other clones can surgically implant the medallion halfway into my chest.”

The clone cringed at the sound of “surgically implanting,” as did Ian and Barley from where they were hiding.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, boss?” the gremlin asked Gedeon, still sounding unconfident.

But Gedeon, losing his patience, shouted, “OF COURSE IT IS!” He then threw the sheets down on the ground in a fit of rage. “I’ve had my medallion taken from me for the last time! Once I have it implanted inside of me, no one—not even meddlesome wizard boys like that Ian—can take it away from me ever again!”

Ian shuddered at the sound of his own name. Gedeon had not forgotten about him yet.

Meanwhile, the clone had felt intimidated enough. Not wanting any more arguing from his boss, he said quietly, “of course, master.”

“So, you understand what you must do?” Gedeon asked, crossing his arms.

“Yes, master.”

“Good. Now, back to work with you!”

Gedeon led his clone out of the room. The leprechaun opened the door and let him through. While the clone made a left down a hall, the shapeshifted gremlin stopped for a moment. As one of his hands held the door, he used his other to hold up the medallion’s pendant.

“Don’t you worry, my precious S.S. Medallion,” Gedeon cooed. “Soon, you and I will be together forever...just you wait.”

Afterwards, he let the door go, and it began to close. With the rogue wizard clearly out of the room now, Ian raced over to the door, and held it open. Despite moving practically all the way across the room, his spell remained intact. He was still invisible. The elf wizard then peeked through the door’s opening and watched Gedeon stroll down the hall in the same direction the clone had gone.

Once the leprechaun turned a left corner at the end of the hall and was out of view, Ian let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay...the coast is clear,” he said out loud. With those words, the spell was undone and the younger Lightfoot was now visible again.

Barley, having heard his brother, opened the tunnel door outward, extending a hand. He peeked his head out, laughing with relief, and said, “phew! Now that was a closer one.”

Then he tried to shimmy himself out of the space. But Ian, knowing this could lead to another crash for Gedeon to hear, held out his staff towards his brother.

“Hold on, I’ll get you down!” he said. After awkwardly using a leg to keep the door open, he gripped his hands tighter on his staff, then proclaimed, “Aloft Elevar!”

Once more, magic surrounded Barley as the younger elf carefully levitated him down to the ground.

As the older Lightfoot landed on his own two feet, Ian let go of the spell and asked him, “you good?”

“Yep, all good,” Barley assured as he dusted himself off again.

Ian smiled. He then moved his leg and peeked out the door again, eyeing the way Gedeon and his clone went.

After hearing his brother let out a “hmm...,” the older elf asked him, “whatcha thinking?”

Rather than answer right away, Ian reached for and grabbed a loose rock that was near the door and used it to hold it open so that he wouldn’t have to anymore. Then he approached one of the maps on the walls. He’d just noticed it right when he was under the Invisibility Spell and had nothing better to do than to move his eyes around the room and notice stuff. It had a series of pathways and directions, and had a red theme—just like the caverns themselves.

“This must be a map of Gedeon’s side of the Untold Caverns,” Ian finally said. Then he found exactly where he and his brother were and pointed. “We must be here...” the younger Lightfoot added, then he drew his index finger on the part of the hall where Gedeon and the clone left. “And that hall must lead right into his main room!”

Barley was right next to Ian, staring at the map. They had been all over Gedeon’s so-called mansion, and were now just getting close to his main base of operations.

“We really gotta get that medallion away from him,” he said.

“Hey, I’ve been telling myself that same thing almost fifty times now,” Ian said in a dull voice. “We need a plan.”

Suddenly, his elf ears picked up on some voices. He could hear them more clearly now that the door was opened slightly. He rushed over it, and peeked from behind it to see two clones walking by.

“Man, I wish we had something fun to do,” the first clone said.

“Yeah, somethin’ that wasn’t work!” the second clone agreed. “But hey, I heard clone 789 tell clone 1080 that Master Gedeon was gonna go out in a little bits.”

Afterwards, their voices became inaudible to Ian, and he went straight back to thinking. Barley joined right beside him again, anticipating some sort of idea for an approach.

Soon the younger elf’s face brightened, and he looked to his brother. “Hey...Barley, remember when we went to the rest stop on our last quest?”

Not expecting that of all things, the older Lightfoot raised an eyebrow. “Yeah...why?”

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 31 ◊

Lightfoots in Arms

The large, metal door of the secret war room slowly opened—making a sharp, creaking sound in the process. From the inside, out popped the head of another one of Gedeon’s clones. He looked to his left and right to see if anyone was coming on either side of the hall.

When the coast was clear, he exited the room, then turned back to the door and asked, “well, how do I look?”

Peeking his head out of the doorway next was Barley, and his face read pride. “Like no gremlin’s going to suspect a thing! Just remember: ‘disguising yourself is—’”

“‘—is a lie, and you must tell the truth to get by,’” the masked Ian finished for him. “Yep...I definitely learned that lesson the hard way. Twice. But now it’s time for me to give Gedeon a taste of his own medicine. If he can trick me using this spell, then so can I.”

“I really hope so, young mage. But seriously, if you run into any trouble, just give me one of the different signals we talked about, and if it sounds to me like you really need help, I’m gonna come running as fast as I can.”

The younger elf could tell his brother was voicing concern for his safety, but at a time like this, was it really any use to call him out on it? Rather than do that, Ian instead made a grin with his illusioned teeth.

“Thanks, Barley,” he said, then after taking a deep breath in and letting it go, he turned for the left side of the hallway—the same way he saw Gedeon and his clone companion go, and added, “well...here goes.”

The older elf watched as Ian marched his way down the hall, looking and acting like a gremlin after all they’d seen today. Once his brother was out of view, Barley began to do his part in their grand and glorious plan.

The first thing he did was collect Gedeon’s plans of S.S. Medallion infusion and stuff them right into his satchel, then he turned to the walls and took pictures with his phone of all the places the crafty wizard had gone off to using the medallion.

While he knew exposing this entire room would be a snap, deep down all the older Lightfoot wanted to do was act like a true gremlin and destroy everything in sight like a maniac—especially the modern stuff. But he figured he could leave that for last until he got all the evidence he and Ian needed to prove Gedeon as a true villain, and until he knew for sure his brother succeeded in his part of the plan.

As dangerous and risky as it was, and despite his swelling distress over it, all Barley could think about was Ian and the utter brilliance of this whole scheme. Snatching more papers and snapping additional pictures, the older elf wondered, how could it possibly fail?

◊ ◊ ◊

Ian peered around a corner. He could hear the commotions of the other clones. As it turned out, he didn’t have to walk very far from the secret war room at all to get to the gigantic main room of Gedeon’s hideout. A couple more feet, a few more turns, and soon the teenage elf disguised as a gremlin found himself at the very place he wanted to be.

On the floor itself, it appeared a lot more hectic and busy than from up top where he and Barley had watched moments ago. But that didn’t matter. There seemed to be no sign of Gedeon anywhere—making harsh demands, lighting clones out of existence or anything of that sort—just as the clones passing the plotting room had promised. It was now time for the younger Lightfoot to put his part of his and his brother’s plan into action.

He pulled out his phone and opened his music app. Then pressing the play button, he began to blast loud bouncing music for the whole cavern to hear!

Sure enough, the whole cavern did hear the music as each and every clone turned and stared at who they all believed was another one of them. It was just what the elf in disguise had wanted to happen.

Ian cleared his throat, then shouted to them in the best gremlin clone accent he could make, “HEAR YE! HEAR YE! COME ONE, COME ALL! I challenge all of ye to a dance battle!”

The clones murmured to each other, confused. A dance battle? In Gedeon’s hideaway of all places? This was a surprise.

Inside the illusion, the teenage elf could see their reluctance. He couldn’t blame them. But while maintaining an upbeat attitude, he added, “that’s right, a dance battle! Let us see which one of us can bust his moves the best, and have a little fun! Whaddya say?”

The gremlins looked at each other and murmured some more. This time sounding a lot more interested in this idea than before. Some of them began dropping their tools, and made their way towards Ian while others remained unwilling.

“That’s it! Gather round! Form a circle!” Ian instructed them as they came forth. “Let the fight begin!”

The clones did as the younger Lightfoot commanded. They formed a circle, leaving a huge space in the middle for brave dancers to strut their stuff. They also began clapping along to the music to give the competition a little more excitement.

“Alrighty then, who’s up to dance first?” Ian asked the crowd.

Soon a clone slowly stepped into the circle and began to dance in front of the others. He pumped his arms into the air repeatedly, acting as if he’d just won something, and moved from one side of the circle to the other.

“Ah, someone’s already quite cocky,” Ian commented. “But this fight has only just begun! Come on, everyone! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The clones chanted, “fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” along with their supposed equal as they clapped along, and soon at least three new clones entered the ring, busting moves and showing each other off.

“There we go! Now this is a true dance battle!” Ian cheered. This plan was already working a lot better than he thought it would. He lifted his arms up into the air, shouting “woohoo!” feeling like for a moment he was one with the clones, until one of them standing next to him noticed the source of his music.

“Oooooh, a phone!” the clone pointed out.

“Where did you get that?” another clone asked.

“Did you steal it?” a third clone inquired.

It was then that Ian realized clones didn’t actually have their own phones. While he didn’t exactly think that part of his scheme through, he knew he couldn’t lie about this one. The phone he had with him actually was his, he didn’t steal it. But he also knew without question that saying the opposite would unmask his spell. In his quick moment of panic, the masked elf had to find some way to dance around the truth. Quite literally as this was a dance-off.

“Uh...n-no, I...I didn’t steal it...” he began to answer nervously, “because...because it’s mine! All mine! MINE. MINE. MINE.” The teenage elf then let out the best evil laugh he could to the gremlins in an effort for his truth to make more sense to them.

Luckily, the dense clones around him seemed to buy it.

“Ha-ha, good one, mate,” one of them said, patting him on the back. Then he and the other gremlins all clapped and cheered some more.

As the three clones who were just dancing left the circle, Ian realized the song he was currently playing was about to end. So he let it end, then he decided to enter the circle himself, intent on making an announcement. This was step three of his and Barley’s master plan.

“Great moves, everyone! Lots of worthy competition so far! But I have an idea for a prize that’s sure to make you dance even harder!”

The gremlins oohed and aahed with intrigue, wondering what it could possibly be. They were all ears as they leaned in and listened to the organizer’s proposal for a prize.

“Whoever busts his moves the best gets to play with Gedeon’s little medallion friend!” he declared.

At that moment, every clone gasped, then began to talk over each other anxiously.

“What?”

“But Master Gedeon has never removed his medallion from himself...not since he got it back!”

“He’d never let us!”

Hearing them all at once, Ian expected this sort of reaction. But thankfully, he knew just what to say that was sure to convince the clones otherwise while keeping his disguise intact without lying.

“Oh, and why shouldn’t he?” he asked rhetorically. “Why should he have all the fun? That medallion doesn’t belong to him!”

“Oye, ye better not say that in front of him, lad,” warned one of the clones. “He’d rage!”

“Oh, come on, mates! You’re all his clones for cryin’ out loud! Where do you think he’d be if you weren’t there to do his dirty work for him? Eh?”

The clones murmured in agreement. Their peer seemed to make a good point. They were a part of Gedeon’s DNA, after all.

“So...are y’all in?” Ian asked. “Winner takes the medallion for a day?”

“Let’s do it!” one of the clones shouted, and all the other clones cheered along with him.

“Excellent!”

With the next part of his and Barley’s plan settled, Ian began to play some music again, then he returned to the crowd and watched as more clones came out and danced their socks off.

Every few moments or so, gremlins came out and danced in the circle. Afterwards, when they had enough, they went back into the crowd, allowing new ones to come in and strut their stuff.

Being clones newborn every once in a while, and servants of Gedeon, Ian could see very well that each of their dancing wasn’t the best he’d ever seen.

Wow...these clones...are terrible... he thought. It made him giggle. He knew he was sure to win this thing in no time. Man, I wish Barley were here to see this. Or...maybe he can.

As Ian continued to play his music on his phone—knowing it was loud enough for all the clones to hear no matter where he was—he swiftly snuck out of the circle, then opened his face chat app, and called his brother.

Seeing as there was a router in this area of the caverns, the younger elf knew both his and Barley’s phones would work, and that they could use them for signals. While he knew full well that this wasn’t an emergency, Ian also knew he couldn’t just leave someone as fun-loving as Barley out of this entertainment. Not while the older Lightfoot was collecting as much evidence as he could to expose Gedeon of his crimes and soon-to-be crimes. Plus, now was as good a time as any for progress reports on both ends.

In seconds flat, Barley picked up right away.

“Ian? What’s happening? Is everything okay?” he asked rapidly, but also quietly on the other line in case Gedeon was nearby.

“Everything’s...working out great,” the younger Lightfoot answered with a grin. “Check this out!”

He pointed the screen side his phone to the crowd of clones as they continued the dance battle for his brother to see. He then moved closer and managed to give Barley a glance at the gremlins that were currently dancing in the circle.

The older elf watched and was amazed. “Whoa-ho-ho! You really got them going!”

“I know, right?” Ian said, now facing the camera again and smiling. Then he whispered, “though gotta say, they’re a lot worse than I am.”

Barley laughed at that, but then sounding grave, he asked his brother. “So how much longer are you going to keep this up? Is Gedeon around? Have all the clones turned against him yet?”

“Uh...no, he’s not. Not yet, I don’t think. But I’ve already let his clones know that whoever dances the best gets the medallion. And very shortly, hopefully, that clone will be me...but even if it’s not, they’re definitely having more fun than they’ve had since we got here, and they seem to want the medallion from him as much as we do. So...they’re sure to be on our side soon. They just have to! Then once Gedeon comes back, he will be outnumbered whatever number to one and won’t stand a chance.”

“It’s a great plan, Ian,” the older Lightfoot said on the other line.

“Thanks, and, uh, the evidence? How’s that going?”

“Did Gedeon ever mention to you when he posed as your teacher that he loves paper?”

The concealed elf wizard chuckled. “No, but hey, as much evidence as we can get, the better.” Then he looked over at the gremlin circle, now noticing that it had gotten bigger. “I...better get back to the dance battle. Rouse up the clones some more.”

“Yeah! Yes! Go do that, young mage! And hurry!”

“I will, but, uh...actually...don’t you want to watch some more? You know I’d hate to leave you out of something like this.”

“That’s very kind of you, Ian. But really, you’d only blow our cover. I think getting the medallion and the clones on our side is the top priority. So do that if you can!”

“Okay, got it. Wish me luck!”

Afterwards, the younger Lightfoot hung up with his brother and returned to the circle, where the clapping and chanting of, “fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” continued. He’d returned to his spot just as more gremlins who were done dancing returned to the crowd.

Without a single clone in the ring, one of the them next to Ian turned to him and said, “hey, buddy, how’s about you have a turn?”

“Who, me?” the masked elf asked, the request catching him a little off guard.

“Yeah, you!”

Without giving Ian the chance to respond further, the clones in the circle surrounding the teenage elf disguised as a gremlin pushed him out into the open ring for all to see. As Ian wobbled into the center, he had found himself enclosed by almost every gremlin clone in the cavern, chanting and cheering for him to strut this stuff. So without a moment to lose, the younger Lightfoot began to dance, knowing his moves were about as good as the rest of these clones.

Deciding to start simple, he outstretched his arms one at a time, giving his hands a rotating twirl with each arm. Then he locked his arms to his chest, before outstretching them again—this time simultaneously—with an added jump into the air.

After landing back down on the ground, he could see that the clones were impressed. They liked what they were seeing so far, and wanted him to do more. And so Ian did more.

Warm-ups aside, the teenage elf spun around, making the clones cheering around him look like a blur. Then once he stopped, he swayed side to side, pumping his arms up and down to the music. Eventually, Ian had gotten so into it that his toes ended up on their tips. But not because he was afraid. To his surprise, he was having fun with these gremlins! They all loved him and from the sounds of their more enthused clapping and chanting, it seemed like he was sure to win their trust and the grand prize of the S.S. Medallion for sure!

So the disguised elf danced and danced some more as the clones in the circle wildly cheered him on. But unbeknownst to all of them, Gedeon—who was still in his leprechaun form—had come around the corner where the Lightfoot brothers had seen the clone with the wagon come from earlier. As he entered, he noticed immediately the loud music being played and the lack of work being done around his cavernous lair.

With an angry huff, he stomped over to one of the clones that wasn’t in the dance battle circle, but was watching the commotion happening from afar, anyway. The leprechaun got his clone’s attention by clearing his throat.

The gremlin turned around nervously, “oh, m-my liege, you-you’re back already?”

“Of course I’m back!” Gedeon cried. “I went to check on Taran, only to find him asleep under a spell! I don’t know how it happened or who or what could’ve done it, but I had to cast him out of it so he could stand guard for me again.”

He then looked over his copy’s shoulder to see where the rest of his clones had gone, and could see that they were all huddled about, gathering around something. Something that for some reason was more important than him.

“What’s going on over there? Why aren’t you all working? Cloning yourselves? Swashbuckling and whatnot?” he asked with demand.

“Oh, a lot of clones wanted to get together and party, sir,” the gremlin answered. “I had a feeling it was a bad idea, but they—”

With a growl, Gedeon brushed past the clone he was talking to and made his way over to the dance battle circle, resolving to put it to an end once and for all.

“What in Faldar’s Horn are you fools doing?!” he yelled as he approached the circle. “You’re all supposed to be running a tight ship around here! My tight ship!”

A couple of the clones turned away from the ring to face their master.

“Dance battle, sir!” one of them answered. “For your medallion!”

Gedeon was repulsed. “WHAT?!”

“Ya, whoever busts his moves the best gets a turn with your medallion,” another clone confirmed.

“Absolutely NOT! You work for me. You all should know that no one owns this medallion, but me!” Fueling with anger, the imposing wizard pushed his way through the clones in the crowd, and entered the ring. “Whose ridiculous idea was this? Huh?”

All the gremlins in the crowd pointed to the disguised Ian, who was still dancing in the center.

Having found himself spinning around again, the younger Lightfoot soon stopped when his eyes instantly laid upon leprechaun Gedeon and his wizard staff. At that moment, the elf disguised as a gremlin froze like a cube. Then glancing around and witnessing all of the clones pointing at him, he felt his heart drop down to his stomach.

The jig was up.

“YOU!” Gedeon shouted accusingly at him. The leprechaun then marched right towards Ian, believing him to be a gremlin clone just like everyone else in the room.

“Gedeon...” the disguised teenage elf mumbled shakingly as his enemy—with a confrontational demeanor and all—walked right up and stood before him.

“Stop the music! This little party of yours is over!”

Behind his back and under his cloak, Ian opened his phone, and turned off the music. But doing that, he suddenly realized something important. Here he was face to face with Gedeon again, and already he was playing right into his hands like before! The elf in disguise decided right then he better act nonchalant and more gremlin-like in order for his foe not to suspect anything.

“Join the battle, Gedeon,” he teased, doing another spin. “It’s a lot of fun!”

“The only fun that happens around here is under my orders!” Gedeon shouted, then stepping closer to the disguised Ian, he added, “and if you think you’re touching my medallion, you thought wrong!” Then addressing the rest of his clones, the shapeshifter stated firmly, “that goes for all of you! No one touches my medallion!”

Ian could see that sharing was something this gremlin-turned-leprechaun refused to do. But the elf-turned-gremlin figured that unwillingness next to his proud gloating was likely another one of Gedeon’s biggest weaknesses.

So the younger Lightfoot asked him bravely, “oh...wh-what are you, a-a griffin?”

The other clones in the crowd murmured with gasps and oohs at their peer’s teasing remark towards their master. Gedeon, meanwhile, merely expressed disgust at this immature mock.

But Ian wasn’t finished. He had waited a long time for this, and wasn’t going to let this threatening shapeshifter get him down. Not this time.

“Oh, poor, poor Gedeon, too griffin to give up that medallion even for a measly second, not even to his own clones!” he taunted. The disguised elf then began to dance around the nefarious wizard in an attempt to humiliate him even more. “What’s the matter, Gedeon? Too scared to let go of your so-called possession?”

The clones began to laugh and chortle with Ian’s continued jabs and movements. To the young wizard, it made his endeavor to get them all on his side appear all the more successful. But Gedeon had just about enough. As the elf disguised as a gremlin continued to dance around, the leprechaun suddenly grabbed him by the wrist.

“Please, this is balderdash!” he screamed as he took Ian and threw him aside. Then without a moment of haste, the leprechaun brandished his wizard staff and aimed it right at the younger Lightfoot and his gremlin illusion shell. “For the last time, this party is over!” he declared. “And so are you!”

Ian’s heart stopped. Standing there, he knew just what was about to happen. But before he could do anything to stop it, the wicked wizard shouted, “Luxia!”

With that, a beam of bright light shot itself from Gedeon’s staff straight at Ian. The teenage elf within the mask braced the spell. But once it hit him, he didn’t feel anything. To his surprise, he and his disguise were still present, which left the shapeshifter utterly confused.

“What?” he said, surprised. “Why didn’t you—”

So the leprechaun tried the Light Spell again. But once more, nothing happened. Then after trying it three more times, with the result he wanted not taking effect, Gedeon became frustrated.

“What is wrong with this darned wizard staff?” he complained, beating it into the palm of his hand. Then facing the disguised Ian again, he ranted, “you’re supposed to disappear! Why aren’t you disappearing?!”

The leprechaun tensed up, wondering why now of all times his spell wasn’t working. But above all, why he was suddenly being stood up to in the first place. Then he stopped himself.

With a sudden composure, he loosened up and uttered, “unless...”

Gedeon stepped forward and looked into the headstrong gremlin clone’s eyes. Stroking his chin, the shapeshifter sensed something different about this particular clone, that for some reason also seemed familiar to him. Then he thought back to Taran.

“I wonder...” he said, now smirking knowingly.

The leprechaun aimed his staff at Ian again, just as the teenage elf under the masked shell began to fear the worst. He was tempted to run, but with how successful his plan had been so far, running away was the last thing the younger Lightfoot wanted to do. So he braced himself again as Gedeon called out a spell he’d never heard of before.

“Nepo Facadis!”

With another energy blast, Ian felt his gremlin disguise flash away from existence! Its strong impact made him lose his balance and fall backward to the ground. Now on the floor, the young wizard struck a hand out in front of him. He could see from the clearness of his blue skin that he was fully back to his elf self, and exposed right in front of Gedeon and all of his clones!

He also noticed all the gremlins he had gathered for the dance battle were still encircled around him, only now based on their change of expression, they were looking at him more in a “we no longer respect you” kind of way.

And then there was Gedeon, whose smirk had now become bigger!

“Well, well, well...look who’s come to face the music! Ian...” he teased, then clutching the S.S. Medallion, he proclaimed, “Ad Normalis!”

With that incantation, the leprechaun returned to his real gremlin self, and straightened the collar on his oversized red robe with pride.

Ian couldn’t believe it. For a minute there, he felt so close to having the clones turn against their master! Felt so close to taking the S.S. Medallion back! But now here he was, at the last moment, cornered by Gedeon and his ever loyal clone army, with the talisman still around the sinister wizard’s neck! The younger Lightfoot thought for sure he could get it without the shapeshifter ever knowing he was here. But now it seemed like facing his enemy head-on was his only option.

“I do say this is just too good to be true...” Gedeon said radiantly as he strolled towards Ian. Then he furrowed his brows, looked into the air, and tapped his chin in contemptuous wonder. “But now-now seriously, how did a bright boy such as yourself find your way into my refuge, hmm?”

Ian picked himself up off the ground, readying himself for what was sure to be take two of another wizard duel with Gedeon. But suddenly, he felt his forearms grabbed by two of the evil wizard’s clones.

“Hey! Let me go!” he cried at them.

But as far as the clones were concerned, if there was an intruder—and a non-gremlin intruder at that—holding him hostage for their master seemed like the obvious thing to do. But surprisingly, Gedeon had other ideas.

“You heard him, let him go,” he commanded smugly to his copies.

For a quick second, the clones were confused. But they ultimately did as their master ordered and let go of the teenage elf.

“Now, if you please, leave us,” Gedeon added, gesturing for them to disperse.

Once more, the clones followed his bidding, and disbanded their circle. They returned to their work without further question, leaving their master with the trespasser.

Ian himself was just as baffled as the clones were about his foe’s decision. He never imagined in a million years that Gedeon would order his minions to let him go, much less leave them out of a confrontation. But he also knew without a doubt that the shapeshifter was still up to something devious, seeing as it was just the two of them now.

So the teenage elf reached for his necklace inside his shirt, unclipped his tiny wizard staff from it, then holding it out with his fingers, he declared, “Magnora Gantuan!”

If he and Gedeon were going to fight, Ian preferred that they’d do it fairly.

But as the younger Lightfoot got into position and aimed his enlarged staff at Gedeon, the gremlin placed his hands at his hips, and half-rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Oh, please! Put your staff down, Ian,” he said with disapproval. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just wanna talk.”

“Yeah, talk down to me, I’m sure,” Ian said defiantly. “Well, I’m not falling for it this time!” Still holding his staff out, he decided to reach for something from within his cloak. “The joke’s on you now, Gedeon. You disguised yourself to get to me, well...now I disguised myself to get to you!” Soon the teenage elf found just what he was looking for and held it out. “Oh, and you thoughtlessly left a little something behind in New Mushroomton...”

Ian tossed the object over to Gedeon. The gremlin picked it up, squinted his eyes, and examined it.

“Ah, one of my lucky bandanas...” he said, then upon closer inspection, he realized, “oh, and with the Dangarnon seal of all things! Very clever...”

With that, Gedeon took the bandana and put it inside his red robe. Then he began to pace around.

“So, Ian, what brings you to my side of the Untold Caverns?” the gremlin asked. “I have to admit, it was quite bold of you to come here alone. What with my magic, clone army, and all that. I’m amazed you were able to best Taran and win my minions over so easily. How very, very clever.”

As Gedeon did his regular gloating and bragging to his pawn, Ian maneuvered a hand through the side of his cloak once more, and reached it behind his back again. With it, he grabbed his phone from out of his pocket, and turned it on. Pressing a button, he dialed Barley, and put the call on speaker.

◊ ◊ ◊

Barley was just about finished collecting evidence of Gedeon’s wrongdoings when he heard his adventurous, questing ringtone go off. So he looked to his phone and saw that it was his brother calling him again. Only this time, it was a regular phone call.

The older elf’s heart began beating faster. According to the signals he and Ian had planned, he knew exactly what this had to mean.

He decided to answer, but not say anything, and listen in on what was happening.

On the other line, Barley heard Ian.

“You and I both know why I’m here. We both know what I want.”

Then he heard a sarcastic voice in reply.

“Really? You think so, huh? Why...I’m not so sure I do...”

The older Lightfoot’s face became pale. That sounded a lot like Gedeon! His brother was in trouble!

Without a moment to lose, Barley removed his cloak, grabbed his sword and his satchel, then raced for the secret war room door. After using all of his might to pull it wide open, he ran out as fast as a centaur.

◊ ◊ ◊

Gedeon stroked the S.S. Medallion as he continued to play coy regarding the understanding of Ian’s presence at his lair. All while the younger Lightfoot grew angrier.

“Just give me the medallion, Gedeon!” Ian demanded.

“Oh, and why should I?” the gremlin wizard asked, sounding bored out of his mind, then he turned his back on the teenage elf. “Other than what you’ve already said before, ’cause that’s just boring the absolute Ring of Truth out of me...”

Frowning, Ian thought about it for a moment, until finally, he said, “I saw your plans...”

Gedeon stopped in place and turned around. “M-my plans?” he asked, somewhat startled.

“Yeah, your plans to implant the medallion inside of you with that!”

The younger Lightfoot pointed to the wicked wizard’s contraption, which had clones working on it again.

But now Gedeon hardly seemed surprised. “And?”

“And I won’t let you get away with this! What you’re doing is wrong! Insane, even!”

“‘Wrong’? Perhaps. ‘Insane’? Well...maybe just a little...but it’s insanity I’m willing to take!”

“Listen to me! I know what it’s like to want something so badly that you think it can completely change your life for the better,” Ian cried. “But all that did for me was blind me from seeing that what I had in front of me was all I wanted! I had what I wanted all along, and I’ve felt like I’ve become a better person because of it!”

“Oh, spare me the sweet, pathetic life lesson, Ian,” Gedeon ridiculed, then lifting the pendant of the medallion and walking right up to the younger wizard, he yelled, “can’t you see that I have just what I’ve always wanted right here?!” The gremlin then took a moment to calm himself as he felt his fiery rage consume him again. Now content, he added teasingly, “besides, it takes more than a quest to bring back the rest of dear ol’ daddy to be a great and powerful wizard, anyway...”

Ian did a double take. “Wait, you...you know about that?”

Gedeon gave himself a moment to snigger, then with a grin, he said, “bet you consider yourself quite a special kid...huh, Ian?” He began to pace around the younger wizard again, just as he did earlier in the week when he revealed his true identity. All while caressing the medallion. “Saving your town from a dragon created from a Guardian Curse? I mean, really, the people wouldn’t stop going on and on when I asked them all about you and your magic! Disguised, of course. With this. But what really caught me by surprise was when they got to the part where the famous elf brothers paved the way for the return of magic in a world full of mundane and technology...”

The gremlin then stopped his pacing in front of Ian, who now looked a little more intimidated with every word he spoke.

“And that’s when I realized...” Gedeon continued, then he pointed his staff at the teenage elf. “If it wasn’t for you, magic wouldn’t even be back in this world! Then I wouldn’t have been so set on tracking down my beloved treasure. Guess I have one more reason to thank you, Ian. Without you, this medallion here wouldn’t even be in my hands now, would it? So let me ask you, when it comes to me getting this far, whose fault is it really?”

Daunted, Ian could hardly utter a word. His enemy had him all figured out.

“Aw, now, now, don’t be discouraged,” Gedeon said, trying to sound sympathetic as he walked over to the younger Lightfoot. Then the gremlin leaned in close to him. “You’re a teenager, right? And teenagers love to prove themselves, don’t they?”

“What are you saying?” Ian asked, now irritated.

“Aha! Now there’s the smart wizard boy I once mentored,” Gedeon pointed, excited. Then clutching the S.S. Medallion again, he declared, “Mutatio Viventium!”

With a bright bubble, and the same magic as his previous transformations, Gedeon transformed into—of all beings—Mr. Vance.

A smirk on his face, the gremlin-turned-elf said, “quite fitting, isn’t it?” He even had the voice of the teacher again.

To this, the teenage elf frowned hard.

Then with his staff, Gedeon as Mr. Vance placed his real-feeling elf hands behind his back. He paced around Ian once more, feeling proud to be in the form he had used to trick the younger wizard into giving him what he wanted. Only this time, it was corporeal.

“I don’t think you’ve come here just to get the medallion back, Ian. No, no. I know exactly what you want! You want a rematch. To try and...overpower me. To get inside my head. To be the better wizard.”

Ian clenched his fists. He really had just about enough of this guy. “Yeah, well...maybe I don’t need to be the better wizard to beat you!”

Gedeon stopped short and cackled again. “That’s cute, but oh-so careless...”

“And that’s another thing!” the teenage elf said bravely. “Maybe I don’t need to care so much, either! Not for the words you say! I don’t care what it takes. I am walking out of here with that medallion.”

The fake elf shook his head. “Oh, Ian, Ian, Ian...we’ve been over this! This medallion is mine now. No one else was going to take good care of it. Not even you.”

“HEY! DON’T TALK TO MY BROTHER LIKE THAT!”

Barley stood afar at the entrance to the main room, but his shout was loud enough for both Ian and Gedeon to hear. The younger Lightfoot turned around and smiled wide. His signal had worked! His brother was now here to take a stand with him.

Without a moment’s hesitation and with his sword in hand, Barley raced over to join Ian’s side whilst giving a scowl at the menacing shapeshifter.

“Well, well, and who’s this?” Gedeon inquired as the older elf came over, then looking at Ian, he added, “oh, I remember now...this is your brother...Barely...”

“And you can’t talk to my brother like that,” the younger elf asserted.

Grinning evilly, the gremlin in disguise held out the pendant of red, blue, and gold to the brothers. “So, boys...you want this medallion, huh?” he challenged. “Well, then, let’s dance!”

Placing two fingers into his mouth, Gedeon let out a sharp whistle, which caught the attention of all his gremlin clones.

As each one of his minions turned to face him, the fraud Mr. Vance pointed his staff at Ian and Barley, and shouted, “SEIZE THEM!”

Snickering and snarling, the clones did as Gedeon commanded and began to surround the two elf brothers.

“Thought you could fight me on your own?” the shapeshifter taunted, stepping backwards from the crowd. “Well, let’s see how you handle my clones!”

He disappeared from the brothers’ view as he let his clones close in on them, then he decided he would transform into something else using the S.S. Medallion.

“Mutatio Viventium!”

In a matter of moments, the former Mr. Vance became a tiny sprite, and flew up into the air—as high as the cavern ceilings would let him—to observe all the action.

Rubbing his hands together, sprite Gedeon said gleefully to himself, “oh-ho-ho, this is going to be good...”

On the cavern grounds below, the teenage elves stood back to back from each other as the clones began to besiege them. In every direction they looked, there were gremlins slowly trudging forward with their claws out in front of them—bent on doing harm.

“Barley...” Ian muttered. Though he felt uneasy, a single glance at his brother had him notice the unwavering smirk on the older elf’s face.

“You know what to do...” Barley said to the younger Lightfoot confidently as he lifted his sword.

Realizing exactly what the older Lightfoot meant, Ian grew his own smirk. “I sure do!”

With a new challenge before them, the brothers brandished their wizard staff and blade respectively, and aimed them at the gremlins.

Feeling his Heart’s Fire ignite, Ian pointed his staff at a clone, and called out, “Luxia!”

As the bright beam of light from the spell hit the clone’s eyes, he shrieked, then instantly sparked out of existence. There was now one less clone to deal with within the sea of clones.

“Ha-ha! Nice, Ian!” Barley cheered.

“Thanks, but...there’s more where that came from!” the younger elf cried worriedly as he acknowledged the clones that continued to surround him and his brother. He knew a single Light Spell attack on one clone was not enough to scare them all off. He had to keep using it!

So Ian shouted the incantation again, bringing about another orb of light, which in turn eliminated more clones. Then he exposed the same light while it was still illuminating to the rest of the clones that came for him.

Meanwhile, Barley, letting out his inner mighty warrior, flourished his sword at the clones that were coming directly for him.

“Why, greetings, foul beasts!” he called out to them. “Doest thou dare face the wrath of my mighty sword?”

The clones responded with harsh hisses, with some of them even unleashing swords of their own. This was enough of an answer for the older elf. He decided that he would lend his magically gifted brother a hand by using his own blade to knock out the gremlins. Enough so that they would be too weak to run and escape from the horrid brightness of the Light Spell.

It was easier said than done, of course, as even the sword-less clones attempted to use their sharp teeth and claws to injure Barley themselves. But still and all, as the older Lightfoot knocked out clones, Ian did the rest with his Light Spell, and soon there were less and less clones than before.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Gedeon, who was still in his sprite form, flying around and continuing to watch the battle unfold.

“These boys are good...” he admitted to himself, “a little too good...I’ll have to do something about that...” He then zipped away, intent on making things more interesting.

Back on the ground, Ian had set a match to his Light Spell for the sixth time. To him, it seemed like this fight would never end! No matter how hard he and Barley fought, more and more clones kept coming! And the more they came, the more aggressive they got.

Soon it became apparent to both Lightfoot brothers that they were surrounded by the same number of clones they’d started with several moments ago. For whatever reason, there was no stopping them!

“There’s too many of them!” Barley cried as he struck down another clone with his sword.

“I know!” Ian agreed as he used his spell on a different duplicate. He too wondered why suddenly more and more clones appeared out of nowhere.

Standing at his tippy toes, then bending down and looking through the cracks of the crowd of clones that were coming at him and his brother, the younger Lightfoot noticed Gedeon had turned back into his gremlin self, and was dipping his toe into the cavern’s lake. With a simple touch of water from him, a birthing sensation rolled down his back, and with it, new clones were born!

“Hey! Gedeon’s creating more at the lake!” Ian shouted.

“Why, that scoundrel!” Barley exclaimed, now gazing at the sight.

“What do we do?”

“Well, on a quest, the best way to stop a problem is by going to its source!”

“Uh, yeah...obviously!” Ian concurred as he aimed his light at more clones. “Our source is not only causing this, but he has the medallion, too! We’ve gotta get to him somehow!”

“You’re telling me!”

Suddenly, Barley felt a strangling tug from his satchel and realized that one of the clones was trying to grab ahold of it.

“Hey! Claws off!” he cried as he attempted to slice the gremlin with his sword.

The clone himself backed away, and so long as he was confronted, Ian aimed his Light Spell at him, and soon he vanished like all the other clones.

“Thanks, man,” Barley said, relieved. Then he noticed that the clone went so far as to try and open his satchel. But that’s when he caught sight of his geode. Looking at it, then glancing at his brother using the Light Spell, an idea formed in his head.

“Barley, I could really use your help over here!” Ian yelled as more and more aggressive looking gremlins attempted to clobber him.

“And help you shall receive!” the older elf called to him. He took out his geode, and held it high into the air for his brother to see.

“Hey! Your geode!” Ian noticed happily.

“Yeah! If it can irritate a giant spider, I bet it’ll irritate these guys way more!”

“Good call! Let’s do it!”

So Ian and Barley joined together—wizard staff and geode—just as there were more clones surrounding them than ever. The older Lightfoot held the geode up as high as he could possibly reach, then Ian placed his staff right next to it.

With a breath in and a breath out, the younger elf called out, “Luxia!” as loud and proud as he could. Then same as before, the magic of the Light Spell took effect. It reflected straight into the geode, whose own reflection reflected onto the gremlins.

The light brought on immense pain into the eyes of the clones. They could all see it, and it was the worst feeling they had ever felt in their temporary lives. One by one, they all sparked away, leaving the Lightfoot brothers alone.

“It’s working!” Barley cried.

By the time there were only half a dozen clones left, Barley and Ian could finally see Gedeon at the lake, his foot no longer in the water. He too saw into the light, and it was weakening him.

The brothers knew their light wouldn’t make the gremlin shapeshifter disappear into thin air like the rest of his clones. But they figured their convergence would be enough to make him unable to use his magic.

Soon the final clone disappeared and it was just Ian, Barley, and Gedeon now.

“Yeah-hah! We did it!” Barley shouted. “We sure showed those clones who’s boss.”

“Yeah, we sure did,” Ian said. “But, uh...we’re not quite done yet.” He pointed his brother to Gedeon, who still looked weak from the light. But the gremlin slowly managed to stand up, and once he did, he eyed the Lightfoot brothers—his face full of madness and mischief.

Knowing exactly what they had to do next, Ian and Barley ran towards the lake and Gedeon.

But Gedeon himself wasn’t going to let these pesky teenage elves catch him so easily. He clutched the medallion once more, and shouted, “Mutatio Viventium!”

Another transformation, and the gremlin had become a merman. If he didn’t have the strength to use the water to clone himself, he figured he may as well do it to swim. Just as Barley and Ian were about to reach him, he dove into the lake, giving the brothers a small splash right as they’d arrived at the lake’s edge.

“Oh, great! How are we going to catch him now?” Barley complained, then he searched through his satchel. “I don’t think I have anything in here to make a—”

But before the older elf could finish his thought, Ian removed his own cloak and satchel, then aimed his staff at the body of water.

“Bridgrigar Invisia!” the young wizard proclaimed. Doing that, he leapt towards the lake, and ran across its waters without sinking into it!

From the wave patterns he saw in the lake, Ian could tell exactly which way Gedeon was going. So he followed them closely, then before he knew it, the gremlin-turned-merman rose from the water right in front of him, which made the younger Lightfoot stop short of his water sprint. Gedeon did a flip in the air, then dove straight back under. Once the merman was out of view, Ian began to chase him down again. He only hoped Gedeon wouldn’t swim so far away from the main room of the cavern that he’d escape and flee with the medallion to a place he and Barley couldn’t find. It took the brothers a lot of effort to find their enemy here as it was, and the younger elf was determined to keep it that way.

But as Ian began to wonder where Barley was and what the weaknesses of merfolk were, the waves of Gedeon’s swimming suddenly came to a halt. So the younger Lightfoot ceased his running, and stood there atop the lake, confused. After a moment or two of stillness, Ian began to feel a rumbling underneath the water. It once again almost made him lose his balance. But the last thing he wanted was to lose his concentration and get drenched. Yet the rumbling, and the increase of waves only got stronger with every passing second.

As the younger elf wondered in fear over what was happening under the water, a gigantic silhouette slowly emerged right before him from the not too deep. Rising up in the air was Gedeon, and he was no longer a slim, fleeting merman. Rather, he was now a hippocampus—the large aquatic seahorse!

Gedeon let out a loud, groggily neigh and kicked his front hooves. Compared to Ian, he was as tall as a ferris wheel and looked as though he could flop down on top of the young wizard at any moment! So Ian fled away from hippocampus Gedeon in directions the creature wasn’t facing. If there was any upside he knew to being smaller than his foe was, it was getting the large creature to lose sight of him, then attack him someplace where and when he least expected it.

But no matter which way Ian went around the hippocampus, Gedeon always seemed to find him, and tried using his ginormous hooves in an attempt to dunk him under the water. Without even a second of time to lose the gremlin-turned-hippocampus, the younger Lightfoot couldn’t think of an elaborate plan to get the medallion off from him.

Ian figured there was no way he could use the Summon Spell on Gedeon again from the size alone. Not to mention that the creature couldn’t even hold still long enough for him to use the spell, anyway. So he wondered what other spell he could possibly use on the hippocampus that would outmatch him. To make the aquatic creature stop attacking, and to defend himself from the hoove attacks.

Then suddenly, it hit the younger elf. A way to defend the monster’s attacks and fight back!

“‘Words of others must be rejected, for you to remain protected,’” he mumbled to himself as he dodged the hooves again. Seeing as he couldn’t speak or understand hippocampus language, the young wizard knew just what he had to do.

With the Trust Bridge Spell still in tow, Ian ran far from the hippocampus. The younger elf knew as long as his enemy was in that form, the shapeshifter wouldn’t be able to swim as fast as he ran to reach him. Especially when only half of Gedeon’s hippocampus self was under the water while his top half was in the air.

Ian’s dash on the lake didn’t go unnoticed by Gedeon. Just as the smaller wizard was about a few kilometers away, the hippocampus swam after him. After several more feet, Ian stopped in his tracks and faced the creature, who was still treading water towards him.

Standing brave and tall, the younger Lightfoot reached out his wizard staff, used its tip to tap both of his shoulders, and called out, “Armadura!”

The hippocampus was now right in front of Ian, and his turbulence of waves made it hard for the younger elf to tell whether his spell had worked or not. But as long as he believed, and had his Heart’s Fire remain aflame, he was sure that the spell would work better this time—at least he hoped so. After using the Light Spell on numerous clones, dodging Gedeon’s hooves several times, and running what felt like half of the whole lake away from him, Ian was starting to get exhausted.

Steaming and letting out another shrieking seahorse neigh, Gedeon the hippocampus aimed his hooves atop the elf wizard once again. This time with Ian remaining in place. But as the hoof got closer and closer to him, Ian began to reconsider just standing there and doing nothing about the latest attack. So he directed his staff at Gedeon and shouted, “Aloft Elevar!”

With his spell of Levitation, the younger Lightfoot attempted to hold the hoof in place, but it wasn’t easy.

Despite his opponent’s magic, Gedeon kept pushing his hoof through towards the tiny elf. To his advantage, with how much larger he was compared to the younger wizard, he was winning!

Ian himself was beginning to get drained from all the different spells he was casting. He especially couldn’t hold his levitation for much longer. He only wished he knew where Barley was and wished he could be on the lake and help. But without his own magic gift, it seemed like the older Lightfoot would never come to his younger brother’s aid.

Soon Ian’s energy on the Levitation Spell dissolved, and the enormous hoof came straight down upon him! The younger elf shut his eyes tightly and cringed as Gedeon’s large hippocampus hoof landed on him. But while the creature expected to instantly drown Ian straight into the water, he was surprised to find that the young wizard was still above the surface!

Under the hoof, Ian opened his eyes one at a time and noticed he was laying flat above the water—practically floating on top of it! He wasn’t sinking into it one bit! It meant his Trust Bridge Spell was still in effect! Not only that, but as he witnessed the giant hoof resting on top of him, the younger Lightfoot didn’t feel a thing. Not even the slightest hint of being smushed. He knew that it just had to be the result of the Armor Spell! But still, Ian wasn’t completely sure. Yet rather than feel uncertain, the elf wizard went along with it and did his best to maintain his focus, gathering as much positive energy as he could against the transformed gremlin.

But in anger, a furious Gedeon lifted his hoof again and landed it on top of Ian. However just like before, all he felt was a force that he was unable to push down. It seemed impossible but he just knew that his pawn had to be using magic. So he figured if he kept using his hoof to try and thrust Ian down, the younger elf would eventually lose the motivation to keep any of his spells going.

Lifting his hoof up and down again and again, Gedeon attempted to break Ian’s concentration. With how large and intimidating he was, he figured he could do this all day. But the younger Lightfoot wasn’t sure he could himself.

On the floor of the lake, Ian was starting to lose his focus. All he wanted was his brother. His brother and nothing more. He wanted Barley to come and save him. The younger elf didn’t care if his brother didn’t have the magic gift or not. He didn’t care whether he was his father figure or not. He couldn’t do this alone anymore.

It seemed like Ian was about to drown into the lake for sure, and hippocampus Gedeon was all there for it. In fact, he was just about to make it happen! That was, until the shapeshifter felt a sudden, tiny bonk on his horse-like head. Shaking it rapidly, he raised his hooves up in the air, attempting to use them to feel for his head and rub the pain away. But it was hard to do that when his hands were currently curved and fingerless. Soon he felt another small hit on his head. After shaking it slowly, he looked up and noticed the source of the blows on his head. Ian gazed up and noticed it, too.

It was Barley. He was on a cliffed edge using his sword to pry rocks from the cavern ceiling, which he ultimately let fall and attack Gedeon. He wasn’t severing much, but he figured the more he pried the bigger the rocks would get, and the more they would easily come down as well.

“Barley!” Ian cried happily as he still lay flat on his invisible floor.

“Don’t worry, Ian! I got this!” the older elf cried as he cut out more rocks and sent them falling towards Gedeon.

The hippocampus was becoming angry with the number of rocks that were being plummeted towards him. If any more fell on him, he was sure to get a concussion. He needed to be alive and alert in order to protect his medallion. So Gedeon figured another huge splash of water would do the trick to keep both elf brothers away from his possession.

As the creature raised his hooves, Ian understood just what Gedeon was about to do. Fortunately, the younger elf realized he had the energy to stand up and run again. So he got up and bolted towards the rocky surface. He’d had enough water-walking for the moment. Once he reached the land, he turned to see Gedeon splashing his hooves into the water just as he was going to do, and Barley continuing to pry rocks from the cavern ceilings which he let fall onto Gedeon.

As another rock hit the hippocampus on the head, Ian spied him using his hoof to reach for the S.S. Medallion. That’s when he understood that Gedeon was about to call out the incantation and transform into another creature!

“Oh...uh, come on! Think! Uh...” the younger elf mumbled as he speedily paced around. He just had to stop the hippocampus from neighing the right words! But then he felt his foot step on something.

A rock. A decent sized rock at that. And a red one. Most likely one Barley had cut down.

In a quick moment, Ian remembered how hard it was for him and his brother to find rocks for their campfire back in the forest. He remembered how silly and frustrating it was for him to try and make more rocks by using the Stone Spell on loads of moss clumps to turn them into rocks, when all along he could’ve simply used the pebbles he and Barley had found and make them bigger using the Growth Spell.

With the opportunity of the Armor Spell and now this, Ian was beginning to believe that this whole battle was giving him second chances. But they were second chances he was willing to take! Because with this rock, he had a great idea.

Quickly aiming his staff at the rock, and putting in all the attentive focus he could, Ian called, “Magnora Gantuan!”

With a beam of magic, the rock began to grow bigger and bigger until it was as big as he wanted it to be.

Next he declared, “Aloft Elevar!” and lifted the large, heavy rock as high as he could, then shouted, “Accelior!” throwing it straight at hippocampus Gedeon. It hit the creature right in the stomach, and brought him immense pain. Then the large rock fell right into the lake. But with how low the water level was, only half of it managed to submerge.

This gave Ian another idea.

He turned to Barley, who was still prying away at rocks. As the older Lightfoot let more rocks fall towards Gedeon, the younger elf aimed his staff at them. Once more with focus and Heart’s Fire, he proclaimed, “Aloft Elevar!” and let the rocks float in the air above Gedeon. Miraculously, it seemed to him that he’d caught three of them at once!

Barley noticed this, and became confused by the magic aura. Turning to his brother, he shouted, “Ian, what are you doing?!”

“Keep cutting rocks! I have an idea!” the younger Lightfoot shouted back, maintaining his spell. Then with full concentration and sweat dripping down his face from the weight of the rocks, he declared, “Magnora Gantuan!”

Ian let the three rocks grow bigger and bigger. As big as he could make them and as big he could lift them up in the air. Once he let the rocks grow to a big enough size, he released both his Levitation Spell and his Growth Spell, and let the rocks fall towards the lake. They crashed and splashed all around hippocampus Gedeon, whose heavy landings he once again tried hard not to get hit by. But now he was surrounded!

“Ha-ha! Brilliant thinking, Sir Iandore!” Barley cried joyously.

“Thanks!” the younger elf shouted back, still sweating from the effort. “Now cut down some more! If we can get enough to block out the lake, we can trap him!”

“And keep him from making more clones!”

“Exactly!”

Barley, focused on the cavern ceiling again, whispered to his sword as he used it to cut at more rocks, “all right, Sir Slasher, time to trap a shapeshifter...”

He cut several as quickly as he could, then the older Lightfoot threw them down to Ian, who caught them with his Levitation Spell, then used his Growth Spell to grow them, until finally they were heavy enough for him to drop into the lake.

Soon the brothers had enough that almost the entire lake was filled to the brim with rocks! Which was a good thing for Ian as casting two spells at once several times was really beginning to wear him out to an extreme. But he was willing to levitate and grow rocks for as long as he could until his enemy was trapped. Then he and his brother could finally snatch the medallion from the shapeshifter’s neck without any more struggle.

Gedeon could very well see what the teenage elves were up to, and had very well enough of it. Just as the lake was a rock or two away from being blocked off, the hippocampus held up the S.S. Medallion with his hoof, and whinnied in an equine language, “Mutatio Viventium!”

With a huge swirling bubble, Gedeon transformed out of his current horse form into another. When the bubble disappeared, it revealed his centaur form. He landed on top of the rocks Ian and Barley had created to close up the lake, then galloped down from them until he reached the same level as Ian.

The younger Lightfoot felt close to depleted from working his magic, he swore he could almost faint. But instead, he fell forward, and landed with his hands and knees. He closed his eyes and panted heavily, then opened them and looked to the ground. His head felt heavy, like stacks of paper were piling up on it. But he didn’t feel completely out yet. He knew he could keep going. He just had to! But soon he saw Gedeon run straight past him, letting out a conceited horsey laugh.

“See ya, wizard boy!” he mocked.

Ian wanted to run after the shapeshifted gremlin like he did in the lake, but his body felt too weak to stand up at the moment. He needed time to rest first. But still, he thought to himself with shame, how could he rest at a time like this? How could he himself let all of this happen?

But suddenly, the younger elf heard a loud, barbaric war cry coming from above. He glanced up from the ground, turned to his side, and once again, he saw his brother—who’d rushed forward to the opposite edge of the clifftop with his arms and sword high in the air to save the day.

Eyeing the centaur, who was galloping away like lightning, the older elf stepped a few feet backward, then like the bold, crazy adventurer he was, he ran forward with another yell and jumped from the cliff!

Seeing this before him, Ian’s heart dropped.

“BARLEY!” he cried, now having the stamina to stand up. He knew just where his brother wanted to land, but wasn’t sure if the older Lightfoot would even make it. Not wanting to watch Barley fall to his supposed doom, Ian covered his eyes with his hands.

He kept them there until he heard a hard-hitting impact and a very annoyed, “hey! Why, you—GET OFFA ME!”

The younger Lightfoot shifted his fingers so he could see. And he saw it. His brother had managed to get onto centaur Gedeon’s back and was now riding on top of the shapeshifter!

“YEEEE-HAW!” Barley shouted.

“YEAH! Barley!” the younger elf cheered, releasing his hands completely from his face. “You show him!”

His brother had come to his rescue four times in under ten minutes. A part of Ian hated himself for that, but another part of him was grateful. From sending the signal to fighting off the clones with the geode to lifting and growing the rocks to right at this very moment, the younger Lightfoot was reminded that he wasn’t alone in this quest. But he also realized right then and there that despite their differences along the way, Barley did have his back, and always would. This was still and always their quest.

Not his own.

Not Barley’s.

This was the quest of the Lightfoot brothers.

And Gedeon couldn’t take that away from them.

They had gotten to where they needed to be because of each other. And now here they were—two against one—fighting for the medallion’s safety, and it seemed like they were just about to win!

Gedeon hadn’t thrown Barley off from his back yet, but it seemed like he was tempted to do it. Or was it that he was trying, but the older Lightfoot was just too heavy and strong for him? Ian couldn’t tell. All he wanted was for his brother to reach the medallion around the shapeshifter’s neck and remove it. From what it looked like, the older elf was so close!

On the centaur’s back, Barley used a hand to reach for the S.S. Medallion’s string, but Gedeon would reach his hands backwards to keep him from touching it. But it was getting difficult to do that, run, and try and catapult the larger elf off all at the same time.

“Hands off, you good-for-nothing twerp!” Gedeon cried.

Barley himself had no trouble staying on the centaur’s back. He’d had experience riding equines before, even stubborn ones. He just had to reach for the talisman somehow without the gremlin wizard distracting him.

He decided to try using his sword to get it off. It was sharp so there was no way Gedeon would want to reach behind and touch it. At least that’s what he hoped.

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Attitude? Well, then, face my good friend—the sword!” the older elf said defiantly.

He then dug his blade under the medallion’s string, between it and Gedeon’s skin. He made sure to do it quickly like ripping off a band-aid so the shapeshifter wouldn’t interfere with him getting it through.

“What the—” Gedeon let out.

But before he could finish his sentence, Barley used his sword to swiftly lift the medallion up from Gedeon’s neck, and over his head! He then jumped off from the centaur—knowing what was about to happen—and stuck a three point landing with the medallion still around his sword’s blade like vegetables on a skewer.

“NO!” Gedeon cried with outrage. Without the medallion’s magic around his neck, he magically turned back into his gremlin self. He could no longer run fast like a centaur because he was no longer a centaur. So as he returned to normal, he tripped forward and landed hard on the ground. Then he turned to his side and focused on his pawn’s older brother with furious eyes.

Barley, meanwhile, ran towards Ian with the medallion still wrapped around his sword. He decided to turn his sword upside down, and let the talisman fall right into the palm of his hand. Then holding its pendant tight, he stretched his arm backward and yelled, “IAN! CATCH!”

As the older Lightfoot threw the medallion towards him, the younger elf kept his eyes on it and nothing else. He imagined he was doing the Growth Spell just one more time, magnifying his attention upon it in order to catch it. As the medallion got closer, Ian felt himself right under it. Without needing to raise his staff and cast the Levitation Spell, he leapt into the air, and caught it!

Landing back on the ground, the younger Lightfoot felt his heart melt into a puddle. The pendant was finally in the palm of his hand once again, just as he hoped it would be. He and Barley had done it. They finally got the S.S. Medallion back!

Ian smiled wide and laughed with huge relief. “I GOT IT!” he cried excitedly, holding the medallion high into the air.

“HA-HA! Nice job, young mage!” Barley shouted back, strolling with delight towards his brother. He was just as happy and relieved as Ian was about their success. Their HUGE success. Their quest was finally complete. “Now, come on. We gotta get this medallion out of he—AARGH!”

All of a sudden, the older elf felt a strong unbearable force strangle him tightly around his neck, and with it, he began to choke. But neither he nor his brother could tell what was infecting him.

“Barley, are-are you okay?” Ian asked with concern.

But Barley, now having let his sword slip out of his grasp, could only let out, “EEEECH...AAAACH...”

Ian couldn’t understand why his brother was suddenly fighting for breath. Still, the younger elf began to worry greatly for him by the second.

“Barley, wha...wh-what’s wrong? Why are you—”

Just then, an Invisibility Spell dispersed before the two elf brothers, revealing a grotesque arm wrapped around the older Lightfoot’s neck.

Ian took a step backward and gasped in horror. He had gotten so excited about finally getting the medallion back that he instantly forgot about its biggest threat. And now that threat had personally become his brother’s as well.

“Surprise...” Gedeon jeered with an evil grin.

Perhaps their quest wasn’t over after all.

Chapter Text

◊ Chapter 32 ◊

Fire and Lightning

Gedeon had Barley in a chokehold. A chokehold the very strong older elf for some reason could not escape from on his own. It was way too powerful, even for him! The wicked gremlin also gripped his wizard staff in his opposite hand. He grinned evilly at the younger Lightfoot, who stood there with a face of fear as his enemy held hostage the person he cared about most. But his fear was also mixed with absolute fury.

“Let him go, Gedeon!” Ian pleaded in anger.

“Oh, I will...as soon as you give me that medallion,” Gedeon sneered as he used his staff to point towards the S.S. Medallion, whose pendant had taken up the younger elf’s entire palm.

But now holding the talisman close to his chest, Ian shouted, “NEVER!”

Gedeon let out a chuckle. “Never? Well, then...I guess I’ll just have to explode your brother’s head with some Arcane Lightning.”

Ian felt all the color begin to drain from his face, especially as he watched the gremlin lower the tip of the dark wooden staff closer to his brother.

“You wouldn’t dare,” the young wizard let out slowly. “You-you can’t!”

“Oh, I can, and I will,” Gedeon threatened. “Observe...”

Still clutching Barley tightly, with the older Lightfoot struggling, the conniving gremlin turned to face the cavern opening his wagon clone had entered through earlier.

Now aiming his staff at the rock formation that laid on top of it, Gedeon declared, “Voltar Thundasir!”

A long strand of sparkling, but dangerous lightning spewed from the gremlin’s staff, and made its way toward the rocks. As the lightning hit the red, cavernous rocks with a BANG, they all began to fall to the ground with impact. Soon the opening was completely caved in and blocked with rocks.

Ian gulped. Gedeon could master Arcane Lightning, just like he had. The wicked wizard was not joking around.

His demonstration done, Gedeon turned back to face the younger elf, and pointed the tip of his staff towards Barley’s head again.

“Well, there goes your safest way out of my cavernous lair...away from my spider, Taran...” he said malevolently. “So...what’s it gonna be, Ian? Your dear brother or the medallion? Your choice.”

Ian felt his breath shaking. This couldn’t be happening to him. The younger Lightfoot really didn’t want to put Barley in danger, and was firmly insistent to him before they’d even left for their quest that he should’ve stayed out of the way. But now here the older elf was, in danger, just as he feared!