Be My Sun
team johndave’s submission for HSO round 3! story and art by me.
this is the first real fic i have ever written and i will probably never do it again
Once upon a time, when nobility and peasants were plentiful and magicians and knights roamed the lands, there lived a young boy on top of a large rocky cliff overlooking the ocean. This boy did not live in a normal dwelling, however. Instead he resided at the top of a tall tower made of golden stone. It would have glittered magnificently in the sunlight, had there be any sun to shine. But above this cliff there were only clouds stretching over the vast ocean to the west and above the hilltops to the east. In this way the tower was the sun on that cliff, or at least the closest thing to the sun the boy had ever seen, for the boy had never in all his memory set foot farther than the top of the hill closest to the cliff. Venturing any farther was strictly forbidden.
For you see, the boy did not remain in that tower by choice. He was a prisoner, for no crime other than his own birth.
Many years ago in the distant kingdom of Breth, citizens across the land rejoiced at the marriage of their King to his beautiful new Queen. They were gracious, kind monarchs, and under their rule not even the lowliest peasant was left to suffer. There was but one problem in this matrimony: the Queen was unable to bear an heir. The King loved his Queen, yet to be without an heir meant the end of his lineage and the spread of political unrest. To solve this matter, the King sought council with his most trusted advisors.
“There is one way to solve this problem. Have another bear your heir, but tell the kingdom that he was borne by the Queen.”
“But how!” The King lamented, “I could never lay with another woman when I love the Queen so dearly.”
“Not a woman, but a Witch. I guarantee I can bear you a son. All I ask is your word he will become king, and that I, too, can live comfortably in your kingdom.”
And so it was that the Witch bore the King an heir. But on the night the Witch’s child was born, a miracle occurred in the castle. The Queen was found to be with child. The King and Queen would have a rightful heir of their own blood!
So joyous was the King that he forsook his promise with the Witch, declaring his will to make the Queen’s child the heir to his kingdom. Leaving her child with the King, the Witch fled the kingdom, but not before vowing to get revenge on King and Queen of Breth. The Witch’s child was raised in secret while the King and Queen waited the day of their true child’s birth.
Yet when that day came, it was not nearly as joyous as they had hoped. Though the day’s festivities had been plentiful, disaster struck while the child slept. In the deepest part of night, when all lay sleeping, the Witch snuck into the castle and stole the Heir from his bed. It was she who took him to the tower on the cliff and cursed him, ensuring he could never leave the place unless the Witch herself was slain.
As for what happened next, the King and Queen were grief-stricken, the Witch’s child was named successor to the throne, and for the thirteen years that followed, the true Heir remained bound to the tower on the cliff always wondering what it was that lay beyond the gloomy skies, or if anything lay beyond them at all.
And then one day, something happened that changed the Heir’s life forever.
For the first time in his thirteen years, a visitor appeared at the tower. The Heir first spotted him from his window, a hint of gold barely peeking over the hill closest to his tower. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him until the figure stood atop the hill completely, garbed in magnificent gold armor and a tunic and cape of crimson. The stranger approached the tower looking up towards the open window and calling out,
“Hark! Are there any beautiful maidens up there?”
The Heir, being the curious boy that he was, did not hesitate before popping his head out of the window and staring down at the visitor. Upon closer inspection he could see that this visitor appeared not only to be a knight, but also to be about his own age. He noticed too that the Knight wore strange black circles over his eyes.
“The only maidens here are the kind found in books and legends,” the Heir called down to the visitor, “though perhaps you could spare a moment to talk to the boy from this tower instead?”
The Knight shrugged his shoulders in response, looking—it seemed, as the Heir could not actually see his eyes—up at him, “If he’ll come down from his tower.”
The Heir wasted no time pushing open the heavy iron door at the bottom of the tower, eager to meet someone from beyond the hills.
“I’m John, the boy of this tower.” He took no shame in curiously observing the stranger from every angle, walking circles around him to feed his curiosity. “From where do you hail? I’ve only seen your type in stories.”
“Sir David.” The Knight responded as he found himself observed. He didn’t seem to mind the Heir’s enthusiasm and merely stood with a hand resting on the golden hilt of the sword strapped to his side. “Knight from the village Thyme, adventurer, and layer of sick beats.”
John, satisfied for the time being with his observation, finally stood in front of the Knight and flashed him a buck-toothed grin. “An adventurer? You mean you’ve traveled all over the world?”
“Yes, though I have never crossed the seas.” Sir David canted his head slightly to the side, like he might have been amused by John’s enthusiasm, though his mouth remained a straight line. “I follow rumors that lead me to quests. Slaying dragons, rescuing maidens, getting tons of sweet loot… I heard from a nearby village that there was a maiden trapped in this tower. That is why I came.”
“I’m afraid the only one trapped in this tower is myself.” John breathed out a small laugh in apology. He then reached up, fingers brushing lightly against the odd dark crystal covering the Knight’s eyes. “What is this you wear on your face? I’ve never heard of anything like this before.”
“Ah, these are an ancient artifact I received after proving my worthiness to a troll,” Sir David replied. “They protect my eyes from the sun.”
“The sun?” John gasped. “Then it really exists? I thought perhaps it was only a legend.”
“You jest. You mean to say you’ve never seen the sun?”
“In all my thirteen years the days have looked exactly like what you see today. Some days the rain falls and in winter snow blankets the hills… But the sky looks always as you can see now, covered with clouds as far as the eye can see.”
“You’ve never left this tower then?”
John pointed to the hill closest to the tower. “That hill is as far as I have ever been. As much as I wish to see the outside world my feet refuse to carry me any farther away.”
“A curse,” Sir David mumbled, but before he could ask any more John was tugging at his sleeve.
“Please, Sir David, won’t you tell me all that you have seen? I wish to know about the world. I beg of you!”
Sir David could not refuse such an earnest request.
Thus the two of them sat in John’s room at the top of the tower, John asking about things he’d read in his vast library of books (to which Sir David remarked about his poor taste) and Sir David answering in as much detail as he could muster. In return, Sir David inquired about how long John had lived in the tower (his entire life), who had raised him (he didn’t remember), and the curse that bound him to the tower (he knew nothing about it).
Two days passed in this manner before Sir David regrettably announced that he would be taking his leave. “I must continue my quests. But I promise you, I will return.”
“Make sure you have stories to tell,” was all that John replied as he watched the Knight disappear behind the hill.
—-
So it was that the Heir and the Knight became friends. As promised the Knight returned to visit him often, bringing both gifts (John’s favorite of which was a small rabbit doll) and stories of his adventures. One day, the two sat at the edge of the cliff with their feet dangling over the edge as Sir David spoke of his adventures. John listened eagerly and longingly, wishing he too could see the world beyond his gloomy clouds. Part way through one of Sir David’s stories, the Knight noticed John had gone sullen and quiet.
“What ails you?”
“I wish to leave this place. Always have I wondered what lay beyond these cliffs and seas and hills, but hearing your stories has truly made me long to leave. I want to see the world,” John stared fixedly at the line where the sky blurred into the sea, as if he hoped to see past the clouds and fog, “but more than anything, I long to see the sun.”
Sir David stared fixedly at him, “In truth while I was away I visited many villages in hopes of learning more about your story. By chance I learned the legend of a Witch deceived by a King. In order to get her revenge, she kidnapped the King’s first child and bound him to a golden tower. On the eve of each full moon, she returns to the tower to renew the curse. Most believe it is only legend, but meeting you I know it to be true.”
John turned his head slowly to look at Sir David as he continued his story, his eyes growing steadily wider. Never in his wildest dreams had he believed himself to be anyone of importance, nor had he thought to question his origin at all. However, hearing the story of a child bound to a golden tower he knew it could not be anyone else.
“If I defeat the Witch certainly you will be free.”
“Sir David…” John found himself searching for words to express his gratitude, but instead only words of doubt escaped his lips. “What if the curse can never truly be broken?”
“Then I’ll remain with you as long as you cannot leave,” Sir David placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder. “And I will be your sun.”
—-
On the eve of the full moon the Witch returned under cover of night to cast her spell, but before she could begin the incantation Sir David appeared from his hiding place behind the tower. “Surrender, foul Witch! Your evil deeds end here.”
“Who dares stand against the mighty Batterwitch?!” she hissed, raising her staff above her head.
“Sir David, Knight of Thyme,” he answered. Before the Witch could reply, Sir David was already making his move. He circled behind the Batterwitch and swung his blade, metal grazing the Witch’s side as she turned to counter. From her staff shone a large ball of light and the Knight dove just in time to avoid being struck with a bolt of magic. The battle went on like this for some time, both parties seemingly matched as each parry and magic blast continued. Finally, no longer content with watching from his window, John snuck out of the tower to silently cheer Sir David on.
Quiet though he might have been, the opening of the tower door was enough to draw the Batterwitch’s attention. Her lips twisted up in an evil smirk and she turned her wand towards John and shrieked, “The Heir of Breth will die!”
John’s body froze as he saw a red flash from the Witch’s wand. Although he was sure this would be the end of him, he saw another flash of red, this one heading towards the Witch. While she had been distracted attacking John, Sir David took the chance to strike, plunging his sword into the Witch’s heart. A terrible shriek resounded throughout the night and in a wisp of thick black smoke, the Batterwitch dissolved into the air.
“Sir David! You did it!” John cried in relief. However, the Knight did not respond. Sir David staggered backwards, sword clattering on the rock as it slipped from his fingertips. “Sir David?!”
John ran to Sir David’s side as he fell back onto the ground, crying out at the side of blood pouring from a wound in the Knight’s chest. When Sir David had taken the chance to strike, he also blocked the Witch’s spell with his own body. The Heir knelt down at Sir David’s side, gently cradling his body in his arms, “Sir David, no…”
“I’m sorry…” The Knight wheezed out, struggling to find the breath to speak. He reached up with a shaky hand and pulled his glasses from his face so that he could see John clearly.
“No… Please… You mustn’t die.” John’s vision became hazy with tears and he quickly blinked them away. “You remember, don’t you? We were going to see the sun…”
“It’s all right.” Sir David willed his eyes to stay on John’s even as his breathing slowed and his limbs became too heavy to move. “I can see it.”
And finally when he could resist no longer, the Knight allowed his eyes to close and he was still. It was then, in one last act of desperation, that John did the only thing he could think to do.
The Heir kissed the Knight, recalling a legend of waking a princess with a kiss. With the touch of their lips the Heir breathed life into the Knight, though not for the reason that John had thought. Another legend existed that he did not know. It was said that a kiss from a prince could save the one whom the prince truly loved. When John pulled away, Sir David opened his eyes with renewed strength and reached down to find that his wound was healed.
“Sir David!”
“I’m alive?”
“I hope so.” John breathed out a laugh. “Otherwise you’ve become a sort of demon.”
“I don’t think I would mind.”
For the first time since meeting, they laughed together.
—-
The Knight and Heir took a day of reprieve before setting out on their journey. John had packed a small satchel of his belongings—clothes, his rabbit doll, and his favorite book about a sea hardy pirate with nothing to lose—and strapped a wooden mallet onto his back. He was otherwise prepared to leave all traces off the golden tower behind. As they reached the top of the hill John stopped, looking anxiously at Sir David who had already started his descent on the other side.
“What troubles you?”
“If I take one more step, this will be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.”
“Then you will truly be an adventurer.” Sir David extended his hand, “Each step is one closer to the sunlight.”
They took the first step together.
