In Which Saeed Comes To The Brink Of Forever

Saeed travelled alone across the Turnaround Bridge, through the rainbow mist, on to destinations unknown. The one thing he was reasonably clear on was that he was travelling on toward his final destination, a reconciliation with his mother, a chance to apologise for the wrong that he had done.

Obtaining the price the Keeper of the Way had demanded, the seal of Kalico, master of the Patchwork Market at Bridgetown, had been hard enough. Saeed had seen many things in the execution of his tasks, experiences he was storing away carefully within his head in preparation for the time when he would once again see his mother.

He hoped that this time would now be close at hand for, overall, Saeed felt that his mind was becoming very full indeed. If much more happened to him on the road there was a chance that he might forget things that had happened to him and that would not be a good thing at all.

The way across the Turnaround Bridge was long, the bridge itself was narrow at the start. As it continued out through the strange coloured mists that surrounded him the bridge changed in shape, until it was clear that this way was not a single bridge but, apparently, many bridges strung together through a vast, indistinct void.

The bridge continued on for such a distance that Saeed began to feel a little concerned. There was no indication whether the other side of the bridge was close at hand, or whether he'd even got halfway across. There was just the narrow path through nothingness, no end in sight.

Eventually the bridge broadened, a ramp carried Saeed up onto a wide suspension bridge. He still had not reached the opposite side and he began to detect other people wandering through the mist.

The people were dressed in a variety of outfits. Some Saeed recognised, some he did not. All were walking parallel to Saeed, across the bridge and on to the other side. Saeed did not see one person attempting to cross the other way.

Before long the number of people had grown quite large. Saeed could not identify himself as a lone traveller, instead finding himself enfolded within a shuffling throng, all walking in one direction, all looking about at their fellow travellers in some confusion.

"I was not expecting to meet so many people on this path," Saeed said to the closest person to him, an old man, a gnome sat upon his shoulders.

"Many seek Luminis," the man replied. "Few gain entrance."

"I know you will think this to be a strange admission," Saeed said. "But I did not know this path lead to a place called Luminis. All I know is that it is a place I must be."

The older man smiled.

"That is probably not uncommon," he said. "I am just acting as a guide for my friend here," he indicated the gnome. "He has lost his purpose. He must find a new one or return to the source."

"I think it's been time enough for Splinterflame," the gnome said cheerily. "I imagine that it is my time to return whence I came, beyond the Central City, into the heart of creation itself."

"I'm afraid I am not very educated," Saeed said. "I do not really follow what it is you are saying."

"Education does not matter," the older man said. "All that matters is what the gatekeepers decide."

"I see," Saeed said. "Well, I hope that they decide in my favour."

"All do," the man said. "There's really no way to tell until you get to the walls."

"Look!" came a cry from the front of the crowd. "There it is!"

The crowd instantly hushed, all conversation dying upon every tongue. Every one looked up and out towards the distant horizon, still wreathed in the indistinct lightly-hued mists.

Then, the mists broke, far in the sky the black shapes of tall spires became visible, the colour overhead went from a varied patchwork of different shades to a clear and brilliant blue. The heat of a bright sun washed over the crowd.

A few steps further on and tall walls of large dark brick became visible, a few steps further again and the party crossed the far side of the bridge, stepping from a wooden floor to a white brick path winding through an expansive green valley towards an enormous structure built into the dark wall up ahead. The spires that had been the first visible sign of Luminis were the only part of the enormous city beyond the dark walls that could be seen from the path.

A ramshackle settlement had been erected at the foot of the wall. None of the structures that made up this encampment looked permanent or particularly safe for the inhabitants. There were a few proper tents and permanent caravans but alongside this were poorly built shacks constructed out of loosely piled rocks or pieces of discarded wood.

As the crowd passed by, walking on towards the gigantic archway at the foot of the enormous gatehouse of Luminis Saeed looked about himself trying to assess what kinds of people lived in the settlement at the base of the walls. There were many people from the bridge crowding in all about him but Saeed caught glimpses of goblin traders and many people who looked like the beggars from the streets of Afsana where he had grown up.

As the archway loomed closer Saeed began to worry that he had not questioned where the Turnaround Bridge would send him, just that it would bring him closer to his mother. Of course, his mother had been taken by death. Was this a place of the dead?

Luminis did not look like any paradise that Saeed had ever imagined, and if it was, who were all those dwelling in the shanty town? Were they the sinful? Was that the judgement that was to follow? Would Saeed's own guilt at his thievery prevent him from gaining access to this celestial city?

Saeed found it hard to believe that he was standing before the entrance to paradise. Much aside from anything else why would the righteous have to walk past the wicked to cross the threshold to their reward? If they saw others suffering and did nothing then how righteous were they anyway?

Much apart from these challenging concepts Saeed could feel sun on his face, a slight breeze blowing in from the mountains to his left. He did not feel dead, he did not remember dying, so this could not be a land for the dead or a place of ultimate judgement.

Maybe Saeed was wrong but he believed that whatever Luminis was, it wasn't a land of the dead. He would have an opportunity to find out shortly, because he was about to pass through the arch into the gatehouse and out of the sun-filled valley.

On the other side of the arch was a huge courtyard with a gigantic polished marble floor. It reminded Saeed of the Caliph's Palace at Afsana but colder, the structure had a feeling of officiousness that he associated with the Patchwork Market more than any part of his home city.

All around the courtyard were a number of narrow doorways, standing at each doorway was a strangely dressed usher in a little round hat, a blue jacket, a white shirt and straight blue trousers. Saeed had never seen such an outfit before. The closest thing he had seen was Joshua's clothing but that had been more dark and serious. The bright blue and white of these uniforms made the ushers look a little like clowns.

Even so they motioned for members of the throng to come forward and step through the doorways, and people were going. As the crowd kept moving forward and out to the side so Saeed drifted closer to a doorway. As he reached the threshold the usher looked Saeed in the eye and said.

"Go along until you reach an open doorway, then go right inside, first one you see."

The usher reached out a white-gloved hand and guided Saeed into the passageway before he had time to object or ask any questions.

For the first time on his journey Saeed began to feel afraid. He had embarked upon his journey without fear, he now realised, because he had thought of his eventual goal as being fairly straightforward and obvious. He had seen his mother die, the angel of death had told him where to begin his journey, that step had lead to the next, had lead to the next, had lead... here.

This strange, long, cool, dark stone corridor, like so many he had already seen, with closed doors ranged against the right hand wall. In the distance he could make out the triangle of yellow light demarcating the first open door upon the route.

There were people already gathering behind him. Saeed stepped forward before he had the time to consider whether he wanted to keep walking forward or not. It occurred to him that the time to turn away had already happened at a time when he would never have considered it. He hadn't been allowed to back away for some time now.

Given no choice, his stomach yawning with a hollow dread he could not name, Saeed walked along the corridor towards the square of light. He reached the door quickly and peered over the threshold. Sat inside the room beyond the door was a young woman dressed like some of the more monied residents of the Patchwork Market, in a plain but elegant dress that came down towards the mid point of her calves, her feet wrapped in pointy soft leather boots.

The young woman's fair hair was gathered in a precise knot on the crown of her skull. She wore jewelled earrings and a single ring on her left hand. She did not appear to be wearing make up.

"Saeed Ibn Abihi?" the young woman asked. "Please, come in, sit down."

The woman motioned to a chair opposite her position. In between them, slightly off to one side was a tea set that reminded Saeed of Joshua's house.

Saeed stepped inside and sat down. The woman went over and gently closed the door, then she returned to her seat.

"Really, there's no need to look so frightened. This is just a little chat about why you've come to Luminis. If I decide entering the city would be in your best interests then there won't be a problem."

"I must say," Saeed said. "I did not really know that I was coming to Luminis. I did not even know such a place existed. I merely knew that this was a step upon my journey to be reunited with my mother."

"You believe your mother is here?" The woman asked. She picked up the tea pot. "Tea?"

"No, thank you," Saeed said. "I really don't know if my mother is here, the Keeper of the Turnaround Bridge took a price from me and when I crossed the bridge this is where I found myself."

"Have some tea, dear," the woman said. "It will relax you. You look like you need to relax."

She poured Saeed a cup of tea, then she picked up her own cup and sipped from it.

"So your mother might not be in Luminis?" the woman said.

"I think the Turnaround Bridge uses magic to determine the destination of the traveller," Saeed said. "I don't think it would have sent me here if I didn't need to be here."

"Ah but it's old magic," the woman said. "Deep magic. This whole place is the product of some of the oldest and deepest magic that exists. I think it is without doubt that you do need to enter the city. The question then becomes whether you should enter now, today."

"I am really just looking to apologise for a lie I told to my mother," Saeed said. "That is all I want in the world."

"And if you get all that you want in the world," the woman said. "What then?"

"I... don't know," Saeed said. As he sat, sipping at the tea he didn't want, considering questions he hadn't wanted to consider a great sadness reawakened in Saeed. He had diverted the pain, looking ahead to his goal but the woman's questions had brought to him a great realisation. When Saeed met his mother again it would be an apology and a farewell. Things would never be as they once had been.

"Then maybe you need to know," the woman said. "This is a place people come to learn, Saeed. A place they come to become what they must be to do the things they must do. Nobody has come here to deliver an apology. I am afraid I cannot approve your entry into the city. It has been lovely to talk with you though. When you're ready go through the door in the back corner."

She indicated a door visible over her left shoulder before sipping, silently, at her tea. She did not speak again.

Saeed didn't know what to do or say. Should he argue back? The woman's logic did not appear sound, what if his mother was in Luminis? What if this was the end of Saeed's journey and he was being turned away?

On the other hand, what if she was right? What if this was yet another step along the road, a road that may not include a stop in Luminis? The only problem with that was the thought of what to do next. Saeed did not know another way onwards.

"So," he said carefully, "when it is my time to enter Luminis I should come back to this place?"

"There are many ways to enter Luminis," the woman said. "Today this was the route chosen for you."

"Chosen by whom?" Saeed asked.

"By the source, the powers of the weave, the aspect of fate," the woman said. "That is how the Hall of Entrance works."

"Well," Saeed said, standing up. "Thank you for your time. I am sorry that my case failed to meet your expectation for entry to the city."

"There will be other days," the woman said. "You must understand that it is nothing personal."

"I do," Saeed said. "Thank you."

Saeed moved around the table with the tea set and out through the door at the back. The door lead into a corridor that stretched on for a long while before making a couple of sharp left turns and eventually depositing Saeed back outside the walls of Luminis to the rear of the shanty town.

"A thief I am," Saeed muttered to himself, looking about the shacks and mud paths that defined the shanty town. "So like a thief I must enter this city."

Saeed did not know if the young woman in the Hall of Entrance had intended to imply that Saeed could just walk outside and try to gain entrance to the city of Luminis by other means but this was what he had taken from her explanations. Saeed walked through the shanty town, instantly feeling more comfortable about his surroundings.

Looking about himself Saeed determined that, despite the modesty of the encampment, this was not as miserable a place as such dwellings tended to be. The wood and metal of the shack construction was usually quite clean, free from evidence of erosion by the elements. The doors to many of the shacks stood open and homey little spaces were visible within. These accomodations were sparse but not spartan.

Some residents had book shelves, others shrines, others displayed works of art or musical instruments. This did not appear to be a place of desperation, merely a stopping point, something like a travelling market or a festival encampment.

The people of the shanty town moved back and forth around Saeed, about their business. Eavesdropping upon their conversations Saeed determined that, rather than discussing hunger, poverty or hardship, their minds were occupied with matters of philosophy, aesthetics and mysticism.

This was a place more curious than the enigmatic city within the mighty walls beyond. A hastily erected community of intellectuals that sat below the mighty dark stone walls of Luminis. Presumably these were others who had come through the Hall of Entrance and been turned away.

Saeed was perplexed. He was a thief, he was reasonably confident that he could find an opportunity to steal into Luminis if he looked hard enough. These men and women were scholars, what was the purpose of their encampment? The young woman had told Saeed that all who were ready could enter Luminis via the Hall of Entrance. If you were not ready, according to the administrators, you had to seek another way in. Sitting in shacks discussing the nature of reality did not appear to be in anyone's best interests.

Before he could think further upon this matter the opportunity he had searched for presented itself. Saeed had learned long ago how to spot an opportunity. He had also learned that if you didn't take an opportunity as it came up the door could often close.

He could see a small fringe of the encampment was packing itself up. A man in uniform was shouting orders to a number of other men in uniform, of various shapes and sizes. They were packing up their dwellings and pulling sacks of clothes and supplies onto their back.

"The prince is waiting, he can't wait forever," the man was shouting. "His advisors have worked long and hard to lift the blockade and now he must enter the city with his guard protecting him. Hurry! Hurry!"

The men in uniform were too busy to pay much attention to Saeed as he moved through their encampment. They failed to question him when he located a trunk filled with parts of the guards' uniforms. No one cared when Saeed donned a uniform and then, dressed in black breeches and tunic, a fine mail tabard and a pointy metal helmet, began to assist in the packing of the encampment.

Before long pallets were loaded and packs were worn upon the soldier's backs. Saeed himself was carrying a heavy pack containing some kind of ground meal. The guards formed a column and marched towards the entrance hall, Saeed in their midst.

The process of taking the opportunity had occupied all of Saeed's mind for the time until the column of soldiers he had joined began their march into the city of Luminis. As the army marched to the right of the entrance hall and through a large opening that had not been there a few hours before Saeed had an opportunity for his own doubts and fears to catch up with him.

Before they quite could he spent some time scanning the rest of the shanty town for signs of others trying to breach the gap in the walls of Luminis. A few intellectual types stood by, watching the prince's guard enter the city, but no one seemed ready to cheat the system the way that Saeed was.

Of course, if anyone was cheating exactly the way that Saeed was Saeed would probably not know about it, that was the core of his plan. He had one final opportunity to wonder whether what he was now doing was for the best or not. He was a thief, his existence revolved around obtaining his desires by stealth, not always entirely in sympathy with the wishes of others.

Was this really how he should continue his life? What was he to do otherwise? At the moment his conscience was clear because his skills were in the service of a loftier goal, and his own personal code meant that, should he be asked, he could not help but be honest. As the young woman had said to him in the Hall of Entrance: what would come after?

Maybe going into Luminis was a mistake, he had been refused entry already. All he knew was that he had no where else to go and nothing else to do right now, so this was what would have to be. Maybe, he considered as he marched on through the breach to enter Luminis, he would have to think about some ways to change that.

This he did, among many other things that happened to him within the walls of Luminis, but all those are stories for another time.

Sir Cobb and the Vampire

In a very short time the vampire had wrestled Frederick to the floor.

Another day, Sir Cobb thought to himself, another dark forest.

The one thing having a blade enchanted to strike viciously at evil had done for Frederick was give him some weight as a real knight. Not that Frederick had ever doubted that he was a real knight. Although he had begun to suspect that the Home Knighthoode Starter Kit had not been of the advertised quality.

Whilst Frederick was able to easily identify black hearted evil, he was a sucker for less obvious forms of scam. When he had responded to the advertisement he had not questioned it.  He trusted material printed in the corner of a general proclamation from the Merchant's Guild of Laventine. None of the signs that may have dissuaded the cautious consumer had rung any of Frederick's alarm bells. Not even the 'low low price' of three groats for all the equipment the starter knight would ever need.

To be fair to him Frederick had come a long way since viewing that particular sales promotion. He had slept in cave mouths, meadows, stables and inns. He had paid a field bard to compose a ballad about him, he had seen the mean streets of Vermoniam. In the three weeks since he had left his home Frederick felt that he had really lived.

He had certainly gained more minor injuries at one time than he had ever enjoyed as a cooper's apprentice. This did surprise him because making wooden barrels could be a dangerous business. Particularly sp when you were applying the hoops.

Life on the road was, it turned out, far more complex than being a cooper. The sheer variety of injuries one could sustain was a dizzying notion if you just devoted some thought to the matter.

Right now Frederick had a nailless left big toe, scrapes on both his knees, bruising to his left buttock. Not to mention the remains of a poison ivy rash on his stomach. Also one possible broken rib, defence wounds on his left arm and a cut over his right eye.

The bread and butter of his new career amounted to menial work. One innkeeper had him chasing giant rats out of an inn basement. Another saw him trying his hand, briefly, at featherweight cage fighting. He wondered that he had not entertained second thoughts about his career choice. The remuneration from both activities had earned him about the right amount of money to eat quite poorly. By all reasonable standards he should be fed up and ready for the comforts of home.

Instead of which he was having the time of his life.

After thinking on the matter long and hard he had come to certain conclusions. One was that he had underestimated many things about life. For example, the difficulty of making one's way as a knight-errant. Or, for that matter, the amount of rubbish work your typical knight had to undertake on a daily basis. Thankfully he had also underestimated his own resolve, character and determination.

Frederick had, within the bounds of modest decency, always had a lot of time for himself, generally speaking. To find that he could face poverty, physical abuse and loneliness with a smile on his face had done wonders for his self-image. It had not occurred to him that another view of his current situation was that he was an idiot. Further, an idiot who should go home before he got himself seriously injured.

Because of his growing confidence, Frederick had agreed to take on something a little bigger. . In exchange for a bed at the coaching inn of Kuppsberg and the promise of a modest bag of silver he was to bring back the head of a vampire. The wicked creature had been terrorising the flocks and herds of the town's Fieldworker's Guild. The town mayor had supplied him with a sack for the purposes of head storage. Frederick had the sack looped through his belt for safe keeping.

The vampire's lair was somewhere nearby in the Forest of Grymm. The enormous wood's tracks and paths cross the whole of the Faerie Realm. Frederick's mission was to enter the forest, locate the lair and slay the fell beast. He had undertaken to do so before it could feed once more upon the blood of innocent cows and sheep.

It should be pointed out at this stage that this was not the widow's peak and opera cape variety of vampire. Most of these are sorcerers who have traded common decency for unholy power. This was, rather, an aggressive and sizeable variety of bat. Possibly the creature might be suffused with some minor natural magic. The type of vampire regarded more as a dangerous variety of vermin.

The giant rat job had paid for a slightly less uncomfortable stay in Vermoniam. Frederick was carving out a niche in the pest extermination arena. This wasn't a career direction that Frederick was entirely happy with. Were it not for the fact that a cow-eating vampire qualified as a monster he might have thought twice about agreeing to the gig.

Even so, a giant grumpy flying rat was not the same thing as a troll, an ogre or even a dragon. Not that anyone had seen a live dragon for many years, they were commonly thought to be extinct.

Walking among the trees on a reasonably warm spring afternoon was almost a pleasant way to spend your time. This was true even if you were on the look out for vampire droppings. Ironically it was this moment of calm that caused Frederick to question his life choices.

He did not believe himself to be an utter fool. He was not expecting to have an arch-enemy, a maiden fair, or a fiery steed less than a month after beginning his adventures. He did, however, expect to feel less like an aimless nobody. He had done a good deal of wandering about and poking his magic sword into things that other people had too much sense to. He had thought this would naturally lead on to bigger and better things.

That way of looking at his daily duties did rather tarnish the image of the knight-errant. All you heard in the songs was the glory of competition and the kudos of great deeds. You didn't really think much about that time that Sir whats-his-name spent the day up to his knees in swamp water. Or his grand adventure looking for the rogue lizard-man that had started raiding the local chicken barn. Days like that didn't make for great song lyrics.

Frederick thought about taking twenty minutes to stop for lunch. Then he realised that he didn't have any lunch because he hadn't been able to afford any. He decided, instead, to have a little sit down. While he was sitting he considered that he might take the opportunity to spend a few minutes crying. In that moment disappointment and loneliness overwhelmed him. He felt the corners of his eyes begin to sting.

Before a single tear had rolled over his cheeks, however, a voice said:

"Giving up the hunt so soon, young sir?"

Frederick hoped for a whisper of excitement at the prospect of being accosted by a stranger. Particularly as this encounter occurred whilst hunting for vampires in the Forest of Grymm. There was no whisper. Frederick considered that this stranger could turn out to be of help. He could also try to kill or steal from him. Or the stranger could be, and this was by far the most likely,of no use to him whatsoever.

Frederick looked up to see a small boy dressed in green leaning against a tree nearby. The boy had bright red hair sticking up at random angles all over his head. He wore a light green tunic, darker green breeches and no shoes. The boy's pointed ears gave a hint that he was some form of sprite, a pixie perhaps, or a brownie. He didn't look grand enough to be a full blown elf. If the ears were the hint the wings on his back were the full blown announcement that this was a lower order nature elemental.

Sprites were well known as having deep knowledge of the weave of destiny. For this reason it was no surprise that the little creature knew who Frederick was and what he was doing. Sprites rarely bothered normal folk, though, so the fact he was talking to Frederick at all had to mean something.

"Not giving up, just having a sit and a think," Frederick said.

"You think like that too much," the sprite replied. "And you'll die of a broken heart before you solve any of your problems."

"Oh, it's not so bad," Frederick said. "It's just... well, I'm a knight-errant in my heart. I have a magic sword that I won for a deed of great daring. I've spent the last fortnight sleeping in doorways and under rocks, now I'm out killing a vampire. It's not all that I could have hoped for when I set out."

"So, what?" the sprite said, the little creature lifted off its feet and flitted over to Frederick on its gossamer wings. "You want to give up and go home?"

"Not really," Frederick said. "I just wish I knew how many vampires, lizard men and bog-fiends I'd have to kill before I get a crack at something more... more..."

"Fatal?" the sprite supplied unhelpfully.

"I want an opportunity to do something that will make me feel like a brave knight," Frederick said. "I didn't know that I would have to create one. I thought... I don't know what I thought."

"You thought you'd find one, lying around on the floor, in need of a good home," the sprite said. "It's a common story among your type."

"My type?" Frederick asked, he believed he was beginning to feel irritated. That must mean the sprite was quite irritating, because Frederick didn't get irritated easily.

"Young men who want to be famous knights," the sprite said. "Oh, did you think you were the first? I've seen dozens like you. I may have a dewy fresh complexion but I'll have you know I was about when the survivors fled from the ruins of Afsana. Those were some dark days, I can tell you. The ones in between haven't been much brighter. Even so there has never been a time, no matter how dark, when ambition resolved into glory without pain and effort."

"I know I'll have to work for my ambitions," Frederick said. "I just thought, well, there are hundreds of people who need some help, it can't be that hard to find them, can it?"

"That's the strange thing about people," the sprite shrugged. "They are perversely choosy about who they will take help from. If you're not already a hero then they have a tendency to be grumpy if you go around saving them from great peril. You have to earn a reputation, one cow murdering vampire at a time."

"I suppose you're right," Frederick said. He wasn't sure that the sprite was correct about the whole thing. Frederick could not believe that people were so strange as to only want certain people to help them when they were in trouble. The thing about making a reputation out of jobs well done, that definitely made some sense. "I had better be about finding that vampire then," Frederick said. "Good day."

"Wait, kid," the sprite said as Frederick turned to leave. Frederick turned back to him. "You think I make a habit of seeking out gawky hopefuls in forests so that I can hand out pithy advice? Sorry, but this is my working time, not my leisure time."

"You want me to pay you?" Frederick asked, puzzled.

"No, dummy," the sprite said. "I've got a delivery for you. If you want it."

The sprite reached up into the air and plucked something out of nowhere. He held out a gold ring, criss-crossed with intricate engravings, four small jewels were inset around the band.

"What is it?" Frederick asked.

"It's a ring of destiny," the sprite replied. "Look, kid, between you and me, there's some folk, um, upstairs, that have got their eye on you. They believe you're cut out for, well, something important. You'll get there without the ring but this here speeds up the process a little. Slip it on your finger and your life will get a lot more interesting."

Frederick was the kind of person who always fell for a slick sales pitch, an advertiser's dream. He was not, however, a complete idiot when it came to sprite magic. There was a great deal to read between the lines of the sprite's last statement. So much that you could make at least two more volumes of material out of subtext alone.

"I can do without it?" Frederick said. "So isn't that ring sort of, cheating?"

"Destiny's an odd duck," the sprite said. "It takes a liking to some people but that doesn't form any sort of guarantee. In the great weave there come up opportunities for deeds of great import. Destiny has its chosen for those tasks, Destiny knows that one can fail, another will come along. The ring was designed to ensure that those who could, would. It's not essential, but I would definitely call it recommended."

"Recommended by whom?"

"Aha! That's why destiny likes you," the sprite said. "You can be plenty sharp when the fancy takes hold."

The sprite continued to hold forth the ring of destiny, Frederick continued to hesitate.

"Look," the sprite said. "I'll be straight with you. All this comes down to a choice. Either you definitely want to fulfil the potential that destiny has marked out for you, or you may as well give up and go home. It doesn't matter if you can make it without, if you don't take the help then you will only find yourself asking one question in the end."

"Which is?"

"Did I truthfully want to take this path?" the sprite said. "It's that simple, kid. Right now, you get to decide. Step up or go home. What's it to be?"

Frederick had wanted to be a knight as long as he had known what a knight was. Looking at the sparkling gems, twinkling from the golden band of the ring of destiny Frederick understood. It didn't matter if he was battling an ogre or ridding an inn of outsize rodents. He could accomplish either action in a manner befitting a knight. A knight wasn't defined by what they achieved, they were defined by who they were.

"The ring of destiny changes nothing about a person," the sprite said, as if it could hear Frederick's thoughts. "It just gives a person more opportunities to show the world what's inside."

Frederick reached out and took the ring from the sprite. He slipped it on the ring finger of his right hand.

"Attaboy champ," the sprite said. "We're all rooting for you upstairs. Now, it's time for you to step up."

Frederick felt a tingle run through him. It was only a small thrill but it ran bone deep. When he looked away from his new accessory the sprite had gone.

Frederick took a moment and looked around at the woods. Nothing was substantially different to the way it had been before. Frederick was still hungry, still no closer to finding the vampire, still not sure how to proceed.

The problem was that the hunting ground for a single vampire was so big, and full of hidden corners. The vampire's lair could go undiscovered for years. How was he supposed to find it in a single day?

Of course, he could wait for sundown. Even minor league vampires received the strength of ten men after sunset, they were uncommonly tough and fast. Frederick believed that the moon sword would take care of the toughness issue. The only hope of besting the thing in single combat would be to face it before nightfall.

The problem appeared insoluble. It would be a hard enough job for an army to find the vampire's lair, let alone one knight alone. If only, he thought, there were two, or even three of me, that might give me a chance.

There was another tingle from the Ring of Destiny. A strange warm feeling came from Frederick's right hand ring finger and spread upwards into his body. The feeling filled up his entire body from head to toe in an instant. Frederick began to feel very big, all of a sudden... no, not big, full, like he had eaten three roast dinners and pudding besides.

The feeling of fullness grew and grew until it reached a point where Frederick though he might burst apart, and then he did. There was a popping, tearing noise and Frederick found himself face to face with... Frederick.

Frederick and Frederick looked at each other amazed. Before they could speak the tingling started again. It rise up faster this time. The expression upon both Frederick's faces turned from astonishment to alarm. The pressure built a second time and pop, tear, four Fredericks now stood in a circle.

The process repeated five more times. Until there were over one hundred Fredericks assembled in the Forest clearing. Once they had all worked out that it wasn't going to happen again most of the Fredericks looked about as if searching for something. Eventually all eyes settled on the original Frederick.

A silence descended.

Frederick the first looked about into the sea of faces that looked identical to his own. He looked at the identical grubby clothing, the identical worn boots. There were differences between the duplicate Fredericks and Frederick the first. None of the copies had a moon sword at their hip, none of them had a ring of destiny on their right hand.

Frederick the first realised that all the copies were waiting for him to say something.

"Um, find the vampire," he suggested, an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

One hundred and twenty seven Fredericks split up and vanished into the forest. The original Frederick hoped they were all searching for the vampire's lair.

"This is most odd," Frederick muttered to himself. He picked a direction and followed his doppelgangers to join in the search himself.

Even with a small army of Fredericks it took the better part of the day to locate the little cave hollow where the vampire had hidden. Frederick could not tell which of his copies had found it, he didn't even know how he would tell them apart. All he knew was that one minute he was looking up at a rock and wondering if it was worth climbing it. He wanted to see if there was entrance to a cave system on the top. The next minute he felt an odd giddyness.

He reached out to clutch at the rock for support but everything blurred and rushed away from him. He felt that he was, at one and the same time, standing still and speeding through the trees. He found himself flying faster than he could ever have thought possible.

Then there was a feeling of being thin, not slim but flat, like a sheet of parchment being shuffled into a sheaf. There was a moment of that tingling fullness again. Then he was in a dark cave listening to the wet snuffle of a large, smelly beast as it slumbered.

The moon sword began to sing. It always sang to him, a low, flat tone, when there was evil nearby. Frederick was not sure if any one else could hear the note, nobody ever acknowledged it anyway. When Frederick had been in Vermoniam the sword had seemed to sense evil at every other street corner. Nobody had ever picked him up on it.

Not wanting to worry about it now he drew the sword and stepped forward into the cave. The sword glowed with a soft white light,  mirroring the light of the moon. The white light revealed the walls of the vampire's cave. The moonlight cast jagged shadows making the cave appear like something from a nightmare. The vampire hung by its feet in the rear of the hollow, enormous leathery wings folded around its bulging furry body.

As Frederick had expected it was the monstrous kind of giant-bat vampire. The wafting smell of sour blood that washed over Frederick when it exhaled, reminded Frederick to act with caution.

Frederick wasn't squeamish, and he wasn't afraid to kill the vampire. Despite this he still found himself needing to psyche himself up to the task. He forced his arm to draw back, preparing to strike at the beast.

He didn't know whether he needed to behead the vampire or to stab it in the heart. He knew all the stories, of course, but they tended to be about sorcerous vampires. It was well known that sorcerers were hard to kill. There were always rules regarding the successful accomplishment of the task. These rules were always secret.

Minor vampires were tough, but did you have to spear their heart or behead them, or burn them? Would anything else heal in the moonlight? Frederick didn't know. This quest was turning out to be quite the eye-opener, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

There was nothing he could do about it now. He decided that he would try and stab through the heart. He didn't have confidence that his short sword would be up to the job of a single stroke beheading.

Setting his jaw and planting his feet on the ground Frederick drew back his right arm. Then he thrust it forward toward the vampire's body. He was aiming for a spot about halfway along the vampire's torso where he believed the heart would be.

Not only was the vampire's hide tough but the leathery wings wrapped around it weren't easy to penetrate either. The sword went through one and the vampire woke up in an instant. It tried to separate its wings and pulled Frederick's sword off course. It missed the centre of the vampire's body and instead plunged into the monster's side.

The vampire did not bleed, instead a thick, black, soupy ichor issued from the wound. The vampire opened its mouth and screamed, a piercing noise that set Frederick's head to spinning. The monster dropped from the roof and spun in the air. Its wings folded over its back and two spindly arms ending in spade-like clawed hands reached out for Frederick.

Frederick made a mental note to book himself in for basic combat training at the earliest opportunity. He stumbled backwards waving the moon sword at the vampire. It appeared that the initial swipe hadn't done much more than annoy the creature.

A short and ignominious scuffle followed. It quickly became clear that the vampire, whilst not a better fighter than Frederick, was stronger. It was also less self-conscious than the hapless knight. The vampire made short work of wrestling Frederick to the floor. It screamed into Frederick's face and then plunged its fangs into Frederick's neck.

Frederick, confused and frightened, expected pain, it was known that a vampire had venom in its bite. Frederick was too muddled to understand that he was probably going to die.

Frederick did not, in fact, die, instead he got another tingle from the ring of destiny. The weight of the vampire appeared to decrease. Frederick attempted a roll to throw the creature off.

The tide of strength had turned and the vampire squealed with dismay as Frederick threw the creature off him and leapt to his feet. Not sure how long the rush of strength would last Frederick picked up his sword. He hacked wildly at the vampire until he was quite sure the loathsome thing was dead.

Frederick staggered out of the cave, exhausted. He stored the head of the vampire in the sack and slung it over his shoulder. Outside the cave twilight was sucking the light from the day.

If I need anything, he thought, as he made his way back out of the woods to collect his reward, it's a bath and a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, his train of thought continued, I am looking for someone to teach me how to do this properly.

Which is what he did, but that is not a story we shall tell today.