Master of Darkness: This is Your Life … well a bit of it anyway
Syra Tanooth gazed longingly into his crystal ball. In it, he saw the evil sleep.
It looked so cute, rolled up into a ball, bits of dribble coming out of its mouth. It even rolled over occasionally, murmuring something that sounded like Mumsy. Syra had to hold himself back from running over there and giving it a big hug.
Syra had been lonely for a long time; when he was young, and wanting to be an evil mastermind, he had decided to work alone. Oh sure, things had gone well for a while. But it got to the point where he would come home from raiding a village, turning a creature to stone, or stealing a valuable diamond, and all he wanted to do was share it with someone. He wanted to laugh and joke with another being of pure evil as they reminisced on their evil deeds for the day.
Also, there had been times when having a companion would have come in handy. Retrieving the Wilderene Flower, for example. Syra had tried on three separate occasions, each three years apart, to get that flower. Twice Dazene had thwarted his attempts. His most recent attempt had been barely two months ago, and had been spoiled by knights that were dead and yet alive, and really rather smelly.
Syra knew that the flower’s magical wish would grant him immense and unbeatable power. He laughed when he thought about the things people usually said they would wish for:
‘I wish for world peace.’
‘I wish for all those who are hungry to be fed.’
‘I wish for a sandwich filled with lettuce and venison.’
Syra laughed again. Fools, each and every one, he thought. If he, Syra Tanooth, Master of Darkness, was ever granted a wish, he would use it wisely. He never understood why people didn’t wish for a million more wishes. Or wish for all their wishes to come true. Or at least wish for some sauce to go on that sandwich—it would be too dry with only meat and lettuce.
For centuries, none had been able to retrieve the Wilderene Flower, as it had been guarded by Dazene, revealer of fears. Finally, one by the name of Sir Pete McGee had defeated Dazene. Syra Tanooth had heard stories of Sir Pete McGee. It had been three years since the flower had been taken, and in that time the legend had become, well, legendary.
Sir Pete McGee: a great knight, over six feet tall and with muscles on his muscles. Syra had heard of his skill, how he had two arms and yet seemed to have twenty so fast did he move, and so large were those arms. He had legs like tree trunks, and a sword so heavy only he could carry it. Sir Pete McGee, the mightiest warrior ever seen, and as handsome as any man ever created—or born, or found under a vegetable patch, or whatever happened when babies were made, Syra didn’t know, he had been absent from school the day all that had been discussed.
Syra longed to meet Pete McGee. He did not wish to meet and greet, he wished to meet and defeat! Only by defeating the greatest warrior could he become the greatest villain; it would be his first step on the way to getting the Wilderene Flower. He wanted that flower. He wanted power. He wanted flower power. That was why he needed a partner. Not an equal partner though, more a sidekick. Actually, a minion. Sort of a slave to do his bidding. But it needed to be someone or something as evil as Syra himself.
Syra had researched evil of all kinds, scouring books, scrolls and interviewing those ‘in the know’; the evil below the surface was as evil as they came. It had been asleep, dormant, for hundreds of years, banished underground by the parents of the children it had slain. They had wanted to burn it, but had been forbidden by the King of the time, King Arnold the Forgiving-Old-Softie. So it had been banished and put to sleep.
Until now.
Now that Syra Tanooth had found the evil, it would be his perfect partner in crime. But he had to be patient. All too often, evil was impatient, rushing into things too quickly and being made to look foolish by those of virtue. Not Syra. He had vowed to be patient, ever since the fifth time he had rushed into something too quickly and had been made to look foolish by those of virtue.
Once he had an evil sidekick though, ooooh yeah, the entire world would be the one learning the lesson, and he would be the one teaching it, and it would be geography so it would be boring and everyone would get detention and he may even bring back the strap and then they would all be expelled and never let back into school! Syra Tanooth laughed his evilest laugh.
Pete McGee rode his horse, Lightning, home from training. It had been a long, tiring day, broken only by the fun he’d had play-fighting with Smithers. Overall though, Pete felt dejected. The thoughts that had consumed him at training continued as he rode home. Luckily Lightning knew the way, and Pete could basically be taken along for the ride.
‘What am I going to do, Lightning?’ Pete asked. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
Lightning whinnied in response. It was all he could do. He was a horse.
‘I know, I know,’ Pete said, pretending he had understood the whinny. ‘It is good to be in a group. It is good to learn the ways of knights. It’s just that, I don’t know, I feel squashed, and I am just starting to have a growth spurt. It’s really bad timing.’
Lightning snorted. Pete agreed.
‘Yeah, I know, bad joke. Still, it’s true. I have wanted to be a knight forever, you know. Now it seems like what it actually is to be a knight is not what Sir Loinsteak and Sir Mountable taught me.’
Lightning snorted again. Pete nodded in response.
‘True. True. You do make a good point. The thing is though, Sir Mountable taught me that you don’t need the title to be a knight. It’s how you act, the deeds you perform that are important. The title is all well and good, and means you get invited to the finest hootenannies and all, but I can still be a knight, my type of knight, without having to get the title.’
‘Whinny snort.’
‘I know, right? Mum would be so proud if I saw it through. She’s always proud when I stick things out, see them through to the end, even if they’re hard. But she wants me to be happy too. I don’t know, Lightning. My brain’s spinning.’
Lightning didn’t say anything. A tricky section of the path was coming up and he needed to concentrate, especially as his rider wasn’t being much help. Pete continued talking.
‘The good thing is that the wedding’s coming up. The new married couple, Ashlyn and Marloynne … hey, I don’t even know their surnames! I’ll have to ask one of these days. But the best thing is that I get to go to Bandragon again. I get to take the Wilderene Flower to their healers, and I get to hang out with Tahnee, Molloy and Mortone on the way back! I miss them so much.’
‘Snort.’
‘Don’t be jealous. I know I talk about Tahnee a bit, but you want a fair maiden? She is surely the fairest of them all, and cool as anything on top of it. She is …’
‘Whinny.’
‘Yes, you concentrate on the path, Lightning!
One of us needs to. Anyway, three days from now knight training takes a break and I take a trip to Bandragon.’
‘Neigh?’
‘Sorry. We take a trip to Bandragon. Of course you’re coming with me! I’ve done the journey on foot, and by myself, and I would never go there without you now. You are my closest ally, Lightning; you are the finest horse in the land.’
Lightning gave a proud whinny and started to prance. Unfortunately, they had just reached the tricky bridge part of the ride. Lightning slipped, tripped, and both horse and rider fell into the river. Pete quickly scrambled to the waist-deep water at the river’s edge and sat there, laughing. He laughed even more when Lightning kicked and spluttered his way to the surface with a lump of mud on his head.
Pete waded in, took the reins and led his horse to dry land. They were both soaked, and Lightning, being a proud and noble steed, was desperately embarrassed to have mud all over his head and wouldn’t look at Pete the whole way home.