Charlie dreams of becoming a great hero and having fantastic adventures. He gets everything he wishes for when he finds himself stranded in the magical Wingle forest; he is transformed into a powerful knight and discovers the legendary race of elves who live in a city in the treetops. Unfortunately, all of this comes with a price, Charlie can remember nothing of his past life as a child and he begins to realise that grown-up adventures are not nearly as much fun as the imagined adventures of children.
Image via Wikipedia
A room was found in the city barracks that night for Charlie to sleep in. Leothina had insisted that Carlie should be an honoured guest at the palace but this had caused some kind of dispute between her and Lord Joup that Charlie was too tired to follow. Eventually the king came down on Joup’s side and Charlie was given quarters usually only reserved for higher ranking officers of the King’s guard. So this was his status in Lynia thought Charlie; too important to be housed with the common soldiers yet too dangerous to sleep in the same building as the royals. It could be a lot worse. On his arduous trek up to the barracks Carlie had witnessed some aspects of the city that showed him Lynia wasn’t all banquets and palaces. He had seen the slums built in the highest regions of the city aboard wooden platforms. There were families living in flimsy shacks that shook in the wind. Some had even dug into the Dyle trees to create shelter for their children and there they lived inside holes in the wood like the animals of the forest.
There was a knock at the door. One of the palace servants walked in carrying a large bundle. In a hurry she placed the load on the bed, then curtsied quickly and looking straight at Charlie’s boots, she said,
“Compliments of the King.”
After the servant had left Charlie examined the bundle. He found clothes of the same kind that the twins wore and a pack with equipment for his journey. Inside it was a blanket, rope, a hammock, a hunting knife and some black blocks that vaguely resembled food. Finally he also came across a clear beaker full of the same glowing fungus that Charlie had seen on rocks all around the city.
He unburdened himself of his armour and sat on the bed. Now that Charlie was finally able to rest he found that his mind was racing and he couldn’t make himself sleep. He was disturbed. He was nothing, a blur. To all intensive purposes he was less than a day old. He had nothing but his instincts and a name to guide him. The name. Charles – Charlie Dunthorpe, he tried to recapture the moment when he had spoken those words to Elnor, at that moment it had seemed so clear, so obvious. Who was Charlie? The envoy from Callun? Some kind of hero? Or some kind of villain? That thought chilled him, if his memory returned would he become something evil, a tool of the goblins?
Currently there are no comments related to "The Knight From Callun: Part Four". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
