Habitica 03-2019 Unfinished Tales

After finishing my homework, I decided to watch something on TV. After struggling to find something good to watch on TV, I came across an unfamiliar, but interesting-looking, show. I tried seeing if there was anything else to watch, but the show apparently was on every single channel. The show was a cartoon about a knight in a fantasy world. But there was something strange: the knight was talking to me and addressing me by name! I felt the urge to come closer. My mom noticed and told me to not stand too close to the TV. But I felt myself coming closer and closer. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and I found myself in a strange place that looked exactly like the fantasy world that the show took place in! I was also face-to-face with a knight that looked quite similar to the knight on the show as well! After the knight addressed me by name again, I realized that I had somehow ended up sucked inside of the show? I asked the knight, "How do I get out of here?" The knight replied, "You must defeat the evil warlock who is trying to take over." Suddenly, I heard a strange sound. I looked around, and I saw a middle-aged cartoon woman holding a red dishcloth. She stared at the world and wheezed just like my mom would wheeze when startled. In fact, the woman's brown hair was held back with a purple clip just like my mom's hair, and her t-shirt said “Coppertown Cheetahs”—my mascot.

“Mom?” I said, hoping the woman wouldn't recognize me.

But the woman gave a start when she heard my voice. “Oh, Antonio! What—You don't look like my Antonio.” She gripped the red dishcloth with both hands and retreated a few steps.

I could hear the knight's horse whicker behind me. Let him grow impatient; my squat little mama had followed me into the television! “Mom,” I said, holding up a hand, “It's me, Ant—” I cut off. My upraised hand looked flat and brown. The fingers didn't have fingernails, and I only had four fingers on each hand. My arm started to shake. Everything sounded distant but I could hear a rushing noise growing closer and louder. The air had three puffy clouds and a bird sang in the sky even though I couldn't see any birds. “Mama!” I yelled.

And she was there, wrapping me up in her arms and holding my head against her shoulder. I shut my eyes tight and tried to ignore the stale sameness that I smelled from everything. Mom should smell like cooking oil and corn and lavender soap, but I couldn't smell anything in this place.

“Shhhh,” she said. “Shh.” Then, to the knight, she demanded to know what was going on.

“My good lady,” the knight said, “We are going to defeat a warlock.” He sounded cheery and noble. He sounded plastic.

“A warlock,” Mom repeated flatly.

“Just so! Actually, the young squire there will defeat him. I will help. And you—” The knight faltered. “You are welcome to watch.”

Mom and I separated, which meant I could see the epic glare she gave the armored knight. I wanted her to go away, to just disappear so I could have this adventure. But a secret part of me was glad she was there. With everything around so wrong, it was good to hear her voice and see her get ready to whoop someone who needed it. No amount of cartoon cell shading could hide her expression.

The knight stood firm under her withering stare. I couldn't see his face behind his visor, but he kept his feet planted and his shoulders back, so I think he stood firm.

Suddenly Mom rounded on me. “Your baby sister,” she said.

“Margo is eight,” I pointed out.

“Your baby sister gets home from practice in less than an hour. What will she think when she finds the house empty? The TV on—who only knows what's on the TV right now—and the dishes half done… She'll think we ran out on her!”

Margo would more likely not care and snag a bag of spicy chips before anyone could stop her. She might notice no dinner ready, though. “Who cares?” I said. “We should help here. Wherever here is.”

The knight stepped forward, hands on his hips. “You are in the kingdom of Peace and Justice, called Tranquillia. And we must leave for the warlock's mountain before it's too late to get there today.” He pointed past them, across the sloping two-dimensional plains, at a dark and shadowed mountain that dominated the horizon. From this distance I couldn't tell if it was a mile away or thirty.

“How do we get back home?” Mom demanded right as I asked, “Why me?”

The knight's visor turned to look at each of us in turn. “You must defeat the warlock,” he said.

Mom threw her hands up. “After we defeat the warlock—”

“After he defeats him, yes,” the knight corrected.

If Mom had had an extra dimension her nostrils would be flaring. “After my fourteen year-old son defeats a warlock, we can go home?” she asked through gritted teeth.

That wasn't fair, I was almost fifteen in a few months!

The knight laughed. “But of course! After the warlock is no more, you and the young squire may return home. But the only way to go back is to go on. Now come, let us mount up!” He leapt into the saddle and tried to use his knees to guide the horse forward. The horse snorted and danced sideways.

I shared a glance with Mom. This guy was going to help us get out of here? The knight's horse high-stepped backwards between she and I. I raised a hand like in school. “Umm, sir? Sir?”

“Do you invoke the heavens?” asked the knight.

I dropped my hand. “No, I—do you have extra horses?”

“Certainly!” He gestured vaguely to the right. “I have a pack mule that you may ride.”

And indeed he did, I saw with a sinking heart. The mule looked more like a donkey, and an angry donkey at that. Further, I knew that the mule hadn't been there until the knight pointed it out. It stood laden down with hampers and pots and green rolled cloths. Everything a cartoon knight would need. No visible food or water, though. My stomach growled. Mom had leftover rice and chicken for making dirty rice waiting for us on the counter. What would Margo think when she got home?

But there was no point in hesitating. I figured the cartoon mule wouldn't have teeth so I walked over and started feeling around its middle for the clasp on the panniers. Mom joined me. She stayed clear of the mule's front and back ends. Together we dumped all of the extra supplies on the ground. The beast looked pleased to be out from under its burden.

“I guess we ride it barebacked?” I asked Mom. Her eyes widened. Mom didn't like the family dog, much less something that weighed more than her first car. “Wait here,” I told her. Then I went over to the knight who thankfully had his horse back under control.

“Sir?” I asked him quietly.

“Sir Ian!” he laughed.

“…Really? Ian? Okay, whatever. Do you have an extra saddle for my mom? She's nervous around horses.”

The knight straightened. “Nervous?” he repeated in his booming voice. “No damsel shall be nervous while I'm about. Here, my lady!” he called to my mom.

She jumped away from the mule as though the docile animal had yelled at her. “What?” she snapped.

The knight took up his reigns and walked his horse over to her, even pursuing her when she shied back a foot. “You shall ride behind me on my steed,” he announced.

“I shall do no such thing,” she said.

Unnoticed by either of them I scrambled up on the mule's back. Eventually. The mule was tall and its coat too short to get a good handhold on. The thing bayed and twitched its shoulders. Perhaps it thought I was an unusually heavy fly.

My mom and the knight were still arguing when I found a stable position. A stable, not a comfortable, position. My mom had her arms crossed. “Take off your visor so I can yell at you to your face,” she was saying. I groaned.

“What visor?” the knight asked, sounding genuinely curious. But then he was back to all genial business. “My good lady please, we don't have much time. If we are not all mounted and heading for the castle soon we will lose our chance. The young squire is the only one who can defeat the warlock.”

How, I wondered. The knight never had answered my question about why he chose me. But by my mom's clenched chin, she wasn't going to change her mind any time soon. I needed to distract them, so I asked the knight—Sir Ian—why the warlock needed to be defeated.

“Why?” the knight yelped. “Squire, is not enough that he practices forbidden magics?”

Personally, I didn't think that was so horrible. “What does he do with these magics?” I asked, then kicked myself for repeating his silly wording.

“Among other things, he turns creatures into newts. And,” the knight leaned out of the saddle, “they don't get better.”

Mom snorted.

“He turned my last steed into a newt,” continued Sir Ian, sounding sad. “I'd raised her from a filly. She could kick and bite like the best warhorse, and then she was no bigger than—” he held up his gauntleted hand palm up.

I wanted to growl at mother to get on the man's horse before he got angry and left us alone in this flat land, but I couldn't figure out how to get my mule to start. Fortunately, she got the idea and uncrossed her arms.

“How long will it take to defeat the warlock?” she asked.

Sir Ian glanced at the sunless sunny sky. “Less than thirty minutes,” he answered. “Maybe. We've wasted a lot of time, so it might take one week and thirty minutes. Now hurry, before the commercial break comes.”

Sir Ian grabbed Mom's hand and pulled her up behind him with minimal fussing. He wheeled his horse, who seemed slower with the weight of two people, and cantered in the direction of the castle.

I sat on my mule and mouthed the word 'commercial' a couple of times. What would a commercial break be like in this place?

My beast of burden pricked up its ears and whinny-brayed. It jerked forward after Sir Ian's new mount. I threw my arms around its neck to stay seated. “Woah, Horse-thing,” I yelled. My stomach growled louder. Would Margo be home by now? What about Dad? Above all, I didn't want to think about how I'd defeat a man who could change living things.

As if thinking about Margo made her voice filter through, I heard her in the breeze. “Antonio?” the breeze sighed in her voice. “Antonio, where are? Antonio!”

She sounded panicked. Who would have guessed.

Suddenly the flat hills and sky popped. I could feel the pop in myself, too. One minute we were two dimensional, and the next the land stretched out in real depth. My body fleshed out instantly. The hands clutching my mule's sweaty neck had five fingers.

Ahead of me I could hear Sir Ian call out in glee, “The commercial break has come!” Our mounts ate up the distance. We were already in the foothills under the dark mountain. I saw a black-tailed squirrel scrabble up an elm tree beside the road. The air filled with the sound of insects and spring peepers.

And in the next hoof beat it all disappeared, replaced with my family room. I overbalanced and toppled backwards onto the couch, which sagged under my and Mom's weight. She landed on my foot.

Margo straightened up from behind the television, her eyes somehow wider than mine. She held the TV's unplugged power cord in her hand.