Michael Mathias: Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

When Mikahl stepped out into the evening breeze a shock of emotion came over him like nothing he had ever felt before. “Windfoot!” he yelled as he started toward the horse that his father had given him.

Lord Gregory smiled knowingly. Lady Trella and the rest of the guests who had come outside looked at each other with perplexed expressions. It was obvious that the High King was glad to see the horse, but none of them could figure out why there was a short stubby boot strapped to the saddle.

Phen saw it, and was filled with immediate relief. “Look Oarly,” he pointed. “That’s the boot of yours that Hyden vanished.”

“Aye, lad, it is,” the dwarf said with wide-eyed wonder as he looked drunkenly at the boot, then back at Phen. “Does this mean…?”

“Wait, wait,” Mikahl said over them all, as he peered into the boot. “There’s something in there.”

Suddenly the quill-covered head of a small cat-like creature popped up out of the boot and looked around. Phen’s mouth fell open.

“Spike,” he yelled as he ran to greet his familiar. “It’s true, Oarly. It’s true,” he answered the dwarf’s unfinished question.

Oarly, Phen, and the High King were overcome with more relief than they thought was imaginable. The others caught on to the contagious emotion, even though they weren’t sure what the new reason to celebrate was. It didn’t matter, though. For the time being, hope was plentiful and all was well.

Those things alone are most always worth celebrating.