Melody?

  Alfread felt Zander’s mother wrap her arms around him, warming him. A memory of her whispered in his mind, tickling him until he formed an image of himself sitting on a hilltop with her. He pushed that reminiscence aside.

  He had been fighting Zander. The last thing he could remember was being choked. He must’ve passed out. Why didn’t he feel any pain?

  Confused, Alfread stared at his hands. He turned them over several times. The cracked and bruised knuckles he would’ve expected were pristine. Yet, the bruises on Zander’s face remained. He scanned the ruined tent, finding no sign of a healer. Zander sat on his cot, shaking, his face wet. There was nobody else. No Melody. No Asa. Nobody who could’ve healed his hands and neck.

  Alfread grasped for understanding. How long had he been unconscious? Prolonged periods of unconsciousness could produce brain damage. Brain damage could explain his faulty memories of the intensity of the fight he had with Zander. Alfread knew that characters in the stories could be knocked out and stay unconscious for angles without any lasting injury. Alas, he knew he wasn’t living in one of those stories.

  Alfread tried to consult his memory for information on being choked unconscious but his memory failed him. Nobody had ever entered Mirielda’s medica with this condition and he hadn’t encountered it in any manuals, at least in a manner that he encoded as his life story. Or, he considered, the damage had stripped him of his memory.

  Frantically, Alfread scanned his mind for obscure stories that could fill in the spaces. His mind was pulled, gravitating back toward the starting point, demanding to relive the critical memory of the moment, the one that had predicted this.

  Melody’s beautiful voice filled his ears with sweet sound even as her strength carried Alfread and Zander to the summit of the highest hill in Bear’s Crossing. He gazed up, laughing, and felt naught but awe at the sight of a sky full of stars shining above the towering woman with beautiful auburn hair that splashed against him in waves. Melody of Mirrevar set them down and they all tumbled, lightheartedly, to the ground. After a little playful wrestling, and many delighted squeals, they ended gazing up at the stars from their backs with Melody’s arms around each of her boys.

  Melody described the firmament and told stories of the stars. Alfread snuggled in, tucking himself tight to her warmth and her entrancing words. At the end of her tale, Zander’s snores announced that they were alone in sharing the warm autumn evening.

  Melody rubbed Alfread’s hair and directed his attention to a constellation that she called the Crossroads.

  “Tell me a story about the Crossroads,” young Alfread demanded.

  Melody smiled at him. She closed her eyes for a few moments and the wind gusted on the little hill. She reopened her seers and their purple gleam twinkled at Alfread. “A story of the Crossroads?”

  Alfread nodded. “Please.”

  “I could never deny you, my little storyteller.” She pinched his cheek, eliciting a delighted giggle. Zander let out a long and lone snore and they shared a conspiratorial chuckle.

  “Once upon a time there lived a young man—”

  “What was his name?” Alfread interrupted.

  “Freedom was his name.”

  “Freedom isn’t a name!” Alfread complained. “Freedom is an abstract concept! Like peace!”

  “Wrong,” Melody said, lightly poking her finger at Alfread’s nose, smirking at him like he was the silliest thing she’d ever seen. “Freedom is whomever it wants to be and Freedom was the name of this young man.”

  Alfread shook his head but he smiled all the same.

  “Freedom,” Melody paused with a raised eyebrow, setting bait for Alfread to challenge her. He did not. “Freedom was a most clever young man. He lived his life knowing what he wanted and devoting himself to his dreams. He was patient and many would say he was perfect in his pursuit. Freedom learned how to protect himself and, more importantly, he learned how to protect and care for others. Freedom knew that he needed more than strength of arms but also strength of mind and strength of spirit.”

  Melody gazed at Alfread with that smile that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. Alfread knew even then, in the prologue of his story, that he would never see anyone who was more beautiful than Melody. Her purple eyes glowed in the night, eclipsing the stars. His mother was the epitome of kind, but Melody’s mere presence made the world feel a wondrous place of possibility where dreams came true. Alfread stared longer than he needed to, savoring the feel of her gaze on him, letting warmth blanket him in peace. Then, knowing the tale must be told, he played his part in Melody’s story. “What did Freedom dream for?”

  Melody turned their attention back to the stars. She pointed to the brightest constellation in the sky. “The Radiant,” she told him. “Oh, how Freedom longed to bask in the light of the Radiant! You see, to Freedom, the other lights in the sky were dazzling distractions that simply would not do. Freedom knew his destiny and he set his intention to make his dream come true.”

  Melody sighed and lowered her eyes for a turn. She glanced at the side of Alfread’s face as he fixated on the Radiant. “Alas, the road to the Radiant was long and perilous. Each time Freedom reached for her, the brightest of stars backed away, scared of what Freedom offered her.”

  “That doesn’t make sense! Why would she fear Freedom?”

  Melody pointed to the Radiant. “Do you see those spaces of darkness at the center of the Radiant?”

  Alfread nodded. Though the Radiant was composed of unusually luminous stars, there was a dark hole at its heart.

  “Remember this, Alfread.” She rubbed his head as if trying to write her words upon his crown. “You remember everything, but most of all, remember this. Things are not always as bright on the inside as they seem on the outside. We cannot see what darkness lies within even the brightest of exteriors. Too often have I seen immeasurable pain hiding within places of equally immense beauty.” Melody stalled and swallowed before finishing, “The tragedy is that those places of darkness fear the light, even drive it away, when the light is the very thing that would make them whole.”

  Alfread gazed at the tears falling from Melody’s eyes and found himself crying too, though he couldn’t say why. “I will remember, Melody.”

  Melody pulled him to her and together they gazed up at the Crossroads. “What did Freedom do?” Alfread asked, unwilling to let the story end unfinished.

  Melody gave a short chortle that never left her mouth. “Freedom followed the Radiant to the Crossroads. He was exhausted by his pursuit and though he had always believed in his dreams, he began to doubt. What if he had always been wrong? What if his dream wasn’t to devote himself to the Radiant? What if the Radiant was not meant for him? What if the Radiant was just another test meant to prepare him for his true purpose? What if he was destined for another?”

  Alfread grew impatient with Melody’s pause. “What happened next, Melody?”

  “Freedom stood at the Crossroads. True to his name, he had the freedom to choose his path. At one end of the Crossroads, Freedom saw the Radiant calling to him. Yet, he also saw another path, one that would take him to the highest heights and the lowest depths. Yes, Freedom had always dreamt of the Radiant, but Leverith, did this other path set aflame the fire in his soul!”

  Alfread needed to know the end of this story! “What did he choose!”

  Melody turned her body so she could meet Alfread’s eyes. “Freedom’s choice at the Crossroads changed the course of history. When storytellers looked back, they deemed that had Freedom not chosen his path, all their later stories would need to be rewritten and all their endings lost.” Alfread noted that Melody choked off tears and her voice shook, “Yet, when Freedom looked forward at the Crossroads, he knew what his choice needed to be.”

  Alfread, eight years old, stared at Melody and tried to make sense of her story. “Did he make the right choice?” he asked.

  Melody laughed, wiped her eyes, then pinched his cheek. “Too often in life, my dear storyteller, our choices are not as simple as right or wrong.” Melody nodded several times. “Yet, choose we must. Freedom was free to make his choice and choose he did. Remember that in life we will always have choices and that we will all have our crossroads. The decisions we make at the crossroads can rewrite the stars.”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Alfread nodded, trying to absorb her wisdom. “Did Freedom choose the Radiant?” Alfread asked.

  “I do not know,” Melody answered, her voice cracking and tears flowing down her perfect face. She put her hand on Alfread’s cheek. “This is not my story to finish, Alfread. I started this story, but I will not finish it.”

  Alfread grasped at her meaning. “You…want me…to finish the story?”

  “Always, my beloved storyteller.”

  Nine years later in Mirrevar, in the place of Melody’s birth and where she had spent most of her life, Alfread realized that he was at the crossroads. Half his lifetime ago, he had already known what he must do now. He approached the crossroads, ready to make the choice that would define the future of all stories.

  “I didn’t bed her,” Zander whispered.

  Alfread shrugged. For the last several days, Alfread had intruders in his mind, forcing him to witness the passionate frolicking of Zander and Asa. Even now, he saw a flash of Asa’s ecstasy as Zander filled her. They grinned at him, smiles opening wider with the moan that accompanied each thrust. They raced toward the climax together, forcing Alfread to watch as they laughed and mocked him. Zander told him that he was “second best and always had been.” Asa confirmed that Alfread was not good enough and that she found someone who was. She turned her face to Zander’s and they kissed, continuing on with their lust and pretending Alfread didn’t exist.

  Alfread’s visions of them made it hard to believe otherwise. The evidence of his observations only strengthened those feelings. Kenneth told him that they had been riding double and looking very friendly. Alfread had even stolen a gaze at Zander’s beaming face when he said good night to her outside her tent and told her he looked forward to continuing where they left off. Asa had been the first to rush forward to Zander at his knighting ceremony and their embrace had sealed the truth into his mind. Sure, Zander could deny it and Alfread didn’t have definitive proof, but it didn’t matter anymore.

  This song ended the same. Alfread was not wanted here and he no longer wanted to be here. He had the freedom to make his choice.

  His listless declaration felt final. “I’m leaving.”

  “Please don’t leave,” Zander whispered, putting his head in his hands.

  “There is nothing for me here but nightmares.”

  Zander shook his head. He whimpered, then lowered his hands, and set his tearful gaze on Alfread. “Don’t give up hope, Alfread.”

  Alfread felt no flicker of hope. The situation was truly and inarguably hopeless. The Radiant had led him to the crossroads. He chose his path. He had chosen this years ago and he would abide by that fateful decision. “I cannot go any further, Zander. I tried so hard to make her see me. But all she saw was you. Now,” Alfread hesitated but Zander gave him space, “now, all I see when I close my eyes is you and her…”

  Zander groaned. As always, he fought to the end. “She is like a sister to me and I a brother to her! She never saw me as her life’s mate, Alfread!”

  Alfread brushed it away and gathered his battle-scattered belongings. What difference did it make if Zander told the truth?

  “Do not give in, Alfread,” Zander challenged. “You need to finish strong.”

  Alfread released a bitter snort. “I will finish strong, Zander. Do you not realize the strength it takes to set down the dream you have held to your heart all your life? I choose a new path, one that will make me whole rather than feel this hollow hurt every day. The fire in my soul will blaze again and I will finish strong.”

  Zander grinned as if he had just uncovered the secret to happiness. “Go to her! Kiss her! Tell her that you will only have her! Tell her that you will be hers. Hers always!”

  “Farewell Zander,” Alfread said without a glance back at the man who had always been his best friend. He stepped out of the tent and left behind the worst chapter of his life.

  *************

  Whether it was beside a great hill, a deathbed, or in a wrecked tent, Zander had learned much about abandonment. He had learned that nothing he could say nor do would stop the inevitable outcome. He was the orphan, not the knight. He was destined to be left behind.

  He did not know how long he would have sat there staring at the empty and broken space left behind by Alfread had Asa not entered. At first, her light was a powerful radiance.

  Then her light flickered. “Where is Alfread?”

  Zander lowered his head into his hands. “Leaving,” he mumbled.

  “Leaving! He can’t leave!”

  Zander didn’t need to lift his head to realize that her bright aura had faded away. “He can and he is,” Zander snapped, “unless you give him a reason to stay.”

  Her voice shook. “He can’t go,” she repeated.

  “Why do you even care?” Zander felt the darkness twisting his gut, clenching his jaw, closing his fingers into a fist. “He’s done nothing but try to make you like him, and all you’ve done is lead him to the door and slam it in his face.”

  “I was afraid,” Asa muttered.

  “Afraid? Of Alfread?” Zander scoffed. “Make it make sense!”

  Asa looked down. “Afraid that I did not deserve to be happy. Afraid that…I wanted him too much and that…he wouldn’t want me.”

  “So instead you pushed him away? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”

  Eyes down, she nodded. “I told you I’m no good. This is what I deserve.”

  Zander bit down, suppressing his rage. He hated quitters, hated people that gave up hope, that wallowed in their misery. Why do you think he hated himself? All his talk of finishing strong and he never did. This time, though, he wouldn’t give up hope.

  “Finish strong, Asa. Get to the stables. Stop him. Tell the truth.”

  Asa shook her head, tears rimming her eyes. “I can’t.”

  Zander had enough of her divinedamned nonsense. He led her out of the tent, guided her toward the stables, and refused to let her quit. She dragged her feet as he took her by the hand and marched her up the main road toward the west gate.

  “It’s hopeless,” she muttered.

  “It’s never hopeless, Asa. He loves you. Tell him that you love him too.”

  Asa’s aura flashed, flickering between golden and gray.

  He chased her short-legged sprint, herding her toward her happiness like a shepherd dog guiding a lost lamb to pasture. Zander felt a strike of fear in his heart when they found neither Alfread nor Workhorse at the stables. He bid her sprint with everything she had, hoping to find him before he was out of reach.

  He succeeded.

  Alfread remounted Workhorse as the west gate creaked open.

  “Stop!” Zander yelled.

  Alfread refused to look back, more stubborn than his immutable ass.

  Asa hesitated, tears already filling her eyes.

  “Go to him!” Zander said, pushing her toward the gate.

  “Alfread!” she shouted.

  Alfread nudged Workhorse’s ribs, urging him toward the Impwood. Yet, Workhorse was like a gust of wind. He couldn’t be tamed nor would he follow a direction when his mind was set on a contrary course. The mule brayed, defying his master’s command. Workhorse, ever fond of Asa, trotted back into the encampment.

  “No! That way!” Alfread shouted. He sent repeated kicks into the mule’s ribs, pulled on the reins, shifted his body. All to no avail. Workhorse planted his feet.

  Asa inched closer, as if approaching a fire she knew would burn her if she came too close.

  “Alfread?”

  Alfread matched the mule’s stubbornness. Head down, he stared at the mule, nudging his ribs. Workhorse issued a mulish whinny as the trembling Asa stroked his muzzle.

  Alfread held the reins, his eyes shooting skyward. Asa ran her hand along the reins until their hands met. To Zander, her voice was that of a woman on the precipice of a great drop, dangling over the edge, reaching for her lover’s grip before she slipped into the abyss.

  “Please stay,” she begged.

  He didn’t pull away nor did he set his eyes on her. “I’ve made my choice,” he whispered.

  “Stay with me,” Asa said. She squeezed his hand, the touch laden with her love, and her fear.

  Tell him, Zander thought, clinging to hope.

  “I l-l—”

  “—I am leaving,” Alfread said, eyes to the sky.

  “No!” Asa cried. “You can’t go!”

  Alfread stared into her eyes. For once, Asa didn’t look away. A fire burned in him, one that scalded. “Watch me,” he growled.

  “Alfread!” Tears cascaded Asa’s face like a waterfall. “I need you. I—”

  “—You have Sir Zander,” Alfread roared.

  Alfread ripped his hand away from hers. She crashed to her knees, crying like a dying animal. Workhorse whined but Alfread finally got the mule to leave Mirrevar behind.

  Zander watched him, as helpless as a ten-year-old boy feeling his mother’s hand go limp as her life faded. He gripped at his locket, but that didn’t replace his mother nor his best friend and only reminded him that his own lover had left him too.

  He fell to the ground beside Asa, wrapped his arm around her, and cried together with her for all the pain they shared.

  *************

  “Freedom arrived at the Crossroads,” Alfread told Melody atop the little hill beneath the stars. “He looked forward, seeing two paths and not knowing which was better. He knew that neither were right, and neither were wrong. These two paths, you see, they were different as could be and they would change the course of Freedom’s life, of the very world he lived in.”

  Alfread paused. He looked deep within himself, trying to feel the ending of this story. “Alas, Freedom did not choose the path he had always planned. He turned away from the Radiant, following the path that would set ablaze the fire in his soul.”

  Quietly weeping, Melody embraced Alfread and Zander. “Thus, he shall,” she whispered. “Thus, he shall…”