The Reckoning

The mist grew thick over the Grove of Reckoning as the first small imp stepped from the dark, shaggy pines into the clearing. He wandered among the rough-hewn benches, lighting the torches, preparing the space for the others who would be coming. He lit the final torch next to the speaker’s post as a seven foot troll pushed through the heavy foliage and stood at the edge of the circle.

The imp looked up and smiled, “Well hello, Graklin. I suppose I already know how you will vote.”
The troll grunted. “These humans have had their time. They’re worse monsters than they paint us to be. I say it’s time to end their reign.”

“I agree!” said a tall vampire girl in black leather as she joined the group. “They have had their chance – too many chances, if you ask me – and it’s time to end the whole thing. If they are going to act like monsters, then allow us real monsters to take over again!”

The imp smiled, “Yes, I thought you might feel that way, Satara. But perhaps we should wait for everyone to arrive. Look, here comes the speaker now.” The imp pointed as a sorcerer dressed in a red-trimmed black cape stepped effortlessly into the circle and glided towards the podium at the front of the gathering. He stood at his post and silently watched as orcs, ghosts, demons, ogres, wizards, vampires, werewolves, and other myriad monsters stepped into circle and found their place. He nodded to each one as they entered and most bowed to him. Kraigen had been the speaker of the Reckoning for centuries now, and all respected him. Most feared him.

He grimaced as he heard a slight cough to his right. He turned to look at the old woman who sat a few feet away and a little behind him. The woman’s torn gray gowns rustled as she looked up from her knitting and smile slightly at the sorcerer. “They’ve turned out in mass this year, haven’t they?”

Kraigen sneered, “Of course they have, Grandmother. The humans are out of control. There are those who say they have become the real monsters, which makes our exile all the more unbearable. This must end! Surely even you, who negotiated the original agreement and our exile, can appreciate that!”

The old woman nodded as her slim, gnarled fingers worked her needles with the skill that comes with years of experience. “I feel your frustrations, and you will be given your voices tonight, as is the custom. But the outcome is not yet decided. Unless you wish to break those customs.”

Kraigen bristled. “No, we will all keep to the customs, and you know it. It may anger us, but we know better than to break that which has been made. We know who made it, after all.”

Grandmother – no one remembered her real name – nodded and smiled again. “Then call this meeting to order.”

Kraigen stepped to the podium and cleared his throat. The crowd became instantly silent and those standing found a seat quickly. “This October 30, we have gathered here for the Reckoning. This is the ten thousand, three hundred eighty sixth year that we monsters have gathered here for this time of judgment, in accordance in our custom.

“Before the First Reckoning, we monsters ruled the earth, and it was in chaos. We played our tricks, did our dirty deeds, and were a force for chaos. We brought change to everything we touched, and the world was a wild and lively place because of it.

“Then the humans came along. They were a weak race of beings, and we toyed with them and played with them. They became sport to us. And they began to mimic us in many ways.

“But there were those among our leaders,” and Kraigen gave a meaningful, malicious glance at Grandmother, who continued her knitting seemingly oblivious, “who decided that the humans held a greater potential. They felt these humans could make something great and noble of this world. So they came together and made the Agreement.

“By the agreement, we monsters went into voluntary exile, turning the world over to the humans. And the humans have ruled ever since. However, to appease those of us who did not share our leaders’ noble view of humans, our leaders agreed to let us hold the yearly Reckoning. On this one night each year, we gather to consider what the humans have done and whether they deserve the reprieve we have granted them.

“So let us consider the deeds and hearts of the humans now and decide if they are still noble and good people. Or let us consider whether their hearts have become darkened and they are no better than the monsters who went into exile. Let us decide whether we shall remain in exile or return to remind humans that they are not the only ones who can be cruel.”

Immediately a werewolf stood to speak. “I say that they are worse than us and that the exile should be ended! They murder each other will little thought, and even for sport. They do awful things to one another, things more vicious than any attack I could make against them.”

A poltergeist spoke up, “Yes! And the way they treat their children is awful! Parents do awful things to the young ones they are meant to support and protect!”

For hours, monster after monster added to the list of human atrocities. Each time a monster spoke, they would look at Grandmother, as if to challenge her to defend her precious humans. On occasion, Grandmother would look up and nod thoughtfully before returning to her knitting.

Finally, Kraigen spoke. “I think we have heard enough. Clearly, these humans have taken the gift we gave them and have abused it. They have done horrible things. I see no reason why we should let them continue to have reign of the earth. He turned deliberately to the old woman. “What do you say, Grandmother.”

The old woman continued knitting for a few seconds before setting her needles aside and looking at the crowd before her. She thought for several long seconds before finally speaking. “Yes, I admit that the humans have not touched the potential for greatness and nobility as we had originally hoped. For various reasons, they have let their worse natures reign in far too many instances. And that is painful for me to watch, just as it angers all of you who feel your exile has been in vain.

“And yet, there is good in them as well. Consider the case of little Casey Adamson of Summerville, South Carolina.” With a wave of her hand, Grandmother conjured an image before the group. There stood a little girl with scars all over her body and bits of rag which clung to her body and barely kept her clothed. “Little Casey is nine. She ran away from home because she was tired of being abused by her stepfather. She scrounges for food wherever she can and sleeps in trash-strewn alleys.”

“Yesterday, little Casey was eating half a peanut butter sandwich, when a little boy, Michael came along. Michael is another homeless little child, about six. Casey saw that he was starving, and gave him her sandwich. She went hungry that day because of it, but she still helped out poor Michael.”

Several monsters groaned, and more muttered and howled. Kraigen flashed in anger. “That’s very touching, but surely that one act does not make up for all the other horrible things Casey’s fellow humans have done!”

Grandmother smiled and shook her head. “No, it does not. But that is not what is required at the Reckoning. I am simply required to show one act of human kindness, offered by a human who has no reason to offer it, and who actually would benefit by refusing to be so kind. I believe I have met that requirement.”

Kraigen bristled. “So we are to remain in exile and let humans continue doing awful things simply because one destitute girl did something nice?”

Grandmother simply smiled and said, “Yes, and why not? That’s one act of kindness more than any of us have ever done, isn’t it?”

The grove became instantly silent again. Each monster bowed his head, struck by the truth in Grandmother’s words. She continued, knowing that she had one another year of freedom for the humans. “You see, children, that is the real issue. The humans still have their potential for nobility and goodness. As long as it finds expression at least once a year, that will not change, and that makes them more worthy of the earth than you.

“However, I do not deny the atrocities of man. So as I have done in past years, I give you leave tomorrow night to return to the world from sundown to sunset. Remind the humans what true horror looks like. Have your fun, but only for one night. Then you shall return to our exile and we shall see if the humans learn anything.”

With that, the monsters began to leave the grove, some in total silence, others talking softly. Grandmother returned to her knitting. After several long minutes, she looked up to see one lonely imp snuffing the torches. She spoke softly to him, “So old friend, do you still doubt me?”

The imp turned to her. “I wish I had less doubts, Grandmother. I am moved by your love for these humans, but I admit that I’m not sure I share your faith in them. And I fear that you are pushing the others to the breaking point.”

Grandmother nodded. “Kraigen wishes I would pass on already. He figures that once I do, breaking the Agreement will be easy.”

The imp shrugged. “You seem to be the only one who continues to defend the humans. His assumption seems reasonable.

“Indeed it does. That is why it is fortunate for the humans that my life is tied directly to the hope of the humans. So long as there is hope for them, I will be here.”

The imp shuddered. “I’m glad that Kraigen doesn’t realize that.”

The old woman smiled, “You’re also glad that he doesn’t know that you helped me tie my life energies to their hope and nobility.”

The imp smiled. “Yes, I am. I’m not sure I’d survive such a discovery.”

“Do you regret your choice?”

The imp paused in thought before finally answering. “No, Grandmother. You have done many things for me, so I am only too happy to help you in that way. Even if I have my doubts.”

Grandmother stood slowly. “That is good to know. And I appreciate your friendship, despite your doubts. But now, I must go. Good night to you, old friend.”

“Good night.”