The Epic Rescue of Meligander

It seemed like mere minutes, but when Meligander awoke it was light. It had been twilight when the guards had brought her to this room and thrown her roughly inside. I must have slept all night, she thought groggily. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around. The room was circular, almost certainly a tower, and it smelled of ancient mildew. It was empty except for a glass of yellowish water and a plate of what surely used to be food near the door.  Her stomach sank at the realization that she could be here for a very long time.

She didn’t know exactly why she was taken, but she remembered the soldiers that had been sent to retrieve her. About thirty of them had surrounded the cottage she shared with the village wisewoman. The bastards had simultaneously broken down the door and smashed in the only window, using both points of entry.  She pictured the way their strange, almost ethereal bodies had cascaded through the window, and a cold shiver zipped down her spine. She couldn’t imagine why they would want to take her, of all people. She didn’t own anything they could plunder and didn’t yet have the level of mastery with magic that the old woman had, but there was no negotiating with these devil men.  Strong and evil though they were, their strong point was not intelligence, and often they moved as if possessing only one mind between them. 

         As always in times of crisis, Meligander guided her consciousness inward.  She put her mind through the usual steps; first relaxing herself completely, then opening up to her inner guide that was a constant presence.  "What do I do now? Please, please help me.” she begged the guide who chose to present itself as a white wolf on this day.

He answered, “You silly child, why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to? Call for him, of course. Does he not live to protect you?”

          “But Josephior is far away, on a mission for the King. He cannot possibly come to save me this time. And anyway, the last night we spent together, I bade him to take leave of me. He will not come.” Meligander hung her head as the tears started to well up.

         “Hush, child. Have you learned nothing from the old woman? Perfect love cannot be held back by evil men. They may take and hide it away for a time, but its light will always shine through the darkest of nights. Call and he will come for you.” And with that, he gave her hand a comforting lick and disappeared into the stone wall.

         Before she had any time to think about what her guide had said to her, she heard the hard and juicy thwak of steel against flesh coming from the courtyard below. The sound stopped almost before it started, and there was only one person in the world with that kind of speed and skill, her lover Josephior.

  Her heart skipped a beat and then began pumping faster.  A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind as her heart swelled. She hadn’t yet called for him. How could he have known she was taken? That she was here in this place? And why should he even come for her when she had treated him so poorly? 

She knew there was a golem outside her door; she had heard the heavy scratch-thump sounds of its movement in the hall. She wondered if Josephior’s mighty sword would have trouble dispatching such a creature, but she remembered that it was nearly impossible to stop her protector when he was fixed upon a goal.  Only Meligander knew his weakness. Only she knew what could distract him from his purpose, and now was not the time for such revelry. Even among such high danger, she smirked a little as that seductive thought entered her mind, leaving a longing that was somewhat south of her heart.

This pleasant daydream was ended abruptly by the the cold hand that was suddenly around her throat.  She instinctively knew that this was the man who had sent the soldiers to her cottage. Meligander half gasped, half choked at the sight of her captor. Long, greasy, colorless hair hung about his face, and he had a strange expression that was a mixture of rage, hatred, and something else that she couldn’t quite identify.  The stench of his raspy breath hung about her like a noxious cloud as he hissed in her ear, “He won’t have you this time. He will not have what he wants, not again! I will relish killing you in front of him. Just a few more moments until he does away with the golem, and then we shall begin.” At this, he pulled out a dagger and held it silently to the base of her throat.

They stood there together, knife to throat, for perhaps ten seconds until they heard the sound of splitting rock, and then the door to her cell was thrown open with a force equal to that of an entire army.  And standing there, full of all the fury and glory of Zeus on Mt. Olympus, was her hero. Her savior. Her sweet Josephior, come to rescue her. It seemed to Meligander that a soft light shone from somewhere behind him, his hair blown  by some invisible breeze. She gasped. Her captor pulled her closer and pushed the knife a bit deeper, coming very close to breaking her skin. He faced Josephior directly. “You finally made it here I see. Now you must die," sneered Helevenel.

Soldiers started emerging from the walls in their strange, ethereal way and surrounded Josephior, all of them equally intent on killing him first. They attacked simultaneously, and all Meligander could see through the blur of action was the flashing of Josephior's blade as he quickly dispatched the soldiers. It never failed to surprise her the power that he had within him. Such fierceness against enemies was transformed to tenderness with her, and the realization was awe inspiring every time he came to rescue her.

The last soldier fell to the floor with a sickening thud, and all that remained was Josephior, Meligander, and Helevenel. The two men stared hard at each other, apparently waiting to see who would strike first. Josephior leveled his blade, and suddenly Helevenel lunged at him, drawing his sword, a dark and viciously sharp blade that had surely taken many lives. But before he could withdraw it completely, Josephior struck a powerful death blow and her captor fell to the floor, his body dissipating like smoke in the wind.

It all happened so quickly, Meligander could hardly make sense of it. But what her senses did tell her was that she was back in Josephior's arms, safe and protected for eternity. He scooped her up like a bridegroom carrying his new bride over the threshhold, and they made their way back through the castle, with Josephior stepping over felled bodies the whole way. "The things I do to save you sometimes," he says to his woman.

"I half think you enjoy saving me," smirks Meligander playfully.

"Sometimes. But you know I would do anything for you even if I didn't enjoy it," replied Josephior.

"Now, off we go to reap those rewards you so deserve for the galliant rescue you made today," purred Meligander into her lover's ear as she wrapped her arms more tightly around him.

As they held onto each other during the long ride home, they were silently sharing thoughts of their beautiful future together, and were thereby creating it for themselves. Meligander thought that maybe one day she could rescue Josephior, just as he had saved her so many times. What she didn't realize is that she already had, for any man as magnificent and chivalrous as her Josephior would be diminished without a lady to protect and preserve. With that thought, she let escape the smallest of sighs and nuzzled ever closer, ever closer.