The Crimson Letter
He wasn’t expecting a letter. Kurt Thompson, like most Americans in the early twenties demographic always conversed via emails, texts, or cell phone calls. As usual his punctuality was lacking. With a toothbrush in his mouth and one leg in his khakis Kurt opened the faded brown envelope to reveal a faded letter to match. It was covered in red calligraphy. The young psych major strained his eyes to read the writing so alien in comparison to the illuminated text of his pc screen.
Soon the allure of the unexpected message ebbed and was replaced with the sobering realization that it was only ten minutes until time for his Advanced Child Development class with the head of his department, Dr. Samson. “I suppose this will have to wait until later.” He said dropping the letter on the canopy of old essays and videogame magazines covering his coffee table. Kurt hurriedly pulled his pants on and pulled on yesterday’s semi-smelly rocker tee, returned his toothbrush to the bathroom and ran out the door, but not to his gnome filled suburban lawn.
Kurt stepped out of his front door and into a stone chamber filled with at least twenty men in full armor brandishing various ancient weapons; much like the painting in the waiting hall of his favorite hang-out Medieval Times. There were two that stood out from the others; one in green armor and the other in red. The rest wore tabards of one red or green but their armor was naked steel. “Ok I’ve finally snapped. Dad always told me I sit up too late and play too many video games.” He said as the brawny man in red with a sword on his side approached. Kurt unsure of the intimidating malefactor’s intentions instinctively crept backward. “Welcome young traveler! We have been waiting for you for along time now.”
Kurt was all the more uneasy with this response. “Why would you be waiting for me, and where exactly am I?” The man in red continued his approach. “What you don’t remember sire? Molag’s spell must have been stronger than we feared.” “Aye he doesn’t even resemble his former self. Are you certain this is the king?” The man in green spoke out. “Well it has to be him, for even now he grasps Molag’s letter.” “How did this get here? I left it on the coffee table. I think I’m going to be sick.” Kurt groaned. “Once you touched the letter you activated the runes and returned to us my liege.” The man in red said with a kneel.”Kurt scratched his head nervously. “Well could someone please explain what’s going on here, and could you tell me who you guys are?”
“Forgive me your highness. My zeal for your return has hindered my manners. I am Sir Darian, Protector of your vacant throne. And this is Sir Shual my friend and yours o king. As far as the circumstances of your disappearance, your once trusted seer Molag was secretly plotting to usurp your throne. You discovered his treachery and we accompanied you to the corrupt seer’s chamber only to find that he was ready for us. Molag was seer no more. In his greed he consorted with Darmeg the prince of Fiends who granted him unspeakable power in the dark arts. As we entered the chamber he read aloud from a scroll penned in his own blood. We silenced Molag wit our blades, but not in time to prevent the wicked spell from taking effect. It has taken us years of to determine a means of bringing you home, but at long last you are home!”
This is all just so surreal. This morning I was a simple college student running a little late, and now I am royalty. What if you are making a mistake; how can I be certain that this is not an elaborate psych experiment or a greasy midnight pizza induced dream? “Oh enough of this vain gibber!” With a roar Shual drew his double-edged sword and swung at Kurt with all of his might. It was in this moment a long dormant instinct came over Kurt. He dodged the initial blow of the raging knight and backhanded him in the face. He then plucked away Shual’s mighty sword and placed the point an inch from his bloodied nose.
“Sir Shual, enough of this nonsense! Show a little respect for you king” Kurt roared with more authority and power than he ever knew he possessed. With bright eyes the green knight took a knee and cried “My liege you have truly returned.” In that instant Kurt’s mind opened like a book. He relived in a moment all of the memories of his time as king. “I have returned to you my knights. You have done well in freeing me, but now the real task begins. Darmeg must pay for his wickedness.”