(Copyright Of Kris Rodgers)
(Illustrations by Laura Bath)
Tanglet meets the Shoe.
The shoe had been afflicted on Tanglet over five hundred years ago. It happened
in the vast, bloody battle of Turtle Hill. The Kerangian’s had been pushing their troops forward for the last fifteen months. This was their final offensive, a strategic stronghold, which would finally take the Palace, and win them the war.
But then again, divine intervention can be such a pain in the backside.
Theoretically and strategically the defending army should have been crushed that
day, but it turned out that the God Belle Phore had other plans. Little things started going wrong at first. The troop’s shoelaces would come undone, or their belts would snap, and their trousers would end up round their ankles. Swords, maces, flails, war hammers, iron shields, and other metallic weaponry would suddenly rust and disintegrate. The troops suffered awful toothache. It just got worse and worse.
Until Leviathon arrived.
Leviathon was the Kerangian’s Wizard. Their secret weapon, if you wish. He
brought fear and dread into the hearts of all mortal beings, and his power was immense. A lot of people actually thought of Lethiathon as a myth, or folklore. A tale to be told around old Azle’s fire.
Six hundred and ten dead men disagreed with folklore this day.
And not many would be telling tales.
Tanglet himself lived in awe of Leviathon, and dreamed one day that he could
achieve half his power. Tanglet knew, deep down that he might well meet the wizard in battle at some point. In fact, he had nightmares about it.
‘I have known about this moment for some time young Tanglet,’ Lethiathon shouted.
‘I scry’ He added smugly
A terrible storm was brewing over the battlefield. Leviathon’s long, red hair was
blowing in the wind. One hand holding his staff, and the other rubbing a rune, he looked huge, and seemed to be increasing in size.
‘You know I am no match for your power Lethiathon!’ Tanglet shouted back. ‘You
may as well finish me here, and be done with it!’
‘So be it, young wizard! So be it!’ Lethiathon agreed.
The sky was a swirling reddish brown colour, and the storm was now a brutal mix of
wind, rain, thunder, and lightening. Battle debris was being blown around like feathers in a hurricane. Tanglet was finding it extremely hard to stand properly, let alone fight. He was sure his time had come, and this involved a certain ceremony. To be destroyed by an older, wiser wizard, especially of Lethiathon’s status is an honourable affair. Tanglet held his staff with both hands, brought it to his centreline, and touched the knuckle with his forehead. He mumbled an incantation and then, throwing both arms to the sky, he shouted:
‘BE DONE WITH ME!’
The elderly wizard brought his staff to his centreline, and chanted:
‘Vista, colbort, Safian-kor!’
A massive blue bolt shot out of Lethiathon’s staff and hit Tanglet hard in the chest. At the same time a large yellow semi-circle flashed from Tanglets mid section, and absorbed most of the bolt’s ferocity. His shield rune had protected him, but this didn’t stop the young wizard from being hurled through the air, and landing in a heap behind half a dead general. The bolt had hurt him, and burned a sphere into his chest, but it had not killed him. Tanglet rose to one knee.
‘It was a good shot Sir, but you have failed to kill me,’ he murmured.
The wind blew even harder. Lethiathon walked to the weakened wizard, knelt down,
took his chin, and looked him hard in the eyes.
‘Do you really wish me to finish you without mercy?’ Lethiathon asked.
‘Isn’t that the way Lethiathon? Are they not the rules?’
‘So be it! Foolish boy!’ Lethiathon shouted, walking away.
The old wizard turned his back on Tanglet, raised both arms in the air, and started
chanting once more.
‘Simha! Pathos! Kiun!’
The incantation generated an aura of blue and green light that flickered all around the wizard. Tanglet was aware that the wizard was not only getting physically bigger once again, but was actually beginning to hover as well. He noticed his hand was shaking.
‘AFTA….BOSUN…..CRAYLARA!’ The elderly wizard screamed.
The aura twisted around the floating wizard, and cocooned him in an explosion of
light. The light then seemed to congregate into a very large orb above the wizard’s head, and swirled like a massive ball of fire. Tanglet could feel the energy and warmth from the ball where he was kneeling. He also noticed that the orb was beginning to suck in dead bodies and other debris that littered the ground. It was gaining power. Even the weather was being affected by Lethiathon’s massive spell...The wind was now deafening...Bodies span...The orb became bigger…and brighter…the lightening crashed...Tanglet screamed. Lethiathon’s eyes became black, and finally he let out a harrowing yell...
‘SOMLA! PASTORIA! DECAY!’
The orb sucked in on itself and shot its energy like a bow from an arrow.
Direct hit.
A spell of that ferocity would normally mean an instant death. If not an instant, and painful death, it would most certainly mean a terrible life long curse. In this instance it was the latter.
‘Why is it that I still breathe? What angel has saved me?’ Tanglet moaned, whilst
clutching at his chest.
He noticed Lethiathon standing over him, stroking his beard, and looking slightly
confused.
‘I…I….I just don’t understand it’ He stammered.
‘What happened?’ Tanglet asked.
‘You have cursed me haven’t you? What foul future have I to look forward to?’
Tanglet cried.
‘I seem to have cursed you, yes. It wasn’t quite what I was expecting either. I meant to kill you. So sorry about that, but the spell seems to have gone a little…er… wrong,’ the wizard tried to explain.
‘Wrong? What do you mean wrong? You are the most deadly bloody wizard in this
land. How could one of your spells go…wrong?’ Tanglet asked, whilst climbing to his feet.
‘Beats me,’ the elderly wizard replied.
‘Strange,’ Tanglet said, while making sure all his bits were still in the right places.
‘Then what exactly DID it do?’
‘Er….it seems to have given life to……your shoe,’ he said, pointing at the nine and
a half.
‘My shoe!? Tanglet started. ‘Well I never! Wizardry isn’t what it used to be is it!? I was expecting blood from the ears for life, or a plague of locusts that eat out my eyes, and nest in the sockets! A talking shoe?! Ha ha! What are you going to do next? Make my hair go curly!?’ Tanglet shouted smugly. ‘Well then, let’s meet this talking shoe shall we?’
Tanglet looked down at his feet, with his hands held firmly on his hips. His tutor
used to maintain this posture whilst ridiculing some poor unfortunate spotty child at spell school. It oozed a sarcastic authority.
‘Well ooo’s a likkle wikkle shoey woo then?’ Tanglet asked in his most sarcastic,
patronising baby voice.
The shoe yawned… waited for a second ……and then replied…
‘Bog off you fat Barold.’
It was only ten minutes later that Tanglet was witnessed shouting and waving his
finger viciously at his right foot. Lethiathon had to be escorted from the battlefield in fits of laughter. The war had been lost, but he could now die a very happy wizard, which he promptly did that night. Rumour has it that his last words as he lay dying consisted of ‘shoe’ ‘funniest bloody thing I have ever seen’ and ‘ow’. Tanglet had lived with the curse on and off for over four hundred years now. It appeared when it felt like appearing, and reasoned with no man. It was a living, breathing entity unto itself. Chewing gum stuck on a yeti is easier to get rid of, and that isn’t easy as no one has even found a yeti yet. Not round these parts anyway.
Even when the shoe wasn’t possessed, it would always find a way to be sitting on Tanglets right foot when the time came…sneering and jaunting. It
was immortal, and very smart indeed. Tanglet loathed it, and the shoe knew just how to push all the right buttons.
‘I wish you would wash your feet once in a while Barold. You stink,’ the shoe
sneered.
Tanglet pulled a bit of shoelace from his back molar, and sighed.
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