Chapter 1 - "Prophesy"

Chiron the centaur closed the chamber door behind them.  His hooves clacked softly on the pale marble floor as he strode slowly towards the others.  Here stood a handful of persons, some of the most influential individuals in Fantasia.  They had been summoned here, to the Ivory Tower, and had waited in the antechambers of the Childlike Empress herself.  They had waited for long hours for Chiron, the Childlike Empress’ personal physician to return with his diagnosis.

Rumors about an ailment having stricken the Childlike Empress had spread through Fantasia like wildfire.  The stories ranged from the mundane, that she had simply caught the flu, to whispers of a great curse, and the coming of another blight on the land.  Whatever it was, the most shocking news was that the Childlike Empress had taken ill at all.

Chiron’s face was low.  Bastian Balthazar Bux, one of Fantasia’s two great heroes, was the first to speak.

“Chiron, what’s happened?”

“The Childlike Empress has been stricken with a most insidious sickness.  For reasons that neither magic nor medicine can understand...”

Atreyu, Fantasia’s other savior, snapped, “What’s happening?”

“... the Childlike Empress is aging.”

**********

As Bastian grew in the real world, he began visiting Fantasia less and less often.  This worried no one, though, since by now his stories of the land had reached far and wide, spurring a new burst of imagination, the stuff that Fantasia was made of.

With the surge in new peoples and new lands being added to the story of Fantasia, the Childlike Empress’ advisors appointed a protector for her, a warrior who would safeguard the well-being of the one person who held the land together.

They named Atreyu, the warrior, the hunter of the purple buffalo, to be the Imperial Protector.  He was known as the Empress’ Hand.

To the Childlike Empress, however, Atreyu was best friend, playmate, and most trusted advisor.  Though still the magical center around which Fantasia itself turned, the Childlike Empress found plenty of time to enjoy the simplest pleasures of life in the enchanted land.  She and Atreyu spent long afternoons playing hide-and-seek among the tall grasses of his homeland, or strolling through the massive garden mazes at the foot of the Ivory Tower.

Atreyu was rarely absent from her side, and although she was a part of every individual in Fantasia, the young warrior was the only person capable of breaking through her ethereal personality and spark a most magical laughing fit.

Now, the Empress’ Hand stood helpless, longing for a foe to stare down and battle.  He knew little of magic or science, but he knew the Childlike Empress’ affliction was no accident.  Atreyu was allowed into her chambers.

The door swung open noiselessly, and Atreyu entered cautiously.  He saw the Childlike Empress laying silently on her large, canopied bed, her eyes closed.  To most eyes, she seemed completely peaceful, her breathing deep and even, her dark ringlets fanned out on the plush pillows.  But Atreyu knew her better than anyone else.  He could see she’d grown several inches taller, and her features had taken on sharper, more mature lines.  She was just as breathtakingly beautiful as always, but she was the Childlike Empress.

She wasn’t supposed to age.

Atreyu took a few more steps, and the Childlike Empress sprung upright.  She gazed at him as if she’d never been asleep.

“Atreyu!  Thank goodness it’s you!  I don’t think I could stand any more of Chiron’s prodding.”

A wry smile touched the warrior boy’s lips.  Everyone else in Fantasia may see her as a magical, ethereal child-woman, but not him.  Around Atreyu, she was simply MoonChild.

“Empress,” he said, giving a slight bow, “how are you feeling?”

“You’re worried Atreyu.  I can tell-- you’re calling me ‘Empress.’  I am as well as can be expected.”

“Do the changes... hurt?”

She opened her mouth, then thought.  “Yes, a little.  Although I must admit it is a fascinating experience.”  MoonChild smiled, and the room seemed twice as bright.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Atreyu said, shaking his head.

MoonChild gestured him forward, and he sat on the edge of her bed, something her advisors would have fainted at the sight of.  She patted his hand.  “You can do what you have always done.  Be my friend and my guidance.”

**********

Hours later, Atreyu and the Childlike Empress stood side-by-side as one of her Viziers struggled to open a huge, dusty book.  Slowly, he paged through the illuminated leaves until finding the one he wanted.

“Ah!  Ah!  Here we are, here we are...” he muttered.  Finally, the Vizier pointed to one of the passages.  Both Atreyu and the Childlike Empress leaned over to look.

Atreyu shook his head.  “I can’t read it.  I’ve never seen this kind of writing.”

“I can only make out a few words,” said the Childlike Empress.  The Vizier and Atreyu suddenly looked at her.  She nodded.  “I know-- that should not be happening, either, but it is.  I believe this is some sort of prediction.”

“That is correct, Your Highness.  This prophesy is from the same source which predicted the coming of both your Imperial Protector and the hero from the Outer World, Bastian.”

The young warrior shifted, visibly uncomfortable with any measure of reverence.  “So this prophesy says something about what has been happening to the Childlike Empress?”

The Vizier nodded vigorously.  “You are correct, hero.  It speaks of the realm of Fantasia undergoing a change-- a maturing-- not unlike the change of a bud into a bloom.”

“And this maturation of the realm has come to be reflected in me physically?”  The Childlike Empress stood thinking, biting her lower lip.  It was a habit Atreyu was familiar with, but now seemed incongruous with the adolescent before him.  He was comforted by the fact that her voice retained its sweet, clear tones, colored with a delicate accent.

“That is my belief, Your Highness.”

“Is there a way to reverse it?” asked Atreyu.

“No,” the Vizier replied, “the process is a natural, necessary occurrence.  However, there is more to the prophesy to be fulfilled.  If not, the realm will lose the childlike innocence which fuels its imagination.”

“Without which Fantasia will be without defense against the darker, violent aspects of imagination.”  The Childlike Empress’ expression was solemn.  “What must be done.”

The Vizier faltered.  “Ah... It seems that a quest must be undertaken, but its purpose and direction are not completely clear.”

The Childlike Empress turned to Atreyu, who stepped forward without hesitation.  “Tell me what I must do.”

“You must travel beyond the Great Forest’s borders to the realm of the Rock Chewers.  There, among their massive granite mountains, you must seek out and scale the highest of the spires.  It is not the end of the quest, but there is no further instructions to be found here.”

“Very well.”

“One last thing, Protector.”

“Yes?”

The older man hesitated a moment.  “You must take the Childlike Empress with you.”

They stood in shock.  “Out of the question,” Atreyu snapped.   “The journey is far too dangerous.  She has never been beyond the walls of the Ivory Tower.”

“I am capable of more than you know, Atreyu,” said the Childlike Empress irritatedly.  She turned to the Vizier.  “What is my role in the quest?”

“The prophesy does not say.  It merely specifies that you must accompany the Imperial Protector in order to discover the true nature of the quest.”

“Then we leave at first light.”

“Empress, you can’t really intend...”

“I most certainly do intend, Atreyu.  I will see you in the morning.”

The Vizier jumped from his seat.  “There is a final detail.”

“What?” asked the Childlike Empress.

Without another word, the Vizier produced a long, sharp pin from his sleeve and scratched at the Childlike Empress’ exposed arm.  A few tiny droplets of crimson blood welled up at the site.  In a flash, Atreyu leapt over the table, grasping the Vizier’s hands.  Twisting, the older man jabbed the pin into Atreyu’s arm.  The two young people were frozen.

“What in all of Fantasia are you doing?” shouted Atreyu.  “How dare you attack the Childlike Empress?!”

“I am sorry,” the Vizier said, “truly sorry.  But this was necessary.  For you both to undertake the quest, the prophesy demands that you both must undergo the same trial.”

“Meaning what?”

Calmly, the Childlike Empress placed a hand on Atreyu’s shoulder.  “You are to share my fate.  You will change-- grow older, as I am doing.”

Atreyu was about to reply when the pain lanced through his stomach like a knife.  He doubled over in agony for a moment, then mercifully lost consciousness.

TO BE CONTINUED...