The Plucky Paws Guild Issue #10

There! He had said it! The truth was out, and could never be taken back. Nor, if truth be told, did Theo wish that he could take it back. While a part of his spirit sank at the thought that his shame was known, an even larger part of him felt relief that his terrible secret no longer cankered his soul.

The large warrior remained silent as they continued walking on the trail. The tension built, and Theo thought he would be unable to hear Reginald’s response over the pounding of his heart. Reginald was probably attempting to rein in his outrage at his companion's failure, the young mage mused.

“What was that, Theo?” Reginald inquired in a soft voice, leaning in to be closer to the smaller raccoon.

“I’m a coward,” the wizard repeated. “I didn’t save the band. I almost let you die!”

Reginald slowed his long steps to keep pace with Theo and looked at him, pondering. “And how is it that you arrive at the conclusion that you are a coward and endangered us all? It was your spell that allowed us to see our foes and even rob them of their strength. Furthermore, after I struck the head off the foul knight and the battle ended, I turned and noted you were holding a large rock and summoning your arcane energies. I can only assume you had planned to launch the rock at the steed with some force. That would have worked well, I think. I remember thinking at the time that had Brother Fulce not struck the fell creature down, you’re rock surely would have destroyed it. Our blades were not as effective against them, but the priest’s blessed mace or a rock empowered by your skills were much more deadly. That was quick thinking for sure.”

Theo blushed from the warrior’s praise. But then the memories of his panic smothered any pleasure he may have felt. “But no, you're wrong.”

“Oh?” Reginald asked, raising an eyebrow in question. “You were just lifting a rock for the fun of it? In the middle of a pitch battle with the undead? That seems like an odd thing for a coward to be doing.”

Theo grimaced. “No…of course I was not holding the rock for fun. But that’s not the point!”

“What is the point then?”

“I panicked! I was useless as the battle progressed. I only cast the light spell because I couldn’t see what was going on. I thought I needed to have a better view of things before I acted.”

“Seems sensible to me,” the giant raccoon said.

“Yes, but afterwards,” Theo continued, trying to make the warrior understand. “Afterwards, when I could see… see the madness of the battle…see the foul creatures you and Sylvan were fighting. I just wanted to flee, I just wanted to run away.”

“Again,” Reginald said, nodding. “Seems sensible to me.”

“Wait! What?” Theo stammered. “I’m not explaining it right. I mean…I panicked, Reginald. I totally, utterly panicked. I stood…well, truth be told, at first I just lay there shocked by the violence, wanting to curl up, and just have it all go away. The terror was so strong.”

“And then what did you do?” Reginald asked gently.

“I, well, I stood up, but then I stood there trying to think of something to do, but my brain was not cooperating.”

“And then what did you do?”

“Well, I thought of the rock thing because Melodus’s blade did not seem to be harming the undead knight.”

“And that was well done,” Reginald said.

“But Fulce struck the beast down, not me.”

“And had he not,” the warrior commented, maintaining his steady pace on the path. “Moments later, I suspect your rock would have done just as well. You may have even destroyed the steed and the knight, taking both down in one blow! That would have been greedy of you! Leaving nothing for me!” He laughed at his jest.

“But Reginald,” the mage protested. “I felt nothing but fear when I saw those creatures! I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run.”

“Ah,” Reginald said, leaning in close to the mage. “I felt that fear, too. I suspect they radiated a foul magical aura…but in truth, even without magic, they were fearsome creatures. They made my blood run cold!”

“But,” Theo protested. “You’re brave! You fought furiously! Surely you were not afraid.”

Reginald laughed long and hard in response. His kind, jovial cheer echoing from the tree tops. The other raccoons looked at him and shrugged as they continued the march.

“Oh, my fine, young friend,” he gently chided. “Did you think bravery is the absence of fear?”

“Well, of course,” Theo replied. “What else would it be. Why all the stories, all the songs say-”

Reginald stopped him with a gesture, cutting him off. “Ah, the bards. Yes, Theo, the bards do love to talk of bravery. They paint a pretty picture, don’t they? Far be it from me to tell them how to do their jobs. But Theo, Theo, my good friend, songs and stories are just that.” He gestured to the air around them, “Songs and stories.”

“What do you mean?” Theo asked, confused.

“Just that, they are pretty stories. No one is ever as handsome or brave or bold or whatever in real life. The mistrels gild it all! They paint pretty pictures with words. Yes! Paintings!” He was excited now as he discovered how to explain things better to the young mage. “Your father is a very successful merchant, is he not?”

“Well, yes, but how did you know that? I never mentioned it.”

“Of course not, my good friend,” he said, patting Theo on the back. “You are far too humble a raccoon to brag of your family’s wealth. But I did not grow up in a cave. Even as a simple blacksmith of Puandew, I heard of the Goldspinner Mercantile Family. I believe much of the grain that came to Paundew was from your business.”

Theo winced. Talk of his family’s wealth and success always made him uncomfortable. “Well, yes, but that’s my father’s success. That’s not me. I chose a different path.”

“Oh, no, of course not! I did not mean to imply such. I’m sure there was heartache in the Goldspinner home the day you announced your choice, but that is a story for another day. I did not mean to bring this up to discomfort you, my friend. I wanted to make a point. I would imagine your father has commissioned a portrait of himself. Most successful merchants seem to do this.”

“Yes,” Theo admitted, again embarrassed by the direction the conversation had taken.

“And,” Reginald continued. “Not to disrespect your father in any way, for I have heard he is a fair and generous master, but was the portrait truly accurate? To his true form, I mean”

Theo laughed without meaning to. “Yes, if you minus 10 pounds and gave him a heroic chin.”

“Exactly!” Regional shouted, startling the other travelers in the band. “This is what I speak of! We want our paintings to reflect beauty, to reflect an ideal version of our lives, do we not?”

“Yes,” Theo nodded, finally understanding what the warrior was trying to tell him. “And so we do the same with ballads and stories?”

“Most assuredly, my learned friend. Oh, I do not discount their worth. I love a good ballad as much as the next raccoon. But Theo, they are not true to life. They are idealized versions of how we want life to be. A pretty picture, nothing more.”

“I understand,” Theo said. “And I do see what you mean. But Reginald! I felt such fear. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life!”

“Oh, so you have had many violent encounters with rotted creatures raised from the dead by fell necromantic arts?” the warrior asked with a smile.

“No,” Theo smiled back. “Of course not, but-”

“But nothing, Theo. You are wrong to equate bravery with the absence of fear. The absence of fear is stupidity, my friend. Pure stupidity. You show me a woodland creature that is not full of fear at such a gruesome sight as you had this night, and I’ll show you someone without wits!” Reginald laughed again in good humor.

“Well, if that is true, what is bravery then?” Theo asked. “Is it just a pretty lie painted by the minstrels?”

“Of course not, my young mage.” Reginald laid his hand on Theo’s shoulder a second time. “Bravery is simply doing the right thing, in the face of fear. And you, Theo-” he paused, staring into the smaller raccoon's eyes. “You, Theo, did the right thing, despite your fear. That, my good friend, was bravely done!”

Theo thought on the warrior’s kindly words and marveled at their wisdom. It made sense, it did make sense to him. Perhaps, perhaps he was brave after all!

“Besides, the first battle is always the hardest,” Reginald continued, gently cuffing the smaller raccoon. “You’ll do better in your next battle. The first time is such a shock to the very soul! Everything is moving so fast. Everything is so urgent and violent. We are not naturally made for such things, I think.”

“You are quite the warrior philosopher,” Theo said in praise.

“Do you think so?” Reginald beamed, smiling at the compliment. “Speaking of first times, you should have seen me at my first true battle! It was with the foul alley cat, old Tom Longclaw! Ha! The bards would have required buckets of paint to make me look regal that day, I tell you!”

Theo laughed along with Reginald, his shame vanishing like the darkness around them as the sun rose above the treeline. “Truly? I would love to hear it!”

“Another day, Theo. Perhaps another day. I think I see the outpost ahead. I don’t know about you, but I long for hot food and rest!”

Yes, Theo thought, feeling so much lighter than before, that sounded very good indeed!

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