By Germaine Han
After traversing through a forest rife with wild beasts and roots thick enough to be tripping hazards, Tad has finally made it. And he could really use a break.
The tower before him is a muddy, grit-stained gray under the vines snaking over its brick walls. It isn’t the grand sight he hoped for after such a long journey, but Master Fineros did tell Tad to expect the unexpected. This is clearly another bump in the road, nothing more.
Once he rescues Princess… uh, whatever her name is, Tad will be well on his way to becoming a proper, certified hero. And how hard can getting a princess out of a tower truly be?
When he spies a window close to the top of the tower, Tad walks directly below it so he can make himself fully visible. He clears his throat, trying to recall the line he was supposed to deliver. He cups his hands over his mouth. “Princess! Let down your hair!”
This command, of course, wasn’t something that made much sense to him. According to the Hero’s Manual, following the script was a very important step, but what was he meant to do with her hair? Lasso her out of the tower? Tad doesn’t even know how to tie a lasso.
The silence spreads for a little too long, so Tad calls out again. “Hello? I’m here to save you!”
Another moment passes.
“You don’t even have to be a princess,” Tad tries hesitantly.
Something moves in front of the window.
Tad’s pulse quickens. Now, things can go according to plan.
Instead of hair falling out of the tower window like the manual had predicted, it was a good, old-fashioned rope ladder. At last, something easy. Tad scurries up the ladder and climbs into the tower.
“Princess!” Tad exclaims. “I am Tad Paalle, son of—” The rest of his words promptly die on his tongue when he sees the person now hauling up the ladder.
“Princess Marjoram’s long gone, son.” The resident of the tower is a man who looks to be as old as Tad’s father. He rubs the top of his bald head. “She’s probably back in her kingdom learning how to handle royal duties and stuff.”
Oh, so that was her name.
“Uh,” Tad begins, “if Princess Marjoram isn’t here, who does that make you?”
The man moves over to the desk and chair by the wardrobe and takes a seat. “The name’s Joe Enza.”
Tad’s eyes widen. Somehow, the name sounds familiar.
Then, it hits him.
“Wait,” Tad says. “The Joe Enza? One of the most renowned hired heroes of our age, who disappeared on a quest and never returned?”
“Renowned?” Joe raises an eyebrow.
“Of course.” Tad rifles through his pack and pulls out his copy of the Hero’s Manual. He offers it to Joe, who takes it and begins flipping through its pages. “There’s a whole section on you in there.”
Joe traces a paragraph with a finger, a corner of his lips lifting in what could possibly be a smile. He shuts the book and hands it back. “I didn’t disappear. I retired. There’s a difference.”
Retired?
As Tad stuffs the book back into his pack, his mind races. This encounter is more than he could have ever prepared for. First, the princess isn’t here, which means he can’t save her, and that’s kind of a bummer. But… the Joe Enza is in front of him. How many other apprentice heroes can claim to have met such a legend?
Still, like a sign freshly doused in red paint, Joe’s words nag at him.
“Why did you retire?” Tad asks. Why would anyone want to retire from being a hired hero?
Joe shrugs. “I don’t know. It got tiring, I guess. It was one quest after the next, and never any breaks in between, and always having to be prepared to fight and stuff.” His gaze travels beyond Tad and to the window—to the outside world beyond. “And listen, retirement isn’t bad. It just means I stop being a hired hero. Quitting meant I got to start being a hero on my own terms.”
Tad blinks. Was there a difference between a hero who was hired and one who wasn’t?
Joe raises his eyebrows at Tad. “Still, it doesn’t seem like the apprentices have become any more competent since I left the guild.”
Tad’s grip tightens on the straps of his pack. “Coming here was hard enough.”
Joe chuckles. “Maybe.” He reaches over to one side of the desk and picks up a roll of paper. He motions for Tad to approach as he unrolls it, revealing a map.
“Look,” Joe says, “I don’t want you going home and telling everyone that I’m still around and stuff. This hideout’s been real cozy, while it’s lasted. Not a single mouse in sight, too.”
Tad swallows, already preparing for the worst.
“So, I’m going to give you a tip in exchange for your secrecy. See this clearing right here?” Joe taps a point on the map.
Tad nods.
“There’s a princess sleeping here. She’s trapped in a glass coffin, so don’t go opening it and kissing her. That stuff almost never works. Just bring her home to her family—” He indicates a kingdom on a different part of the map—“And you’ll be on your way to getting certified. Problem solved.” He rolls up the map and offers it to Tad.
Tad hesitates, but he takes it.
Joe smiles. “Don’t trust someone like me? I wouldn’t blame you.”
“No, I—” Tad pauses, but it’s true. He’s only just met Joe.
“It’s fine.” Joe gestures to the rope ladder. “Go save the princess, son. You can always come back here if it doesn’t work out.”
“Why would I do that?”
“So I can finish the quest and make sure she gets home.” Joe grins. “It’s what any hero would do.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I was wondering how the Joe Enza character would work in Fantasy Friday. Good job!
This was so fun! I had a feeling something was up when that rope ladder swung down. You never know where good ol’ Joe will end up!
I love that there is an entire section in the Hero’s Manual on Joe Enza! Well done!
What a great take on the traditional fairy tale.
I really enjoyed the portrayal of Joe Enza in this one, and Tad had me laughing out loud. Really creative and a super fun premise!
Enza as a mentor–interesting idea!
That’s awesome, professional hero looks good on Joe Enza. And apparently he knows how to deal with the seven dwarves if it comes down to it 😄
A really good story. I like Joe and Tad a lot – and you made great use of Joe’s character traits.
Aww Tad seems sweet. Great story!