Welcome to Cheechi's Place

By: Lisa Anne Hetu

Disclaimer: All the characters in this story are fictional, however most of them have been named after real people.

The wind blew gently across the land. After all the wars and destruction so many changes hit the lives of every creature and plant in this land, but still the wind was unchanged. The wind was one of the few things that survived the changes. The wind was always there, whether in motion or not, but it was always there. No matter what happened the wind always gave the elves a sense of peace and coolness. It gave the dwarves' happiness and laughter when it stole the hats from their heads and made them chase it. It gave the humans power to use their windmills and a pleasant feeling when it rushed through their hair. Yes, the wind was noble and free; it was always in the same place but it wasn't, it hid sometimes but it was always there; no one could catch it or hold it but they could feel it just the same; it was gentle but it was strong; and it was one of the principal elements of life.

The royal elf, Lady Anne of Great Big Castle, stood overlooking Centaur Valley. A tear rolled down her cheek as the wind rustled through her hair. She remembered the way the valley used to be; lush, green and beautiful. This is where the dazzling centaurs lived and played and where flowers were many. The birds would sing while hidden in the brush and the sun seemed to always shine while the grass swayed in the breeze. Anne stared at the dark, desolate space that had once been Centaur Valley. The grass had long been dried out and the valley was no longer green. No centaurs or birds populated the dusty plains and the sun just wasn't the same. The few trees that stood on the barren land were old and dying. Tears dripped from the Lady's face and she turned her head abruptly, her golden brown hair flying behind her; she couldn't bare to look any longer.

Now, her back turned from the sight, the Lady Anne, put her hands over her face and sobbed, slowly falling to her knees in the grass. So many of her closest friends had died in the war that had turned Centaur Valley into a dry and dusty pit. Her father King Robert II had been killed defending the elven soldiers in his flank. King Robert lost his life mainly to save the Great Big warrior Sir Alan who was Anne's most beloved companion. Anne, gathering her wits about her, rose from the grass and began to walk slowly back to the gray stoned castle that was located about a mile due east of the valley. She was only about ten paces started on her way home when she heard a desperate cry calling to her.

"Anne! Look out!" cried the frantic knight. He had been watching her from the trees that were only a few paces out of her reach. Then a horrendous sound from behind her made Anne turn back toward the desolate valley and she came face to face with a monstrous red beast.

Anne had barely enough time to glance in horror at the gigantic, red dragon before it snatched her up in its enormous talons and took to the sky carrying her away from the frightened warrior. Holding her firmly in its massive paw, the dragon flew swiftly through the air slapping the wind with every downward stroke of its immense wings. Anne let out a high-pitched scream of terror as she saw Sir Alan dive for her and hit the ground hard as he missed.

Alan leapt to his feet and took a few steps to the extreme edge of the cliff. A few tiny pebbles rolled down into the valley below and he watched helplessly as the dragon flew farther and farther away. He could see the already torn rim of the Lady's light blue dress and sandled feet dangling from the dragon's grip. The brown-haired knight couldn't save his friend, nor did he know what to do now; he could only watch the dragon carry her off, his heart growing heavier as the red dragon became more distant. Alan's hands clenched at his sides and his eyes filled with tears for the loss of the Lady Anne. He dropped to his knees helplessly, and he threw back his head and raised his fists before him, and he shouted her name in a howling echo that spread over the barren valley.

Alan raced toward Great Big Castle not even thinking about the noise his feet made as he ran across the leafy forest floor. His breath came in steady beats with the pace of his bounding steps. At the speed he was running, Sir Alan made the village only a quarter of an hour later; half the time it took going the opposite way. The knight was almost out of breath by the time he reached the castle. Staggering across the castle throne room, he collapsed in front of the newly appointed King, the powerful King Darrell, while the lords and ladies of the King's court stared at him in shock, wondering why he was in such a panic. A few of Alan's fellow warriors pushed through the assembled nobles to get some answers.

"Anne - been taken away - by red dragon" Sir Alan managed between breaths. His chest heaved in and out as he spoke, still sprawled in front of the King, his face matted with sweaty brown hair, but he managed to lift himself to his knees. "Must find her - save her" he continued, speaking quickly, a look of desperation in his eyes.

The lords and ladies listened intensively as the knight tried to explain through exhausted breaths. "Was watching Anne - dragon grabbed her - couldn't reach her - was too late" he choked out.

Alan sat there with his head down and tried to catch his breath, and the whole time he could sense the people of the King's court staring at him, confused as they whispered to themselves, filling the throne room with an eerie buzzing sound.

Finally Sir Sean, the captain of the knights, spoke up. "We must search for Anne, even if only to bury her remains. With pardon to your majesty, King Darrell, King Robert II was a good king and he would have wanted at least that for his daughter. Do the Great Big Knights have your majesty's blessing for this task?" said Sir Sean.

Sir Alan lifted his head suddenly and stared at the captain of the knights. "Anne is NOT dead" he scolded his friend and commanding officer.

The court was surprised at the enraged tone in his voice. Sir Alan stood up slowly and faced the gathered knights, ready and determined. "King Robert indeed would have wanted for his knight's to under-take of this task." King Darrell said, finally deciding to speak, "As King Robert was a dear brother to me, I also wish for my knight's to under-take of this task. I give you my blessing to take only the knight's you require and, Sir Sean, as always, you are in command."

Soon the knight's were armed and ready. Sir Alan, who was the knight with a special talent for talking to animals, raised his voice to the sky in a call that sounded much like an eagle. After a few minutes, large creatures flew over the castle walls; their head, front paws and wings were like those of an eagle and the furry body, tail and hind legs like that of a lion. Two at a time the griffins landed heavily on their strong hind quarters, leaving a gentler landing for their eagle-like front paws. Two at a time the warriors, lead by Sir Sean and Sir Alan, climbed aboard the flyers and took to the sky. Alan usually enjoyed the wind in his face, but at the moment his only thought was that he must save the Lady Anne. He prayed they would find her in time.

The mountain stood tall; it reached for the sky. The dismal grayish-brown of the rocks made the world seem lost in a dull blur. The mountain became closer and closer until the red dragon could no longer fly towards it and therefore changed its course into an ascending vertical direction. Soon the dragon came to a halt and landed in front of a large cavern entrance. The dragon let out a short effortless roar to announce its arrival at the mountain. Still clutching Anne fairly tightly, the beast stood waving its gigantic tail from side to side quite slowly, dragging it on the ground.

Not long thereafter, a smaller dragon, pulling a barred cart emerged from the darkness of the cavern's grand front entrance. This dragon was black, and only half the size of the red one, just the right size to escort prisoners into the mountain. The giant red lifted Anne from the ground and dropped her into the top of the cart, sealing it afterwards. The small black wyrm then walked back into the cavern, pulling its new cargo along with it. Anne just caught a glimpse of the red dragon taking flight before the darkness of the cave swallowed her up.

Anne was taken into the damp-looking tunnel, being pulled on squeaky wheels. Soon her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. The only lights in the tunnel were small torches lined in rows along the wall. Anne knew she had little hope of ever escaping the dark fortress, and as she was dragged through the tunnels, wondered who or what she would meet at the other end.

The tunnel was large and long. Tiny drips could be heard in the distance; this was an eerie sound as it echoed through the silent cavern that led who knew where. The only other noise was the squeaking of the cart and the slithery steps of the little black dragon. Minutes seemed like decades to the frightened prisoner, but finally the tunnel broke into a large cavity where more torches burned quietly along the wall. Here the black dragon was aided by a pair of ogres who took Anne out of the cart and threw her carelessly into a jail cell, slamming the door behind them and locking her in.

Anne sat up in her cell and looked around miserably. The floor was covered with old, damp straw and the rock walls seemed damp and cold. There was one torch inside the cell but it was clamped firmly to the rocks so as not to be used as an escape method. There were no windows except for the tiny barred one in the rusted metal door. Anne stood up and felt around the room as if she were blind trying to gather herself together. Finding nothing more to do, she sat in the corner on the damp straw, wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.

Meanwhile, outside the castle, the two green dragons who guarded the entrance were having problems. Some intruder was taunting them while hidden behind the mountain rocks. The intruder called out to them, making fun of them, and pointed out his location without showing his face, yet again. The green dragons once again scrambled to the hiding place and once again found nothing. Seconds after, the invisible intruder showed his new hiding place that every time had been almost directly behind them. Soon the great lizard-like creatures became tired of this game and gave up. The hidden intruder called out in a roar of triumph. This yell was also a signal that sent a colossal flying beast upon the dragons. The larger, more powerful, silver dragon landed with an angry roar sending liquid ice dancing over the entire cavern entrance. Now the cavern entrance stood glossy and frozen, as well as the rocks around it. The greens too had not escaped the silver dragon's icy breath; now they stood frozen solid like glassy statues guarding the frozen gate for eternity. The dragon thought this to be a wonderful welcome to the mountainous cave, and, with a humored smile at his hoax, disappeared once more into the beautiful sky of blue.

As the evil green wyrms were no longer able to stop him, the strong and cunning minotaurian warrior emerged from his final hiding place and removed the battle axe from its holster across his back. With it, he chopped his way through the iced wooden doors of the mountainous castle. The axe was very large and heavy, but, matched with the minotaur's size and strength, it created a fatal weapon. This axe was a mighty weapon indeed because it had been forged by a notorious dwarf and blessed by the war god Carboneer, making it indestructible and the oldest dwarven-made weapon in the world. The blade was made of iron and silver, and the handle was carved from the wood of an old strong tree in the pine-clad hills; the symbol of Carboneer was carved in full detail onto the bottom of the handle. The carrier of the axe was said to be the blood-descendant of the gods. However, since many years past this messenger of the gods and protector of all had not been seen until now.

This particular minotaur was the largest of his kind; he towered over eight feet tall, an entire foot taller than most common minotaurs. He was stronger and faster than the average minotaurian warrior. His face was stern but his eyes had a certain sparkle to them that made him seem the most gentle being on the planet under a strong and durable warrior of an exterior. His sleek brown coat shone like gold in the sun, and his plain tattered loin cloth was barely comparable to the dazzling metal wrist cuffs or hanging silver dragon scale that hung around his neck. This silver dragon scale was the symbol of the dragon / god alliance - a reminder to all dragons that they were forever under his service.

The minotaur chopped at the cavern door with his axe, and the muscles in his legs and arms bulged from the strength of his blows. Finally, the last of the frozen wood broke away from the large hinges and the warrior put his legendary axe back in it's holster across his back. The axe bounced slightly against him as he ran down the dark tunnel; it seemed he knew exactly where he was going and why he was going there. Very soon he reached the large room where many prisoners were being held, yet none of them were of the same race or kind. Quickly and quietly he went to the far end of the room securing the largest door with two small boulders he found in the cave. Then, taking a torch from the wall, the minotaur peered into all the prison cells, one by one.

Anne was sitting quietly in the corner of her cell when she saw the largest and most fearful of warriors peer into the dark room. Slowly she got up and walked over to the door, curiosity rising inside her. Even in the darkness his eyes sparkled with a warm feeling that Anne seemed to trust. "Are you the maiden called Anne?" he asked softly but sternly.

"Yes, I am she" Anne replied in a tiny voice.

"Step back from the door and run out quickly as soon as you can" he replied backing away from the window out of her sight.

Suddenly the door came crashing down like a domino, except that it made a much louder noise; the minotaur had charged at it with his massive horns and thick- boned head. Anne darted for the door and ran through the tunnel as quickly as she could. She didn't look behind her, but was baffled by her rescue. She wondered about this minotaur and wanted to ask him many questions, but she kept running through the tunnel, not daring to slow down. Anne could hear her rescuer directly behind her; his breath was slow and steady in rhythm with hers. Anne slowed to a stop when she reached the outside of the castle and starred around in shock. Such gigantic dragon bodies all encased in a crystalline shell of ice and frost. "Don't worry about them Anne, they were in my way." said the warrior in a deep and yet somehow cocky voice.

"But how, mighty warrior? Surely you haven't done this yourself." said Anne, wondering.

"Most definitely not, fair lady, it was the work of a dragon" said the minotaur with a smirk.

The mysterious minotaur led Anne to a tiny cave hidden deep in the forest. It was very well hidden; no dragon could find it from the sky, therefore they were pretty much safe. Anne looked at the colossal beast curiously, "Why am I not going home?" she asked.

"It is not yet safe" the minotaur replied simply.

"Why was I taken to that place anyway?" Anne asked.

"You were meant to have been put to death," said the minotaur, "Unlike the other captives, which had been caged for collection purposes, you were to be destroyed."

"But who would ever want to do that?" Anne asked.

"Your Uncle, the all-powerful King Darrell was afraid to loose his place on the throne, and wanted you dead so you and any possible children of yours would never be able to lay claim to the throne of Great Big Castle. You are the last of your side of the family in a line-up of elven rulers, and now that King Darrell believes you disposed of, he can easily be over-thrown."

Anne contemplated this for a moment, but was reluctant to believe that her uncle Darrell, who had been so kind to her when she was a child, wanted her dead because of greed to rule in her place. "How do you plan to over-throw my uncle from the throne?" Anne asked, still uncertain of the truth in the warrior's words, "Come to think of it, how do you know all this in the first place? And what is your name?"

"My name is Bernard-Patrick" said the creature, "And I know all this because of my alliance with the dragons."

Bernard-Patrick held out the dragon scale that hung around his neck. "Dragons told me all I needed to know, and they told your friend, Sir Alan what he knows as well. Why do you think Alan has such a great ability to talk to all animals like no other elf can?"

Anne didn't reply, but looked puzzled, waiting for the minotaur to continue.

"He knows how to speak with animals because I taught him," Bernard said, "And when he discovered King Darrell's deceit, he called upon the great silver dragons to come to his aid. Unfortunately, they are forbidden to interfere in such trivial events, so they appealed to me to take their place."

"Sir Alan discovered all this? Then why didn't he just tell me?"

"It would have risked his knowledge being spilled," Bernard said, "It was safer to just keep a close eye on you until things got out of hand ... and things just got out of hand."

"You still haven't explained how you plan to defeat my uncle's tyranny" Anne reminded the minotaur.

"All we need do is wait for Alan and the other elven guards of your castle," Bernard said, "You need not concern yourself with anything further."

Sir Alan and Sir Sean were nearing the mountain where the great red dragon had taken the Lady Anne, when suddenly the griffons were intercepted by a small silver bird. Such a bird had never been seen anywhere before, and Alan knew right away that this bird was not really a bird. Still flying on the back's of the flying creatures, Alan cooed a message to the fluttering bird ahead. After it responded in a twittering squawk, Alan turned to his long-time friend and captain of the guards. "Sean, we must follow this bird" Alan said, "It will lead us to Anne; she is safe with a friend."

Sean twisted himself atop the griffin to face the fleet behind him. "Follow us!" he called to his troops, and the griffins all dove in perfect formation, following the descent of the little silver bird.

The griffins landed in a forest clearing, one by one, stopping only to let their rider dismount before taking off into the sky once more, leaving space for their companions. The little silver bird perched itself atop Sir Alan's shoulder and cooed in his ear. "What is it saying?" Sir Sean asked.

"Nothing to me" Alan said, "She's calling the great warrior, messenger of the war god Carboneer, Bernard-Patrick."

"Why would the great warrior be involved in this?" Sean asked.

"Because I am needed to protect all the Great Big Knights in your time of struggle." said the great minotaur emerging from his hiding place.

"Bernie, my friend" Sir Alan greeted him, "Where is Anne? Is she alright?"

"The Lady is fine" Bernard said, moving aside a group of vines to reveal Anne.

"Alan! It's you, you came for me!" Anne cried out excitedly, and ran into Alan's arms.

"Fine, we've saved the Princess, now I'd like an explanation." Sir Sean said, "What is this time of struggle that you're ranting about?"

"The King is a tyrant, and he must be stopped." Bernard stated simply.

"His majesty, King Darrell? What manor of foolishness is this?"

"Bernie speaks the truth my friend" Alan said, holding Anne close to him, "I've known for quite some time now that King Darrell intended to take the throne, and it looks like he's won."

"No, as long as Anne is alive the throne belongs to her. The prophecy will be fulfilled, I will see to it." Bernard said, "Now, here is what I propose we do..."

The throne room doors opened, cutting the chatter of the nobles into silence as all turned their heads. Sir Alan's body was brought in by four Great Big Knight's, being held high in a procession of honor. Sir Sean, holding the Lady Anne by the wrist, led the procession right up to the King's throne where all the knight's knelt before their king. "Your majesty, we have saved the princess, but our efforts have resulted in tragedy. Sir Alan is dead, sire." Sir Sean reported.

The king slowly came down from his throne. "My dear Anne, I'm so glad that you are safe. The royal court would have been so empty without you." he said, trying his hardest to sound sincere, "It is such a shame all couldn't have ended in happiness. What manner of evil creature would have you taken away and cause the death of this man? What a terrible waste."

Anne said nothing, but allowed herself to be hugged by her uncle.

"Sire, I'm surprised" Sir Sean said, "I never would have thought you'd take the death of King Robert's finest knight so casually."

"Must you always remind me of my brother? King Robert was a fool and he died for it. Everything has a purpose and his death gave me the throne; that's all that matters now."

"Couldn't have said it better myself" Alan said, getting up from his false funeral pyre and drawing his sword. "I shall have to agree with you though, everything does have a purpose ... you're gaining the throne, for instance, has shown the Great Big Knights your intentions. You started the war that killed King Robert, you organized for the Lady Anne to be kidnapped and destroyed, and you planned to rule Great Big Castle completely. Well, I'll have no more of you're tyranny; stand down tyrant or see the end of your days."

All the Great Big Knights followed suit, drawing their swords against King Darrell and his court. The king was taken aback, but refused to be defeated. Grabbing Lady Anne by the arm, he retreated to his throne. "My plan has not failed yet," he threatened, "I shall kill Anne myself, and not one of you can stop me. Guards, cease the Great Big Knight's and have them all thrown into exile."

An army of the king's personal guards swarmed the tiny force of elven knights. Blocking the Great Big Knight's with spears, swords and shields, Alan was powerless to stop the king from taking Anne again. "No! Anne, I love you" Alan called out, trying with all his might to break through the wall of elves to save her.

Anne's lips shivered slightly, and her eyes glazed over with tears. Alan's voice had taken away her fear. Without saying anything, the look in her eyes told Alan that she loved him back and she wanted nothing more than to run into his arms. A few tiny moments seemed like an eternity of torture, and as Alan continued to struggled against the king's guards, he ached to wrap his arms around Anne's body and never let her go. A lump grew in his throat, and Alan felt a sense of loss, knowing that if Anne was taken away he'd never see her again, and would never be able to protect her from harm. He felt as if he had utterly failed King Robert, the only ruler he had ever trusted.

King Darrell then opened a trap door behind his throne with the intention of escaping with the Princess, but Bernard-Patrick was there to stop him.

"Your tyranny ends here elf" the great minotaur scolded, blocking the king's escape.

King Darrell was frightened. Never before had he seen such a colossal minotaur, and the shadows from the tunnels made the beast seem all the more intimidating. Yet, even in the shadows, the silver dragon scale sparkled and the all- powerful King Darrell knew that this was the messenger of the Gods, befriended by the mighty metallic dragons, and he could not lift a hand to strike him. King Darrell was powerless against Bernard-Patrick and the minotaur knew that simply his presence had defeated the evil elven king. With a face like stone, Bernard-Patrick firmly stood his ground, and held out his hand to Anne, who all but fell into his arms. King Darrell backed down, too frightened to run or look away and his guards were easily rounded up by the Great Big Knights. Sir Alan ran up the steps to the throne, two at a time, and embraced Anne fiercely and protectively. Bernard-Patrick turned to Sir Sean and said, "Have all these guards thrown out of the kingdom, and see to it that Darrell gets put in prison for the rest of his life. He is to be under guard at all times, with no chance of escape."

"I know exactly where my uncle shall go" Anne said, glaring at the king, "I want him locked away in the mountain prison where he sent me, under guard of putrid ogres and served only by the evil wyrms that are there. He shall sleep on damp straw, engulfed in cold and darkness. He shall eat a feast served to him by harpies, the three most foul creatures in the world."

"As is your wish" Bernard-Patrick said, bowing his head to the Lady Anne, "I shall see to it that the dragons carry out your orders. Meanwhile, fulfill the prophecy that can no longer be broken."

"What prophecy is that?" asked Sir Alan.

Bernard-Patrick took Anne's hand and placed it in Alan's. "The prophecy of Great Big Castle which says that after the death of a generation, the last in a line of rulers shall bring life to a new era." he said, turning now to all who were gathered, "Sir Alan, you shall no longer serve, but be served and become king as you marry the only royal soul that is left to claim the throne. In years to come, at the turn of a millennium, Anne shall bear four sons who will grow up with the voices of angels and the divine gift of music. This they shall share with the world and bring everlasting joy to all who hear them sing. Care for your children well, for there will be none others like them. Long after their deaths and burial in the ocean by the Gods, a song made in remembrance of them will last throughout eternity, being passed on for generations and generations. Their memory shall never fade, but grow in the hearts of all who hear and recognize the words: Great Big Sea"

Bernard-Patrick then took the not-so-powerful ex-King Darrell roughly by the arm and strode out of the castle with not a second glance. Darrell was imprisoned thereafter, and Alan married Anne and became king. Great Big Castle no longer had any misfortunes pass upon it, and was eternally guarded by the carrier of the axe, the minotaurian messenger of the Gods, the keeper of the dragon scale. And the prophecy was fulfilled.

The End.