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Description
The Last Wishing Well

By M.R.Maloney

Jankin Algaire the Great, last in the line of Hyperborean Kings, stood before the hidden glen, warning his royal guard not to disturb him or the object of his decade-long quest. He trudged through the muck and the mud, sidestepping the refuse of the local fauna, grimacing at the fetid stench he now approached, wary, but eager to find out if the legends were true. Soon he came to a stop, reverently kneeling, using his sword for support as he waited. Minutes passed with only the cawing of crows, the grumble of his stomach and the rasp of his breath as he tried not to take in the putrid aroma surrounding the well. Finally he remembered what the old woman had said, taking out a solitary dekadrachm from the pouch he carried at his waist, throwing it into the well. Down, down it fell into the darkness, the waning light finally ceasing to reflect off of it and he strained his ears to hear the plunk of its arrival in the waters below. Nothing. He reached for another, thinking maybe it had gotten caught in the side of the structure, when faintly he heard a hissing whisper.
"What is your wish, oh wise and mighty King Algaire? Surely not for more wealth?" The king clenched his jaw, wondering from what dark force the voice emanated, wondering how it knew who he was, but restrained himself, knowing from the legends that it was not wise to question the well. Not only did the wishes end up not granted as desired, but terrible repercussions arose.
“I humbly beseech your power after years of searching, finding all others of your kind from legends to be false or having lost their magic. I have sought you that my people be saved from the ravages of the frost dragons that have woken from their long slumber. I have but one solitary wish: I wish that my people were safeguarded from all harm of natural or magical means without suffering the consequences of immobilization such as occurred when Dionysus' gift to King Midas turned his staff and daughter to gold. Thus I wish, last wishing well, surely the most powerful of all, to have lasted while all others have faded.” The silence that followed was chilling, even to the king of the north, raised on plains covered in snow for two-thirds of the year. Finally a rasping chuckle came forth, followed by the hissing whisper once more,
“Wiser than even your guards surmise, mumbling to one another, glancing in your direction, but fearful enough to keep their distance. Yes, I do have the power to grant your wish, but no mere dekadrachm will be enough sacrifice for a wish so powerful. No, not even all the coins in your royal coffers, King Algaire...”
“Name your price then. I will give anything to save my people.”
“No, King Algaire... You will give everything. You will surrender your crown to me, and then after you have verified that your guards are safeguarded you will surrender your sword and self to me as well, swearing fealty. Quickly now, while you still have my favor.” The King blinked, never hearing of such cost in legends before, but spent not one moment of hesitation, removing his bejeweled crown and cast it into the well. “Go now.” The hissing whisper said even as he heard the metallic reverberations of his crown bouncing off the walls of the well as it fell downward. Running back through the glen he removed his cloak and breastplate, letting them fall into the mud and refuse, expectant eyes looking in awe as his guards were nowhere to be found. He looked around for a short bit, confused, then dashed back to the well. Was he tricked? Or had his men deserted him, finally deciding that his insane quest was less important than their comfort.
“Where are my guards?” The king asked, panting even heavier as his lungs strained against a powerful new odor of mint and holly which seemed somehow stronger than earlier stench.
“Safe. Away, with all of your people. You will visit them, after you have given me your sword and sworn your allegiance.” King Jankin Algaire clenched his jaw, suspecting he was making a deal with Hades himself, but still knelt once more, head bowed, sword extended outward.
“I, King Jankin Algaire do hereby pledge my sword, being and soul to this wishing well, in service as long as it will have me, in exchange for the wish that it has granted.” He started to lift the sword up higher, intending to set it on the mouth of the well and push it inside, but suddenly he felt it taken from his grasp.
“Rise, Janken Algaire, king no more. Rise, Janken of the last wishing well. Rise Janken of the Frost.” Jankin looked up at what had taken the sword, a heleionomai, a naiad of the marsh and swamp, doubtlessly the source of the well's power. He rose slowly, marveling as no naiad had been seen in a few centuries to his reckoning. “I am Kalanna, and no, you have not been tricked. Not exactly. The power of man has grown and pushed my kind back to the great depths, killed many of my sisters who remained in public waters and so those who were too far from the ocean drew back to aquifers, using our powers to bless those that aided us. But our champions were slain or corrupted, and none of my sisters remain in the wells we claimed. None save me. Your people are safe as you desired, brought to the Elysium Fields for those worthy, and those not will be tested until purified. Persephone herself has ushered your mother there where she will wait for you.”
“I... I thank you. I had feared my wish was to be twisted to our doom when my guards had disappeared. I am yours now, Lady Kalanna. What would you have me do?” Jankin gave a bow, eager to finish the payment and join his people in the afterlife. It hadn't been what he had hoped for when making the wish, but being beyond pain or earning the place there was far beyond what he could have even imagined. He felt her hand on his cheek, wet as expected, but warm. When he looked at it he saw it growing fairer, more solid, human.
“There is a matter of your service that will drive you on, keep you separated from your family, your people, for more years than I can conceivably see. For all but winter you will wander the lands with no memory of who you are or were, searching for any relic of the gods left behind that is best kept out of the hands of mortals. You will find creatures from Zeus's zoo and all his other creations still surviving and bring them to the protection we will offer. For in winter you will be Janken of the Frost as I named you, bringing wonder to those with faith in the existence of the marvelous, sharing the majesty of your old kingdom, your touch making windows into jewels, ponds into fairways, and reason for families to stay close around the hearth. You will be my husband and every winter solstice we will gift the world as best as able with the last remnants of my power. So long as they believe in you, I will be able to keep us alive and hear their wishes. Once they finally can forget us, Persephone will free us to join your people.”
“I am honored, Lady Kalanna... But wherever shall we live? My palace was destroyed by the frost dragons before I began my quest. My people were rebuilding, but if they are all gone then who will tend to the fields? However will we eat?” Kalanna kissed his forehead as she tiptoed, running her hands through his colorless beard and hair, shushing him gently, taking his hand and leading him down the stream, out of the glen and down the road as she answered him.
“The believers will leave us food at winter solstice, and as we slay the remaining frost dragons will will plunder their hordes for the funds to let us stockpile the rest of the year. All will be taken care of, Persephone has promised us, though she would not say how long our task would take us. We will live in the north, far beyond your lands, safe from the prying eyes of mere mortals. You will have days where we will consecrate the sacred union we will take at the next village, and days where we will both be busy with the tasks Persephone has given us, but some will leave us time to pursue our own interests. I used to weave great tapestries before Arachne's great tragedy, what of you, my future husband?” Jankin considered for a long while, trying to think of what he had enjoyed aside from serving his people and seeing his kingdom prosper before. A cart drew up behind them and he led his fiance to the side so as not to be trampled, waving at the rider as he passed, still watching when something caught his eye. Sitting in the back of the cart was a young boy, playing with a clay animal. Beside him was an even younger girl, smiling as she looked at a straw doll in her hands. Jankin smiled at the sight, turning to Lady Kalanna's inquisitively raised brow and finally had his answer.
“In my spare time? Why, I think I'll make some toys...”

Description
The Last Wishing Well

By M.R.Maloney

Jankin Algaire the Great, last in the line of Hyperborean Kings, stood before the hidden glen, warning his royal guard not to disturb him or the object of his decade-long quest. He trudged through the muck and the mud, sidestepping the refuse of the local fauna, grimacing at the fetid stench he now approached, wary, but eager to find out if the legends were true. Soon he came to a stop, reverently kneeling, using his sword for support as he waited. Minutes passed with only the cawing of crows, the grumble of his stomach and the rasp of his breath as he tried not to take in the putrid aroma surrounding the well. Finally he remembered what the old woman had said, taking out a solitary dekadrachm from the pouch he carried at his waist, throwing it into the well. Down, down it fell into the darkness, the waning light finally ceasing to reflect off of it and he strained his ears to hear the plunk of its arrival in the waters below. Nothing. He reached for another, thinking maybe it had gotten caught in the side of the structure, when faintly he heard a hissing whisper.
"What is your wish, oh wise and mighty King Algaire? Surely not for more wealth?" The king clenched his jaw, wondering from what dark force the voice emanated, wondering how it knew who he was, but restrained himself, knowing from the legends that it was not wise to question the well. Not only did the wishes end up not granted as desired, but terrible repercussions arose.
“I humbly beseech your power after years of searching, finding all others of your kind from legends to be false or having lost their magic. I have sought you that my people be saved from the ravages of the frost dragons that have woken from their long slumber. I have but one solitary wish: I wish that my people were safeguarded from all harm of natural or magical means without suffering the consequences of immobilization such as occurred when Dionysus' gift to King Midas turned his staff and daughter to gold. Thus I wish, last wishing well, surely the most powerful of all, to have lasted while all others have faded.” The silence that followed was chilling, even to the king of the north, raised on plains covered in snow for two-thirds of the year. Finally a rasping chuckle came forth, followed by the hissing whisper once more,
“Wiser than even your guards surmise, mumbling to one another, glancing in your direction, but fearful enough to keep their distance. Yes, I do have the power to grant your wish, but no mere dekadrachm will be enough sacrifice for a wish so powerful. No, not even all the coins in your royal coffers, King Algaire...”
“Name your price then. I will give anything to save my people.”
“No, King Algaire... You will give everything. You will surrender your crown to me, and then after you have verified that your guards are safeguarded you will surrender your sword and self to me as well, swearing fealty. Quickly now, while you still have my favor.” The King blinked, never hearing of such cost in legends before, but spent not one moment of hesitation, removing his bejeweled crown and cast it into the well. “Go now.” The hissing whisper said even as he heard the metallic reverberations of his crown bouncing off the walls of the well as it fell downward. Running back through the glen he removed his cloak and breastplate, letting them fall into the mud and refuse, expectant eyes looking in awe as his guards were nowhere to be found. He looked around for a short bit, confused, then dashed back to the well. Was he tricked? Or had his men deserted him, finally deciding that his insane quest was less important than their comfort.
“Where are my guards?” The king asked, panting even heavier as his lungs strained against a powerful new odor of mint and holly which seemed somehow stronger than earlier stench.
“Safe. Away, with all of your people. You will visit them, after you have given me your sword and sworn your allegiance.” King Jankin Algaire clenched his jaw, suspecting he was making a deal with Hades himself, but still knelt once more, head bowed, sword extended outward.
“I, King Jankin Algaire do hereby pledge my sword, being and soul to this wishing well, in service as long as it will have me, in exchange for the wish that it has granted.” He started to lift the sword up higher, intending to set it on the mouth of the well and push it inside, but suddenly he felt it taken from his grasp.
“Rise, Janken Algaire, king no more. Rise, Janken of the last wishing well. Rise Janken of the Frost.” Jankin looked up at what had taken the sword, a heleionomai, a naiad of the marsh and swamp, doubtlessly the source of the well's power. He rose slowly, marveling as no naiad had been seen in a few centuries to his reckoning. “I am Kalanna, and no, you have not been tricked. Not exactly. The power of man has grown and pushed my kind back to the great depths, killed many of my sisters who remained in public waters and so those who were too far from the ocean drew back to aquifers, using our powers to bless those that aided us. But our champions were slain or corrupted, and none of my sisters remain in the wells we claimed. None save me. Your people are safe as you desired, brought to the Elysium Fields for those worthy, and those not will be tested until purified. Persephone herself has ushered your mother there where she will wait for you.”
“I... I thank you. I had feared my wish was to be twisted to our doom when my guards had disappeared. I am yours now, Lady Kalanna. What would you have me do?” Jankin gave a bow, eager to finish the payment and join his people in the afterlife. It hadn't been what he had hoped for when making the wish, but being beyond pain or earning the place there was far beyond what he could have even imagined. He felt her hand on his cheek, wet as expected, but warm. When he looked at it he saw it growing fairer, more solid, human.
“There is a matter of your service that will drive you on, keep you separated from your family, your people, for more years than I can conceivably see. For all but winter you will wander the lands with no memory of who you are or were, searching for any relic of the gods left behind that is best kept out of the hands of mortals. You will find creatures from Zeus's zoo and all his other creations still surviving and bring them to the protection we will offer. For in winter you will be Janken of the Frost as I named you, bringing wonder to those with faith in the existence of the marvelous, sharing the majesty of your old kingdom, your touch making windows into jewels, ponds into fairways, and reason for families to stay close around the hearth. You will be my husband and every winter solstice we will gift the world as best as able with the last remnants of my power. So long as they believe in you, I will be able to keep us alive and hear their wishes. Once they finally can forget us, Persephone will free us to join your people.”
“I am honored, Lady Kalanna... But wherever shall we live? My palace was destroyed by the frost dragons before I began my quest. My people were rebuilding, but if they are all gone then who will tend to the fields? However will we eat?” Kalanna kissed his forehead as she tiptoed, running her hands through his colorless beard and hair, shushing him gently, taking his hand and leading him down the stream, out of the glen and down the road as she answered him.
“The believers will leave us food at winter solstice, and as we slay the remaining frost dragons will will plunder their hordes for the funds to let us stockpile the rest of the year. All will be taken care of, Persephone has promised us, though she would not say how long our task would take us. We will live in the north, far beyond your lands, safe from the prying eyes of mere mortals. You will have days where we will consecrate the sacred union we will take at the next village, and days where we will both be busy with the tasks Persephone has given us, but some will leave us time to pursue our own interests. I used to weave great tapestries before Arachne's great tragedy, what of you, my future husband?” Jankin considered for a long while, trying to think of what he had enjoyed aside from serving his people and seeing his kingdom prosper before. A cart drew up behind them and he led his fiance to the side so as not to be trampled, waving at the rider as he passed, still watching when something caught his eye. Sitting in the back of the cart was a young boy, playing with a clay animal. Beside him was an even younger girl, smiling as she looked at a straw doll in her hands. Jankin smiled at the sight, turning to Lady Kalanna's inquisitively raised brow and finally had his answer.
“In my spare time? Why, I think I'll make some toys...”