“I will grant you one wish and only one,” snorted the borgon.

“Very well. I presume wishing to be released is out of the question. So I desire to blow my nose for the last time with my handkerchief, a gift from my late mother.”

“Snark, get this fool’s handkerchief and prepare the axe,” replied the vicious borgon amidst snorts of laughter.

Snark came over to my side and untied my right arm from the coarse rope. I put my face up to the handkerchief but instead of blowing my nose, inhaled a little air from the handkerchief. There was a large bang and a flash of white and blue light, followed by a harsh cry from Snark. I untied my bindings and ran towards the corner in which my sacred gold bracelet lay. I picked up the glistening jewel, remaining for a second to take in its splendour. I couldn’t help chuckling at the random chaos of the borgons, Snark roaring orders and every borgon following them. Bodies were colliding everywhere and it was difficult to make it to the door unscathed.

I ran down the spiral staircase of that horrible stone tower, silent like a spirit. Once at the bottom I was confronted by a large wooden door guarded by two chief borgons. I quietly crept up to them, careful not to alert them of my presence, and attempted to steal the keys of the left hand borgon’s belt, but the fat lump of lard had them fastened tight to his belt. I gradually undid the clasp and slowly pulled them off when the borgon turned around. My hand was firmly attached to the keys so I swung around and stomped on his toe. He couldn’t fail to notice and started randomly waving his club, knocking out his companion and causing a melée among the other borgons, who by now were running towards me. I tried to constrain a laugh, while slipping out of the door and slamming it shut, locking it from the outside.


“Very good trick, but what was it in your handkerchief ? I don’t even think borgons are stupid enough to not see a person stealing their keys,” squealed Mark the goblin barman.

“The handkerchief containing a few grains of magic dust was a gift from my mother, of course, though she is completely alive but in the dungeons of Gilda. I inhaled a few specks and the resulting magic made me invisible. I added a bang and flash to scare the borgons and thus to allow me to untie myself.”

“A great trick, Master Randar. What will be next? An escape from the Great Lord’s Fortress?” giggled Alexandra, a peculiar little pixie. She immediately turned red amid stares of horror, muttering something obscene under her breath and disappearing, though not literally, from the pub.


I followed Alexandra, to the surprise of most, from the pub out into the night. Snow was now falling swiftly covering the tips of the north mountains in white. The snow was an almost mesmerising blur of white. I could see Alexandra in the distance with her coat fastened tightly and head lowered running towards her cottage. I caught up with her and she was still muttering. I tapped her on the shoulder. We ran to her cottage and I bolted the stiff wooden door hard behind us. I hung my sodden cloak up on the hook and turned looking around the room. I had only once been in here and it was still familiar and homely. The fire was blazing, setting a silhouette of the little pixie on the back wall. The stone walls were dark and cold contrasting with the bright red curtains and blue table cloth.

Alexandra sat down at the dining table now looking less grim. I sat myself down opposite her and pulled the bracelet and a medallion from my pocket. She gasped at these items. Pixies are extremely fond of shiny items, as was clear from the silver ornaments on the fire place. I silently opened the front of the medallion, pointing it towards Alexandra. The pixie’s face glowed white in the bright light from the medallion.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“It is a great medallion, yes,” I sighed, ”though you will not be so pleased when I tell you the origin and future of this pendant. I feared this event a long time ago and now it has occurred. I have yet again been tricked by fate. Fate is such a cruel thing and yet so frivolous.”

Alex was now staring into the medallion.

“Pardon my stupidity, Randar, but what is the significance and involvement of me with this item?”

“You are not stupid Alex, but very wise. This is why the medallion’s fate has come intertwined with yours,” I broke off for a second. “Of course I have tried hard to prove it false in my mind but I’m afraid I cannot. The third dynasty selected you at birth for the consumption of this medallion!”

“The consumption?”

“Yes, I apologise. You will have to be absorbed by the medallion and enter the other realm beyond our own. You have some decisions to make. You are allowed to take one other person with you and any items you deem useful. I warn you now, Alex, this is a serious business. The medallion is dark and it chooses the future of your race - pixies. If you fail your task, they all shall die.”

“I shall take you then. No-one else is more worthy than you,” stammered Alex.

“I thought you would say that. Very well, I shall accompany you.”

“Can I pack tomorrow? I am awfully tired.”

“I’m sorry, but our quest begins tomorrow at dawn. We shall set off to the Myrian fountain and transport tomorrow. We need to be there or we automatically fail. I am so sorry. I hope I can lighten the burden for you. I have not told any Pixies - causing a shock would just turn the whole north into panic. I will leave a letter explaining our disappearance.

“Now please sleep. I shall sleep here in the dining room and prepare. I shall wake you at one hour before dawn. Please take a sip of this, it will give you a dreamless sleep.”

I took a flask of purple coloured liquid from my bag and poured some into a glass. She drank and went into her room. I organised and eventually fell asleep at four am. I could not take any of the purple potion because I feared that Alex would need it. . . .