The History Of Carn

It was after lunch and the Hafling students filed into the library of the monk. The monk raised his hands for silence. The folds of his hessian clothes swept the floor as he moved with quiet dignity towards the book shelf. Piles of books lay everywhere, and now he stacked those on the floor to form steps. The books on the highest shelf were the oldest in the Hafling kingdom and consequently the least used. The students knew they were in for something special, because the monk was now on the tips of toes, stretching his arms, searching for a book between the top shelf and the ceiling.

His hands closed upon a book. The students looked at each other and exchanged glances. Something in the way the monk held the book as he walked across the floor to his desk told the students that this was a once in a lifetime lesson. Hardly daring to breathe, the students sat, with backs erect and markers ready. The monk carefully placed the book on his desk and then sat down. After looking each of the students in the eye, he bent down and blew the dust from the cover.

"A Spectator Of Events, Chapter Three, Carn." As the monk said 'Carn' the students let out a gasp. The monk almost smiled and waited with quiet patience for the students to regain thier composure and then he began.

The monk read aloud, "It has fallen to me, Dewe, to recount the last days of Carn. The healers have said it would be a good thing; 'a way to vent my pain and sorrow' was how they put it. I am no healer so cannot comment, but I feel a passion for writing and used to be Carn's shield bearer and closest confident. It was I who stood on Carn's right side as we chased the last Orcs from the crater, I who looked up and saw the figure of Carn atop a pile of the headmaster's creatures' skulls, and I who left Carn in his hour of need."

The monk picked up some pinchers and turned over the page.

"We found ourselves freed from the shackles of our masters. Carn had somehow managed to overwhelm one of the headmaster's creations and steal the key. We had only a few moments to hold council, for the dark tunnels were crawling with lesser creatures of the headmaster. It was agreed that some were to head to the lower levels and release those held in the 'community cells.' Some were to head to the armoury and some to scout ahead.

"Carn and I led the assult on the armoury. We had no weapons and so flung ourselves at the small garrison protecting the entrance to the armoury. We made a path with our bodies; the fighting was fierce and many of our brethren died. We had only moments before rienforcements arrived from other areas of the crater. Under Carn's instruction, we gathered as many weapons as we could, and then we upset the huge furnace and ran for our lives. Out of the hundred who had attacked the armoury, thirty-five remained.

"After many hours of desperate fighting, we finally won our way to the upper tier. It was there that we fought and destroyed the last of the orc bands. And, had I known so, I would have celebrated, because it was to be our last victorious battle. Carn stood atop the mound of orcs, his hair blowing in the breeze. I can remember the words he spoke ...

"'Onwards to freedom, onwards to life, long live choices! Onwards to liberty and the future!' As I looked up, he raised his Sceptre and laughed. A shaft of light fell on him as he stood there, rejoicing in our freedom. We all laughed, but no-one more than Carn. In the battle for freedom, he'd lost his three sons, his wife, and his parents. He now savoured the moment.

"'Damn you!' came the headmaster's voice. It came from the walls, from the air, from the ground. The mound on which Carn stood then trembled and collapsed. The Sceptre fell from his hand as he tumbled to the ground. It seemed that as he fell the floor rose up, and orc bodies lept high into the air, as whatever was beneath the floor pushed its way out.

"Before anyone could stop him, Carn gave the command for all to leave. The majority of Haflings didn't need his command: they were already running towards freedom. In all, ten of us stayed behind and confronted the headmaster. None of us had ever seen it before. We assumed the headmaster was some kind of evil giant, but what we beheld had wings and fangs, and breathed fire, and had talons on each finger and toe as long as a Hafling's hand. In its right fist was a blazing whip.

"As the creature stepped forward, the ground shook. I saw that as the headmaster raised its foot some of my friends lay impaled on the sharp talons. Fire came from its mouth, it blazed all around, and for a time I remember no more. When I came round, I was lying amongst the orc bodies, clasping onto the Sceptre.

"It is now past midnight and the healers have told me to stop. Maybe they fear for my sanity. I can see in their faces profound worry. I have just one more thing to add. Carn was just an ordinary Hafling. Unknown and unremarkable, what spirit he showed in those few moments I shall always treasure. It was as if he took it upon himself to show us freedom and the potential that lies within each one of us to bloom into something remarkable."

The monk shut the book with reverence and bowed. The students left, clasping thier notes close to thier chests. All were silent, thinking of the sacrifice of Carn.