T H E R E A L M O F I M AG I N AT I O N F R O M
A WILLINGNESS
TO ACT
by Paul Miller
Illustrated by Ricardo Bessa
Text © 2015 by Paul Miller, Art © 2015 by Ricardo Bessa
Copyright © 2016 by Carus Publishing Company.
All rights reserved, including right of reproduction in whole or in part, in any form.
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ISBN 978-0-8126-6634-2
DYNE SHAIZAR
couldn’t believe his eyes.
The warrior called Haddon,
renowned the world over as one of the greatest living
heroes, was lounging in the comforting shade of an apple tree
just outside the village. The man’s eyes were closed, and he wore a
satisfied smile.
Dyne cautiously approached. “What are you doing here?”
One of the warrior’s eyes cracked open. “Resting. Or at least I was
until you interrupted me. What is it you want, boy?”
Dyne took the dagger reverently.
“Fare you well, boy. I hope someday, when I’m old and sitting
around my fire in the north, to be regaled with the tales of your many
heroic deeds.”
“Thank you,” Dyne whispered. He glanced a last time at the
beast and trembled, remembering his fear—and his courage. “I am
Dyne Shaizar, and I believe that, one day, you will.”
WHAT!?
2
MARTY?
HI GUYS! LIKE MY NEW
ALL-TERRAIN MONSTER
TRUCK WHEELS?
SUPER. NIFTY.
EGAD, I COULD USE A
CUP OF HOT COCOA.
11
THE GREAT WORM OF NEW
TIMES IS VICTORIOUS! THE
LEGEND BEGINS.
feel like to be skewered by one of those claws. The beast roared
victoriously. Dyne flinched, waiting.
Then he burst into gloriously bright sunlight. It blinded him. He
stumbled and fell and rolled wildly away from his pursuer as the beast
screamed its rage. Dyne came to a stop, too tired to continue, chest
heaving.
“It’s just . . . why aren’t you slaying the beast?” Dyne asked timidly.
“My mum said our village paid you to slay it. You’ve been here for
days, though, and the beast killed more livestock last night. Yet here
you are asleep.”
Haddon just sighed and closed his eyes again. He certainly looked
the part of a warrior, Dyne thought. Shiny leather armor covered his
A few moments passed.
muscular body, and a massive sword lay unbuckled by his side. Haddon
Dyne still lived.
hailed from the north, so he had very pale skin, whereas Dyne’s was as
He looked back to the tunnel mouth. The great beast lay dead at the
dark as polished obsidian.
feet of the warrior, Haddon.
“Do you fear the beast?” Dyne asked. “Is that it?”
Haddon’s eyes snapped open and he pushed to his feet, looming over
H A D D O N L O O K E D U P from cleaning his sword and nodded
the boy. “I am no coward. What do you know of such things anyway?
gravely to the boy. Weakly, Dyne nodded back.
You’re just a boy.”
Haddon sheathed his sword and came to Dyne. He kneeled, placing
his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“I may be young now,” Dyne said, “but I wish to be a great hero
someday. Like you.” He’d never told his plan to another person before
“I should probably be cross with you for your recklessness,”
Haddon said. “But the truth is, my heart would not be in it. You
remind me of myself as a youth—only braver.”
A wide grin split Dyne’s face. “I hope to be like you when I’m older
as well. A hero.”
and braced himself for the laughter that would surely follow.
Instead, Haddon looked him up and down slowly. “What makes you
think you have the makings of a hero?”
Dyne searched for an answer that might impress the warrior. “My
mum says I’m very brave, and I’m faster and stronger than the other
Haddon laughed and rose to his feet. “Well, you’re off to a good
start. I think you just might do it.” He hesitated. “Thank you for the
boys my age.”
Haddon leaned down until their eyes were level. “Listen carefully
help, boy. Here.” He drew a large dagger with a golden handle from
to what I’m about to tell you, boy. It isn’t physical ability or lack of fear
his belt and handed it over. “A hero’s weapon. You’ve earned it.”
that make a man a hero. It’s a willingness to act, to do the right thing
no matter the cost.” He paused, eyes flashing. “True courage is striding
bravely forward even when you are afraid. Do you understand?”
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3
Dyne pushed to his feet and sprinted back the way he had come.
Holding the torch before him in one wildly shaking hand, he retraced
the path left by his own boy-sized footprints in the dirt.
Another roar sounded, echoing like thunder in the cramped tunnels.
Dyne hurtled forward, swerving wildly around the obsidian daggers
jutting down dangerously in his path. He risked a glance over his
shoulder. He could see nothing behind him, but he clipped his foot on
the rock wall and fell, sprawling awkwardly on the ground and scraping
the side of his face.
Warm blood trickled down along Dyne’s jaw and dripped from
the point of his chin as he stumbled desperately to his feet. His heart
pounded, and his breath came in short gasps. From around the bend
behind him came the sound of heavy footfalls and something scraping
against the tunnel floor.
Dyne ran. Knowing he shouldn’t, he glanced back. His heart
fluttered in fear as he glimpsed the beast thundering toward him out of
the darkness.
Filthy gray fur covered its massive body. Yellowed claws hooked
out of its paws, and a stream of thick drool hung from the corners of
its fanged mouth. Red eyes—baleful, hungry—glowed in the darkness,
focused solely on the fleeing boy.
Dyne put his head down and ran as hard as he could, but the beast
drew closer with every stride. It would be on him any moment. Dyne
could feel the great warm gusts of its breath on the back of his neck.
A rush of air whipped past his head, and he knew the beast’s
wicked claws had almost snagged him. He wondered what it would
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9
Dyne nodded.
The warrior finally tore his gaze away and stretched his arms high
above his head. “If you must know, it isn’t fear that keeps me from
killing the beast.”
“What is it?”
“The beast has my scent and knows I’m a threat to it. Every time I
draw near, it flees into the network of tunnels outside the village.”
“Goran’s Folly,” Dyne said. “Mum says old Goran wanted to map
the tunnels, but instead he got lost in them and was never seen again.
Now everyone just pretends they aren’t there.”
Haddon sighed. “The beast knows the tunnels too well and easily
evades me. I need some way to draw it out.”
“Why not wait for it to come out to feed at night?”
“Exactly my thought, which is why I tried that my first night
here. It didn’t work, though. The beast caught my scent and never
emerged.”
Dyne thought for a moment, and an idea formed in his young mind.
“If I were to enter Goran’s Folly, would the beast evade me, too?”
“No. You are no threat. It would hunt you.”
“What if, when it was hunting me, I led it out of the tunnels? And
what if you were waiting to slay it?”
Haddon laughed. “A clever plan, boy, but far too dangerous. This
beast is a fearsome creature. It would tear you to shreds.”
WHOA! I’VE
NEVER SEE
TRACKS LIKE
THESE.
8
LOOK AT
THOSE
CLAWS!
5
PERHAPS WE
HAVE A NEW
MONSTER
IN CRICKET
COUNTRY.
Dyne took a deep breath. He knew it would be dangerous, and
Dyne thought of the dead livestock the beast had left behind after
he was afraid—more afraid than he’d ever been in his life. But was
one of its nighttime raids. The animals had been gruesomely mauled,
that not what Haddon had just spoken of? A true hero did the right
then gorged upon. Dyne realized he could easily end up the same way.
thing in spite of his fear. And his village was desperate to be rid of
the beast.
He stopped, fighting the urge to flee Goran’s Folly before the beast
scented him. He could run away now, forget all of this nonsense and
“Just be ready,” Dyne said. He turned and ran as fast as he could
toward the tunnels of Goran’s Folly, ignoring Haddon’s shouts for him
to stop.
grow up to be a farmer or some other safe, boring thing. His dreams
of heroism were just dreams, after all. They would probably fade,
eventually.
D Y N E L I T T H E torch that waited beside the ever-burning fire pit
near the tunnel entrance. He took a moment to gather himself then
strode bravely inside, down into the forbidden depths.
The tunnel walls glistened in the light of his torch. They were
perfectly smooth obsidian, as was the ceiling, though occasionally large
spears of rock stabbed down in his path, and he had to weave around
them. A light sprinkling of ash, sickly gray in color, coated the floor and
Through his fear, Dyne felt his entire life at a crossroads.
Run, and live long and unafraid in relative safety?
Or face his fear, risk ending up like the slain livestock, but maybe
save the village and move one step closer to what he truly wanted for
his life?
Dyne stood in silence in the torch’s flickering glow, and his face
hardened. “My name is Dyne Shaizar,” he whispered, “and I will be a
hero one day.” He paused for a moment. “And the tales of my deeds will
padded his steps.
Legend held that the tunnels were created by great wyrms that
start with what I do here today.”
vanished from the world long before humans came to be. Looking at the
He trembled, and his legs felt weak. But he forced himself forward.
unnaturally smooth stone surrounding him, Dyne found he believed the
“Come and get me, beast!” he shouted. “Though I fear you, I will
legend. He pressed on, ignoring dozens of side tunnels and choosing at
face you now!”
A deafening roar shook the tunnel walls, and Dyne fell to the
random anytime the path forked.
A low rumbling sounded far ahead of him, and Dyne froze. The
ground. This time, the sound came from much nearer than before. It
seemed the beast hunted him already.
beast. It had to be.
EEK! I WISH I WAS A GREAT WYRM OF
OLDEN TIMES. NOTHING WOULD SCARE ME.
BUCK UP! WE’LL BE THE GREAT
WORMS OF NEW TIMES.
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