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A tale of bravery

From Trumpet Juniors

The Land of Bravery and Wisdom is a land we will never discover, no matter how much our world expands to other planets. The inhabitants are kind and loving, wise and brave. They were content with their lives for they had their leader and friend Lora, who could always be depended on to protect and counsel them.

The piece is part of the storytelling sessions, writing workshops, author interaction events, open mic sessions, etc. which are conducted for the creative fraternity; virtual or physical. 

This piece is by junior contributor, Isha Rajeev Nair, a student of Kings’ School, Dubai

But far, far away in the Land of Ever Evil, a door creaked open. A tall, pale goblin entered and stood imposingly. Every goblin froze because standing in front was Long-legs, their chief. His eyes searched everyone and said, “Every cabinet member here?”. They nodded, rather scared. “ Well, ready to carry out the plan against worthless enchantress Lora?”. The hatred in his gaze scorched them and made them cower a little lower in their chair.
Far off, the enchantress Lora was totally oblivious to “the plan”. She was deep in the sea of words, covered by her long sheet of blonde hair. She had the ethereal charm of moonlight with her milky white skin and carefree blue eyes. Yet never a boastful word came from her rosebud lips and she was definitely not vain. Kindness poured out of her, and she had the courage to make ten people brave. But her intelligence gained her more respect, and her ideas could not be fulfilled even here. Only Lora knew that all her powers were helped by the Belt of Goblin Lincoln. The Belt helped her to make the right decisions as well as to overcome any hurdles or dangers and also protect the citizens of the Land of Bravery and Wisdom.

Lora was in her study poring over stories of ancient lore when she heard a loud noise in her treasure room. She rushed in, to find Long-legs examining the Belt of Goblin Lincoln with his shrivelled spindly fingers. Seeing Lora, he raced on a gust of wind. “Oh no! Now Goblin Long -legs can make the impossible possible! By the Power of the Belt, all his evil plans can be executed!”, said Lora. She was worried for the Belt of Goblin Lincoln. This had been entrusted with her by Goblin Lincoln who was a good goblin. He admired Lora for her bravery, honesty and truthfulness. He was also worried about his successor, Long-legs. He knew that Long -Legs couldn’t be trusted and that he would create havoc in the Land of Bravery and Wisdom if he ever got his hands on the Belt.

Lora felt lonely and terrified. “I wish I had my friend to back me up!” She said while she grabbed her sword, shield and magical broomstick, packed water to throw at a giant (if there was one) and set off. She rushed off and decided to ride her magnificent white mare for a while. Suddenly, a hand gently nudged her. It was Margaret, her friend! “ Do you want me to come? “ she asked. “ Margaret, let me leave on this perilous quest alone – “ said Lora , “this isn’t time to make speeches. Also, I’m coming whether you like it or not,” said Margaret obstinately. “ But ….” Lora cried. “ No buts, “ said Margaret. They set off on a quest for the belt of Goblin Lincoln at once. They rode far and long until they reached Goblin land. Giant Elves from Elfendore, Werewolves from Wolves Hollow and Giants from Giant Mountains were guarding the belt. Goblin Long-legs was in front, a taunting smile on his face. “You see, we were more ready for you than you for us”, he screamed. But Lora said,” Not quite!” Lora and Margaret took out their magical broomsticks and flew off. The giants followed them with howls of rage until cloaked swordsmen blocked Lora’s and Margaret’s way. Lora muttered her special spell,” Ponsonia Racia!” Soon enough, they reluctantly made way for her. She flew on until flying Werewolves surrounded them. She cast another spell, even stronger than the one before,” Bolsonaro!” and all the Werewolves were sent flying.

Now Lora and Margaret were shielded from the belt by Long-legs. But Lora was too quick. “ Ronsonia Racia”, she screamed. Long-legs had to move away reluctantly as he knew that he had been truly overcome by Lora’s spells and Lora and Margaret grabbed the belt amidst shouts of anger.
Lora and Margaret made their long journey back at Lora’s home. “That was interesting, ”remarked Lora. “ Just so,” agreed Margaret “ We just need to make sure that no more Goblins can ever steal the belt of Goblin Lincoln”. Lora built a special enclosure for the belt of Goblin Lincoln that could only be opened by the secret chants that she and Margaret could invoke. Knowing that the belt of Goblin Lincoln. was safe, Lora and Margaret spent their days happily and secure in the knowledge that life was beautiful.

Follow the creative endeavours by our editor, Purva Grover

My little boy had grown up and his feet were as big as mine!

It was his 17th birthday and my timid and shy young son was slowly growing up to be a fine young man. Over the years, a lot had changed. Earlier, as a boy, he would grip my hand a little firmer when we crossed the road. Now he would steer clear and give me a sheepish smile as we walked side by side, crossing the road. He was almost my height now and he seemed to be more and more excited and curious to know if he would possibly grow taller. Every few months, he would suddenly walk up to me, stand beside me and ask his mother or sister to tell him who was taller…I have to admit I would always look forward to being declared as the taller one.

He was almost my height now and he seemed to be more and more excited and curious to know if he would possibly grow taller.

– The Indian Trumpet’s Shoe Special Edition

And now, on his 17th birthday, at the shoe store, the usual salesperson who knew us checked his shoe size. The salesperson smiled satisfactorily and told me “He needs a 9,” and went to the storeroom to bring the correct size of shoes. It was only four words, “He needs a 9”. No, it wasn’t the words. It was the edge of the emotions that pierced me along with the words. The store felt small and suffocating and without excusing myself, I hurriedly walked out to get some air. My little boy had grown up and his feet were as big as mine. I thought of his first shoe, which I still have, and how it was smaller than my palm. I thought of how I taught him to tie his laces, and how tiring it was when we would both sit on our haunches, practising and finally falling on to the ground laughing, tired, and frustrated because he could not get it right! I thought of how proud I felt, when, just the other day, I overheard him, admonishing his friend for not wearing polished shoes. “The shoes tell your story,” he said my words and I mouthed them gently with him.

I don’t know why I felt a tinge of sadness. It was almost as if an intruder had broken into the cocoon I had weaved around him and pulled him into the real world, from which I always wanted to save him. It was almost as if I had thought I would battle alone and keep him shielded from the worldly troubles and yet, today, here he was. Standing tall with his father. I walked in with a funny, half happy, half sad mood and there he was strutting around in his size 9 shoes in front of a mirror. As our eyes met, we both smiled at each other’s reflection in the mirror. Happy birthday son, happy birthday.

Keep blowing the Trumpet! This & many more stories await in the pages!

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