2 Iron John

The canopy's thick dark-green leaves obscured Maxen's view of his own feet despite the dim light that made it through. A heavy carpet of fog had started to roll in, obscuring his sight even more, almost blocking Galahad who pranced around as if he had finally found where he belonged. Crazy dog, Maxen scowled unable to hide the happiness he felt as his best friend returned to him with a stick lodged firmly between his canines. The old mutt hadn't run like that in years.

"Is that why you dragged me here? To hunt for sticks?"

The hound seemed to nod, making his master guffaw.

"Alright, I've had enough. Put the stick down and let's go back home. Marnie is waiting for us and you know she doesn't like to wait."

Their eyes met and Maxen's heart skipped a beat as the dog showed him its tail and turned around, leaving without dropping the stick.

"Galahad get back here, you silly dog" He cursed as he followed the old dog deeper and deeper into the forest, heart racing wildly from the exertion. The terrain wasn't as smooth as he'd first thought. Well, it is a forest after all.

The air got thicker even as the fog started to clear, revealing a translucent lake, disturbed only by his silly pet splashing around mindlessly, stick lodged firmly in his mouth. Maxen sat down knowing full well that Galahad would only venture away from the shore if he yelled at him. He's as stubborn as you are so don't you yell at him no more, his wife had chided one winter night as they cuddled beneath the blankets, discussing if they should put Galahad out of his misery. It had been weeks since he refused to stand up and move, let alone run and swim like he was doing now, and three full days without eating with them. And then that morning he had lifted his heavy head and had run off, with Maxen in tow. Just like that.

His stomach rumbled alerting him to the fact that hours had passed since his last meal. They had no time to stop; his legs hurt after running behind the dog trying to catch up to him. There was no way he could pick Galahad up – he was a monster, his four legs half a tree trunk thick, with a weight close to a hundred and fifty pounds – he would most likely end up with a broken back. The dog came out of the lake, ignoring the water which dripped rhythmically from its tousled fur. He had to admit; even at twenty-two years of age, Galahad was a wondrous beast. His lizard eyes scoured the grass, his nose – now wet from the bath he had taken – sniffed the air hungrily, and his amber fur glinted in the dim light the sun provided. The thought that he had rescued him from the streets made Maxen smile. It also could have made him rich, but he had decided long ago that it wasn't worth it. If not for that beast, he would have never met Marnie.

Galahad's tongue lolled out as the stick dropped to the ground and he sat down, panting. Too bad you can't hunt rabid boars anymore. The tusks fetched a pretty penny. Maxen frowned and scooched closer as the light around his pup seemed to dim and the water rippled. There was something unnatural to this forest and he couldn't put his finger on it.

A hand came out of the water, grabbed Galahad by his chimera tail, and dragged him under. Maxen sat frozen with heart pounding against his chest, unable to utter a word as his throat tightened and his vision blurred. What the fuck was that?

His eyes darted left and right as the urge to approach the water and peek got the better of him. There was no way he would let that hand drag him under like…

"Galahad!"

Casting aside all common sense, Maxen jumped into the water. He thrashed around wildly, oblivious of the fact he had never actually learned how to swim while desperately keeping his head above its surface searching for any sign of his pet. The water gurgled around him, cooling off his remaining body heat. Where Galahad had stood mere moments before, lay the stick his teeth had scratched; deep claw marks were the only proof something terrible had happened.

His arms ached with the effort of maintaining himself afloat and his vision blurred again. Kicking as hard as he could, he closed the gap between himself and the shore, throwing himself on the grey grass.

A hand grabbed his neck and lifted him up in an iron-grip, coercing him into making eye-contact with two sparkling eyes, hidden behind amber eyebrows. The same colour Galahad's fur had been. Odd. The lack of oxygen made his head swim. No matter how hard he tried to break its hold, the hand was too strong. The grip then loosened enough to allow him to suck in a gulp of air while his feet still dangled atop the grass. His ears rang and his lungs burned – Maxen had never been in this situation before, his top priority having been running away from direct conflicts. That was the reason Marnie loved him so much. And also why he was still alive to experience asphyxiation.

The man put him down gently, without uttering a single word. His stare warned Maxen of the consequences which would follow should he try to escape but he was more interested in getting his breath back than running away. And dying like a hero.

"Are you done?"

The giant – for he must have been seven feet tall at the very least – had crouched down on the grass, a fake smile plastered on his rosy lips. Everything about this man was grey except the pinkish tint of his mouth and those bushy amber eyebrows. His hair – held back in a man bun – his eyes – a mixture of iron and pewter – and even his ghostly complexion, so contrasting with his stalwart body. Maxen thought of an intelligent answer but found it wiser to keep his mouth shut. In a battle of wits, he could take this guy out, but in a battle of brawn, he was just lunch.

"What did you to my dog?"

The giant blinked and grinned, clearly holding back a laugh. And a good thing too. I bet it could make my ears explode.

"That's what you call him, eh? A dog?" he snorted and sighed. "Such a puny name for such a mighty animal. It's a good thing I rescued him. He was starving to death with you."

��Starving? He wouldn't eat anything I gave him. Not for the last week, anyway."

"What did you expect? Would you feed a dragon with vegetables?"

Maxen blinked. "A dragon…?"

"It's a metaphor. What have you been feeding him these years?"

"Meat."

"What kind of meat?"

"Boar, mostly. It fetched us" ̶

"You fed a Yarith rabid boars? Are you out of your mind? No wonder he ran away from you."

Maxen suddenly felt the urge to defend himself, even if he had no idea why. Do giants eat humans anymore?

"What do you mean he ran away? He made me come here."

"A Yarith doesn't make you do anything. You followed him. Humans are stupid that way. One does not run inside the mouth of a dragon."

"Galahad is not a Yarith. Yariths have been extinct for a hundred years."

"You didn't notice the chimera tail?"

"That's not a distinctive feature of a Yarith. All dogs have that."

"And the lizard eyes?"

"Again, not distinctive."

"You really no nothing of your lore, don't you?"

Who is this man? And why am I chatting with him? Maxen stood up, uncrumpling his shirt. Cracking his knuckles, he looked down at the man and set his jaw.

"Who are you?"

"Yariths were mythical creatures, with lizard-like eyes, fur the colour of amber and a chimera tail. Don't you think that matched your dog's description?"

"Dogs have all of those too. They are closely related to Yariths if you didn't know? Which reminds me. Who are you?

"Does your dog also have claws?"

Maxen's mouth opened and closed. Of course it does. He's a dog.

"Naturally."

"A Yarith is easily recognized by the size of its claws. Not to mention its height" the giant stressed the last word in a disappointed manner, standing up and looming over Maxen once again.

"Yariths have been extinct for a hundred years" he stressed the situation again just in case the giant hadn't heard him the first time.

"And yet you raised one solely with boar meat. That's an impressive feat. There must be something about you I have not yet seen if Hound managed to survive near you for so long."

"Excuse me… Hound?"

"Yes. That's what he calls himself."

Maxen's legs buckled and he fell in a heap, ignoring the jagged rock underneath. It's impossible. Galahad…can't be a Yarith. He's so…stupid.

"Of course, Hound had to adjust his mannerisms around you. It's amazing that you still failed to notice how huge he was - for a normal dog. I'm John by the way." The giant turned on his heels and trudged towards the lake.

Something in his bearing seemed familiar to Maxen; a certain gruffness in his eyes, a lull in his voice – it reminded him of a persona long forgotten. A wizard who had once risked everything for a prince, only to be exiled and hunted like a fox. John. That name…John.

"I've heard your name before, haven't I?"

"Have you? With your poor lore-knowledge?"

The jape passed over Maxen as his brain filled in the missing pieces of the story. A story his father used to tell him all the time, a lesson which Maxen had found bitter but ultimately true. Royalty can't be trusted.

"You've heard my name from your father."

"Yes. But there's something missing."

"Name's Iron John, laddie."

Maxen nodded, fully aware that one of the most powerful wizards was standing a mere few feet away. And he was still cursed.

"You knew, didn't you, lad?"

He nodded again, feeling the pit in his stomach fading away. Iron John was incredibly powerful, but he was also a man of peace. Or so the story went.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did the prince betray you?"

Iron John sighed. "Because I was an idiot. I expected him to help me just because I helped him."

"There has to be something more."

"There isn't. Life be like that, lad. You have to let it go. Come on. You should be heading home."

Maxen's head jerked up. "You're not going to kill me?"

Two dumbfounded grey eyes showed him how mistaken he had been in making such an assumption. "What would that bring me? Nothing more than pain and sorrow. I bet you have a sweet lass waiting for you at home, too." John helped him up and patted him on the back. "Hound's not gonna return with you, I'm afraid. He's headed somewhere else."

"Yariths come when they're needed right?"

"And here I thought you knew nothing" a broad grin split his pink lips, revealing a perfect set of teeth. Grey teeth. Iron teeth.

"Why did he come to me? I didn't need him."

"Who said you needed something?"

Maxen frowned. "Isn't it how it works? A person needs something and a Yarith shows up."

"You do know nothing."

Iron John laughed then. Maxen had heard countless stories of his laugh – one told how it made the earth rumble, one how it called thunder, and one even claimed his laugh could cause a hurricane. None prepared him for the high-pitched squeal that came out of his stomach. It made Maxen laugh, too.

"It seems I'm a bigger fool than you lad."

"How come?"

"A Yarith can sense the future with his forked tongue, just like an old man can sense his death approaching. A Yarith comes when in that future an evil must be mended or averted."

"But I'm still involved."

"Aye, but only as a third-party."

"You mean…He wasn't there for me?"

John nodded with his muscled arms crossed over his wide chest. His grim expression foretold a storm was closing in and Maxen hoped he would be nowhere close when it began.

"Then for who? Marnie?"

"I think he came for me" John's laugh had turned into a frown, making him seem even older than he was.

"For you? Why would he do that?"

"To remind me I still have one thing left to do. I have to get my freedom back."