Of Men and Monsters (Nowell)

I stumbled upon some writing prompts for bjd-related stories on Resinality, and couldn't resist writing about Nowell. Prompt 1 was using a song from the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack called "At Wits End." This is the story I came up with.

Title: Of Men and Monsters
Characters: Nowell (Volks MSD F-17)
Word Count: 877
Notes: This story takes place after 10-year old Nowell goes out on a call with his “uncle” Cain and his officers of the Royal Protection Force (RPF). They believe it to be a simple crop dispute, but stumble upon a serious case of domestic abuse. Young Nowell can't understand how a normal person could do such a thing, and runs to find his friends (the children Merry and Lina) to prove his point.

*Disclaimer*: Nowell is based upon the Sci-Fi miniseries "Tin Man." The characters of the movie do not belong to me in any way, however Nowell does.

Of Men and Monsters

Nowell stepped into the dimly lit shack and his eyes widened in shock.

Merry and Lina both lay in one corner, their bodies shivering and shaking in the shifting dust. One of them, Merry perhaps, cried softly. Nowell didn't have to look closer to identify the dark splotches on the dirt floor as blood.

A soft moan drew his attention away from the children and to a pile across the room that he had initially thought was just rags. The pile shifted, and a pale hand slid out into the lone ray of light. Its ring finger bore a simple gold band, carved with a small but detailed flower.

Nowell tried to speak, to move, but his body was held fast by the horrors. He felt himself falling, and knew by the cool dirt on his palms that he had crumpled to the ground. Tears slid freely down his cheeks, blurring his vision and stinging his eyes.

As he looked at the scene before him, a litany of voices raged inside. He heard the familiar words of the legends, the children's tales that had been his lifeblood for so long. The ancient battles, the triumphs of good over evil. Stories of men and monsters; but one was never the other. Yet here in this place he saw fear and pain and darkness, all with a source too human for his gentle heart to bear.

Suddenly the door of the shack burst open and light flooded across the floor. Nowell turned to find Etan collapsed against the doorway, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Wh-what are you doing here? This is my property!” He stepped forward, staggering from exhaustion. “Out of my way little prince.” The last phrase was filled with so much hatred that it struck Nowell like a blow.

Etan lurched again, jerking his tall frame further into the shack. Someone whimpered, and Nowell could hear Merry and Lina shifting closer to the back wall.

“I said, get out of my way!” Etan stumbled forward, fists raised to strike as they descended. Nowell watched them with a sort of horrified fascination as they drew closer. Was this what it had been like for Merry and Lina? For Ada?

A white hot anger suddenly burst alive within Nowell, and he rose to meet the blows. He could feel the power engulfing his core and spilling out, the telltale white light beginning to envelop his body. Etan's face quickly shifted from anger to surprise as his attack was stunted. He found no purchase on the shield that quickly surrounded Nowell,

“No,” Nowell shouted, “no more!” His control slipped, and the light exploded.

*

When the shack finally went dark, Cain and his men approached it carefully. They had arrived just in time to see the light show, and watch the roof explode. Cain had rushed forward in a panic, but Jeb held him back roughly, shouting that it wasn't safe. Now things seemed quieter at least, and the ventured closer.

“By the queen's lavender eyes!” one of the men swore. Cain looked up to see what had startled him, and saw the reason for the roof's explosion.

A tall silvery tree rose from somewhere inside the shack, its branches growing strong and sturdy as if it had been there for decades. Most shocking was the fruit that hung heavy in its branches: Etan. The man's body was encased within the twisted limbs as if it were a cage. There was no fear on his frozen face, but Cain couldn't imagine his end had been peaceful.

Nowell lay at the base of the tree, unresponsive but breathing normally. The children, Merry and Lina were cowered in one corner, their eyes wide with shock. Their mother Ada sat across from then, silent tears streaming down her face. A quick examination showed plenty of blood on all three, but surprisingly no open wounds. Cain and the other RPF officers carefully transported them all back to the town's center for treatment.

No one spoke as they walked, but more than one officer stole sideways glances at the young boy asleep in Cain's arms.

*

Nowell awoke with a start, shaking himself from the grasping claws of a nightmare. The dream had mostly faded, but dimly he could remember seeing the witch's twisted face frighteningly close to his own. Strangely it had morphed slowly into Etan's, and then his.

“Finally awake?” Nowell turned to find Cain leaning against a nearby wall, watching him intently. He blinked, trying to clear the last image and nodded to his uncle.

“You scared me there kid, what were doing?” The older man came to sit on the edge of the cot, and Nowell shrugged.

“I...” He remembered the bruised and bloodied faces of his friends and shuddered. “I needed to help.” he replied finally.

“Well next time wait for back up 'kay?” Cain sighed and tousled Nowell's hair playfully. Nowell tried to smile but failed.

“Uncle?”

“Hmm?”

“It's not like the stories, is it?” Nowell watched his uncle carefully, brow heavy with the truth he was beginning to see.

“No,” Cain replied, placing a gentle hand on Nowell's shoulder. “It's not.”