Overwhelming Firepower

Lucen decided to use his old world’s fairy tales for the play. He decided to use the story of the Brave Little Tailor and The Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was.

Both had a certain rhythm that could carry through a performance, engaging children with laughter and suspense while offering adults clever insights to ponder.

He didn’t need to use the memory-enhancing drug this time. The stories were already etched into his mind, each scene as vivid as a painting.

He could picture the tiny tailor standing atop a hill of giants’ fallen foes, a smug grin on his face, daring the impossible.

He could see the youth tiptoeing through haunted castles and graveyards, skeletons rising and doors creaking ominously, yet never so much as flinching.

The mental images almost played like a film before him, every line of dialogue and every twist of fate already memorized from childhood wonder and countless retellings.

Lucen started writing the story and changed it a little to match the culture of this world, of Norvaegard. Since this world had magic and aura, he needed to tweak a few things to match that.

Each story wasn’t that long, so he was able to write the main part rather quickly. Now, he needed to edit the story a little. Once he was done writing it, he showed it to Harry.

”These are tales for children, but adults can enjoy them as well. As long as you do it right.”

Harry read the two plays and was once again amazed by Lucen’s incredible imagination, not knowing that he was actually just taking another story and revising it.

”These are rather interesting tales. As you said, if done right, it could turn into quite the play.”

Excited to start making the two plays, Harry headed back to his Theater group and started preparations.

***

After a few weeks of practice, the first play to come out was the Brave Little Tailor. Knowing that it was Lucen who wrote the play, and since it was affordable, many citizens came to watch it, including Lucen and other members of Thornefang.

Even Robert reluctantly came to watch the play. He found The Man of a Thousand Quests quite good, and since this one was also written by Lucen, he decided to watch it as well.

The curtains opened, and the play started. The first thing the audience saw was a young man in a room who looked to be a tailor.

Flies started interrupting his work. The flies were created using illusion spells. The young man was irritated by the flies and could not do his work properly.

Some of the craftsmen felt empathy for the young man. They, too, would hate that kind of distraction while working.

The actor playing the tailor took a piece of cloth and swatted the flies, killing them. He was so impressed by his feat that he started shouting.

”I killed seven with one swing!”

He was very excited by his achievements; he stood up from his chair and ran out of his shop.

The curtain closed for a second, and when it opened again, the scenery changed. He was now in the town square, and several actors were on stage.

”Seven in one swing! I got seven in one swing!”

The tailor proudly declared. The townsfolk then started whispering; of course, their whispers were loud so that the audience could hear their funny misunderstanding.

”He defeated seven bandits with one swing.”

”He defeated seven squires with one swing.”

”He defeated seven knights with one swing.”

The more they spoke, the more absurd the story became. The audience couldn’t help but chuckle at the misunderstanding.

As the play went on, the tailor’s tale grew more ridiculous and heroic with each retelling. He was challenged by a giant, played by a tall actor using illusion magic to appear massive, but through wit and luck, the Brave tailor outsmarted him, leaving the audience in stitches.

Children laughed when the tailor tricked the giant, making him seem stronger than he truly was.

Adults, meanwhile, found humor in the way courage and misunderstanding danced together, how pride could shape destiny.

By the end, the tailor had somehow become a hero, a monster slayer, and even a prince, all from a single boast. When the curtains closed, the audience erupted into applause.

Cheers filled the theater. The children shouted, ”Seven with one swing!” while craftsmen and soldiers chuckled, shaking their heads. Even Robert found the play rather amusing.

***

The play did not end with that story, as the group quickly went to the next story soon after. It was The Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was.

The mood changed the moment the curtains opened again. The laughter from the last play faded into silence as a dim blue light washed over the stage. A cold breeze seemed to pass through the crowd, another illusion spell, but mixed with other spells to create a certain atmosphere, subtle but chilling.

The next story began.

A young man, plain-faced and cheerful, stood beneath a darkened sky, holding a lantern. ”I wish I could learn what fear feels like,” he said aloud. The line was simple, yet the tone caught everyone’s attention.

The audience, still smiling from the previous play, quieted down. The playful energy of the tailor’s tale gave way to something strange, almost haunting.

The youth walked through graveyards where skeletons rose from the ground, their bones rattling as eerie chants filled the air. He sat beside them, unbothered, asking if they had anything to teach him.

Even the clerics in the audience found the scene unsettling, but also hilarious when the youth started scolding the undead for making too much noise.

When the youth entered a haunted castle, ghosts and shadowy figures circled him, brilliantly done through a mix of illusion and some smoke. Yet he only yawned and muttered, ”Is this it?”

The actor then looked at the audience with rather sad eyes and spoke. ”Is there really nothing here that could teach me what fear is?”

His voice carried softly across the stage, echoing with just the right mix of melancholy and innocence. The audience grew still. Even the children who’d been giggling earlier leaned forward, curious about what would happen next.

Then, the next scene began, the youth entering a chamber filled with hanging shadows and strange laughter. A fake monster, cobbled together with cloth and illusion, lunged out from the side.

Half the crowd gasped. The youth didn’t even flinch. Instead, he tilted his head and said, ”You look cold. Do you need a blanket?”

Laughter broke the silence. The play slipped smoothly between humor and eeriness. Fear, it turned out, was something for everyone except the boy who wanted it.

Scene after scene, he met horrors both comical and grotesque, a talking skull, a ghostly hand offering him soup, even monsters that threatened to kill him in the most horrifying way. Yet no matter what came at him, he remained unaffected.

The audience alternated between laughing and marveling at his calm.

Then came the turning point. The youth arrived at a grand castle, which the theater group made with the help of the Ironhold craftsmen. It was a castle bathed in moonlight, the illusion spells giving it an ethereal glow.

At the gates stood a herald, wearing a shining breastplate that reflected the pale light.

The herald announced, ”The King has declared, whoever can lift the curse upon the Haunted Keep shall be rewarded with gold beyond measure and the hand of his daughter.”

A murmur spread through the crowd watching the play. The stakes had risen, and even the children leaned closer.

On stage, the youth scratched his head. ”I don’t know anything about curses,” he said. ”But I’ll give it a try. Maybe this would teach me about fear.”

The next scene unfolded with him exploring the Haunted Keep, shrieking spirits, clattering armor, and a spectral beast with glowing eyes.

The illusions were at their peak, swirling like mist around him. Even Robert unconsciously leaned forward in his seat.

Yet the youth merely yawned. ”All this noise... How is anyone supposed to sleep here?” he said, lying down in the middle of the haunted hall. The audience found this amusing; some laughed, and the others held back a chuckle at the sight.

As the night in the story passed, the spirits slowly vanished, unable to frighten or even interest him.

By dawn, the castle’s glow shifted from blue to gold. The curse had been broken, not through bravery or battle, but by sheer indifference.

The next scene showed the King and his daughter on stage, played by older actors dressed in regal attire. The King declared, ”You have done what no knight or mage could. You have broken the curse and freed my daughter’s home.”

The youth tilted his head and asked innocently, ”So... can someone finally teach me what fear is?”

The Princess smiled, stepping forward. ”Perhaps I can.”

A murmur of laughter ran through the crowd. The youth blinked, confused, but then shrugged. ”Alright, I’ll leave it to you.”

The two clasped hands as the lights brightened, a soft melody playing in the background. The voice of a narrator echoed through the theater.

”Though the young man never did learn what fear was, he did gain happiness.” The narrator then continued.

”Fear is not something to learn, it’s something to understand.”

The curtain fell to thunderous applause. The children repeated the lines from the scenes that they found interesting, while the adults were pondering the last line of the narrator.

Even though they understood a little of what they were trying to convey, they did not necessarily agree with it. Fear was a guide to be stronger than you were before.

This play did not become as popular as The Man of a Thousand Quests, but it was a play that children truly enjoyed, and something most people of Norvaegard found hilarious.

With that, Harry, who was busy trying to perfect the two stories, stopped bothering Lucen for a time, but that didn’t last too long.

After some time had passed, he went back to pester Lucen to write some more and argued with Robert.