The most epic and legendary hero ever is Will of the Wilderness, the label the Duhart Kingdom gave him. Since his arrival to dominion; he’s grappled with human-eating giants in the Magic Mountains, he rode leviathans like boards in the Narrow Sea, and pulled a star from the dark night and gifted the villages with light. This is just another one of his adventures; another narrative for the storytellers to apprise, another venture for the bards to sing about, and another journey for the children to reenact with wooden weapons in the forest.
The Duke of Oldcastle’s dungeon is damp and unlit, where Will of the Wilderness has been locked up for two sunsets and two sunrises. He’s luckily been in these confinements before and knows how to escape. His scheme begins with tricking the last sunset’s guard for his keys. Then when the close is finally clear, he’ll insert the iron key into his cell lock and turn it to the right to unlock his freedom.
From the cells, the escapee creeps through the Oldcastle Dungeon corridors. He must spring his 6′ 6″ brawn self into the shadows and wait for a patrol guard to pass by. Down the passageway, Will sees the familiar gap in the castle wall, the same space he used before to getaway. Between the gap and him is another guard he needs to dodge, but luckily this one is faint from the pale lager. In passing, the hero recognizes his weapon and carefully reclaims Bone-Wilter (his two-handed sword) from the passed out sentry, then squeezes through the wall hole, and backward dives into the moat.
After an untamed splash, Will of the Wilderness breaststrokes through the brown water surrounding Oldcastle. A reptile resembling a giant alligator snatches Will’s leg with its jaw and pulls him underwater. He strikes the cold-blooded beast with the hilt of Bone-Wilter with enough force to free his leg, then grapples the reptile’s body, and spirals them into an underwater barrel roll. Next, he thrusts the blade of Bone-Wilter into the reptile’s mouth, then grabs both ends of the sword, and steers the beast to the water surface like bicycle handlebars. Back on dry land, Will taunts the creature, “next time, I’ll make you into an alligator cloak.”
Will of the Wilderness sprints through the dark forest like a giant deer stag, away from Oldcastle. He hastens for miles, there’s something following him that sounds like horse hooves clip-clopping among the ground. Did the Oldcastle soldiers finally catch up to me? Will thought. He takes protection behind a boulder and waits in an en garde position gripping Bone-Wilter for whoever is after him. The galloping is adjacent now and stops, “you can come out now,” his pursuer says nonchalantly. Will emerges from the giant rock and sees the arrogant centaur, Duken.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Duken admits, “yes, you didn’t show up for our rematch and figured you chickened out.”
“That was out of my control. I was in the dungeon for two sunsets and two sunrises,” Will explains to the centaur.
Duken smirks, “Again and again, you’re foolish and filled with excuses, and then let’s race now to the Wetlands unless you’re afraid.”
“Only if you want to eat crow and lose another foot and hoof race, the first of us to the Wetlands wins,” Will accepts. Ready, set, the centaur throws a softball-sized rock into the air, and they’re off down the trail when it hits the dirt. The competition navigates through the evergreens, zigzags the giant shrubs, and then through a nomad campsite. Will vaults over their red bonfire. “Was that Will of the Wilderness,” one of the nomads hollers. Duken curses Will’s eminence and moves wide around the massive burning fire. He swears the nomads for them not recognizing him also.
There are twenty more miles of the route from the nomad camp to the Wetlands, the runners enter a thick fog halfway that separates them from each other’s hearing, sight, and touch. Duken’s race is over when he reaches the Wetlands. The centaur doesn’t see his opponent. Did he win the race? “Unwill of the Wilderness must still be lost in the fog, he’s still chasing tail in the forest—I’ve FINALLY beat him,” Duken cheers. His celebration is interrupted by a pat on his right shoulder.
The patter is, of course, Will, “Where have you been, Duken?” he queries, “my patients have been waiting for you awhile now.” The centaur becomes infuriated and maddened by being deprived of another win. A breakfast cook could probably scramble eggs on his now fevering face. Duken yells something in his native dialect, raises himself on his hind legs, and Will has to dodge the loser as he bolts away. Will laughs and always does when Duken loses his composure. “Will, it’s time to come home,” a seraphic voice calls out. Will lost track of the day, it’s almost sunset and time to come home. He can beat a centaur in a fifty-mile race but can’t defeat the summoning of his Mom. The hero concurs the magic of the kingdom, his imagination to turn himself from Will of the Wilderness to Will Wilson, a Lake July Elementary third-grader in Lake July, North Carolina.
Just like that, the Wetlands turn back into a little brook. Will Wilson hides his wooden sword (Bone-Wilter) in some nearby leaves, strides over the stream, and yells for Duke (Duken), his pet golden retriever. The medium-sized dog with a dark golden coat appears from some bushes. The boy and his dog head up the backyard slope to the house driveway (Oldcastle moot) and enter the family house through the porch sliding door (the gap in Oldcastle’s wall). After a bath, Will leaves the bathroom, and strolls past his father asleep in his recliner (the guard passed out from lager) to his bedroom (Oldcastle Dungeon). He’s tired from today’s activity, falls asleep, and dreams of tomorrow’s adventures in his creative Duhart Kingdom.