Fiction|Fantasy

Faigol’s Big Bash

Is he welcome or will he crash the party?

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His hand was less than steady as he squinted suspiciously at the invitation held at arms length — as if it would bite. But then it may, depending on who sent it.

Were the fey folk up to their trickery for not complying to their demands? Faigol lifted the flask to his lips, taking a long swig of his homemade mead. Was he finally wearing down the curvaceous and fiery Luci?

Faigol’s eyes brightened as he sniffed the card deeply. No perfume. No sulfur. Definitely not from Luci.

Shoulders slumping lower than usual, he again considered the fey folk as he stared at Luci’s spunky portrayal on the wall when his eyes were drawn to the calendar. Several bold X’s were marked off up to today where he had crudely drawn a skull and crossbones. His brother wrote he would arrive today.

Faigol gasped and stumbled backward. He tripped on his cloak, dropped his flask, and landed hard in the enchanted chair — who promptly dumped the aged wizard onto the floor before moving to the corner rubbing its cushion.

His eyes fell to the floor as amber liquid sloshed from the flask. He gasped again as he scrambled on all fours to save his precious drink. Both dogs jumped from their place on the rug to lap up the remnants of Faigol’s liquid courage.

Sprawled on the wooden planks, Faigol downed the remaining mead.

Hands shaking with the decision that any place was better than his brother’s presence, he ripped open the envelope and began reading.

Y̶o̶u̶ a̶r̶e̶ c̶o̶r̶d̶l̶y̶

You are invited to a celebration at the tavern. Be there at noon.

~ Bart and Diela

Why would the bar keep and his wife invite him to a party? He glanced again at the paper and read the bottom line.

P.S. — You get one free drink for coming.

While Faigol was contemplating if he received the invitation by accident, the wall clock chimed noon then the magical bird announced, “You’d better hide, it’s almost time for your brother to arrive.”

Faigol needed no more encouragement. Clambering to his feet he mumbled, “I’ll crash the party if I wasn’t invited. In fact, I’ll be the life of the party!”

With no time to bathe or change, he grabbed the crooked wand from his robe and cast a spell over himself. A quick glance in the looking glass verified he looked presentable, if not somewhat handsome, should Luci be at the party. Faigol licked his hand, smoothed a few stray hairs, and walked out the door as his tiny dragon jumped onto his shoulder.

After a brisk walk and continually looking over his shoulder for his unwanted guest, Faigol stood opposite the tavern weighing his options. Should he sneak in and take his usual seat at the bar? Should he boldly waltz in like he really was invited?

Before he could decide on a course of action, the bar keep spied him across the road and raised his booming voice, “Faigol! Get in here, old man!”

Knowing he was being addressed, Faigol couldn’t help but look around to see if there was another Faigol. Being summoned a second time to enter, he blinked rapidly a few times then hurried to the bar.

Before his bottom had a chance to warm the stool, a tall mug was set before him. As he watched the froth glide down the side, his lips parted, his mouth salivated, and his hand paused halfway to his beloved beverage.

Faigol stole a glance at the bar keep who stood like a watchtower with his arms crossed. “Go on, old man. You get a free drink on your birthday.”

Faigol’s mouth parted to speak but nothing came out. His head tipped sideways in thought, squishing the tiny dragon who squawked then moved to the safety of his pocket.

His birthday? His birthday wasn’t for another…wait…it was his birthday! And they invited him here. For a free drink!

His eyes grew like a child’s who was given free reign in a candy store.

Faigol licked his lips as he grasped the mug with both hands, a smile stretching from one ear to the other. Faigol downed much of the beverage in three big gulps.

When he set the mug on the counter, the bar keep refilled it. “You’re my best customer, Faigol. A bit of a handful at times, but my best customer.”

Several drinks and many birthday wishes later, his vision was blurring and his spirits were high when the bar keep’s voice boomed over the din of voices. “My beloved Diela has a birthday surprise! Bring it out boys!”

Faigol heard gasps and hooting from the men in the room before he saw it. His lips parted and his eyes grew to unbelievable measures as he beheld the most massive birthday cake he had ever seen.

The patrons nearby who saw his expression laughed. Someone to his right belched and commented, “Lucky ol’ coot.”

The bar keep motioned for everyone to join in singing the traditional tavern ditty as he placed a simple brown box on the bar.

Not exactly as one, and sorely out of tune, the tavern bellowed out together.

Here in the tavern where stories unwind, we’ve got a tale of a birthday find! There’s Faigol, growing old as wine, but still upright and moving fine!

May your day be filled with cheer, and perhaps, another beer. Raise your mugs and lift your eyes, for Faigol’s surprise, we did try!

Before the last person finished shouting try, the top of the cake shot off as Diela jumped out. She wore nothing but a little make-shift ribbon around her plump frame, a few well placed brightly colored bows, and a beaming smile.

Faigol screamed like a school girl presented with a dead snake. Over and over.

Mortified, in shock, and without thinking — which actually summed up Faigol’s life — he reached for the wand in his pocket.

Time seemed to slow for everyone present. The bar keep and patrons watched, eyes wide in horror, their mouths parted as if to interject but nothing came forth as Faigol tightly gripped his wand — and dragon!

Faigol’s squinted his eyes tightly shut, turned his head away, and fired. Several electric and fiery fused rounds flew toward Diela and the cake.

A round hit the side of the cake, splattering delicious baked goods on surrounding patrons. One round hit the box on the bar, transforming it to ever-changing iridescent colors. Another went straight for Diela who was screaming just as high pitched and frequently as Faigol. A couple of sparkling bolts flew towards the bar, ricocheted off the mirror, hitting the liquor wall, the still screaming Diela, and a couple of patrons.

When the magical barrage ceased, Faigol stood unable to move, the wand and dragon shaking in his hand. He dared peek one eye open — just a tiny bit.

The bar keep’s face had never been so red and twisted with anger. He pointed all over the tavern, bellowing words Faigol had never heard from the man before — and words he just had never heard.

Faigol’s gaze fell to the marred floor, unable to meet Bart’s gaze or well-deserved tirade.

As the smoke settled, a gentle voice broke through the onslaught of violent words, causing silence to ensue.

Every head in the room turned to see Diela, covered in confection but unharmed. Her arm covered her plump breasts while her hand covered another area. Fiery red hair, once black and speckled with grey, fell over her shoulders. The lack of cake and ribbon exposed her now hourglass curves. “Some help here, please?”

The men continued to stare. A primitive drool formed on each face before her husband grabbed his coat to wrap around her.

With Diela safely by his side behind the bar, the bar keep surveyed the damages — when he could tear his gaze from Diela’s beauty.

Diela was the first to speak. “Faigol, we all pitched in and got you a gift.” She looked to her husband. When he didn’t move and continued staring at her, she placed a hand on his arm then pointed to the color changing box on the bar.

The bar keep’s focus changed while the primal hunger remained. “Huh? Oh. Oh yeah.” He grabbed the box and set it in front of Faigol. “Happy birthday, old man.”

Faigol, still unsure, glanced at the beautiful box, at the patrons and cake splattered tavern, then at the smiling couple behind the bar. Diela nodded her permission to open the gift.

Faigol gently grasped the box in both of his hands, marveling at the friends he didn’t know he had, and untied the simple bow. With his hand on the lid, he looked once more at Diela and Bart, smiling lovingly into each other’s eyes.

As the couple kissed, Faigol lifted the lid. A powerful explosion of glittering confetti erupted from the small box and filled the tavern.

The couple looked up from their sweet embrace to see a very shocked Faigol covered in colorful confetti as if he’d been tarred and, well, confetti’d. It floated everywhere, creating a festive birthday like no other.

Laughing heartily, the bar keep explained, “Well, we all pitched in and bought you a new leather coin pouch. You may have come to this town young and wet behind the ears, causing trouble instead of being helpful with your missions, broke things instead of fixing them, and causing an absolute mess of things. You still do but you genuinely care about these folks and try to contain yourself when you help.“ Diela nudged her husband. “But you are family now. You can even be head of this family. For today.”

The bar keep grabbed his wife’s hand, leading her to their room in the back. Glancing back over his shoulder, he pointed at his patrons, “One free mead for each of you! And you’re helping clean up this mess!” He smiled broadly at Faigol before disappearing with his giggling wife.

Note: Faigol’s brother was going to make an appearance as his enemy but guess what — I couldn’t stand him so much that he got cut and tossed into nowhere!

Jonathon Sawyer, since I was too late for the mash-up I really wanted to write for — I decided to hunker down and combine them!! Sorry it’s a teeny bit over your 1k limit — but if you think about it, it’s still under considering it’s two mash-ups! 💥❤️‍🔥 I’ll take those stale cookies now…

Points for Monday Mash-Up #32
1 - tally box
2 - head of the family
1 - Calendar with X's
5 - Hero's journey - Bart's rendition of Faigol's life
1 - improvised weapon - dragon/wand
1 - confetti
2 - exploding gift box
1 - leather pouch

Bonus points for Monday Mash-Up #31 that I was too slow to receive.
1 - tally box
2 - Surprise party for Faigol
5 - unrequited love - Lucy
2 - Goes to crash his own party - he does make it better!
1 - Diela wrapped in a bow
1 - Fireworks - electric and fire fused rounds
1 - temper tantrum - bar keep's tirade
1 - delicous ingredient - Diela!

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Sweet Chaos — Tickling your senses through fiction writing while shocking you with the outcome! Nothing is as it seems!