“Can you handle any more?”

  John nods. Each stone slab on his back must weigh near half a ton. With the sixth now placed by Yael on top of the stack, John feels like he’s just getting started.

  “I think you can start adding them two at a time now.”

  “I am afraid that is all I can spare. Besides, this is far more than is needed to confirm my suspicions. You may rest now.”

  John stands up straight, the slabs sliding off of him and crashing to the ground.

  “Sorry.”

  “It is not a concern.”

  Toad man has been putting John through different tests of strength and stamina. All passed with little effort.

  “Are you ready to tell me what all this is for?”

  “Just one more.”

  The toad man disappears in a blink once again. Walking out from some far corner, clutching a wooden case covered in etchings.

  “This will give me the last answer I need.”

  Within the case is a wooden club. A dark sphere forms the main bludgeon, cradled in a carved head of a Centipede-like creature. The long, curved shaft covered in decorative legs ending in a narrow grip wrapped in some form of leather bindings.

  “This belonged to a very dear friend of mine. I offer it to you. Do not feel the need to be delicate with it. It is far sturdier than it may appear.”

  John lifts the club up with two hands by its heavily detailed shaft. He has seen similar weapons used in olden times by the Native peoples of the Americas.and this was an exquisite example, cared for with great respect. He takes a few moments to admire such a beautiful piece of history.

  “Now, take Mytee by its grip.”

  John moves his right hand to the handle. Wrapping his fingers around the leather. He releases his left hand from the shaft. And…

  “Oh, Jesus!”

  Mytee’s sphere smashes into the stone floor. Leaving a large crack where it struck. John pulls and tugs the grip as hard as he can. To no effect. The sphere is still embedded into the floor.

  “Why is it so heavy? I can’t lift it.”

  “Move over.” Yael pushes John to the side and takes the grip into his claw. “All this fuss over a fancy… a fancy sti… a stupid, little fancy stiiiiiiii….”

  Yael strains as he tries and fails to lift Mytee. Trying every possible angle and hold he can think of.

  “What fresh trickery is this old man?”

  Toad takes Mytee by the shaft and delicately wraps it in a ceremonial cloth.

  “It is no trick. Jonathan Cromptwell, you carry the great strength of Dest. Yet, Mytee has rejected you. This can only mean one thing. You are the Carrier.”

  “The Carrier?”

  “The Sacred Carrier of the Five Powers. Here on Dest you possess the strength of the Apex. However, this power is not yours to own. You must find the true Apex. The true wielder of Mytee.”

  “No!” Yael shouted his frustrations. “We have no need for children's fables. There is a weapon beyond our imagination not 30 feet away. Fix it and we can do the rest.”

  The war machine is impressive. John can only imagine what it might be capable of.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “The Griphion is not broken. It lacks power.”

  “Then send us to find a suitable power source. Anything it requires I can procure it.”

  “It needs Saprophyte. Only a large, pure piece from the core will suffice.”

  Yael goes through all the five stages of grief in a matter of moments. Though instead of acceptance, he rounds back to anger. Balling his clawed fingers into a fist which slammed at full force into a stone pillar. Leaving an imprint of his knuckles.

  “It is hopeless. The Saprophyte were all harvested years ago. Finding a core piece is impossible.”

  Toad waves his small hand. A metal orb of perfect sheen that reflects the world around it flies through the air. Landing lightly upon his finger. Then, with a small flick of that little finger, it shoots out at speeds like that of an artillery shell. Crashing between knuckle imprints on the stone pillar utterly shattering it as if mere glass. As the dust settles, the orb floats back into Toad's hands. Still as shiny as ever.

  “Nothing is impossible. Find the Apex. And you will find your Saprophyte core.”

  A skin map, rolled carefully with string, is placed in John’s hand. He takes it, followed by the now wrapped Mytee.

  “Who are you really? No more riddles. Please.”

  The toad takes a moment, deep in thought. Weighing the option within his mind and nodding to himself as he makes his decision.

  “I am CAUHH Huuhau… HAkUggGUA!”

  Coughing overtakes his whole body. Deep and harsh, squeezing his rips. He falls to his knees and holds his face. John tries to offer some comfort, seeing the blood spots in little hands.

  “Well, aACK… it was… was worth a try.”

  “Are you dying?”

  “In a way. I have told you more than I was allowed. This is all I can do for you. You will find some provisions within your packs. It should last until you find some civilization. Among your rations are some lesser Saprophyte. They should fetch you a good price. Enough to get you started. Take them. Return only when your quest has been completed.”

  John does not move from Toad’s side, helping him to a pew to rest.

  “Do not be sad for me. I have lived a long life, too long. I have seen so many things, learned so much. The rise of empires. The fall of tyrants. I have trained, fought beside, and buried many a great man. I had hoped I could do so again, just one more time.”

  A grand door opens, shining light into the room. Blinding and encompassing.

  “Go. I promise I will be here when you return. Save this world. Save them all. And in doing so, save yourself.”

  Reluctantly, John leaves. He and Yael take their packs, now heavy with supplies, and walk off into the light. Outside, the sun continues to bear down. The temple's exterior is just as breathtaking as the interior. Raised towers surrounding a dome covered in ancient depictions of great feats. Each step taken farther away from the temple causes it to fade slightly more. Slowly disappearing as a mirage in the distance.

  “Yael,” John said with much still on his mind. “Earlier, you called the Five Powers and all that other stuff a children’s fairytale.”

  “It is nothing more than that. Stories told to young ones so they will eat their marrow and floss their fangs. Legends told for a thousand thousand generations and little more. I’m sure you have those on Erphe as well.”

  John knows this to be true. From great old epics of Hercules and Wukong to fancies about bogemen and giant lumberjacks. Mankind has told stories since the first utterance of words. This world is likely no different.

  “Just so I know, what are the fairy tales?”

  “I do not remember most. Twas never my favorite bedtime story. My brother was obsessed with the story of the Gallant. The supposed great champion of my land. The first was Reihne, a Drak’aan like myself. As honorable as he was powerful. He could split the land itself with a single blow, yet was as gentle as a newborn. I always felt my brother was too obsessed with such an ideal.”

  “And this Apex, who are they?”

  “Dest’s champion. The strongest of them all. Legends says they wielded a war club carved from a tree that sprung at the beginning of time itself. I suppose that’s what that twig is in your bag. If you believe such things. I find it all rather amusing at best. There has been neither hint nor hair of any such champions since before my great grandfather’s time.”

  “And that’s all you remember? Nothing else?”

  “Well, let's see. There’s one more I can think of. Their High Sorcerer, the Saga. The first one I remember vaguely due to how annoyed I was as a child during his parts of the story. A trickster that would play with his foes and speak in riddles. An irritating little…”

  They look at each other as the realisation dawns on them simultaneously. They look back just in time to see the last echos of the temple disappear into the sunlight.

  “...toad.”

  John takes out the war mace, holding it once again. It had not the great weight from before, but now a different weight is growing in its presence.

  “Do you remember the name of this toad?”

  “No. Not his true name, that is. My people called him Hephes. He saved our world from a terrible disease many, many long years ago. If you believe such things.’

  “Yes.” John stares off into the nothingness where there was once greatness a final time. “If you believe.”