Chatterbox: KYNGDOM™ Power of Hoof

*TALE: TWO KYNGDOMS

A Tale of Two Kyngdoms, Part One
By Zephyra

It was the worst of times. That much was obvious. Chaos everywhere. Claaws was dead. Jaaws roamed our land, jaws dripping with Brazen Goo. Catastrophe was always lurking, ready to fight anyone at the slightest provocation. I heard whispers of a “Mutant Army.” And B.I.G. crept ever closer to finding and activating all four of the Powers, which would lead to--what? Utter global destruction? To be honest, I was finding it harder and harder to go to sleep. Dark thoughts swirled through my brain at all hours of the night.

On one particularly hopeless mornings, as I was drooping over a mug of oak root coffee at the Bog & Burrow, I received word from my faithful network of spies that Dr. Cornelia Hornshaw was heading north, toward the Decoy Forest. My go-to tech wiz, Techibeetle, quickly tapped her phone and, after listening to a very disgruntled conversation she was having with one of her chief scientists, we learned that she believed the fourth Power--the Power of Hoof--was located there. In the forest.

Now, this was a little too close for comfort for me, my fellow spies, and the other Guardians. Because we knew that while the fourth Power wasn’t actually in the forest, it was nearby--very nearby, on the hoof of Regina the Silver Reindeer herself. I sent a message to Regina begging her to retreat to her mansion, and then I began planning my trip to the north.

(Another complication: I was supposed to be planning my nephew Little Crow’s Naming Ceremony. It was time. He was of age. But the party would just have to wait--and I felt terrible about it.)

After another mug of oak root coffee, I hit upon a plan that was simple, but so daring that it made me nauseous. I was going to do the unthinkable. I would try to intercept Cornelia before she went into the Decoy Forest, and I would…talk with her.

Yes, talk. A dialogue. I figured that I could use B.I.G.’s technology to make Cornelia understand what I was saying, and then I could explain how dangerous her behavior was. How it would put us all at risk--animals and humans. Naïve? Maybe. But sometimes the best route is the most direct, no? There’s a reason for the phrase “as the crow flies.”

Of course it was a terrible shock when, while flying over the Labyrinth, I heard something rustling about in the suitcase that was strapped to my back--and out popped Little Crow, squawking that he couldn’t let me go alone and he was practically an adult and why did I get to do all the fun stuff? I was furious that he’d snuck along, but it was too late to turn back. Cornelia’s train was literally zooming below us as we flew. Besides, I’ll admit it: sometimes it’s nice to have a sidekick.

When we arrived at Jökull, the mansion of the Silver Reindeer, Regina greeted us joyfully and gave us each a huge, steaming mug of Black Winter Cherry cider. Little Crow was shivering. I was exhausted.

“She’s coming,” said Regina, giving me a meaningful look.

“I loathe Cornelia Hornshaw,” spat Little Crow.

“Little! She’s done some terrible things, but she is a very lost, very confused woman,” I said.

“She thinks we’re stupid. She doesn’t respect the world we’ve built. Why do I have to like her?” said Little Crow.

I was flustered, jet-lagged, but Regina jumped in with grace. “You don’t have to like her, Little Crow,” she said, her mother-of-pearl horseshoes twinkling. “But what Cornelia Hornshaw lacks is empathy. She can’t put herself in our horseshoes, so to speak. So she’ll never truly understand us--or anything about the world, really. Zephyra is saying that if you try to empathize a little with her, no matter how much it angers you, then you will have already won part of the battle.
“And for the other parts--if empathy and reason fail, at least you have an entire network of spies and warriors on your side,” I added.

Little Crow’s eyes were drooping.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said. “Cornelia is probably staying at that human eyesore, the Wayward Villa, tonight, and won’t be striking off toward the Decoy Forest until morning.”

After Little Crow went to sleep, I turned to Regina.

“I’m worried,” I said. “The Decoy Forest never shows travelers the truth. But who knows what she’ll see there? Sometimes half-truths and white lies can lead to the real thing.”

Regina looked down at her fourth horseshoe--the one that was old, rusty, nondescript.

“I am prepared to fight,” she said, simply.