Stolen Apples

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Corinthia was just leaving the castle walls when she spotted the two men arguing at the crossroads. One was a young man and the other was older, but they both carried large carts full of nearly identical apples. Her stomach grumbled, she hadn't eaten since the princess and her had departed from the office the night before. The men were embroiled in their argument, hurdling colorful insults at each other, and they didn't notice her sneaking closer to their carts.

"The royal chef has always used my apples for the apple pie in the royal guard induction ceremony! So I suggest you waddle back to that rotting patch of land that you pass off as a farm and keep those degenerate fruits away from the castle!"

"Always is a long time. I'm sure the royal chef is done with putting up with your bland apples in his pie and has moved on to something better. MY APPLES will be used in the pie for the royal guard induction ceremony and so if anyone is walking back home with a cart full of degenerate fruits it is you."

Cory slipped a delicate hand into the cart of each of the farmers, after all it would be extremely unfair of her to steal and apple from only one of these men, and she wouldn't want to show any sign favoritism in this argument. Cory slipped away unnoticed between the men that seemed close to coming to blows over apples, of all things, and reached the cross roads with two signs pointing in opposite directions. One sign pointed back to her home town, Brigsley, and the other to a town she had little knowledge over, Salsipuedes. The logical decision was for her to go back to her home, as another hero was more likely to have heard of the witch Gwendolyn, but Corinthia was afraid that someone would steal her quest from her; so she turned her gaze to the other path and started down the road.

***

Flynn of Brigsley woke up feeling happier than he had in a long time, maybe happier wasn't the right word. He was giddy and excited and nervous all at the same time, and there was a warmth in his chest that kept expanding. He had also woken up at first light, which should of been the first hint that something was wrong with him since everyone who knew him also knew that he never woke up before the sun was high in the sky. He changed into the uniform of the Academy of the Royal Guard and took one last look at his hero-ing attire. Then he walked out of the hero dormitory into the heroes-for-hire office where everyone (he hadn't yet noticed the absence of the snarky Corinthia, and to be honest no one had) welcomed him with a hearty cheer. Malachi, a big man with no hair and a specialty in invading dragon-lairs to retrieve (or steal) treasure, placed a hand on Flynn's shoulder.

"I'm surprised you're awake young Flynn," the giant of a man said with a low chuckle, "especially after your feats of greatness last night".  He referred to Flynn's inability to down even half of the pint that had been offered to him, and Flynn felt himself go red. Flynn was a natural hero, and he had been told so since he was young, but try as he might he could not hold down his alcohol. And a high alcohol tolerance had a whole lot more to do with heroing than one would think. Flynn ate the quickly the monstrous platter that had been served to him, "a hero's breakfast" and received a parting hug from everyone as he left the office (everyone except for a certain inept member of heroes-for-hire). Then the boy mounted his faithful steed and attached his luggage and left.

The sun was high in the sky by the time he made to the cross roads between Allendale and Salsipuedes. Flynn pulled ahead of a pair of apple farmers pissed at each other, he could practically see the smoke steaming up out of their ears.

"I know you took it. You're nothing worse than a thief."

"I don't need to steal anything from you to prove that my apples are superior! I especially don't need to tolerate false accusations from an old-timer like you!" 

In that split second the older man, now bright red in the face, took a wild swing at the boy. The young man dodged it, but wound of dropping his cart of apples causing him to throw the other man's cart over. Flynn jumped off his horse in order to stop the incoming brawl, but it took him longer than he would've liked to due to all the apples rolling around in the dirt.

"Behave yourselves!" He cried stepping in between the two men, "this is not the way that gentlemen in service to the king should act."

"You don't understand, boy" The old man sneered, "And I wouldn't get involved or you might wind up getting hurt."

"Take a hike kid" the other farmer agreed. 

Flynn hated being called a boy, even though he had completed numerous quests people's first impressions of him were always the same. 

"I need both of you to get over whatever qualms you have with each other and make up," Flynn kept his voice steady, ignoring their comments.

"I will as soon as the miscreant returns to me what is rightfully mine" the elder farmer screams.

"I never stole your apple!" The young man shouted back. He then went quiet and his gaze concentrated. "Wait...I'm missing an apple. How dare you! Not only do you accuse me of taking the apple that you simply forgot to pick, but you know take what is mine!"

Flynn could do nothing to stop the young man as he flung himself over the other farmer. He was only able to stop the fight by literally ripping the young man off and holding him back. Just then a booming voice interrupted the altercation,

"What is going on here?"

Flynn quickly turned around to find himself face to face with one of the kings knights, captain of the cavalry, and mentor at the royal academy.

"You boy, you're a new member of the academy aren't you?"

Flynn felt the tips of his ears burn up.

"Yes, sir."

"I repeat, what, in the name of the king, is going on here?"

"These men" Flynn indicated toward the farmers, "are both missing an apple."

"Are you to blame for this?" the captain growled.

"No, sir." Flynn stood up straight releasing the young man, who had stopped struggling.

"Then who is to blame for this?"

"He is!" both farmers shouted simultaneously shooting daggers at one another from their eyes.

"Did you see him steal it?" A voice asked from inside the wagon that the captain had been leading, and a young man stepped out. 

"I know he did it!" the old man answered quickly.

"So you didn't see him steal it, yet you accuse him of this crime." The young man was dressed in clean clothing made from, probably, expensive material, maybe silk and his most prominent feature was a set of thick arched brows. He talked with a hint of arrogance, but his face was bored. "Could anyone else have done it?"

The men were silent.

"Did you see anyone else?" the young man continued.

"Actually, there was a girl..." the younger of the farmers trailed off.

"Yes, she was young, but with strange clothing. She wore breeches instead of a skirt. She was quite tall for a lady and skinny." The old man continued describing a girl all too familiar to Flynn, who now took notice of her absence from this morning. What could Corinthia have been doing so far from town? His thoughts were quickly interrupted and forgotten by the young man's speech.

"There you have it, your thief. Now if I were you I would get moving and pick your apples off the ground before they are trampled. I hear the chef wanted more apples this year at the induction ceremony. The king is hosting a large audience with many visitors coming from far away."

"We should be going now, your grace," the captain addressed the young man. "You too, the academy does not take lateness lightly." 

"Or ineptness" the duke muttered under his breath.




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