Reincarnated as the Chosen One in My All-Time Favorite Fantasy Novel: II - Where the Ghost Apples Grow

Marumi did what any sane, rational, reasonable person would have done upon seeing a wide-eyed man carrying a sword rushing at them. She shrieked, then clobbered him on the head with the bucket.

He lay there, stunned for a moment before sitting up. He reached a hand up to rub the side of his head where the bucket had made contact. “You know,” he said. “I probably deserved that.”

Marumi scowled.

Kenichi pushed himself up onto his feet. He stuck Drowsysword into its scabbard and stood in front of Marumi with a big, stupid grin on his face. “I'm glad you're here too,” he said.

Marumi looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Of course I'm here. This is, or was, my inn,” she said.

“When did you get here?” Kenichi said, still smiling. “Was it after I got hit by that bookmobile?”

“Bookmo--?” Marumi took a step back. “I, uh, I arrived here two summers ago. I've been running the inn since.”

Tivareth stepped between them, his hair flowing in some imaginary wind. “I believe our hero has suffered another head trauma and is now speaking gibberish again.” He held out his hand to Marumi. “Let us leave him to his madness.”

“Wait,” said Kenichi. “Don't you remember me? The coffee shop? Every weekend? Even just today, you were reading this book. I think you even liked it.”

Marumi pushed away Tivareth's hand. “I'm sorry, uh, Mr. Hero, but I have never met you before in my life.” Her gaze drifted to the smoldering ruins of her former livelihood. “However, I do begin to feel strong negative feelings toward you.” She gave a half-hearted smile. “I'm sure you meant well, though, burning down my establishment.”

“He did destroy four Kugonin,” Kofi said, pushing himself between Tivareth and Marumi. “Pretty impressive.”

The elf gave an elaborate and practiced eye-roll that seemed to have been created specifically for the dwarf.

Marumi sat down on a half-charred bench. “Yay,” she said, though her heart wasn't in it. “Did any of them have a large bag of gold I could use to rebuild the place?”

Kenichi's smile grew wider. “Say,” he said. “Why don't you come with us? I'm sure we can get enough money to rebuild the inn, and make it even better than before. I'm sure that once we defeat the dark lord Kagamikurai, half the kingdoms will open their vaults for the heroes.” He pushed aside Kofi and Tivareth. “I'll even give you my share.”

“All well and good,” Ash said, stepping beside Kenichi. “But to where are we supposedly going, and who has decided we are to topple the Dark Lord himself?”

Kenichi slapped his forehead. “Oh, sorry. That's not supposed to be decided until the Council of Heavenly Principles.” He gave a nervous laugh, then looked around. “That might take a while.” He looked at Ash. “In the meantime, do you think the kingdom of Velemir could foot the bill for rebuilding the inn?”

Ash glared at him for a split second, then with a practiced neutral face said, “I would know no better than any other here, though I am sure they would be generous on behalf of a hero such as yourself. Though we should not delve too deeply into such supposings at this moment.” These last words he said with a special emphasis he hoped Kenichi would understand.

Kenichi winked at Ash. “I hear you,” he said. Then he thought. As he thought, he spoke to himself. “If we want to defeat Kagamikurai, then we need to hold the council, which means that we need to get to the Angelus, and have the rest of the People of the Light come there, we all need to agree to wage war, and then when that's settled, the nine of us head off and get all the plot coupons we need to beat the boss and save the day.”

“Plot…” said Korrael.

“Coupons?” asid Oren.

“I think the bucket may have had lasting damage,” said Tivareth.

“It takes about a month of riding to get to the Angelus,” Kenichi went out, ignoring the others. “And there's not much in the way of fast travel in The Eternal Blade of Tenrai…”

Before Kofi and Tivareth could say “fast” and “travel,” a horse neighed in the distance.

“That's it!” said Kenichi. He ran to the sound of the horse. The others followed him.

In the open space where they had first found the Kugonin, Pukku was carefully trying to coax one of the Night Stallions toward the stables with a handful of carrots. The Night Stallion meanwhile, was baring its fangs at the small Pokkurin.

Kenichi stepped up beside him. “It'll take more than carrots to win over these creatures, but I like what you're thinking.” He looked back at the others. “These are the fastest horses in the land. They can get us to the Angelus before dawn.”

Momiji tugged on his red beard. “Are you suggesting we ride these foul creatures?”

Kenichi laughed. “No, no, no,” he said. “I think it would do better to have them pull wagons. Two to a wagon would make it easier for us to all get there and get things started.”

Ash had lit a long and narrow pipe, its heavy smoke billowing out of the bowl and resting on the ground at his feet. “And how do you propose we tame such creatures? Master Pukku's carrots only seem to anger them.”

“And before morning,” said Tivareth. “For like the shadows of the night, they fade with the dawn.”

“Easy,” said Kenichi. He stepped over to Marumi and took the bucket from her. “I'll need this,” he said. Then he started marching toward the forest.

Ash hurried after him, swearing and coughing.

One of the other Night Stallions started drinking from a trough, and another started scratching its shoulder on a post. The fourth was pawing through some grass, looking for something to chew.

Kenichi stepped up to the forest. “Enter it where it's darkest,” he said to himself, “and you'll find what you seek.”

“What riddles do you speak, Hero?” said Ash.

Kenichi looked back to see the hunter. “Oh, just something I read in a book about King Arthur.” He stepped into the forest.

Ash followed him. “Which land does he rule?”

“I'm not sure if he even existed,” Kenichi said. Then he laughed. “But then, neither did you.”

Ash stopped. “Was Master Tivareth correct in his assessment regarding the bucket?”

Kenichi looked back at Ash. “Hm?” he said. “Oh! I didn't mean that,” he said, red creeping into his cheeks. “It's just something from my own world.”

“You must come from a strange world,” said Ash.

The two stepped through the forest in silence.

“What is it we seek?” Ash said after a while.

“Let me ask you a question,” said Kenichi. “If an author writes a book, and after the book is published, he declares a fact about that book that in and of itself is not directly supported by the book, but does not contradict anything stated in the book, is it to be considered true?”

“The books I read, Hero, are of histories. That which is left unwritten is either yet to be discovered, or forever destined to be unknown.”

“Please,” Kenichi said. “You can call me Kenichi, or Ken. You don't have to call me Hero all the time. But what I mean is if somebody writes a story and does that. You know?”

“So, you are asking, if the scribe of the gentle lies we use to instruct our children to behave makes a vocal addendum to his work, whether we should treat it as a valid extension of that work?”

“More or less.”

“I would say it makes for a lazy storyteller,” said Ash. “But I stopped listening to fireside tales when I first needed to put razor to my chin. But what does that have to do with what you seek? You hope to find a storyteller in these woods?”

“No,” said Kenichi. “I'm looking for some apples.”

Ash reached a hand up to a passing tree and plucked a golden apple from one of its boughs. “Will this apple suffice, or is the color not to your liking?”

“I'm looking for special apples,” Kenichi said. “Ghost apples.”

Ash stopped. “Why would you seek out such a thing?”

Kenichi turned to look at the hunter. “In the fourth volume of Letters from T. S. Amagami,” he said, “a reader asked what the Night Stallions liked to eat. Amagami said that they were typically carnivorous, and preferred the spoils of the battlefield, but that they could not resist the subtle sweetness of the ghost apples.”

Ash placed his hands upon his hips. “And is this T. S. Amagami a notable expert of terrifying horses?”

Kenichi chuckled nervously. “It's hard to explain, exactly. But let's just assume that he knows more about this entire world than any of us.”

“Very well,” said Ash. “But why do you seek them here? This is just a simple wood with no fair influence.”

“I was looking at a maps in the back of the book one time, and, it's a subtle detail, but even though the books never mentioned ghost apples by name, there is a small area of this forest listed on the map as a ghost apple orchard.” He continued walking. “And if I'm not mistaken, it should be just around the next tree.”

Ash followed after him, and stopped short when he stepped into a clearing. Several translucent trees sat there, equally translucent and ghostly fruit grew upon their branches. The apples, for apples they were, bore the shape of skulls. Kenichi was busy plucking them and putting them in the basket. When it was full, he showed Ash the bucket full of apple apparitions.

True to his theory, the apples won over the Night Stallions. Once they were tamed by the fruit, Pukku and Oren worked together to reign them to some wagons.