The Journey


I wanted to write a story for my readers this Holiday season as a gift if a tale could be considered as such.  I decided to write something inspired by the yarn of Christ’s birth.  It is a new take on the traditional Christmas nativity scene presented from a fantasy angle.  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Three camels traveled from the East.  They progressed almost silently across the vast expanse of the desert; no bells or chimes announced their presence as their mounts carried the riders further Westward.

The riders were protected by armor comprised of various styles of bronze mail and boiled leather over silk garments.  Each wore a modest crown over a chainmail cowl.

The warrior-kings had been tasked by King Herod to find a child and bring word to him of the youth’s whereabouts.  They carried with them gifts of expensive taste including gold, frankincense and myrrh to present to the boy.

As they moved ever Westward, the trio noticed the terrain began to change from featureless desert to one of rocky hills and valleys sparsely dotted with patches of grass.  Melchior of Persia, his silks green in color, turned in the saddle and addressed his companions, “Did you hear that?”

The first to answer was Caspar of India clothed in dark purple beneath his armor, “Yes, I did indeed.”  Balthazar of Babylon, his garments near black, echoed his companion’s answer.

As the travelers drew closer to a nearby valley, they heard guttural howls and growling.  Men with frantic voices were shouting disorganized orders to and fro.  They drew up their mounts at the edge of the cliff and beheld a scene of utter horror.  Dark inhuman figures had surrounded almost a dozen shepherds and their flock.  The dark being appeared demonic in nature as they advanced upon their victims.  The shepherds held their staffs out as makeshift weapons to protect themselves from the creatures, but sheepherders were no match for these foul beings who opposed them.

One of the demonic beings broke ranks.  Snarling and howling it sprinted across the rocky ground intent upon rending and devouring the shepherd before him.  A bronze-tipped spear impaled itself into the chest of the creature.  The beast fell to the ground violently flailing about and gasping its final breaths of air.

Arrows embedded themselves into the bodies of half a dozen of the other attacking creatures as three camel-mounted warriors charged into the ranks of vile would-be attackers.

Melchior, with sword and shield, ignored the scratches on his face as he slashed and stabbed his opponents.

Balthazar had recovered his spear and drove it into another creature as he advanced upon the enemy.

Caspar continued to launch salvos of arrows into the monsters as quickly as he could put notch to bowstring.

When the final body hit the ground, almost two dozen demonic monsters had been slain by the three warriors.

Melchior wiped blood and ichor from his face with a gauntleted hand and addressed the shepherds, “Where did these things come from?”

One of the shepherds, still in shock due to what he had just witnessed, cowered before the warrior-king, “We were tending our flock when an angel came to us and told us to travel to Bethlehem to witness the birth of a king.  During our journey, these creatures came from the rocks and surrounded us.”

Caspar retrieved the last of his arrows from the dead monsters and stepped toward the shepherds, “They are all dead now.  We will travel together.  Let us continue on the path.”

Balthazar pointed to a bright star in the night sky, “That star will lead us to the King of Kings.  Let us go and honor Him.”

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