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"You won?" a child asked.

[Colour=Pink]"Not yet,"[/colour] MacKensie answered.  What was intended to be a story to stop one child from his constant crying, had become a tale captivating an audience of at least a dozen, children and even some adults. [Colour=Pink]"Aurok was not done with us yet.  With his dying breaths, he began charging his most powerful attack.  A magical explosion - intending to destroy us and half of the canyon along with him."[/colour]  There was a pantomime-like gasp from the ring around MacKensie.  [Colour=Pink]"We had no way to stop him.  All we could do was look on as the magical ball of destruction got bigger and bigger - the screeching noise getting louder and louder."[/colour]  The emotion in her voice translated the fear and intensity of that day, the frenchwoman's eyes almost sightless as she relived the memory.  The audience felt it.  [Colour=Pink]"But then... Arthur - a valiant knight of our party - appeared above us, at the summit of the canyon.  He dove from the top, swinging his incredible anchor above his head like a lasso.  And with one powerful lash, his giant anchor flew towards Aurok, striking the monster's heart, killing the beast and saving us all."[/colour]

"Wow," was the breathless sentiment.

[Colour=Pink]"Arthur lost his life in that heroic attack - hit by the dangerously sharp tail of Aurok - but his noble sacrifice averted calamity for the rest of us.  And rid Mytheria of that dangerous monster once and for all.  He will never be forgotten."[/colour]

"What happened to the water ninja?" one older girl asked.

MacKensie smiled, more out of picturing Arthur's face than anything else, but with a mischevious tone, she said, [Colour=Pink]"That was not the end of our epic struggle with [i]him[/i].  And I promise to tell you what happened tomorrow..."[/colour]  Big groans and moans ensued.  [Colour=Pink]"...if you are all good, and stay strong for your parents, and do as they say - we will continue our tale.  Okay?"[/colour]

It was an agreement 'signed under great duress,' one might say.  MacKensie smiled at them.  Then she set her sights back on the original crying child, a boy no more than seven years old, with big brown eyes and a smile making space for future adult-teeth.  She detached her blue cape from her shoulders and wrapped the boy in it, much to his delight.  He was so small that it went around him a full time and then over his shoulder, swallowing him up.  MacKensie covered a giggle with her fingers.  He was so cute.

A short exchange afterwards saw storytime come to a close.  MacKensie got a quiet 'thank you' from the mother of the boy who was no longer crying but proudly sporting his new adventurer cloak.  She continued to see to the needs of the citizens, but was stopped at the bedding supplies by a woman.

"You had them in the palm of your hand?" the woman said, making herself known.  MacKensie gave her a warm smile.  It was clear from the woman's garb and necklace that she was not of the working and middle classes who were staying in this hall.  "Agatha Pendlebury."

[Colour=Pink][i]Pendlebury?[/i][/colour] MacKensie echoed in her mind.  That name was familiar but she could not place it.  [Colour=Pink]"MacKensie Trydant.  How do you do?"[/colour]

"How do you do?" Agatha returned.  "Come.  You've more than earned some tea and dinner."