The Ink Jar on the Mantelpiece

Jemima looked at her painting of a tree. It was almost perfect with its golden and green leaves shimmering in a glorious light. Now that it was in a beautiful ornate frame, all that was left to do was to prop it up on the mantelpiece.

She walked over to the fireplace and glanced at the small ink jar atop the mantelpiece. The jar had ink inside of it, yet it has never been used. For some reason, her dad left it on the mantelpiece and didn’t want anyone to touch it.

I’ll have to be careful not to knock it over, she thought.

She carefully propped her painting on top of the mantelpiece and, after a few shifts to the left and to the right and to the left again, took a step back and inspected her work. “It’s good. But that jar is disrupting the view a bit. The painting should be in the center. I wish Dad would put that jar somewhere else.”

Suddenly, the ink jar shuddered.

Jemima stared at it. That’s weird.

The jar jumped, then sat still. Then it jumped around some more like a jumping bean.

Jemima took a step back. “What in the world?”

Finally, the jar went right off the mantelpiece, tumbled to the floor, and…

Crash!

It broke into tiny pieces and black ink splattered on the floor.

“How in the world did it—?”

The black ink turned into big billows of smoke, which spiraled around and around the room like a whirlwind.

Jemima closed her eyes and crouched down on the floor, unsure what to do. “Dad! Dad! Help!”

“Help? Help?! Foolish child! There is no help for you now!”

Jemima opened her eyes. Hovering before her was a large, black serpentine creature with gleaming white fangs and piercing green eyes. “A dragon?!”

“Dragon? Pfft! Shows what you know. I am a wyrm! And not just any wyrm. I am…The Wyrm of Darkness! Mwahaha!”

Jemima scrambled to her feet. “Dad!”

Her father ran into the room and gawked at the creature. “Oh no…” he glanced at Jemima. “You knocked over the jar?”

“What? No! I didn’t even touch it. I—wait a second. You knew that dragon was in there?!”

“Again, I’m not a dragon,” the wyrm said. “Dragons are simply a distant relative of my kind.” He turned to her father. “Seriously, Sir Jeffrey, haven’t you taught your child anything?”

“Sir Jeffrey? What’s this all about?!”

“You don’t know? Is Sir Jeffrey that inept at teaching basic history? Or—ah, I see.” The wyrm laughed. “He thought that by hiding his identity and his past, you would be safe from me. Well, it appears I have burst his bubble! For now you see that I, the Wyrm of Darkness, am not just some make believe boogie man. I am a real being with real powers and a real thirst for destruction and depravity! Sir Jeffrey has failed to keep you safe from me, for I was too strong for his tiny jar, which he has placed on…on…”

The wyrm looked at the broken jar on the floor and then at the mantelpiece. He glared at Jemima’s dad. “Wait. You put me, the most dangerous, vile creature in the universe, the maker of widows, the shadow that haunts all mortals’ dreams, in a tiny jar to place on your mantelpiece?!”

Jemima’s dad rubbed the back of his neck. “Well…sort of.”

The wyrm blinked. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it! You spent all that time and effort to beat me but you couldn’t even bother putting me in a safe or something? How stupid is that?! Do you have any idea how dangerous I am, how feared I am across the cosmos? Do you?! Literally everyone is afraid of me! Everyone! And you treated me like a little knickknack in your own house! You fought me! You ought to know how strong I am!”

“It wasn’t just any ink Jar! It was the Ink Jar of Inescapability!”

“You made that up and you know it, fool! No such thing exists! It’s a miracle I didn’t escape sooner! Blasted ink jar!”

Jemima stared at him. It seemed that this diabolical beast was more insulted by the means of his bondage than the bondage itself. But she had to admit, he had a point. Why would anyone put a beast in a jar, leave it in plain view, and call it a day?

“At least tell me you still have that lousy spear of yours as a precaution,” the wyrm said.

Jemima raised an eyebrow. “You mean the spear with the red tip?”

The Wyrm of Darkness perked up. “Yes! That’s the one! So he did keep it in case of my return. I’m not surprised, given my cunning mind and great strength. He knew I would escape so–why are you sweating, Sir Jeffrey? What’s wrong with him?”

Jeffrey was red in the face.

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong,” Jemima said. “He just, um, is aching to use his spear. That’s right. The spear he has nearby somewhere, just ready to be used to vanquish you again. Totally.”

“He doesn’t have it does he.”

“What? Why would you--"

“What did he do with it mortal child? Tell me, or I will blast you both into a dark abyss!”

Jemima sighed. “He lost it.”

The wyrm blinked. “L-lost it? What do you mean lost it? It was the Spear of Light! The only weapon able to seal me away. How could he—?”

“We moved a lot. It got lost in storage somewhere.”

The wyrm turned away and stared at the opposite wall. “I don’t believe it. After all those years, all that effort was wasted. Me, the threat to all humanity, reduced to a knick-knack! And for what?” He turned to Jeffrey. “Because you got lazy, that’s what! Because you got too cocky and thought nothing bad would ever come from your stupidity and shortsightedness!” He snorted smoke out of his nostrils. “Fine. If you want to be dumb, I’ll make you pay for your hubris! I shall enslave the whole world in an eternal darkness that shall last forever!”

Jemima gave him a look. “But eternal and forever are the same —”

“Silence, wench! I’m in the middle of venting! I shall not be interrupted or cut off by a mere mortal!”

Jemima sighed. “Guess dragons get redundant when they’re angry,” she muttered.

“I am not a dragon!” The wyrm growled. “As I was saying, I shall entrap the world in darkness like I wanted to do before you put me in that dumb jar. Then I shall proceed to rule over the world with an iron fang! And since you, Sir Jeffrey the Stupid, were too imbecilic to keep track of your spear, no one, not even you, shall be able to stop my reign of terror!” He cackled. “Now watch, as I make my dramatic exit out of your pathetic hovel!”

The Wrym puffed out black smoke from his mouth, and the black smoke clung to the ceiling. Within seconds, the whole ceiling and roof was devoured by the shadow. The shadow burped and evaporated.

Jemima rubbed her eyes. “This cannot be happening.”

“Oh but it is, mortal! And there is still more to come.” The wyrm flew into the air, cackling all the way. “Be prepared, fools! Be prepared!”

Jemima stared up at the wyrm, who was now doing figure eights in the sky. “Uh, what is he doing?”

As the wyrm spun around and around in the air, a large black cloud swirled around him. The cloud got bigger and bigger and bigger, until it blocked out the sun and completely covered the blue sky. Everything became pictured black.

Jemima couldn’t see a thing. But she could hear the Wyrm of Darkness laughing and boasting about how awesome he was. “Great. This is just great.”

“Hang on,” he dad said. “Let me find a lantern.” Something clattered to the floor and he yelped. “Stupid coffee table. We need to get out of here and find your Mom. Shadow Snakes will be lurking about soon. Now where is that darn lantern?”

“First wyrms and now shadow snakes?! What’s going on? Why wasn’t I told about all this before disaster struck?! What’s Mom going to think of all this? Do you think she’s okay? This is madness! Why would you leave that creature on the—!”

A small light emanated from below Jemima. She looked down. A small firefly was on her shoe glowing a calming blue. “Where did you come from?”

“It’s Lucy the Lightning Bug!” Jemima’s dad said. “She’s come to guide us out of here.”

“What? Where? Why? And…how? None of this makes any sense, Dad!”

“I know. I’m sorry, I really am. I’ll explain everything as soon as we find your mom and make it to safety.”

The firefly fluttered into the air and flew down a hallway.

Her dad took her hand and led followed the firefly. “Stay close.”

Jemima shook her head. “This is crazy, just plain crazy. And I still haven’t propped up my painting in the right spot. All this because of your silly ink jar!”