The Lucky Fox

Once, in the time before the ages of reckoning, there lived a spirit we now call Stryder, who dwelt among the creatures of the earth. Though not divine, he possessed a most curious gift: he could slip into the bodies of lesser creatures and bend fortune’s wheel ever so slightly in his favor. The gods themselves whispered of his uncanny luck, and some said that even death could not touch him.

One peculiar day, unlike any other, the fates twisted. It was the day when the Lex Fireheart, the Brave One, grew tired of these whispers. He called Stryder before the assembled gods and spoke thus: “You claim to be touched by fortune, little spirit. Let us see if your luck holds when tested by the very powers of creation itself. Choose any creature you wish, and we shall send five of our mightiest against you, one by one. If your chosen vessel survives, you shall join us as divine. If it perishes, so too shall your spirit be scattered to the winds.”

Stryder, ever bold and whimsical, agreed without hesitation. The gods chose their five champions, and Stryder looked about for a creature to possess. The first thing his eyes fell upon was a tiny red fox, no larger than a man’s hand, with bright eyes and a bushy tail. Without a second thought, Stryder slipped into the fox’s body, and the trial began.

The first to test him was Leonne, who transformed herself into a great striped tiger, larger than any that had ever walked the earth. Her claws were like curved daggers, and her fangs dripped with hunger. She gave chase, and the ground trembled beneath her massive paws. The little fox ran for his life, and just as the tiger’s hot breath washed over his tail, the fox squeezed into a burrow too small for the great beast to follow.

Leonne roared in fury, and the very air shook with her rage. She clawed at the earth, tearing deep gashes into the earth. For an hour she raged, but the fox could not be caught, and the gods declared the first trial passed.

Next came Ornim, who saw the fox hiding in his earthen den. “If the beast will not come out,” he declared, “then the earth itself shall crush him where he cowers.” The ground began to shake and groan, and the burrow’s walls started to collapse inward. But the crafty fox had already found another exit, and as the earth crumbled and crushed the empty den, he watched from the safety of a great oak’s branches, his small body hidden from the wrath of his challenger.

When Ornim realized his quarry had escaped, he ground his teeth in frustration, and the second trial was declared complete.

The third challenger was Armara, who saw the fox perched high in the oak. She called forth a great owl, larger than a man, with talons like iron hooks and a beak that could crack bone. The owl swooped down with terrible speed, its shadow falling over the fox like a shroud. But Stryder, calling upon his last reserves of luck, leapt from the branch just as those deadly talons closed around empty air.

The fox tumbled through the branches, his small body battered and bruised, until he crashed into the long grass below. The owl’s talons had torn great strips of bark from the oak, and the tree wept sap like tears. Armara, seeing the fox’s desperate flight, found herself strangely moved by his determination, and she called off her hunter.

The fall had the fox’s winded and bruised. He limped from the grass, his luck mostly spent, just as the fourth challenger stepped forth to finish him off. Tor Aellar, the god of storms, raised his giant hammer to crush the poor creature and put an end to the trials.

Lightning split the sky with a crack that deafened all who heard it. A bolt of pure white fire struck the fox, and his fur burst into flames. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and the fox’s agonized shriek cut through the thunder. His body was thrown through the air like a discarded rag, trailing smoke and sparks, until he crashed into the cool waters of a nearby lake.

The water hissed and steamed as the flames were extinguished. The fox’s fur was scorched black in patches, and his lungs burned with smoke. But the fires subsided and the little beast was still alive. More lightning bolts crashed down around him, so he dove beneath the surface, holding his breath until his lungs screamed for air. The lightning struck the water with terrible force, boiling the surface where it struck, but the strikes dissipated across the lake, and didn’t touch the little fox that swam deep below.

By this time, Lex Fireheart had seen enough. He admired the fox’s spirit, but he would not make the final trial easy. “Let fate itself decide,” he declared, and he too transformed into a fox, leaping into the water beside Stryder.

At first, the gods were confused by this strange act. But then they saw what Lex had seen: the storm and the blood in the water had roused the great crocodiles that dwelled in the lake’s depths. These were no ordinary beasts — they were ancient monsters, longer than three men laid end to end, with jaws that could crush stone. The challenge the little fox had to complete was to survive alongside the god of bravery himself.

The two foxes swam for their lives, their paws churning the water to froth. The crocodiles closed in, their massive tails swooping, their eyes fixed on their prey with cold hunger. Stryder, not knowing that his companion was immortal, saw death approaching for them both. With the last of his strength, he called upon every scrap of luck that remained to him.

It was then that the great oak, struck by lightning from the previous trial, and burning like a torch, dropped one of its blazing limbs into the lake. The water exploded into steam, and a great wave rolled across the surface that crashed against the lake’s bank. The earth itself began to give way. Mud and rocks slid into the water in a great cascade, and a wall of earth and stone fell between the two foxes and their pursuers.

All who witnessed this stood in awe of the terrible and wondrous circumstance. The fifth trial was won, and Stryder was granted his divinity, for surely such divine luck could only belong to one worthy of joining the gods themselves.