No Good Deed

Once upon a time, there was a distant kingdom where magic was rare, and the few Fey creatures that chose to dwell in such a fantastically inert land tended to lead lives of solitude. All the people who lived there had heard tales of fairies, but no one had seen one in over the last hundred years. In their absence, myths of their wonders grew ever more detached from reality. The people began to believe that powder ground from fairy wings could make men soar like eagles and that charms made of fairy teeth would bring great wealth. Indeed, none were more fascinated by fairies than the queen herself who, according to rumors, seemed to believe that she would become a wonderful dancer if she wrapped a fairy around her finger and wore it as a ring.

Well, Jack the Woodsman was a simple man and he had never heard such gossip. He was not one to go to town much and on days that he wasn't busily at work chopping timber, he spent most of his time hiking through the forest and foraging for rare mushrooms to sample, a hobby which had gotten him quite sick on more than one occasion. As it so happened, this day would be one such occasion, and soon after he had bitten into the cap of one suspiciously purple mushroom, he immediately broke out into a freezing cold sweat and began to shiver like the leaves of a tree in a hurricane. His heart pounded like an ogre's fist against his chest and the whole world around seemed to shift into something more dark and sinister. Unfortunately, a lone boogieman in the area sensed the Woodman's tremendous fear, and while normally nocturnal predators such as boogiemen only come out at night, this one had never tasted a dread quite so supreme before and could not help but charge out to stalk such juicy prey. Upon seeing the horrifying form ungodly beast, the already terrified woodsman began to swoon and almost lost consciousness, and the helpless man was sure to become nothing but a delectable morsel in the boogieman's jaws, but just then, fickle luck would turn the tide of the man's fate once more and a delicate fairy, who by chance was wandering by, caught him as he fell and unleashed a radiant burst of light that drove the vile boogieman back beneath the shadows of the trees.

In his stupor, the woodsman mumbled a thousand praises and promised a grand reward, but the fairy gently assured him that there was no need. With the help of the fairy's magic, the woodsman's tormented mind was released from the mushroom's and the monster's combined grasp, and he was given clarity once more. In awe and glee, the woodsman thanked the kind fairy, who was then already fluttering along on her merry way and entering into a mossy old oak stump. The woodsman's heart bounded with joy as he hurried home before any other twists of fate might befall him.

That night, the woodsman went to the tavern to celebrate his survival and calm the tension in his nerves he still felt from his near intimate embrace with death. While initially, he had planned on keeping the fairy's presence a secret, he could not hide the joy in his smile from his buddies at the bar who were curious as to its cause. Sure enough, as the man drank, his lips loosened and he let out the secret that while he was on a mushroom hunting hike, he had almost perished in the clutches of hideous boogieman before a benevolent wisp came to save him. Everyone laughed, assuming he was still high on the shrooms and drunk as a skunk to boot. Nobody truly believed the woodsman's words, but nonetheless they appreciated the enthusiasm in which he spoke, and so the jovial bartender offered two rounds on the house for everyone so that they all could celebrate. The men all drank and were merry, all except for a stranger there among them, a cloaked hunter who seemed to take a particular interest in the man's story. The stranger kept asking for more details, where the woodsman was walking when he was attacked, which direction the fairy came from, and which way it went; the woodsman, entrapped in the liquor's trance, blabbed on and on about every last bit of information his beer pickled brain still held. When the woodsman's speech became to slurred to glean any more intel, the hunter left without another word, and eventually, the woodsman blacked out.

The woodsman awoke to the sound of a hard fist knocking on wood and to the sensation of a pounding headache as he found himself slouching in his bar stool with the brawny tender helping to hoist him up onto his feet. It two hours before dawn and the whole place had been cleared out, and from the countless emptied mugs and tipped over stools, the woodsman could tell that it had been one hell of a night, but judging from the bartender's smile, the man seemed to be satisfied enough with the plump sack of coin he had raked in from the celebration, and so barkeep tipped the woodsman as thanks for riling the crowd with all his whimsical talk of fairies. It was then that the woodsman's heart sank as he recalled the stern visage of the cloaked hunter in the evening when he spoke of the fairy's location.

In an instant, the woodsman dashed forth into the night, leaving behind the bewildered bartender who could do nothing but stand at the door and call out prayers for the woodsman to be careful. The woodsman lit up his lantern as he ran, but his vision was blurred from his hangover and the strangling shadows of the night caused him to stumble on more than one occasion. Eventually, he arrived at where the old oak stump had been, only to see that it had been split asunder with a steel ax that had been abandoned at the side of the road. The woodsman wept and bemoaned the fate of the fairy, but then he noticed something glimmering silver in the twilight, not quite hidden beneath wild grass. He brought his lantern closer to reveal that it was a tiny teardrop-shaped gemstone, with another beside it, and many more trailing off into the distance. A spark of hope renewed the man's vigor by setting his heart ablaze, and so he kept his lantern low to the ground as he followed the trail of tears.

The disheveled woodsman arrived at a beaten-down shack in the forest at sunrise, but it appeared that it was already empty, and a second trail led off away from town and towards the city. The woodsman made haste as to be sure to find the fairy before it could be sold off to some foreign merchant and never seen again. He ran and he ran, stamping down on the fairy's tears beneath his feet. He sprinted straight into the city, following the trail to the gatehouse that led to the castle. The armored guards raised their spears and ordered the then ragged woodsman to halt, but he did not break pace for a second and instead leaped wildly straight over their spears and beelined through the courtyard straight into the castle. Warning bells were rung and crossbow bolts came soaring by, but the fortuitous woodsman was undeterred and continued onward to the throne room, unscathed by the defender's assault.

He burst through the door and in a moment was completely encircled by knights wielding halberds. Beyond them, he could see the scene he had interrupted, the cloaked hunter kneeling before the king and queen and presenting to them the weeping fairy trapped in a gilded birdcage. All eyes turned to the uncouth woodsman, who was panting wildly and cried out "Wait! I need an audience with your majesties!"

The king looked perplexed for a moment, but he motioned for his guards to stand down nonetheless. The guards stepped to the side and the woodsman collapsed to the ground as he pleaded, "That fairy saved my life, please, you can't take her, I've been a rotten fool and it's all my fault she got caught, but please, you gotta let her go!"

The king stroked his beard with curiosity and amusement while the troubled queen pursed her lips and appeared almost apologetic. Then, the king began to speak in a stately manner, "If what you say is to be believed, then it would appear that I have no choice. The laws of this land state that no good deed should go unrewarded. The reward for saving the life of one of my subjects should never be to be captured by some base huntsman, so I will rectify this injustice by freeing the fairy and throwing a feast in her honor. Huntsman, though I am sure your intentions were merely avaricious and not malevolent, I will not offer you any compensation for your prize, and I formally request that you focus your efforts on trapping beasts instead of Ib. And as for you woodsman, whose unwise actions nearly doomed your greatest benefactor and who fanatically trespassed into the royal chamber, I sentence you to apologize to this fey creature and banish you from these castle grounds, at least for the day, and after attending the feast that is." While the hunter left sulking, the rest of the room let out a sigh of relief. The fairy forgave the foolish and bold woodsman, and so they all feasted happily in celebration.

## Variant

There is another version of this tale that is not for the faint of heart and certainly not for those who enjoyed the previous telling, for they say that while it all had been true up until the point that the woodsman arrived at the gatehouse, his fortune beyond that point was a fictional fabrication. Specifically in the courtyard when a hail of a hundred bolts fell upon him. There were precisely one hundred expert arbalests on guard that day, and they unleashed a volley with deadly precision, and some even go so far as to claim that not one missed their mark. The man's desperate plight to undo the wrong he did was noble, but it was also too rash and foolhardy, and there are some miracles that not even the gods can make happen. And so, the fairy was captured for her good act of saving the woodsman and the woodsman was in turn slain for his well-intentioned deed of making things right, proving beyond a doubt that the age-old adage is true that no good deed goes unpunished.