Chapter Text
“You asked for me, sir?”
The First looked up from his paperwork and waved him into the room. “Congratulations, Sportacus. You finally get to leave.”
“I don’t understand,” Sportacus said.
The First waved his hand carelessly. “Some town in the middle of nowhere has asked for a hero. They’ve got a godshrine, so we can’t refuse, but there’s no use me sending someone that’s actually competent. You’ll go.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said uncertainly. He’d given up on being assigned a town to protect years ago, consoling himself with the idea that he was fulfilling a valuable role by training other recruits. It was disheartening to find out that he’d only been doing it because they didn’t know what else to do with him.
“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this for your benefit. Frankly, it’s an embarrassment that you’ve been here for so long without being assigned.” The First sighed and flicked through a stack of paper until he found the letter he was looking for. “You have so much potential, but you refuse to fight. You don’t stop trouble with kindness, Sportacus, you stop trouble by putting down the people causing it. Why can’t you understand that?”
It was a sentiment Sportacus had heard many times before, and his opinion hadn’t changed since the first time he heard it. “I do understand it. I just don’t agree with it.”
“Then Lazytown is the best place for you. I don’t know why they’re asking for a hero now, because they haven’t had one in years and they’ve managed just fine. There isn’t any trouble there.”
“Is that the letter from the petitioner?”
The First held the paper out to him. “Somebody called Stephanie. It doesn’t say much.”
It didn’t, either. The request for a hero was written in a child’s careless hand on pale pink paper, and there were no details. Just a greeting, a polite request for a hero to be sent to Lazytown, and a signature.
“It will be good for you,” the First said gently. “You’re not a bad person, but you’re not made to be a real hero. Go there, help them out with whatever little problems they have, and settle in. The city isn’t the place for you.”
Sportacus nodded dumbly. He liked living here. He enjoyed taking the newest bunch of trainees to the markets and making them haul back huge sacks of fruit and vegetables, or guiding them through training runs until they could run the length of the city without getting winded. Even at night, the city hummed with life. There was always someone here to talk to or play with. He’d go where he was needed, of course he would, he’d sworn an oath when he joined, but he’d never truly imagined leaving.
“Penny will give you a pack and supplies for the journey. You leave first thing tomorrow.”
The First snapped his fingers. Sportacus reeled back from his thoughts, blinking. “You’re dismissed, hero.”
“Of course, sir,” Sportacus said, and walked from the room, thoughts swirling. His legs took him to the Worldcallers’ shrine, deserted at this late hour of the morning. He bowed to the Nightwalker and knelt down before the Sunsmith, respectfully bringing his hands up to cover his eyes.
“What do I do?” Sportacus murmured. “The city is my home. I have never known anything else.”
The beginnings of colours eddied behind his eyelids. He took a deep breath of incense and let himself float, ignoring the questions that swirled up to his lips. Green fields and soft white clouds danced through the darkness of his mind. The colours spun about and fed into each other, and in the distance he saw a small, cheerful town. The children there laughed and called to him, waving their hands and smiling. A dark boy with shocking red hair nudged the smallest, who was too preoccupied with the lollipop in his hand to have noticed Sportacus’ arrival. When he looked up, his face broke into the brightest grin of all.
“I told you he’d come back,” the shorter girl said, tossing her pigtails.
“We missed you, Sportacus,” said another girl, dressed entirely in pink with a shocking bob of bright pink hair.
“Both of you, I suppose,” the last boy said, looking behind Sportacus and brushing a speck of imaginary dust from his yellow vest. “What did you bring me?”
Sportacus had the strangest sense that he’d always known these children. He stood up to run and greet them, and the vision vanished. His knees collided painfully with the altar.
“I guess I’m going to Lazytown,” he said, wincing as he rubbed his knees. It wasn’t often that devotees were blessed with a vision. He wouldn’t risk offending the gods by ignoring it. Something important was waiting for him in Lazytown, and he would only find out what it was by going there.
His legs prickled as the blood ran back into them. He must have been sitting there for longer than he’d thought. He rubbed them until the prickling wasn’t so bad, then set off for the storehouse. Tonight would be the only time he had to say his goodbyes.
The sun shone brightly above Sportacus, and he double-checked the rough map Penny had drawn for him the night before. It had been a long day’s walk, but he was finally here.
He gazed down along the road. Lazytown was just as he’d seen in the vision the Sunsmith had granted him, cheerful and glad. There were no children running to greet him, but he could see them in his mind’s eye, happy and waiting to play. He’d packed his favourite ball, and once he was settled in he could start building up a set of sports equipment to rival the Academy. It would be good for everyone.
A lonely building stood on the road before the town, and Sportacus wandered closer to it. The small, stone house was surrounded by a ruined garden, overgrown with grass. The windows were dirty, but he could see the stained glass that was part of so few buildings — except for religious ones. He pushed the door open tentatively, listening to the hinges creak. The inside smelled musty, as though it hadn’t been properly aired out in a long time. Given how small Lazytown was, it probably hadn’t. Most people in small towns had too much to do to take a day off to tend to the shrine. Perhaps the local god even preferred it that way. Bright sunlight, stained purple by the large glass windows, caught on dust motes and cast shadows between statues. He knelt in front of the altar and covered his eyes respectfully.
“I’m Sportacus,” he said. “I’ve been sent to watch over the town and your shrine.”
There was no response, but he hadn’t really expected one. Gods drew their power from offerings and devotions, and in a town this size, they didn’t add up to much. What mattered was that he’d done the polite thing and introduced himself. Even the weakest of gods could make their displeasure known, and he didn’t want to wake each morning to find his milk sour and his fruit rotten.
Something snuffled gently, and he uncovered his eyes. Was someone else in here? There was obviously nobody in the main chamber, but perhaps somebody had snuck into the antechamber that was usually reserved for priests and heroes. He tip-toed over, and sure enough, there was a man asleep on the rough bed. He was far too well-dressed to be homeless, but his striped suit wasn’t something a priest would ever wear. He must live in the town.
His presence might not have been traditional, but he clearly hadn’t harmed the godshrine in any way. He was just… sleeping. Sportacus wasn’t going to wake somebody who hadn’t done anything wrong, even if they were in what would soon be his bed.
“Who are you?” the man murmured. His eyes were still closed, eyelids dusted a murky purple in the light of the window.
“I’m the new town hero,” Sportacus said. “My name’s Sportacus. What’s your name?”
The man opened one eye. “Hero?” he said. “We don’t need a hero.”
“Somebody asked for one,” Sportacus said. “Someone called Stephanie.”
The man frowned and stood up, unfolding his long limbs. He was about a head taller than Sportacus, and had to stoop down threateningly to bring them face to face. “And what exactly do you think you’re going to do here?”
Sportacus shrugged amiably. He’d spent the last ten years being talked down to by people taller and stronger than this man. Intimidation didn’t really do much for him any more. “Whatever needs doing. If there’s trouble, I’ll try to fix it. If someone needs help, I’ll help them. And if somebody wants to play, then I’ll play. I know a lot of sports.”
“And if someone wants you to be quiet so they can sleep, you’ll run around making a lot of noise, I’m sure.”
They were still face to face, and Sportacus could see the bags under the other man’s eyes. That explained why he was sleeping in the local godshrine. It was probably far enough from the town proper to avoid most of the day’s noise. “I’ll do my best to be quiet,” Sportacus said. “I always go to bed at 8:08 each night, and wake up when the sun rises, so you can sleep here during the day if you want to. I don’t mind.”
“You’re one of the Sunsmith’s, then,” the man said. “It figures. You hero types always are.”
He looked so genuinely put out that Sportacus couldn’t help but smile. He looked like a petulant child. “Yes, I am. But my mother was a devotee of the Nightwalker. She was always a little sad that I followed in my father’s footsteps instead of hers.”
The look of disgust morphed into genuine interest. “Oh? Was she a priestess?”
“No, she was a dancer. But she always said she did her best work at night. She said it felt like the Nightwalker — the Insomniac, the Dreamer, He of a Thousand Faces, whatever you want to call him — was somewhere out in the crowd watching her. That he knew she was dancing for him. Mama was so beautiful when she danced that I think he would have come and watched, too.”
“I’m Robbie,” the tired man said abruptly. “Leave your things here and go introduce yourself to the mayor. I still think you won’t last the week, but he must be waiting for you. And if you’re talking to him, you won’t be here annoying me.”
“Okay, Robbie. Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”
“Whatever,” Robbie said, and slunk back to the bed. He lay down with a huff and deliberately turned his back to Sportacus. Sportacus placed his bag in the corner and glanced back at Robbie, who had either fallen asleep very quickly or was doing a very good job of feigning it. He was odd, but Sportacus liked him.
After the purple light of the Godshrine, the outside world seemed very yellow. At least there was no way he could possibly get lost. Lazytown was the only village in miles and there couldn’t be more than thirty buildings in the whole place. The town hall was easily the largest building, with walls painted bright mustard in honour of the Sunsmith and tall marble columns decorating the entrance. Most of the town was the same colour, familiar and inviting. He jogged towards it enthusiastically.
The mayor met him outside the town hall. “I saw you coming from the window,” he explained. “It’s not often that we get visitors, you know. You must be Sportacus! I’m Milford Meanswell.”
“It’s great to meet you,” Sportacus said. “But where is everybody? I didn’t see anybody on my way through town.”
“We don’t go outside much. Why, somebody might hurt themselves!” The mayor laughed nervously. “Or get tired. That would be terrible. I don’t know how we would deal with it. As Mayor I would never forgive myself.”
Sportacus frowned. That didn't seem like the Lazytown he'd seen in his vision. “Don’t the children play?”
“Of course they do! In fact, Pixel got a new game system just this week! My niece Stephanie says it’s very impressive.”
“For a town that seems to be mostly devoted to the Sunsmith, you don’t go outside very much.”
“Oh, no, most of the town follows the Nightwalker,” the mayor said, glancing down at his yellow suit. “Well, I don’t, obviously. But the houses were built by a generation long ago. We’ve kept them in the colours they were originally painted in out of respect for the Sunsmith and the people who founded the town.”
“I see,” Sportacus said. It was very different from what he was used to, and not at all what he had expected.
“Ah, here comes Stephanie now,” the mayor said, “she must be here to show you around the town. I’m quite busy at the moment, you know.”
Stephanie bounded up the stairs, pink and cheerful. “Good afternoon, Uncle! Is this the new hero?”
“I’m Sportacus,” he said. “You must be the one who sent the letter asking me to come.”
“Uncle Milford lets me help him be the mayor sometimes,” Stephanie said proudly. “I’m really good at writing letters.”
Sportacus smiled. “I can tell you’re a very clever girl. Are you going to show me the town? Your uncle said that you might.”
“Yes! It’s not very big, so it shouldn’t take us very long. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”He let her take his hand and drag him down the street. “I’ve only lived here for a few months, but everyone here is really great. They’re going to love you. Miss Busybody’s gone on a trip, but she’ll be back tomorrow. Everyone else is waiting in Pixel’s house.”
“I’d love to meet them, Stephanie,” Sportacus said. Stephanie smiled brightly and led him to a house with an extremely large satellite dish on top. She stood outside it and looked up at a camera. Were they being watched?
“Pixel makes sure we stay up to date with everything happening, since nobody really brings us news by hand any more. We’re kind of out of the way. Sometimes Miss Busybody brings us back things from the city, but otherwise we don’t really see many new people.”
The door swung open and Stephanie bounded into the house and up the stairs. “Everyone, this is Sportacus,” she said excitedly. “Sportacus, this is Pixel, and Ziggy, and Stingy, and Trixie.”
She pointed to each child in turn. Pixel was the dark boy with the bright red hair, who seemed to be scanning Sportacus with some kind of hand-held gadget. Ziggy was the smallest, clutching a lollipop in a sticky hand as he stared up at Sportacus with wide eyes. Stingy was the well-dressed one in yellow, and Trixie was the girl with the pigtails.
“You’re not going to last a week,” Trixie said, sizing him up with a practised glance. “I’ve seen Robbie drive away heroes who were way better than you. I bet you don’t even last a day.”
“My calculations show at least three days,” Pixel said, still tapping away at his gizmo.
Ziggy tugged at the leg of his pants. “Mr Hero, will you show us something cool?”
“I can definitely do that,” Sportacus said. “Let’s all go outside, and I’ll show you what I can do.”
He ran down the stairs and out the door, jumping up onto the wall. The children filed out after him, Pixel rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Are you ready?” Sportacus asked.
“Yeah!” Ziggy and Stephanie chimed. The other three waited, unimpressed. He held his hands up and backflipped off the wall, then flipped around the courtyard, landing back in front of the kids. He smiled and struck a pose as they crowded around him.
“That was so cool!” Trixie said. “What else can you do?”
“I can do a handstand,” Sportacus said, flipping himself over onto his hands. “And I can do the splits!”
He cartwheeled sideways and landed, legs spread, on the ground.
“Wow,” Stephanie said. “You must have practised for ages to learn how to do that.”
“I did,” Sportacus said. “Practising is very important when you want to learn how to do something well.”
“Can I learn how to do that?” Ziggy asked. Sportacus laughed.
“Of course you can! All you have to do is start to do a little each day.”
“Maybe we can start tomorrow,” Stephanie said, looking up at the sky. The sun was edging its way over the horizon, clouds burning a fantastic orange against the remnants of blue. “It’s starting to get dark, and I still haven’t shown you the rest of the town yet.”
“Then I will see you all tomorrow,” Sportacus said. Stephanie took his hand again and led him away before they could get caught back up in the conversation. As they walked, she pointed out each of the children’s houses. There was a mailbox near the park, which Stephanie said was only used within the town for special occasions, because they didn’t have a postman. A small square had a stage set up in it for important events, and there was a broken plaque with the town motto on it nearby.
“And over there,” Stephanie said, then paused. Sportacus looked over at a tall billboard which was painted rather fancifully with unrealistically purple cows. It was ugly, but it didn’t warrant the furtive look on Stephanie’s face.
“What is it?” Sportacus said.
“Over there is where Robbie Rotten lives,” she said. “But he doesn’t come out much.”
“Robbie Rotten,” Sportacus said, thinking back to where he might have heard that name before. Of course! The man in the godshrine had introduced himself as Robbie. “Is he tall? With striped clothes?”
Stephanie’s eyes widened. “You’ve already met him? Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?”
“I’m fine!” Sportacus said. He didn’t understand why everyone was so concerned about Robbie. “He didn’t do anything. Should he have?”
“Uncle says Robbie’s not always very nice,” Stephanie said. “He was the reason the last hero we had left town. Robbie drove him away. But he always gives us sweets and new games to play! He just gets really grumpy if you interrupt him when he’s sleeping.”
Sportacus couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at the godshrine. Robbie Rotten must have been exceptionally good at something to drive a fully-trained hero away from the town. He hadn’t seemed dangerous, though. Just who was he?
“He did seem a little grumpy,” Sportacus said.
“You’re really nice, though,” Stephanie said. “I hope he lets us keep you.”
“I hope so, too,” Sportacus said. It wasn’t even the fact that if Lazytown didn’t work out for him he had nowhere else to go, though that was something he couldn’t forget. It was more that he genuinely thought that he might grow to love it here. Perhaps the First had been right when he said Sportacus wasn’t made for the city. He couldn’t quite place what it was, but he had a feeling that Lazytown was the right place for him to be.
Stephanie shivered. “It’s getting late. Let me take you home,” Sportacus said. “I’m sure your uncle is waiting for you.”
“It’s okay! I know the way. You should get back to the godshrine before it’s dark. That’s where you live now, right?”
“That’s right,” Sportacus said. “If you ever need help, I’m only a short walk away.”
“Bye, Sportacus!”
She skipped merrily away before Sportacus could insist on taking her back home. Well, she was right, he thought. The town really was too small for her to get into much trouble before she got home. The worst thing that might happen to her would be a scraped knee.
He jogged down the road towards the godshrine, throwing in a few forward flips just for fun. Now this was something he didn’t get to do much in the city. There wasn’t the space, except in the training ovals, and they were usually in use. He whooped joyously and cartwheeled up onto his hands, walking upside-down for a while before he flipped back up the right way.
“It might have been easy to impress the children and that doddering mayor, but you’ll have to try harder if you want to impress me.”
Sportacus landed one last flip and looked over at Robbie, who was lounging on the fence outside the godshrine.
“Okay, Robbie,” he said, and jumped onto the wall. He braced his hands on his hips, then jumped into a perfect triple somersault. Robbie made a funny choking noise as he jumped again, landed on the ground, and began doing one-handed push-ups.
“What are you doing?” Robbie asked.
Sportacus looked up mid-push-up. “Impressing you?”
Robbie smacked a hand against his own forehead. “Let’s get one thing straight, Sportaklutz,” he said. “I like to be lazy. I don’t like to be interrupted by overly-muscled heroes who think that rest is a dirty word. This is not impressing me.”
Sportacus nodded seriously. “Okay, Robbie. I’ll have to find another way to impress you.”
Robbie threw his hands up in the air in disgust and fell backwards off the wall, which luckily wasn’t very tall. The ends of his legs poked up above the wall, waving ridiculously as Robbie tried to right himself.
“You should be more careful, Robbie,” Sportacus said, and offered him his hands. Robbie twitched away, then stared up at him, trapped between two bushes that someone had planted on the other side of the wall.
“What?”
“You can’t lie there all night; you’ll get cold,” Sportacus said. “Take my hands.”
Robbie reached out hesitantly, and Sportacus pulled him back up onto the wall.
“I think you just yanked my arms out of their sockets,” Robbie said, looking away. His cheeks burned red in embarrassment.
“Not a problem,” Sportacus said, smiling. “Now it’s really late, so I need to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, Robbie.”
“Ugh!” Robbie said, and stalked off into the darkness. Sportacus shook his head indulgently. Inside, the bed was still warm, as though Robbie had only just got out of it. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.