by Virlyce
James was silent for a moment. He sighed. “I think you should’ve stayed in school.”
Ralph’s eyes widened. “You think so too? It was my dream to become a scholar, but my parents were ill, so I had to drop out and work as a mercenary to pay for their treatment.”
“…Sorry.”
Ralph raised an eyebrow. “What are you apologizing for?”
“It’s—”
A shout thundered across the plains, cutting James off. “Fireball incoming! Magicians, raise your barriers!”
“It looks smaller than before,” Ralph said while looking up at the sky, lowering his visor again. A tiny fireball grew in size as it approached. By the time it crashed into the barriers that the army’s magicians had erected, it was easily big enough to take out a squadron of ten thousand men. Fortunately for them, the barriers held, and the fireball dispersed after letting out an ominous laughter. “Did those flames just laugh?”
“You’re imagining things,” James said. “Keep your eyes on the ground and keep marching. The mages will take care of any aerial threats. Seems like the soul inside is weakening; the intervals between the fireballs are getting longer and longer. We should be done before lunch.”
Ralph frowned and lowered his head. “Is that a good idea? To be done so soon, I mean.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“I mean, once we’re done, we go back to being dead. Shouldn’t we drag this out, so we can stay alive for a little bit longer?” Ralph furrowed his brow. The ground ahead of him seemed to be moving. He spoke again before James could respond, “The ground seems to be … running at us?”
“How can the—”
Squelch.
An earthen spear jutted from the ground and impaled James’ head. Squelching sounds filled the air as thousands of soldiers were impaled before they could make a sound. Ralph shouted and raised his shield to his face. A moment later, an impact struck the metal that nearly blew his arm off. He fell over onto his back, and a chill ran down his spine when a sharp point dug into his shoulder blade. With a whoosh, he was launched into the air, the earthen spear sending him flying instead of impaling him thanks to a barrier that had been summoned underneath him. He screamed on the way down, and landed face first with a splat.
“Ugh, that was horrible,” Ralph muttered and propped himself up with his elbows. The ground was suppressed by a few layers of barriers that were jumping up and down every time they blocked an attack coming from below. “How can one person be this strong? Who’s Zyocuh trying to supplant? A god?”
There was no response, and Ralph turned his head to the side. His friend’s headless body greeted him. “Oh, right. James died.” A sigh escaped from Ralph’s lips as he stood up. The ground had stopped trembling, and the army was reforming its ranks. “I guess I’ll see him during the next raid.”
“Incoming!”
Ralph groaned. What was it this time? He turned around just in time to see a faint, blurry fist rush towards his face. It struck his nose and blew him back by several meters. Like dominoes, the army fell over as a raging gust composed of windy arms and legs washed over them. A high-pitched voice shouted out, “Now, Sheryl!”
Ralph lay on his back, staring up at the sky after being knocked down. Hundreds of little star-like lights winked into existence. “Are those…?” He swallowed instead of finishing his question. The tiny lights grew larger in size, illuminating the sky with what seemed to be hundreds of suns. “Oh. That’s not good.”
“I found it!” someone shouted from behind. Ralph squinted and craned his neck. Standing over him was Lord Briffault, the leader of the archers. A bow that was taller than him was in his hands, a person-sized arrow nocked into place. With one knee against the ground and one leg bent, Lord Briffault aimed his bow up at the sky and grunted as he pulled the bowstring back until his arms were spread as if he were measuring his wingspan. Then he fired.
The red arrow roared through the air, piercing through the windy arms and legs that tried to stop it. It continued past the falling fireballs towards the one unmoving sun. As if it were sentient, the sun tried to run away, but the arrow curved and chased after it, piercing it from behind. There was a prolonged shriek followed by a sudden silence, and the fireballs winked out of existence.
Ralph blinked and raised his visor, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. The fireballs were really gone. His eyes widened, and he hopped to his feet. “Excellent work as always, Lord Briffault,” he said and gave the commander of the archers a thumbs-up.
Lord Briffault smiled, but before he could respond, a black droplet of ink landed on his forehead. He reached up and rubbed his head, lowering his hand to inspect what fell on him. There was nothing on his fingers, and the black substance had disappeared. “Hmm, odd.” He nodded at Ralph. “Good work, soldier. You didn’t do anything yet, but good work nonetheless.”
***
Stella frowned and furrowed her brow. She was hovering over a red boulder with an arrow stuck inside of it. “You alright, Sheryl?”
“Do I look alright?” Sheryl asked and whimpered. “There’s an arrow in my butt!”
Stella tilted her head. “Rocks have butts?”
“She’s an elemental, not a rock,” Vur said from his place on the table. The chains were still tying him down. While the elementals were attacking the army outside, Mervin was working on setting Vur free with the drill he used to poke holes in people who wished for larger mana channels. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working.
“I can’t do it,” Mervin said and shook his head. The drill in his hands disappeared with a poof as he sighed. “The chains aren’t wrapped around you. They’re coming out of you and wrapped around the table. They’re snaking out from inside your body like the spawn of botflies wriggling out of gaping holes in—”
“Stop,” Stella said and threw a bit of red boulder that had fallen off of Sheryl at him. “I don’t want to hear it. If you can’t free Vur like you said you could, then it’s your job to distract the army while Sheryl heals.”
Mervin scrunched up his forehead. “I’m just a single genie king. How am I supposed to stop an army of millions that even three really strong magical rocks couldn’t?”
“They’re not rocks,” Vur said.
Stella placed her hands on her hips. “If Vur wished for you to stop those people, could you do it?”
“Well, yeah,” Mervin said and nodded.
“How?” Stella asked.
“I’d go out there and—”
Stella threw another piece of Sheryl at him. “Then do that! Every second you spend arguing is a second closer to my home’s impending violation!”
Mervin rubbed his forehead where the red rock had struck him. “Alright, I’ll do it,” he said and smiled at the angry fairy queen. He darted out of the cell, disappearing before anyone could say anything.
Sheryl stopped tugging on the arrow embedded inside of herself and blinked at Stella. “Why does he listen to you when you’re so mean to him?”
Stella sighed and lowered her hands from her hips. Her wings slowed, and she landed on top of the red boulder. “You see, Sheryl. Some people…, some people like being treated like that. It makes every part of their body happy.” Stella nodded. “We call those people freaks.”
“Oh,” Sheryl said. She pursed her rocky lips before grabbing onto the arrow again and tugged. “That stupid, stupid archer. When I get this arrow out of me, I’m going to fly out there and stick it up his butt and see how he likes it!”
Stella pursed her lips. Why was she the only normal one here?
***
Ralph wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. He didn’t feel exhaustion anymore as a being made of blood and magic, but going through the motions let him feel human again, if even for a brief moment. A tremor shook the ground and the frontline of the army tripped, delaying the whole procession. A tiny, high-pitched voice that seemed to be floating along the wind pierced his ears, “Greet
ings!”
Ralph and the other soldiers swiveled their heads, looking for the source of the voice. Lord Briffault pointed an arrow at a tiny figure in the sky. “There.”
Ralph squinted at it. “Isn’t that a genie?”
“That’s right!” Mervin said and pointed at Ralph. “Someone give this man a medal. I am Mervin, a genie king! And all of you are now participants of my riddle. Solve the riddle and you’ll be free to proceed. But if you fail…, let’s just say those earthen spears that attacked you earlier will look like tiny toothpicks compared to what’ll happen, alright?”
“This is nonsense,” Lord Briffault said and nocked his arrow.
“Ah! You there, the big fellow with the bow,” Mervin said, his body bobbing up and down in the air. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The last person to assault a genie king had his whole family cursed for the next thousand generations. You might not face any consequences, but you had kids before you became like that, didn’t you? It’d be a shame if your lineage suddenly disappeared through a series of unfortunate accidents. It’d be even more of a shame if it was because of you, right?”
Lord Briffault un-nocked his arrow and lowered his bow.
“That’s better,” Mervin said and nodded. “Now, since there’s so many of you, it’s only fair if there are many questions for you to solve as well. We’ll start off with something simple, but they’ll get harder and harder with every question you answer. The games will begin when all of you sit down.”
Five minutes passed as word spread. When the whole army was sitting, Mervin nodded. “Alright, first riddle!” He pointed at the sky. “What’s big, blue, and vast?”
The army waited for more. Lord Briffault cleared his throat. “Was that it?”
“Yep,” Mervin said. “I said we’d start off with simple riddles first, right? What’s big, blue, and vast?”
“The sky!” someone shouted.
“Ding, ding, ding!” Mervin raised his arms into the air. “Congratulations, you got the wrong answer! It was actually the ocean. Deedee, get ‘em.”
The soldiers screamed as the ground split apart, swallowing up a tenth of the army before closing.
Mervin sighed. “I didn’t expect you to fail the first riddle,” he said. “Since I feel bad for you and my owner mistreats me, I’ll make the next riddle even easier than this one.” He placed his hand in front of his mouth before clearing his throat. “Is a watermelon a fruit, or is it a vegetable?”
The soldiers fell silent, all of them turning their heads towards Lord Briffault. He rubbed his chin. “Is that the whole riddle?”
Mervin nodded. “Yep.”
“…Isn’t that, uh, not a riddle?”
“Says who? I’m the genie king. I declare what is or isn’t a riddle. If you don’t like it, you can turn around and leave.”
“Well, alright then,” Lord Briffault said and crossed his arms over his chest. “I thank you for giving us this easy question. A watermelon is a fruit and not a vegetable.”
“Ding, ding, ding!” Mervin raised his hands into the air again. “Congratulations, you’re wrong again! I really thought you’d get it this time. A watermelon is both a fruit and a vegetable.”
Lord Briffault fell over onto his back. “Wait, what? That’s impossible!”
“Nope,” Mervin said and shook his head. “Look it up in the imperial library.” He shrugged. “Though, I do feel bad since you got the question half-right. I’ll only take five percent of your army this time instead of ten. Deedee, you’re up.”
Lord Briffault grimaced as another portion of the army was swallowed by the ground. The genie floating above them was looking on with a sorrowful face. Perhaps it really was trying to help him with easy questions, but due to his lack of knowledge, he had failed his men. “Please,” Lord Briffault said towards the small creature, “give us a proper riddle where we have to think about the answer, not a riddle that tests our knowledge.”
Mervin tilted his head. “Are you sure about that? I can do that if you really want me to.”
“Yes,” Lord Briffault said. With millions of soldiers, it’d be impossible for none of them to figure out a riddle. But questions pertaining to knowledge…, what if the genie asked something beyond mortal understanding? How’s a watermelon a vegetable? It’s sweet and juicy! It has seeds! Only an expert in the field of watermelons would’ve been able to answer that question correctly, and none of his men were experts in raising watermelons. “Something that we can figure out if we put in enough time thinking about it.”
“If that’s the case…,” Mervin said and rubbed his chin. “Okay, I thought up an easy one for you.”
Lord Briffault nodded. “Thank you.”
Mervin cleared his throat. “Listen up because I’m only going to say this riddle once: When you pay attention to me, I appear quite slow. When your focus turns away, I may fly over your head. You can find me in the sands. You can find me in the sun and shadows. I don’t have hands, but with hands is how people normally catch me. What am I?”
“Now this is a proper riddle,” Lord Briffault said and smiled. “Let’s work together to figure it out, men. When you think up an answer, tell your squad leader. All the squad leaders will take the most common answer, or any answer that you think may be the right one, and tell me. Then I’ll report it to the genie.”
“Take your time,” Mervin said and sat down in the air with his legs crossed. “There’s no rush.”
After thirty minutes of clamoring and writing down answers in the ground, Lord Briffault stared at the words before his feet. There was no doubt about it. “Genie king, I have the answer.”
Mervin yawned and stood up. He cracked his neck by twisting his head and nodded. “About time,” he said. “It’s really so simple. You didn’t have to spend so long on it, you know?”
“About time indeed,” Lord Briffault said and smiled. “The answer, is time!”
“Hooray!” Mervin shouted and threw his hands into the air. “You did the impossible! You actually got the easiest riddle I had incorrect!”
Lord Briffault’s eyes bulged, nearly falling out of his head. “I-incorrect!? What do you mean incorrect!? When you pay attention to the time, it moves slower! When you don’t pay attention, it flies by. You can count the time as it passes with an hourglass. A sundial uses the sun and shadows to tell the time. But you and I can both agree that the most common way to tell time is with a clock! Time may not have hands, but a clock has a second hand and a minute hand. If time isn’t the answer, then what is it!?”
Mervin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “A duck.”
“A…, a duck,” Lord Briffault said and lowered his head. “A duck. I see. It’s a duck. Truly, I’ve never once thought a duck was fast. And—”
“Sir,” Ralph said, interrupting the commander of the archer’s train of thought. “I think the genie is messing with us.” Soldiers screamed as they were skewered by earthen spears and dragged into the ground. “If we answered with a duck, the genie would’ve said the answer was time. There are no ways to win. You have to remember, genies are excellent at twisting one’s words to ruin a wish.”
Lord Briffault raised his head and glared at Mervin. “Is this true?”
“Uh…, no?” Mervin asked. “Really, what do you expect me to say in this situation? You’re asking me if I’m fooling a group of millions of people when millions of you can shoot me down with arrows or magic. Of course I’ll say no. But I promise you that I always have an answer in mind before I compose the riddle. Speaking of which, would you like to hear the next one?”
Lord Briffault looked around. A quarter of the army had disappeared without a fight. “Everyone, on your feet! Is there an archer or magician here who hasn’t had any children?”
At least a thousand people raised their hands.
Lord Briffault nodded. “Shoot that genie down! No curse of misfortune can befall your lineage if you don’t have any. I should’ve ordered this from the start.”
“Oh boy,” Mervin said and swallowed his saliva. “People who can’t solve simple riddles about ducks always resort to violence.” He cleared his throat and waved at the army. “Since that’s how it is, goodbye!” As he flew away, his voice trailed behind him, “You could’ve avoided a disaster if you just solved a riddle, but no, you had to get violent.”
Lord Briffault nodded and looked around again. “Why did we even stop in the first place? There was nothing keeping us here!”
“Sir.”
“What is it, soldier?” Lord Briffault asked Ralph. “You did good work once again.”
“Your hands are black, sir,” Ralph said and pointed.
Lord Briffault looked down. “So they are,” he said and furrowed his brow. “Why?” As a blood person, he should’ve been completely red. And it seemed like the darkness was spreading, crawling up his wrists. “Is this the curse of the genie?”
“Maybe it’s the punishment for failing to solve the genie’s riddle,” Ralph said and scratched his head. “I was sure he was just tricking us.”
Lord Briffault groaned as his hands moved, grabbing his bow and arrow. “My arms, they’re moving on their own,” he said, beads of red sweat falling off of his face. His hands nocked an arrow and pointed it at the army. “Move out of the way! Someone, stop me!”
Ralph tackled Lord Briffault, bringing the commander to the ground. “Oh, that’s not good,” Ralph said and swallowed. His hand had touched the commander’s arm, and now his pinky was turning a noticeably darker shade of red. “Maybe we shouldn’t have threatened the genie.”
22
Lindyss peered over Grimmy’s head and raised an eyebrow. “Well then. That’s on a much larger scale than I thought it would be.”
Grimmy nodded, nearly causing Lindyss to fall off. He was hovering over a palace. Within that palace’s gardens, there was a massive hole with red liquid churning inside of it. Bubbles occasionally rose to the surface and popped, spraying bloody mist into the air. A group of people dressed in white robes were surrounding it, and there was a line of villagers leading towards the hole from outside the palace. One by one, the villagers jumped into the pit, disappearing underneath the liquid’s surface. Some tried to resist and run away after seeing the bloody liquid, but armored guards with pikes prevented that from happening.
