by Pirateaba
“It’s always been you, Tom. There’s no one in here but you. And me. Heh. Haha.”
I giggle. I hear his voice.
You can’t do this. The Demons are attacking. We need to help. We need—
“Need?”
I cut him off, harshly. I spin, pointing around the room. The Blighted King has lost control. His warriors are gathered around him as he, Nereshal, and a few advisors plot feverishly. The view of the courtyard has shifted. Now I see inside corridors of the castle. It’s a maze, but the Fearless are flooding down it, cutting down servants, fighting pockets of guards.
“Do you think they have a chance? Really, Tom? They’re doomed, unless someone helps them. And we both know you’re not the man for the job.”
Don’t. You can’t!
“Can’t I?”
I raise my voice, lift the delicate fork up. People are shouting, asking their King what they should do. He’s trying to get them to shut up. What a poor [King]! Can’t he see the truth?
Stop! I won’t let you cause a massacre again! I won’t! I’d rather die!
“Sir Tom? What are you doing?”
Now Lady Zekyria is looking at me. I grin at her. She likes me. I wonder if she’ll like me after this?
Don’t hurt her!
“Sir Tom? Are you going to fight? I believe you are needed.”
Yebior is calling out to the Blighted King. Idiot.
“My King, what should I—”
Stop! STOP!
Voices. So many voices! Too many. I raise the fork high overhead and bring it down. Onto my other hand.
“Enough!”
The tines of the fork go through my hand and hit bone. The voice in my head shuts up. I hear it scream and fade. And the room goes silent. I stand, and yank the fork out of my hand. I stare at the bent tines and try to fix one. Disappointing.
“They don’t make them like they used to. Hey there!”
The Blighted King is looking at me! I stroll over, laughing as I see his guards raising their weapons and looking uncertainly at me. I raise my hands.
“Pardon me, your Majesty. Sorry for the interruption, but I needed your attention.”
“[Clown]. What do you want?”
He stares at me. I smile at him.
“Just a word, old man. By the way, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tom. Pleased to meet you.”
I stick my hand in his face. He recoils. What? Oh, that’s the bloody one. How rude. The Blighted Queen hisses.
“How dare you?”
The Blighted King raises a hand, staring at me uncertainly.
“I know who you are.”
“No, you don’t.”
I wag a finger at the King and point to my chest.
“You see, you met Tom. I’m Tom. The same, but different. Better. I tell jokes. He’s one big, fat joke. And he’s taking a break so I can come out.”
“Tom—”
Richard. He pales as I swing around, grinning at him. Emily backs up.
“Richard! Hey, we never got a chance to talk. I’d love to chat, but I’m a bit busy. If you could just hold on—”
“We are wasting time. Remove him. Guards.”
Nereshal looks at me. Ooh, he’s not bothered by me at all, I can tell. I trip up the first guard who comes towards me and throw my arm around the time mage. He stiffens, but doesn’t throw me off. Maybe because of the dagger I have pressed against his throat? Now I have everyone’s attention.
“Good! I don’t want to be a bother, Mister Important Blighted Guy, but I just wanted to point something out. You’re all hot and bothered about this Demon army that appeared, but did anyone think to ask how they got here?”
Nereshal shifts. I push the dagger into his throat and he stops moving his hand oh-so-stealthily up.
“Teleportation magic—”
“Yeah, yeah. We got that the first time, old man. What I mean is, how’d they get past your special teleportation blocker? You were talking about it all day.”
“I do not know. It is here, but it isn’t working.”
Nereshal turns his head and I stare at a younger [Mage] holding a stone in his hands. I grin. All the pieces are falling into place! Just like that.
“Well, well. That makes sense. Hey, your Majesty. Wanna know something funny?”
The Blighted King stares at me.
“Release Nereshal, [Clown].”
“No, no, that’s not the important bit. The knife is—whoops, sorry, scratched you there, didn’t I? Ignore me. Focus on the big picture. I know who let the Demons in.”
Everyone stares at me, an audience of suckers waiting for the punch line. I grin. The Blighted Queen leans forward.
“Who?”
“Him.”
I let go of Nereshal to point across the room. It’s obvious, of course. Everything pointed to him, but Tom was too stupid to put the pieces together. Good thing I’m as smart as he is. Just as ugly, though.
The Fool stops in his tracks, one hand on the door, the other holding Princess Erille’s hand. He turns. I laugh at him.
“Where are you going, Fool? Don’t you want to meet your buddies?”
He looks at me. I wink. The Fool looks around the room. What’s he going to do? He could probably pass it off, pretend he was trying to get Erille to safety, call me mad (which is totally fair), but—oh, no, he’s running!
He nearly makes it out of the door. I think he would have, and with Erille too, if good old Neres didn’t get up and point at the Fool. He freezes in place, one hand flinging the door wide. Time stopped.
“See? Only the guilty run. And idiots. And joggers. The worst of all.”
I laugh as soldiers charge at the Fool. The Blighted King stares at him as the Fool is dragged over.
“Fool?”
“Aw, don’t look so surprised. It was bound to happen. Bad parenting, poor leadership, probably some evil crime the Fool found out about, maybe he thinks he’s her real father. You certainly do a bad job of it, don’t you?”
I sling an arm around the Blighted King and watch him tense up. Hah! I laugh and plant a kiss on his cheek, and spin away. Someone puts a sword to my throat. The Blighted King stares at me.
“How did you know?”
“I’m smart. Hey, nice sword.”
I grab it from the guard and watch as he recoils. Aha! The Blighted Queen lifts her mace. I toss the sword down.
“Oh hush, it was only a kiss. Don’t get all jealous on me now. Anyways, your Majesty, that explains it all. The Fool marked the spot in the courtyard for his buddies to come through, tried to abduct the [Princesses] beforehand—”
“But how did he disable the teleportation ward? It’s right here—”
Nereshal strides over to a glowing stone. I stare at it.
“Pretty. Also: fake.”
“Impossible.”
I kick him in the groin. What? He was asking for it and it’s funny. Nereshal goes white. I pick up the stone from where he dropped it and lift the glowing thing into the air. Sparkly. It’s like a glowing purple…stone. You know what? I’m not good with pictures. I drop the stone and stomp on it.
It breaks. Again, there’s the entire ‘bladed weapons raised’, but I decide to ignore it. The Blighted King stares down at the stone. The fragments disappear as he watches.
“What is this?”
“It’s fake. The [Fool] made it. It’s a Skill of his. Try to keep up. I don’t know how he got it, but I suppose that’s your fault, hmm?”
I glance at Nereshal as he bends over, clutching at his unmentionables. You would have thought his fancy robes would have been spelled to protect him against that. The [Mage] glares at me.
“I should kill you—”
“Nereshal. Enough. This—Tom has given us the answers. Restrain the Fool. I wish to question him afterwards. But we must repel the Demons. Now.”
The Blighted King whirls away from me. I laugh. He turns back. Oh, now he’s getting upset. I’d kiss him again, but he’s too f
ar away.
“What?”
I stroll towards him and a big mace blocks my way. I stare at the Blighted Queen and then lick her arm. She backhands me.
“Ow.”
I think she knocked a tooth out! Wait—yes she did. I get up, laughing, and see the faces. Oh, the faces. They’re all staring at me. Some shocked, others horrified—the way I like it.
Who says I’m not a people person?
“Sorry. Pardon me, your Majesty. I just think it’s funny. That’s all. You people talk about war and ‘tactics’ when you’re missing the point. If you want these—heh—Demons gone, just ask me. I told you how they got in, didn’t I? I’ve got tons of good ideas on how to get rid of them, too.”
“Speak, then.”
The Blighted King looks at me. I stand, clear my throat.
“Okay, have you thought about asking them nicely?”
He stares. The Blighted Queen raises her mace. I roll my eyes.
“Fine. It’s nighttime. They’re rushing through the corridors, probably right here if the Fool told you where they are.”
“So?”
“So…make it harder? Your hallways are nice and bright. There’s too much light! I say…douse the lights. Make it dark.”
The Blighted King looks at Nereshal. The [Mage] hesitates, nods.
“That could slow their progress, confuse them. The palace is labyrinthian.”
I tap my foot on the ground. Wait a second, I forgot my big shoes! I’d better go get them—well, maybe later.
“Now might be nice.”
Nereshal stares at me, and then raises his hand. I see flashing symbols, bright lights as he commands the castle’s magic—I edge over to where Isodore is standing, pale-faced.
“Shove over a bit, will you? I never got a chance at the bread basket.”
She stares at me and flees. I munch down on a loaf as Nereshal does something magical. Bloody. And toothy. That’s going to hurt coming out.
“The lights have been extinguished. Now. [Heart of Darkness].”
He intones a spell or something and the other mages join in. Darkness spins from his fingertips, flooding out the corridors, turning the hallways pitch black. I grin.
“Lights out.”
Now the Demons are obscured from view. But I’ll just bet they’re having a bad time finding their way. The Blighted King stares at me. I grin.
“Well? Time to get a sword and start chopping.”
“We cannot see the enemy. Should we not barricade ourselves?”
I roll my eyes. He’s really not good at this, is he?
“If you want to wait for the Demon King to show up with an army, sure. Otherwise, I’d go corridor by corridor and cut up everything you see with those shiny swords you give out. By the way, where’s mine?”
He ignores that. Skinflint. The Blighted King looks at the projection of his palace in the air. Nereshal’s changed it to a map of the castle. I stare at it. Lots of corridors, rooms…hey, is that my room I see?
“There are servants in the halls. Guests of the crown. If we cannot see our enemy, we may cut them down by mistake.”
I look at him, tilting my head to one side and the other.
“So? They’re dead anyways. If you want, send in your pretty little [Knights] and have them die. But then you’ll lose valuable warriors as opposed to, well, people. If I were you, I’d just blast each corridor with magic. One by one.”
He stares at me. I grin. The Blighted King looks around and realizes he has an audience. He shakes his head.
“Nereshal. Go. Take six of the eight [Mages] here and every warrior that may be spared. Blast the corridors only as a last resort. My lady—”
“I will go.”
The Blighted Queen walks past me, mace in hand. I laugh. And turn.
“Ooh, you’re joining in on the fun? In that case, let’s have a competition, Queen lady. Who can kill more?”
She glares at me.
“I do not compete with peasants.”
“And I don’t compete with Queens. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
She doesn’t reply. She strides towards a door, and the warriors follow. I sigh. The Blighted King looks at me.
“That may not be enough. The mage attempting to create a portal is the real threat.”
“You think? And here I thought you were stupid. Leave the mage to me.”
I grin at him. The King looks uncertain.
“You think you can defeat two of the Demon King’s champions?”
“Eh…it looks like fun?”
I scratch my head and shrug. He stares at me.
“If you are able, I will shower you with wealth and whatever you desire.”
“Pancakes?”
Blank look. No one else laughs either. Tough crowd. I turn. The little voice in my head is back. Oh no, what have you done, what are you doing, so on and so forth. I ignore him. Now, I had a good idea. What was it?
I snap my fingers. The Blighted King blinks. Nereshal raises a hand. Touchy. You’d think I nailed him in the balls or something.
“I’ve got it! I’ll take care of your mage. I just need a few things. Time, for one.”
“Whatever you need, within reason I will give it to you.”
“A map, a [Mage] who can cast a few spells for me, and a few shiny knives, your Majesty. Give me that and I’ll solve your problems for you. Oh, and I want your sword.”
He stares at me. I scratch my head.
“Oh, and some healing potions. I’m going to have to kill some people as well. You said those Demons are all fearless? Sounds like fun.”
I grin. And my smile is bloody. Missing tooth. The Blighted King looks at me as if I’m crazy.
Which I completely am.
—–
The Demons run through the palace of the Blighted King in Rhir. They are armed for war, prepared for this day. Enchanted swords in hand, they slaughter anyone they come across. They have a target.
But they cannot find him. The darkness is all-consuming. The lights that had illuminated their way have vanished. Now a magical darkness steals through the castle, so that those without powerful Skills or magic are unable to see. And those who can see—
Are fighting.
Humans, Drakes, Selphids, creatures of every species hold corridors, fighting. Some are [Lords], others [Merchants] or simple [Warriors]. Some aren’t even meant to fight. But they hold the line as the Blighted King’s orders fill them with strength. Their flesh is like iron, and they do not break.
But their enemies do not fall back. They are Fearless, elite. Chosen. And they push their way further and further into the palace, killing, searching.
A group of sixteen warriors runs down a narrow corridor, weapons at the ready. They are ready for an ambush. They are not ready to hear the sound echoing down the corridor ahead of them.
Humming. A voice in the darkness. The Fearless pause, and their leader holds up a hand. One of them has a shortbow and he fires it ahead. They hear a thunk, an impact.
The humming stops. The Demons move ahead, cautiously. Then they see him.
A Human. He’s large, heavy, shorter than average. His face is dead white, his nose and mouth red. An arrow sticks out of his shoulder. He’s standing in the hallway.
And he’s laughing.
Giggling, as if the arrow sticking out of his shoulder is funny. The Fearless stare at him for a second. They are without fear. Their leader points, they charge.
“Hi there. My name is Tom!”
Shadows in the night. The [Clown] laughs as he tears the sword away from the first Demon and runs the second through. The warriors stab into his stomach. One nearly cuts his arm off. The [Clown] laughs. He grabs one of the warriors, ignoring the blade in his stomach.
“Hahahahahahaha—gotcha!”
He vanishes along with the warrior he’s holding. The Demons turn. They search for their comrade as one of their number bleeds and dies on the ground. The Human is nowhere to be seen. They c
ontinue onwards. They go for ten feet when they hear a voice.
“Hey. Miss me?”
Someone steps out from the shadows behind them. The [Clown] grins. His wounds on his stomach are closed. His arm is intact. He raises two knives and throws them as the Fearless turn. One strikes just above an ear; the other Demon dodges.
“That’s one. Two, if you count the guy I killed. And the girl I grabbed. That was a girl, right?”
The Fearless are without fear. They charge at him, trying to maneuver in the tight corridor. The [Clown] laughs as he cuts into them. Without fear. They cut each other. He grabs another and vanishes. They turn and run.
“Do you want to know how I got these scars? Wait a second—”
He appears down the next corridor, laughing. His wounds are closed. He smiles at the Fearless.
“Have we met before?”
They pause. They stare at him. The Fearless feel no fear. They cannot. Unease, trepidation, terror—all are emotions they have forgotten. But they still feel. And what they feel is—
Disturbed. The [Clown] strolls towards them. They back up. This time they loose arrows at him. They burn his body with magic. He vanishes, laughing.
He appears again minutes later. The Fearless split up. They feel no fear. But they do not understand. He’s laughing. As they cut him, he laughs, as he bleeds, he laughs. And each time they grow fewer in number.
The next time the [Clown] appears, the Fearless retreat. They do not feel fear. But that means they do not understand it either. All they feel is confusion. Uncertainty. They break and run against an enemy they cannot kill. And the [Clown] laughs. He turns.
And vanishes.
—-
I love a good show. So when I appear in the banquet hall, I twirl. The [Mage] who teleported me steps back. I pat his cheek.
“Thanks for the pickup! Beam me up…uh, your name isn’t Scotty, is it?”
He’s panting too hard to speak. Nereshal walks towards me. He has a gash on a cheek. I saw him freeze a corridor full of Demons. All I had to do was walk up and stab them. He takes all the fun out of life.
“Are the Demons still present in that corridor?”
I shrug.
