I didn’t realize it the last time I was here, but the “New World” was at the bottom of a rocky chasm which putrid waters poured into from above. Four brown waterfalls drained into the chasm gathering in a large brown lake to my left. The tops of some buildings were still peering out of the lake of waste, which was spreading and rising.
There were no trees.
There were no fields.
There were no lakes.
There was only a giant city, and most of it was already decayed and ugly.
Scammander jerked Eidos by the arm and pointed to me, then walked over with Eidos stumbling behind. How any wizard, Scammander of Johannes, was going to shatter the statue was beyond me. He had not only survived the fall, there wasn’t even a scratch on him.
“Get up,” he said patting me on the shoulder. I stood up and turned around. “Did you all have one of these?” he said as we looked at the giant stone.
“Yes we had rocks,” I said and laughed. “What is it anyways?”
“A law-stone,” he said. “Did you have a law-stone?”
“We didn’t need laws,” I replied.
Scammander took a few dried apricots out of his robe as we looked at the law-stone. It only had one word written on it: Trade. He looked at the pile of fruit in his palm, then pointed at the stone. “Most of the old civilizations had a stone in the center of their city where they wrote the laws, so that everyone could read them and no one would be ignorant of them. Ours, for example, had ten and were written by a philosopher.” He looked up at the sun. “I remember in some of my first tutorials at the Academy, that the elf who wrought our laws in stone was conjectured to have been the very first philosopher.” He kept looking directly at the sun, which was something only he could do. “Does it look like it has moved at all to you?”
I shielded my eyes a little and took a quick glance. “Yes,” I said squinting and looking once more. “Yes, its high noon, and high time we went to work.” We had squandered the morning.
“All in good time Evander,” Scammander said, returning his gaze to the rock. “This ‘society’ had to make it one word because they are too stupid to understand anything other than numbers for financial data.”
“Are you really going to eat those?” I said. “If it’s grown in the soil of this waste pit that’s the last thing I would do.”
He waved his arm. “Nothing from here is made here. It’s all produced from afar and bought at a not inconsiderable expense.” He slipped one of the soft fruits past his lips. “These, for example, are grown in our orchards. I swiped them from the New Year’s Ball.” He chewed and swallowed and passed one to me. He dug around in his robes for a moment, producing a large orange. “This I swiped off one of the food carts I walked past when I was here to destroy this place the first time,” he said as he took a bite of the savory fruit.
“I’m surprised you all even sell things to them.”
“We don’t. But that doesn’t stop some from smuggling them from other kingdoms to this vile hole,” he said as he took another bite then tossed the fruit to the ground. “Did Stunt give you any of those caramel waffles?”
“I never ate any caramel waffles,” I frowned. At least there was no stunt that could save humanity now. I whirled my arm around, loosening it up. I just hoped it wouldn’t expire from all the swinging it was about to do. I looked up from the bottom of the chasm, then over at Scammander.
“Another magical save by your magically returning magic,” I said. I was starting to suspect that he was holding his magic in reserve, but I couldn’t understand why. “Any reason why you think we are continually so lucky?” I cleared my throat. “And just remember, I signed up for all this on the off chance that I might actually die.”
“Magic, if I have any left, comes back for moments due to trauma,” he said quietly. “I thought I told you to read about that. My favorite philosopher dedicated prodigious amounts of pages to the relationship between memory and pain.”
“All of life is traumatic and painful,” I said swinging my other arm. “Seems like you shouldn’t have a problem remembering anything.”
“Well if it keeps returning when I need it—and I really only need it in painful moments—then there is little reason for having that sort of knowledge on hand. Besides, what saved us from that fall was what I shouted from two scrolls, not my magic.”
I looked over at Eidos, who looked very frightened and yet also like he had a lot to say. “What are we going to do with him?” I needed to be sure we were still going to ransom him, since despite what Scammander had said, at first sight he had tried to kill him.
“Break him into pieces or sink him in that putrid pit.”
The statue lowered his head.
Scammander looked at Eidos. “I should kill you for Skepsis, but instead I’m going to ransom you to Johannes. Johannes can kill you if he wants to make a spell.” Eidos began to shake and tremble at the mention of the insane warlock’s name, much the way that a human is seized by fear at the very mention of the word “book.”
“I’ll be lucky if I get out of here without becoming a complete idiot.”
I looked at him, puzzled.
“The air of humanity is said to make one stupider by the breath,” he said then immediately tried holding it, puffing out his cheeks.
I watched and waited to see how long he could go without breathing.
It wasn’t too long. He let lose a long sigh.
“That’s the good thing about having no memory,” I chuckled, “you really don’t have much to lose in a place like this.”
“They call it the ‘New World,’” he sneered. “And it already looks worse than the old one.”
“How long has it been around?”
“Two hundred twenty five unremarkable years,” he grumbled. “They should have seared this place back into the soil when they had the chance.”
“Not like we didn’t do our part,” I said as we began walking through the ruins of the old city towards the center, which was still inhabited. The area was so desolate it looked like even vultures would starve. “Was it always like this? Were they actually stupid enough to settle at the bottom of a waste pit?”
Scammander shook his head. “The victorious races decided it would be fitting punishment for their betrayals. This land actually used to be directly across from the Academy, and as you should realize now, it bordered the fairy lands.”
I nodded.
“So anyways, the archmages sank the earth and redirected the flow of the sewers from all the other races to the pit of humanity. That hole back there that we dropped into used to be their capitol. But now it’s buried under millions of gallons of waste.”
“Amusing,” I said thinking of a city submerged in filth. And humans drowning. Most cities seemed full of filth anyways. “But what was the real point?”
“To try and blot them out,” he said coolly. “To ruin them from afar, to soak their civilization in disease.”
It was only a few days after the New Year, and humanity was already back at work. Being the newest race in the world, they had the fewest holidays and seemed to pride themselves, to the bafflement of all the other races, on the fact that they had the fewest holidays and worked the hardest. We had walked through the only inhabited square of humanity, imaginatively named “Market Square,” before slinking down an alley.
I looked at Scammander, who was peering out into the street. “They really come here every day?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
I still couldn’t quite understand it. “They come to the same place and do the same thing, day after day—until they die?”
Scammander grinned and ducked his head back into the alley. “Absurd isn’t it?”
“I guess I’m not the nihilist I thought I was.”
Scammander shrugged. “Certainly every society has a mercantile element, but in humanity, they are all merchants, they are all ‘workers,’ as they call themselves.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Humans call th
emselves the freest of all the races because they have no nobility and something they call ‘the vote,’ but to any scrupulous observer, they have a hierarchy where the worst rule over the worse.”
“What’s that? Where money rules over the stupid or the other way around?”
“A strange mixture of the two,” he said leaning on his staff. “It’s a system built by the stupid, so only the stupid can obtain money. I wouldn’t waste too much time thinking about humanity. Especially since they won’t be around much longer.”
“I’ve also heard them call themselves ‘capitalists.’ What does that mean?”
“That they deserve the capital punishment,” sneered Scammander.
I looked around as people rushed about around the market square. It was a good thing we had decided to move to the shadowy alley. We certainly would have been caught as we were the only two standing still. “How come none of them are eating?”
“They take pills,” he said turning to me. “You really are a stranger to this world, aren’t you Evander?” He looked back across the market square. “Eating detracts from the time they could be working; they do however drink these things called ‘energy drinks.’ Energy drinks allow them to work faster and longer.”
I heard the scuffle of boots behind me and turned around. Two hooded females in green cloaks approached us from the other end of the alley. I tried to press most of my back into a wall to keep Scammander from putting something unpleasant—like a knife—in it if the opportunity arose, while also giving myself enough room to swing a blade at the approaching assassins. As they closed the distance both drew bright swords, bumping into each other in the process.
“Eidos it’s times like these when I regret assassinating you and blasting you into bits; if only I had let that cleric put your mouth back in place you could tell me who these two idiots are and what they are thinking.”
“I can tell they haven’t swung those swords too often,” I said. “Or even taken them out of their scabbards.”
The murderers finally halted just a few paces in front of us and dropped their hoods. I recognized Aporia from Hexameter’s, but the other I had never seen before.
“Cixous?”
Apparently Scammander had.
“I thought you were dead!” he exclaimed.
“You think that because you are plotting to kill so many people that you lose track of which ones are supposed to be alive and which ones are supposed to be dead, Scammander.”
“What was that new rhyme being sung about him?” Aporia said eyeing Scammander
“Oh by the lowest river Aporia, don’t sing it. It will only flatter him.”
“He’s thought about killing everybody three times, tried to kill everyone at least two times, and will succeed at killing everyone at least once, in time.”
Cixous shook her head. “We’ve been waiting for three whole days! Because of you that giant phallus-tower still stands.”
“Erect,” Scammander snickered, which seemed to infuriate both women. “You’ve got students don’t you? They’re always up for a good march and protest,” he chided. “Just have them read some of your radical literature and then storm the tower. I’m sure your ideas are explosive enough to ignite a revolution,” he could barely finish the insult it was so laden with derision.
“Scammander I should run you through—”
“How manly of you,” he shot back.
Cixous grimaced and stifled an insult. “Where is the merchant?”
“He’s dead,” I said cracking my knuckles.
She glowered at Scammander. “You said you were going to kidnap him. I needed his money to pay for all the explosives you idiots,” she hissed.
“There won’t be much need for money after this night,” said Scammander, kicking the stones by his feet. “So if you must have your money for a revolution, there will be plenty available when the sun rises tomorrow.”
“What tower are we helping them blow up?” It was exciting to hear that someone wanted to start a revolution, but disappointing that they couldn’t wield a sword.
“Algernon’s Aviary,” Aporia whispered. “It is one of the tallest spires in the Academe.”
I nearly burst out laughing until I realized they were all serious. Of all the plots we were wrapped up in—or sabotaging—this one was the most ridiculous by far.
“You’re laughing but you’re the one who should be dead; with all the bounties piling up and sell-swords trying to kill you, you might consider using a more powerful spell to disguise your identity.”
“She’s right. We spotted you three through your enchantment, and that was from a distance. If all these people weren’t so busy they would have noticed you for sure.”
I looked out of the alley at all my foes. “Humanity as a whole doesn’t appear to use its head too much. I half expect the dead merchant to report for work today.”
Scammander grabbed my arm. “Wait till the messenger arrives.”
“That’s fine,” I said stopping. “But I’m going to go look around their square, maybe buy an energy drink or two.” After all, I was going to have to do a lot of work of my own.
I walked into the public square with great streams of people hurrying to and fro, numerous as gnats upon the evening gleam. All hastening onward, yet none seemed to know wither he went, or whence he came, or why he made one of the multitude, yet so was borne amid the crowd as through the sky one of the million leaves of summer’s bier.
In the middle of the rushing torrent knelt one man in dirty stocks who was the subject of public torment. I slowly crossed the square to him as busy feet beat the stones and swarmed by me.
Below his long, greasy grey hair was a gaunt face, stained with dirt and fruit. His eyes no longer looked upon the sunrise of life nor knew to look to the peace in death’s kingdom. Two words had been painted over the top of his head, which I assumed were his first and last names, though I couldn’t see through all the dried and rotten fruit stains. All I could make out now were two fragments, “tian,” and what looked like “Vynter.” What crime could a wine-maker commit that was horrible enough to deserve this kind punishment?
“I…I only asked them to wonder,” he kept stammering while sobbing and trembling in the stocks. He only stopped to wince and cover his head from expected attacks that had ceased for the moment.
I must have gotten too close, because a guard came over. I started to walk away but he called out to me. I froze and turned around, keeping my breathing regular. He looked in my eyes, like he was looking for something in them before speaking. “Sorry friend, we have to check everyone’s eyes. Some wild wizard with a rainbow in his eyes or something is on the loose. Very nice bounty on his head,” he said. Then to my surprise he held out his gloved palm with a rotten cabbage sitting in it.
“Go on, take it,” he said with a dark grin. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind. You need some entertainment,” he snickered and extended his hand further. “Go on, take it. We’ve been pissing on it for weeks.” He laughed a moment, which turned into a phlegm-laden cough. “All of us have. On watch, when we take breaks we piss on a whole stack of veggies. Makes them like rocks.” When I hesitated, he looked around the square. “You want to hit him?” he said from the side of his mouth. “Ten ducats.” He looked down at the vintner. “Better take the offer, he’s gonna die any day now from the looks of him.” He coughed again and turned away and spat at Vynter. The wet pile of spit splattered near the prisoner’s face and slid down the old wood. Vynter resumed shaking and moaning. “We’ve been starving him for over two months now.”
An orange thudded into the stocks and burst near the prisoner’s head. As the old fruit slid down the wood I heard pebbles and glass bounce off the pavement.
The guard grinned. “They bought a lot this morning, but I still got a few of those if you want,” he said still grinning. “Cabbage is free.”
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll take the cabbage.”
He chuckled as he leane
d in and placed it in my hands. As he leaned away he patted me on the shoulder and winked, then turned and began walking off across the square.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Hey hold on.”
He stopped and turned around. I motioned him closer. One of the rotten cabbages hit Vynter square in the forehead and a swarm of children cheered and laughed. The guard threw up his hand to make sure no one threw anything else as he skipped in front of the stocks. He looked back at the crowd and clapped before turning and looking at me.
“I’ll take some of the ones with metal and rocks in them too.”
A tomato and potato thumped into the stocks as the shivering prisoner began to pout and flap his hands around his head in a pathetic effort to protect it. The guard laughed and began walking away again when I called out to him once more. He stopped and turned around, this time looking annoyed.
“Can you see me?” I said.
He nodded.
“Good,” I whispered.
I spun around to the mob of children and sprayed them with arrows. My hood blew back as a stream of halcyon darts sped into the crowd, dropping two rows of filthy human children. Rotten children screamed and cried as I sent more gleaming darts into the crowd as it burst and scattered. I tucked the repeaters away, grabbed the pissed-on cabbage and hurled it in the guard’s face. As he threw up his elbow deflecting the cabbage, I hurled the rock-stuffed tomato and sprayed his shins with the repeaters. The rotten fruit and stones burst around his elbow, but he screamed and collapsed in the street when the golden darts pierced his boots. He moaned and frantically grabbed at his dripping shins and bubbling, bloody boots.
I walked over to him and spiked the last fruit full of glass and metal shards on his head, leaving his face in ribbons.
“Go you loose soul. Tell my prince to spread his gates wide, for this evening I will fill his meadows with so many ghosts.”
Kids lay on the street with shining arrows sticking out of their temples, eye sockets, and cheeks, some with oranges pinned to their hands. I turned my head away from the slaughter and back to the shivering, sickly human in the stocks and pointed the repeater down at his neck.
Splatterism: The Disquieting Recollections of a Minotaur Assailant: An Upbuilding Edifying Discourse Page 24
