Now that the skies cleared and the dark portals closed, a collective breath was taken amongst the town. There were many to mourn and more to revive back to good health, but all in all, it was a victory. They’d staved off one of the most threatening gods of the universe.

The shirtless kid in a huge headdress did two cartwheels while sticking out his tongue, stopping right in front of Alan with his arms held out wide. Even though he was small and ridiculous, an incredible power radiated off him.

“Mujungo,” Alan said coolly, his allies walking up beside him.

“Zip. Zeebob! That’s me!”

The clouds all winked at Alan from the sky.

“You, Alan Righteous, saved the town. Ha, ho boy was I right about him, ey, Flint?” Mujungo skipped over to the Wizard and elbowed his arm.

Alan furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, right about me? Are you in control of those frogs flipping around over there?” He pointed. “Seems like they’re the treasure everyone’s after.”

Mujungo’s irises flashed white. “No. Heavens no. I may nudge my citizens here and there in exchange for some rewards the realm has accumulated, but I have absolutely no control over their free will. Who do you think I am? Jaeger?” He did a jumping jack to illustrate how ludicrous the question was, then backflipped, tossing glowing feathers out of his headdress to a round of applause by a few Wizards. “Hah. And my goodness, Flint—what a powerful and loyal being you turned out to be. Rushing back here at any sign of danger. Rebuilding the realm. Taking care of our trees and our livestock. I daresay it’s time to name myself a hand.” He raised his arms and spun, evoking a very exhausted crowd. More feathers flew, teetering unto the chests of near-dead soldiers, reviving them back to health.

“Aha! What an honor that would be! Don’t tease me, Mujungo, you little chumpstarter feline!” Flint’s energy started to return. Seeing cleaved soldiers getting to their feet was no doubt a welcome sight after two straight days of mayhem.

“Wouldn’t dream of teasing, mangy smooth-faced creepster!” Mujungo’s headdress sparkled with colors.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Black Saro emanated from Alan’s arms. His anger was growing. Yes, he was alive. Yes, Mujungo’s presence ultimately saved the day, but a god with less of an attention span than one of his salt-swimming fish was not someone he wanted to be around right now. Something didn’t quite sit right. “What do you mean, you were right about me?”

Mujungo cleared his throat. “Oh, yes, about that, Alan.” He marched up to him dramatically, kicking one converse-style shoe high in front of the other. “Remember that Archer back on Earth?”

Anger boiled fiercely inside him—similar flashes that erupted when facing Afarus, or the Hendra, or Hyndole. He had a feeling what was coming and was scared of his own reaction if it were true.

“He was one of mine.” Mujungo frowned.

Alan wanted to roar and stab the god where he stood, but surprisingly, the meditation Trish had taught him brightened in his mind. The serene aspects of his Colorless Saro that he practiced so long calmed him back to stasis, as did Neesha’s comforting grip around his arm.

“Are you messing with me, god of the strange?” Alan spoke coolly.

“Alan.” Flint lifted his arms pleadingly.

“No, Flint. I’m addressing our ‘god’ while we have him.” Alan looked to his other allies. “Legion of Fate, tribe of Borai, Lord Osmi, if you wish to leave before I disrespect a deity, I understand.”

They all stood firm, Elkire straightening atop his gryphon at the forefront. “I may not speak for all behind me, but I’d hope we’d stand for justice, when it is due, just as we would defend the innocent against a conqueror.”

“Hmmph.” Mujungo bent at the waist, pouting in a most exaggerated manner. “I’m not messing with you, Alan. It’s the truth. You are here… because of me.”

“Why?”

Soldiers gathered in the town square now that the injured were all inside the Healers’ quarters, while the dead were still being cleared.

“Why. Yes, indeed.” Mujungo nodded twitchingly, his feathers dancing like a piano. “There are certain absolutes that we… as gods… see, Alan. We know after an Origin World death, a soul is reborn into this universe. We know that certain characteristics there equate to vibrant potential here. Particularly… wasted potential. Someone with clear talent getting stomped out over and over again by circumstance, or attitude, or whatever environmental mishaps, will likely thrive here. So what if I nudged things along a bit? In the end, wasn’t I right?”

Alan did his best to remain calm and ground out, “My life wasn’t yours to take.”

“Wasn’t it, though? I did take it, after all.” Mujungo tilted his head.

“Actions like that make you no better than Jaeger. You stripped me of my life, my freedom to live. It’s exactly against what you preach. Jaeger wants those frogs for the very same reason, I’d guess.”

“Origins are overrated, Alan bebop tickles.” Mujungo rolled into a shiny ball, zipped through Alan’s legs, and unfurled with a clean landing like he just performed a gymnast routine. “One day soon when you’re a god, you’ll understand.”

The crowd gasped.

“A god? I thought he was touted to be a Herald?” whispers chimed around them.

“Alan is to be even more than Flint prophesied?”

Alan scoffed at all of it. “Thankfully, Flint’s call pulled me out of that fate. Because if he hadn’t, I may one day have wound up as something like you. A screwed-up, extreme set of ideas hanging onto sanity by a thread and playing with your power like a monster. To be a god is overrated. And I’m glad I listened to my instincts. Strangey Town was never to be my home.”

The crowd gasped again.

“That is true, Alan poopoo lecture fire-ass. Though I sensed your potential through portals of unknowable irrelevance, from far, far away, I also knew you did not belong with me the second you arrived. But a strong ally you will very well be. And a god, too.”

“Do you have wax in your ears, Mujungo?”

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

“Plenty.” He dug his fingers in and pulled out purple confetti string that he tossed high in the sky. “When I was a jester for a queen in Boombaloo, writing plays and doing whatever I could to make my royalty laugh, I learned a thing or two about a faction’s duty to its people. I learned that love for one’s world is not absolute. I hated the prince yet revered the king and queen. When my fellow jesters spit on me, one cleaned me up and gave me a shot. You may hate me, Alan poopoo platter, but I’ve watched other connections grow in your time here. Flint is your brother. Neesha, your love. Lucius, your bitter prince, and Ojin… your home.”

Alan’s emotions simmered. The god was actually starting to make sense and expertly diverting his attention to those who mattered to him.

“And now, we’re going find out what you’re going to do when the universe—and all you care for—goes to war.”

Alan clenched his jaw.

“You say you will not become a god. But in war, allies need gods.” Mujungo spread his arms, looking to all his citizens.

“Alan! Hoo!” the soldiers cheered. “Alan! Hoo!”

Wizards started banging their staves on the ground, sending pulses of their colored Saro rippling through the cracks. Hunters used their mounts to settle atop buildings, shouting to the skies. “Alan! Alan!”

He took in the scene, passing his gaze over all the warriors he stood behind to thwart Jaeger’s declaration of war. Even if Mujungo did screw him over on Earth, he cared for many of these people, bled beside them. Flint most of all. The one who believed in him from his very first day.

“Strangey Town loves you, Alan.” Mujungo smiled ear to ear, shouting over the crowd, “They love you. And deep down you must know, I am a lesser evil than Jaeger. I seek not to conquer but to defend and prosper. My realm remains as zany as possible, Junos keeps his towers and his castles, Relia commands her cloud city. Let us all exist in harmony, chasing our aspirations. Become a god, Alan! Protect this way!”

Alan drew his Soul Collector and swung out all of the souls he’d been conspiring with over the past months, allowing them to experience the realm cheering for him. They just peered at Alan. Afarus, Trio, and Durger. He then looked to his guardians—Yogi, Gardstrife, and Hendra standing tall at his back. He even flipped out Figro again.

It wasn’t a flex, just more of a confirmation that his choice was the right one. He needed to look all of his friends and guardians in the eyes. After suffering near death in war, their expression conveyed even fiercer loyalty to him.

Finally, Alan held his hand up in thanks, quieting the cheers. It took almost a full minute, but eventually he glared at Mujungo, feeling the weight of thousands of eyes on him.

“To be a god is to be bound to the laws of the universe. Confined to your realm, summoned only upon tragedy. It isn’t for me. Not yet, anyway.”

Mujungo took a deep breath, his little chest puffing with air.

“You gods all take pride living in the little bubbles you govern. But what happens when those little bubbles aren’t enough? As a mortal, I brought you gods together. I am a broker of worlds… one who can do more on the ground with my friends than I can in the sky.”

His voice echoed through the silence.

Neesha slipped an arm around his waist, followed by Flint putting his around his shoulders.

“Alan, the noble!” A hunter atop a dragon perched on a roof raised his sword.

“Alan, the noble!” another cry came from behind him.

“See?” Mujungo shrugged, smiling sadly. “I have no power over your fate. So long as you shine beside us, that will be enough for me.” His headdress shimmered.

“I haven’t decided how I feel about you having me murdered yet, Mujungo. Though I agree you are currently the lesser evil, I’d still watch out. I may just figure out how to buy you one day… jackass.”

“Aha!” Mujungo cartwheeled in glee. “That’s the spirit, you poopoo shit! Alan the noble!”

Alan turned to his people, forcing Neesha and Flint around with him.

Mujungo jumped on Alan’s shoulders. “Now, my citizens of Strangey Town. Let’s honor the fallen, encourage the injured, and drink to life tonight… to Jaeger’s dramatic defeat!”

“Rahh!”

All weapons went up.

xxx

After a few hours of Alan clinking mugs with allies who answered the call, everyone shared a laugh, bowed for the fallen, and returned to their home realms. Without them, Alan couldn’t muster another second of Mujungo sitting on the throne at the head of an enormous Strangey Town tavern, so he excused himself.

Neesha eyed him at a table across the way, as did Flint.

Fist bumps were all around on his way out. Hunters, Knights, Stalkers, and Wizards all offered their respect through toothy smiles and ale-ridden breath. But behind Alan’s smile was unfinished business with his detained prince.

Two massive wooden doors were opened by headdress-wearing warriors, who bowed to Alan on his way out.

“Night, gentlemen.” Alan waved.

“Goodnight, Sir Alan.”

Ribbits and chirping painted a quiet night. Mujungo managed to rebuild, revitalize, and extinguish the scent of blood as fast as he lifted the clouds back to the sky. As though the trauma he witnessed never happened… which in his head wasn’t so great.

One thing he learned on Earth was that hard times should be dealt with, not swept under the rug. But who was he to judge someone else’s domain?

“Alan!” Neesha came running.

Alan turned with a smirk on his face. “Where’s your dashing protector?”

“Mad at me… ’cause I came to save you and Flint.”

“Save? I remember it differently.”

“Well I will be the one carving history into stones, so… be nice to me.” She winked.

“Uh huh.”

“Ah ha! My friends!” Flint raised his hand, lifting his robes enough to rush down the stairs. “The party’s in here!”

“Go enjoy it, Flint. Have a special ale for me. I think it’s time I say my goodbyes.”

Flint walked up to them and put his hands on his hips. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Neesha gasped. “With this untrustworthy pig? Never.” She slapped the Wizard lightly.

“Well, good. Because I’m coming with.”

“What do you mean?” Alan asked.

“If Mujungo thinks you will become a god, and the frogs foresee you as a Herald, then it is my sworn duty to make sure the darkness remains at bay, especially after some of the abilities I witnessed out of you. Aha!”

Alan pursed his lips. “Would never reject a friend’s guidance.”

“Mm. I’m coming too. Can’t leave you alone with ol’ Wizard brain over there. You’d lose your mind in a day.” Neesha nodded, reassuring herself.

Alan felt another blanket of that warmth he’d experienced in battle. It was having very tangible effects on his Saro these days. He guessed it had something to do with having a realm now and coming closer to something called home.

“This is the way to the prison?” Alan pointed as he hung a left out of the town square.

“Just beyond the tower,” Flint said.

“You’re going to see our famous prince, aren’t you?” Neesha asked.

“I am. But before I do… what did the Answer Stone yield? Your question was about the origins of war, wasn’t it?”

“The reason for it,” Neesha corrected. “And I cannot say, unless I feel the need to have my body implode into a drowned realm. But I can say… I won’t be shying away from your battles any longer.”

“Interesting.” Alan arced an eyebrow. “Well, if you do come with me, I’ll be guessing the whole way.”

She smiled. “I can deal with that, I think. Better than being alone with Grumpy Greg all the time.”

The three of them shared a chuckle. And when Alan reached the prison entrance, he asked the two to wait there.

He waved at the guards, who opened the multi-colored Saro door. “I’ll be escorting one Lucius Kiar off the premises: Mujungo’s orders,” he fibbed, knowing the god wouldn’t mind… considering he’d murdered him.

“Yes, Sir Alan. Right away.”

Alan was escorted to a magically dense prison. Blue and Purple Saro chains blocked the door leading inside, which the guard dispelled by pressing his powered gauntlet against the door. The man then stepped aside to reveal Lucius on his knees, chained by the wrists with variant-colored magical ties.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Lucius laughed low.

Alan just stood there.

“I heard everything,” Lucius said, peering up. “Mujungo’s crimes travel far, don’t they?” He laughed again. “Now all of a sudden I don’t seem so bad for wanting desperately to get out, do I?”

Alan nodded to the wizardly guard for him to dispel the ties. “You’re coming with me.”

Lucius cackled. “Of course. What choice do I have?” He rattled his chains.

“You’re going to help me settle my debts, Lucius. One way or another,” Alan promised.

“And you… are going to get me home.” Lucius clenched his fists. “We have an anti-bond. You must feel it, same as I do.”

“Maybe,” Alan said. “But unlike you, I don’t bow to my vices.”

The guard handed the magical tether to Alan—which he yanked to get Lucius moving.

“Now that the universe is at war, maybe you’ll see that this extends further than your needs,” Alan said on the way down the stairs. “And maybe, together, we can make the universe better for those about to enter it.”