The Kingdom of Egola was deserted and ravaged, as if it had been victimized by every natural disaster there is. “Apocalyptic” is the word I would have used to describe it had my vocabulary been better at the time. We passed through the barren fields on the kingdom’s outskirts and then through rows upon rows of demolished houses, inns, taverns, a candle store, and whatever a millinery shop is.
Unlike the rest of the kingdom, the castle at its center was in fine condition, though thick ivy smothered its walls. Egola Castle was surrounded by a moat, but fortunately, the drawbridge was already down.
As we crossed, Mag said this was just the kind of thing she was talking about earlier. “The drawbridge wouldn’t be down if Vulgra could help it.”
“Maybe Vulgra wants us in the castle,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right. That’s definitely it,” Mag said sarcastically. “Vulgra wants us to extract it from your dad so we can destroy it.”
“Mock me all you want. I know Vulgra’s cooking something up. I can smell it.”
The drawbridge led us through a grand doorway into a cavernous foyer with a twenty-foot-high ceiling, cobweb-covered walls, a dozen dilapidated doors on all sides, and a stone floor painted with bloodstains.
“Oh, shit,” Mag said. “All of a sudden, the Knowledge Bracelet’s saying this castle’s packed with enemies, and they’re coming at us from every direction. Not one of these doors leads to a safe route. However...”
There was a long pause.
“What?” I said.
“What?” she said.
“However what?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You said ‘however,’ and then you just stopped talking.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did. Right, Dad?”
“Yeah, you did say ‘however,’” my dad confirmed.
“Oh. Well, I didn’t mean to. Sorry,” Mag said. “No, there’s no ‘however’ about it. We’re fucked. We should leave and come back after we’ve learned how the staff works. At the very least, we should find a safer place to fight some enemies. Level up a little bit, stock up on potions.”
But as she suggested this, the drawbridge snapped closed behind us, blocking our only way out. The absence of windows made this room pitch-black.
We didn’t know what was going to kill us, and we didn’t know exactly when, but we knew we were going to die. Which I guess is true of anybody who has ever lived, now that I think about it. But we knew we were going to die very soon, and soonness makes death scarier, I find.
Mag used Spark to light my staff, and we huddled in the torchlight. We stayed where we were and let the enemies come to us. That way, we could keep our backs to the drawbridge, knowing we couldn’t be attacked from behind.
“How many monsters are we looking at, here?” I asked.
“None yet,” my dad said. “They still haven’t come through the doors.”
“Mag?” I said, refusing to acknowledge my dad’s poorly timed attempt at humor.
“I dunno. A thousand?” Mag said.
My dad coughed up Vulgra’s name. I probed him for more information, but Vulgra stifled him. But I knew what he was trying to say. Vulgra had sent these enemies and slammed the drawbridge shut. As I had suspected, this castle was a trap.
But why would Vulgra kill me now? It hadn’t yet turned me evil and used me for whatever scheme it was hatching. But maybe that was for the best. If I died here in this castle, at least I would avoid the Abyss.
“Hey, Mag?” I said. “I hope we end up in the same afterlife. I’m going to miss you if we don’t.”
“Don’t talk like that, Emerson. We can get through this,” she said. Then, a few seconds later, she added, “But I’ll miss you, too.”
Then I looked at my dad. I hated the thought of him going to the Abyss when we were so close to the third talisman. It wasn’t fair. I told him that even if we died here, I would do whatever I could from my version of the afterlife to rescue him from the Abyss. I said I would make it my “afterlife’s mission.” I thought that was pretty clever.
There was a banging on one of the doors as a group of monsters tried to burst into the foyer. Then another door rattled, while another spattled, and soon, the foyer was vibrating from the cacophony of thumps, bumps, and whops.
Eventually, one of the monsters figured out how to use a doorknob. A cluster of monsters filled the room, the torchlight revealing that they were zombies and scarecrows.
The zombies were disgusting. Their ugly, gray skin was draped over their frames, revealing eroded bones and rotting muscle tissue. They had scraggly hair, no eyes, and ratty clothes. One of them wore a hat. The scarecrows were pathetic, tattered old things. It was like if a country went to war and the president said, “Send everyone who’s eighty or older out first, and let’s see what they can do. Maybe they have one last battle in them.” But they don’t. They just want to have a nap, and wake them up when Wheel of Fortune comes on.
One by one, the other doors opened, and more frail zombies and scarecrows stumbled into the room.
“These guys don’t look so tough,” My dad said. “Plus, zombies and scarecrows hate fire, don’t they? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that in the movies. We might actually have a fighting chance here.”
Mag checked, and the Knowledge Bracelet confirmed my dad’s assumption. Mag’s fire magic was one of these monsters’ many weaknesses.
One of the scarecrows ran and leaped at us. I held the torch out in front of me, and it jumped into the flame. It whimpered and dropped dead to the ground. Then more scarecrows came (they were faster than the zombies), one after another. I would simply touch them with my torch, and they’d perish.
Since I was handily defeating the scarecrows by myself, Mag conserved her MP and did not attack. Maybe we’d need her magic for the zombies, as they had to be tougher than these harmless scarecrows.
But they weren’t. The zombies were every bit as wimpy as their straw comrades. One touch with my torch was enough to kill them.
Something’s not right, I thought. Why would Vulgra launch an attack using the weakest monsters in history? And why make them weak against the only magic type we can wield?
“What the F?” I said. “This can’t be the best Vulgra can do.”
“It probably made these monsters in a panic because it’s afraid of the power you possess,” Mag said.
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“Even if that’s the case, doesn’t this still seem a little too easy? Like, a lot a little too easy? I mean, I’ve killed another five zombies during this conversation with you without even paying attention. They’re walking right into the flame. Watch.”
I wedged my staff into a gap between two of the stone tiles that made up the floor. We stood back and observed as the zombies and scarecrows ignored us and strolled into the flame. “Very suspicious, wouldn’t you say?” I said.
“You almost sound annoyed that we’re not being slaughtered,” Mag said. “Just take the victory.”
“But this doesn’t feel like a victory,” I said. “I’m scared.”
“Here, this’ll cheer you up!” Mag bent forward, facing away from the torch, and let a huge fart rip. It had a blowtorch effect that took out a dozen zombies.
It didn’t cheer me up, but apparently, it was the funniest thing my dad had ever seen. “Wait, wait. I got one,” he said, picking up the torch. He put it between his legs and repeatedly thrust his pelvis, taking out a zombie with each thrust. He was having a great time, but I had to ask him to stop. I didn’t enjoy seeing him do that motion or hearing the sex sounds he was making.
Mag and my dad had the time of their lives killing the zombies and scarecrows that continued flooding the room. Just for fun, Mag busted out some powerbombs, chokeslams, tombstone piledrivers, and other wrestling moves. My dad thought some of them were “pretty snazzy” and got Mag to show him how to do them.
Seeing my two best friends bond was nice, but it wasn’t nice enough to distract me from my suspicions. I didn’t want to kill their vibe, so I went and sat alone in a corner.
I drowned out the scarecrows’ screams, the zombies’ groans, and the sex noises my dad had resumed making despite my previous request as I contemplated the situation. I knew this “failed” attack was part of Vulgra’s grand plan. But how? I thought for a long time but could see no good reason for Vulgra to send these flimsy foes.
Eventually, Mag and my dad erased the last red dot from Mag’s map. They walked over to me, laughing and congratulating each other on some of the more repulsive things they had done with the torch.
“You missed out, Son,” my dad said. “That was the most fun I’ve had since I’ve been in this world.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said carelessly.
“You’re still pretty worried about Vulgra, hey?” he said. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I think Mag was right about Vulgra being in a panic. You’ve spooked it with your staff, that’s all. It’s realized it’s not the most powerful thing in this world, and now it’s unraveling.”
“I disagree. I don’t think Vulgra’s the kind of thing that unravels. If anything, it’s raveling. If that’s a word.”
“It is, but it actually means the same thing. You just agreed with me.”
“What? ‘Ravel’ and ‘unravel’ mean the same thing?”
“Yes.”
“Well that’s really stupid! Why the crap would anyone ever say ‘unravel,’ then? What a waste of time!”
During this conversation, Mag opened her menu and exclaimed, “Holy shit! Guys, we got a fuckton of EXP from that battle!”
I checked my menu. I now had 100,000 EXP. My Skills submenu presented me with the same options as before, but when I focused on them, no pop-up windows appeared to allow me to activate them. Also, even though I hadn’t leveled up since the last time I checked my menu, one new skill had become available. It was called Dream Buster: ??? // Cost: 0 MP // Requires 100,000 EXP to learn. Unlike the others, focusing on Dream Buster did generate a pop-up window. If I wanted to level up, learning Dream Buster was my only option. Naturally, I found this very suspicious.
Mag finished drinking one of the blue potions the zombies and scarecrows had dropped, topping up her newly increased MP limit. “Oh, man, I can’t wait for our next fight!” she said as she tossed a bunch of potions to me. “And with your healing skills, we’ll basically be invincible. Vulgra won’t stand a chance once we get our hands on the Butterfly Rod.”
I explained my menu situation, and Mag asked me what I was waiting for. “Learn Dream Buster and see if you can make your staff go dark again. Maybe that’s what Dream Buster is.”
I said I wasn’t so sure. “You don’t find it suspicious that we were attacked with exactly enough enemies for me to learn this new move that randomly appeared in my menu? And the fact that my other options are disabled makes me extra uncomfortable. It’s like Vulgra is trying to force me to learn Dream Buster.”
“Oh, come on, Emerson!” Mag groaned. “You’re being ridiculous. Why would Vulgra want you to have unstoppable power?”
“I don’t know, but this feels like part of a trap. The new skill is even called the Dream Buster. As in it busts people’s dreams. That’s a bad sign.”
“YOU’RE being a bad sign!” Mag said. “It’s just a name. Like the Mega Buster. The Mega Buster doesn’t bust Mega Man. It helps him. The Dream Buster is probably the same deal. Besides, for all we know, it was the butterflies that made the enemies easy to kill. You’re just assuming it was Vulgra. But if it was, your dad would sense it.”
We both looked to my dad for confirmation. He raised a knowing finger as if he were about to say something important. He opened his mouth, but before speaking, he emitted an eerie, hollow, deathly sound. Then, he said, “Mag is correct. I do not sense that Vulgra’s intention is for you to learn how to do a Dream Buster. Yes, it must have been that butterfly.”
“See?” Mag said.
“No, no, something’s off,” I argued. “His voice sounds different, doesn’t it? It’s more robotic and emptier.”
“I don’t think so. I think you’re just looking for excuses.”
“Yeah, and I found them! I really don’t think I should learn Dream Buster. It feels so risky.”
“But if the Dream Buster is the butterflies’ way of helping us, then it’s just as risky not to learn it. Besides, risks are what make life worth living.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said.
I realize now that there was no basis whatsoever for Mag’s claim that risks are correlated with the value of one’s life. But the way she said it sounded so cool that I assumed it was true.
I cautiously opened my Skills submenu and focused on Dream Buster. The pop-up window asked me to confirm my decision to activate it. I was just about to do so when I noticed my dad’s eyes from behind my menu. They looked sad and desperate. I sensed he was trying to tell me not to learn Dream Buster. Or was I just looking for excuses again?
No, I felt strongly in my gut that I should not learn Dream Buster. And I was pretty sure Archie had said something about gut feelings being one of the ways that butterflies helped humans.
I put my menu away. “I can’t do it.”
“Dammit, Emerson!” my dad shouted, his voice as deep and hollow as when we first met Sir in the forest. “Don’t be such a faggot!”
Mag and I shared a glance. “Okay, you were right,” she admitted. “That’s definitely not your dad’s voice. Wait… Is Vulgra speaking to us directly right now?”
“I think so,” I said. But I didn’t just think so. I knew so. That’s what I should have said.
My dad dropped to his knees and started hyperventilating. Mag and I comforted him, and his breathing soon returned to normal, and he felt like my dad again. But now he seemed very, very sad.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “You fought it off. You’re back.”
“It’s just…” he said in his soft serve voice. “It’s just that I’m your dad. I’m not supposed to be scared or sad in front of you. But I’m so exhausted and in so much pain… I can’t fight it anymore.” He tried to collect himself through a few long, shaky breaths. “I’m scared, boy. I’m scared of what Vulgra’s going to do to me.”
His eyes filled with tears. He tried to stop himself from crying, but his sorrow was unrelenting, and he began to sob. “I don’t want to go to the Abyss!” he cried, and he begged us to save him.
Mag and I cocooned him in a hug. We told him he was doing awesome, and we promised to keep him safe.
My dad took a deep breath and stopped crying. Then he looked at me. “Emerson, you—” but he coughed hard again. He tried to battle through the pain, but Vulgra was too strong.
But I was pretty sure I knew what he was trying to say. “I did the right thing by not learning Dream Buster, right?”
My dad gave a single slow nod, wincing as though his neck might snap.
Mag admitted she had gotten overexcited and that I had made a good call. Then she said we best hurry and find the Hero’s Medallion before Vulgra harmed my dad any further.
We wandered through the castle’s corridors and soon came upon a gorgeous set of ten-foot-high wooden double doors. As we were about to open them, my dad had another one of his trademark coughing fits, this one especially bad. We assumed it was because the Hero’s Medallion was in the room on the other side of these important-looking doors, and Vulgra was trying to keep my dad away from the final talisman.
This got Mag thinking. “As far as I can tell from my map, the next room should be safe. But this castle also looked safe until we came inside. Vulgra obviously knows we’re about to remove it from your dad, and it might make one last move out of desperation to stop us. Also, Archie was very clear that the Hero’s Medallion would be the most difficult to get, so there could be something unexpected waiting for us. We should keep our guard up.”
I said that sounded smart.
My dad threw up more black stuff.