Karfice sat on the simple wooden chair, idling away the hours much the same way he always did–spacing out. Around him, the rest of the group sat gathered, each one finding some way to preoccupy themselves. Wimbleton had told each of them to wait for his return, leaving them in this dingy, cold, underground bunker for what felt like eons. It wasn’t like any of them really wanted to be on the surface, though, not after the chaos of last night.
Mar sat at his side, folding and organizing her belongings. When they’d arrived, she was quick to introduce herself, ever the extroverted type. But the moment had passed, and even she couldn’t keep conversation flowing forever, especially not with so much stress hanging in the air. Kiva was pacing around manically in front of the locked steel door, switching between biting her lip and her thumbs, drawing blood, noticing, healing herself, and then repeating it again. Leo sat on a chair opposite of Karfice, twiddling his thumbs and kicking his legs. Every now and then he pulled out some paper to jot down on or read, but for the most part he’d sat silently, without complaint, the whole while. Garrote was laying on the floor, absentmindedly spinning a handful of common household objects over his head. And Millie, well, she was standing next to Leo, gawking at Karfice without the slightest hint of shame.
At Mar’s request, Karfice had left his mask off, allowing the world to see him for what he truly was for the first time in a while. Everyone else was shocked, but got over it fairly quickly. Millie, however, was not quite the same story. Even as many hours as it’d been, she simply couldn’t peel her eyes away from Karfice’s malformed, disfigured features.
Leo glanced up, “Millie, don’t stare. It’s rude.”
Millie swiveled to look at Leo, face contorting with disbelief, “Why does he look like that?”
“And that’s even ruder, although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious,” Garrote said, not bothering to look away from his idle casting.
“...Karfice?” Mar said, shaking his shoulder.
“Hm?” Karfice said.
“Are you paying any attention at all?”
“...perhaps. What I’d miss?”
“Millie was just asking why you’re so ugly,” Garrote mused, drawing a laugh from Leo and stern admonishment from Kiva.
“Fire, mostly,” Karfice answered, considering carefully the question.
His whole body was a wretched mix of burns and scars, but there was no greater testament to this than his face. What skin he had left was sloughed over in weird locations, the melted flesh reforming everywhere it didn’t belong And that’s even disregarding the mangled tidbits of flesh and bone sticking out at odd angles. His left eye had been completely covered by a mound of blistered skin, blocking the destroyed socket from the outside world. Had it not been for the copious amounts of surgery he’d done on himself, mostly cutting into his face with a dagger and trying to heal it back into a workable shape, he likely wouldn’t even be able to move his head due to all the misplaced muscle and skin. Even being this presentable was miraculous, albeit still horrendous to gaze upon.
“I’m so sorry,” Kiva said.
“Don’t be. It’s the least I deserve,” Karfice replied.
“Okaaaaay, how’s about a new topic, huh? Did any of you see what actually happened out there?” Mar butted in, pushing Karfice’s head down.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
At once, Garrote’s face soured, and Leo looked away, abashed.
“No, I didn’t see a damn thing. I was down here the whole time, but I could tell you exactly what happened. That man, the one who conjured the storm, is my brother, older by a couple millenia,” Garrote spat out, dropping his toys and sitting upright to glare at them.
“Brother?” Kiva asked.
“Great great great great uncle, technically, but you get the idea. I don’t know his name, but I do know his card–the tower. It’s a card that symbolizes destruction, chaos, disorder, and the most perfect summary of what he is, ruin. He brings death and destruction everywhere he goes. I’ve always wanted to kill the bastard myself…but Wimbleton wouldn’t let me.”
“Because you would’ve gotten yourself killed,” Leo said.
“Then I would’ve died trying. Better than waiting here while he destroys everything in his path. I’d half a mind-”
The door slammed open, and in waltzed Wimbleton and Trenton, who looked disgruntled and emboldened respectively. Before Garrote could even quiet his ever liberated tongue, Kiva threw herself at Trenton, spinning him around several times and weeping directly into his shoulder, letting loose strings of what could only be presumed as letters randomly strung together in no particular order.
“Good, no deserters. C’mon. We’re leaving,” Wimbleton said flatley, turning around and marching up the crude staircase to the surface.
One by one, they filed out of the room, Garrote, Millie, Mar, Kiva (somewhat begrudgingly at Trenton’s behest), and lastly Karfice, who stopped a little ways up the stairs to watch Leo and Trenton at the bottom. They were just standing there, not saying anything, looking at each other with expressions Karfice could no longer see. But he could imagine it. He could imagine it veeeeeerrrrry well. In fact, if his intuition was right, then Leo’s face in this moment wouldn’t simply be familiar, it’d be identical to one he’d seen before when he stood where Trenton stood.
“Karfie, you coming?” Mar called out from further up.
“Yeah, just taking a second to stretch,” Karfice replied, quickly jaunting up the rest of the mile or so long staircase.
“Wow,” Mar exclaimed as she climbed out of the hole Wimbleton had made for them.
The city was nothing but ruins, remnants of remnants barely even recognizable. What buildings they’d had but hours prior were gone, replaced with shifting earthen plates, spires which reached for the stars, and holes of gargantuan stature. Karfice had seen a bit of the battle between Sodrue and Tower before being shunted into the bunker, but this was something else entirely. This couldn’t have been their work, not based on the battle he saw, the abilities they cast. Another battle had taken place here, one several magnitudes beyond what he’d witnessed. No wonder Wimbleton looked so furious. Karfice couldn’t even begin to imagine the day he’d had.
“Hey! Got a moment!”
Arthur stood atop a smaller stone tower, observing the cleanup and rescue operations taking place all around them. Soldiers dug through the rubble with everything they had, flinging tons of stone aside like it were no more than paper weights, salvaging what valuables they could and unburying anyone not lucky enough to have evacuated when they had the chance. Arthur leapt from the top of the pillar, jaunting up to them with a grim, but determined steel in his eyes.
“A few,” Wimbleton sighed, loosening his shoulders and relaxing his grimace. “Thanks for protecting the bunker. I had my hands more than a little full.”
“Don’t mention it. If it weren’t for your help, I wouldn’t have a bunker to protect,” Arthur paused for a moment, eyes dropping to the ground, “...we lost a lot last night. The city’s unsalvageable, and most everyone’s dead, but I’m not giving up yet. A good chunk of people live yet, and they need guidance if they’re to start their lives anew.”
“Where do you plan to go?” Leo asked.
“Lumiculus. I never thought I’d say the words, but it’s the only chance we have. We are still apart of the Watcher’s kingdom, afterall. The chances we’re turned away at the gate are low. The problem is actually getting us there in one piece. Shepherding a handful of people that far is difficult enough, let alone some thousands of them.”
“Will you manage?” Kiva asked.
Arthur grinned, “Of course, no other choice. Bolovin, Wriggely, and I are organizing ourselves to leave come a day's time. What militia we’ve got left are prepared to sacrifice their lives if it means the safety of our people. Whatever it takes. But don’t worry about us. We’re capable, if a little desperate. You’ve got your struggles to worry about. Just know my heart is with you, wherever you are. Goodluck. If everything works out, I’ll be in touch, one way or another. But until then, farewell.”