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Extinction World
Chapter 15: The One In Which Stew Is Served

Chapter 15: The One In Which Stew Is Served

It was a short hike, made shorter by his enhanced speed, and he made the clearing by the beach in ten minutes without even breaking a sweat.

He took a moment to look out over the blue water on the other side of the camp. It reminded him of Florida beaches, not the ones in Oregon. Light colored sands, gentle waves, and, in the distance, beyond the thunderclouds above him, clear skies. He smirked. All in all, not a terrible place to fight for your life.

A plan had formulated in his head while he ran, the first step of which was to find Yillie. While he had no hard evidence he could trust the man, he didn’t seem like the kind to stab someone in the back, either.

He didn’t want to let the others know he was back at the camp yet, because that was going to lead to questions he wasn’t ready to answer, so he was going to have to make every effort to get to Yillie quietly.

He easily spotted two of the men. The lightning mage was crouched near the fire, tending the wood and rotating skewers of meat slowly while he absentmindedly picked up and let sand slide through his other hand. The other man, the big man with the axe, worked over a stew pot, slowly stirring a large wooden spoon through its contents. It wasn’t a kitchen, but Bel could respect the work they were doing.

He moved around the camp perimeter slowly, keeping out of line of sight in the trees. It wasn’t until he was nearing the back that he saw the remaining two dots. Yillie was in his tent, but so was the other man. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him, since the man had been injured and Yillie tasked to help him, but it wasn’t ideal.

He snuck in closer, working slowly through the underbrush until he was a few feet behind the tent. Both of the men outside were preoccupied by the fire and cooking that they hadn’t seen him move through the sparse tree line outside of the camp.

He could better make out the blobs of heat in the tent now. One of the two, likely Julo, was laying down, and Bel could hear heavy, restful breathing. He guessed the big man was asleep. He looked at his phone. The map showed the two dots in front of him, and then the two other dots further back into the camp, near where the cooking fire was going. He could see their blobs of heat, too, but having it visualized on the map was unbelievably helpful. No surprises.

Bel was confident that whoever was awake in the tent was facing away from him, so he risked lifting the flap a little to peek in. His suspicions had been spot on. Yillie sat with his back towards Bel reading the same book from earlier, and Julo lay on his side, facing the fabric wall of the tent. He raised the fabric up a little more and crawled underneath.

Inside, a lantern had been lit to brighten it up for reading, with the midday sun now hidden behind the clouds. Bel took one step forward into the tent, and Yillie coughed.

“You’ve returned.” The old man didn’t even turn around to Bel.

He took a moment, debating on if he should try to run, but he needed an ally, and Yillie was his best chance. “Yeah. I’m back. Is Julo out cold?”

“Cold enough. He won’t bother us.” Yillie closed the book and set it on the box beside him before standing and turning around. As his gaze struck Bel, his weathered face cracked a warm smile. “And you’ve brought your pet.”

Bel chuckled. “Yillie, Mephisto. Mephisto, Yillie.”

Yillie gave a small bow and Mephisto flitted his tongue.

“Yillie, something’s come up.”

“You’ve killed Gracious and Porvo. And Nim is dead, too.”

Bel nodded gravely and mentally acknowledged that the man’s mind was quicker than he thought. “Yeah, I killed them.”

“It isn’t unexpected, but it is surprising. I suppose I should have given you more credit after you killed the Ursod last night.”

Bel raised an eyebrow. “Ursod, huh? I didn’t know its name.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me, why did you kill them?”

Bel felt a lump growing in his throat. “Nim called the King’s men on me. They wiped out a village south of here. Gracious and Porvo wanted me to kill Nim, so they’d have something to hold over me. I killed them first. Afterwards, I killed Nim because of the collateral damage that had been done to the village when he called the King for me.”

Yillie nodded. “So, you killed for vengeance?”

Bel shook his head. This was something he was sure of. He’d rolled it around in his head enough already that he was confident it wasn’t that. “No. I killed them because they were vile men. If I’d let them go—any of them—they’d just do it again.”

Yillie nodded again. “That is logic that fails past the first permutation. You do not know that they would have. Through debate and discourse, perhaps you could have changed them.”

Bel wore the frustration plain on his face. “Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps! Perhaps I’ll shit out a unicorn and fly to the King on its back. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I’m in a magic fucking world. The only thing I can rely on is myself and my judgement, and my judgement told me that three men needed to die. I don’t like it. I hope I never do. But as long as I’m alive and I have the power to do something about it, like it or not, I’ll fucking do it.”

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There was a long moment of silence and Yillie took in a deep breath before smiling. “A king is born.”

Bel shook his head. “Fuck that. I don’t want to be king if this is the shit I’m gonna deal with. But that fucker’s got some answering to do for all of this shit, so he’s sitting at the top of my shit list.”

Yillie was still smiling. “You know, I am still owned by the king.”

“Good news, Yillie. I’m the king. Whoever is sitting on that throne is a liar and a cunt. So, if you are owned by the king—the true king—you aren’t owned by anyone. You are a free man.” Bel struck out his hand. “As a free man, I’ll ask for your hand in aid, but you are also free to turn away.”

Yillie took his hand. “I’m in, your highness.”

A groaning voice came from the cot. “I’m in, too. Sounds like a good time.”

Bel spun around and brandished his dagger at the man who, until now, had been asleep on the cot. Mephisto hissed.

Julo held up his hands in surrender. “Nice dirk. Aether forged. Horal’s work?”

Bel looked the man up and down. He was built like a house and the cot sagged beneath him like he weighed as much as one, but it was all muscle. The last time Bel had seen him, he was dressed in hard leather armor with iron rivets and heaving a hammer towards him. Even without all of that on him, he dwarfed Bel.

“Yeah. Horal. In Tothers.” Bel said without breaking eye contact.

Julo nodded. “He’s a good man, and a better smith. It’ll serve you well.”

Bel looked over at Yillie. “I thought you said he was out cold.”

“And you’re an idiot for believing me. Furthermore, you aren’t nearly as quiet as you think you are.”

Bel nodded. “I’m learning that. Thankfully, I’ve got Meph.” He ran a hand across the snake’s back.

Yillie looked at Julo and then back to Bel. “I’ll vouch for Julo. He’s harmless.”

Bel doubted that.

“What he means is I’m not a monster like Gracious and Porvo. They were something else. If I’d have known before I came out, I wouldn’t have signed up.”

“But what about the other two out there? Can they be trusted?”

Both of the other men shrugged, but Julo answered. “Theori, the one in all the armor, he’s alright, I think. Wild, and a bit eccentric, but alright. The other one, though, they call him Seven, cause that’s all the fingers he’s got. He’s batshit crazy. Hell of a mage, but out of his goddamned mind. Acts like a child.”

“He done anything bad?” Belmont asked.

“Depends on your definition. When we go hunting, he likes to burn the animals alive. Says it makes the meat tender. When he does it, he’s got a look in his eyes. Hell of a mage, like I said, but fucking scary.”

Bel took in a long breath. “Fuck. Alright. I don’t want him anywhere near us, then. You both stay in here. I’m gonna go out and talk to them. If shit goes sideways, you can always say you had nothing to do with it.”

Julo nodded.

Yillie spoke up in protest. “I’ll go with you, Michael.”

Bel held up a hand. “No, I appreciate it, but I can handle it. And don’t call me Michael. My friends call me Bel.”

Yillie acquiesced. “Alright, Bel.”

Bel started walking to the front of the tent, but stopped. He bent down and let Meph slide from his arm. “Stay here with them. The ones outside don’t know about you. Might as well keep a secret or two when we can.”

Mephisto slid down and then back over to the other two men as though he understood Belmont perfectly.

Yillie spoke as Bel was leaving. “You’ve changed. For the better.”

Bel turned before walking out. “Yeah. I’m not sure about the ‘better’ part yet, but yeah, I’ve changed.” He lifted the front flap and stepped back onto the cloudy beach.

The two men sat at the cooking fire facing away from him, but within three steps, both of them had turned.

Theori barely reacted. His confidence was overpowering, and the giant man simply stood, leaning on his axe like a walking stick, constructed like an iron bowling ball in all of his armor. Bel wondered if he ever took it off, and then remembered how much of a hassle the dead man’s armor had been.

Seven immediately assumed a threatening pose. His dark robes slid backwards across the sand as he stepped back and raised his hands. Bel recognized the posture. It was the same as the night before when Bel had been sliding helplessly into the camp chased by the Ursod. He looked at the man's hands, and sure enough, he was missing the thumb, ring finger and pinky from his right hand, making it look like he was perpetually giving a peace sign.

Bel held up his hands, though one still held the dirk, since he didn’t have a sheath for it. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Theori was silent and immobile.

Seven yelled across the fire. “Where is Gracious?”

Bel had one play, and he hoped he made the right one. “I killed him. Porvo and Nim, too.” He paused for effect. “They tried to kill me and failed.”

“Liar!” Seven shot back.

Bel gave him an incredulous look. “No, you’re right. They’re on their way and totally cool with a stranger walking around the camp telling everyone he killed them.”

“Usurper! You wear the King’s colors, but you aren’t one of his soldiers!”

Bel looked down at his shirt. “This old thing?”

Looking back up, he saw the lightning crackle on the mage’s fingers. He lunged right and rolled across the sand as an arc of electricity raced across the camp. The hair on his arm stood up as it blew by him and collided with a mound of sand, turning it into glass.

From a crouch, Bel looked back to Seven and prepared to dodge again, but saw that Theori had stepped between himself and the mage, holding his axe like a club over his heavily armored shoulder, with all the poise of a brick wall. Bel wasn’t sure if magical electricity had the same reaction to metal as the regular stuff, but Theori didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Leave.” One word boomed like the thunder that threatened overhead. Theori raised the axe and held it out parallel over the sand. Bel remembered the giant in the prison yard who’d held his yoke the same way.

Seven looked back towards Bel with pure unbridled hate, but that’s all he could do. “I know the King’s men are here! I’ll tell them what you’ve done!”

Theori stretched his arm forward, extending his axe. It hung in the air with all the power of the thunder that Seven couldn’t produce. He repeated himself, “Leave.”

What electricity the mage may have been hanging on to evaporated. He backed up several steps and balled his fists, but didn’t make a move. Instead, he turned and skulked off across the sands, through the south of the camp, and away. Bel knew that he’d be true to his word and head straight towards the King’s men, but he didn’t care. Hopefully, he might tell them some tall tales about the man who killed Gracious Lust.

Theori turned around and rested the axe back on his shoulder. “Gracious was an asshole.”

Bel nodded. “Sure was.” He stepped up towards the man. “I won’t hold you to it, but I’d like to talk to you, Julo, and Yillie about what happens next, if you are willing to listen.”

Theori took a moment, but nodded. “I’ll listen.”

Julo and Yillie stepped out of the tent. Meph was curled over Yillie’s shoulders, and the man ran a hand over Meph’s scales. They joined Bel and Theori by the cooking fire, and all of them took a seat. Theori spooned up some of the stew from the pot into bowls and passed it around.

Bel smiled and accepted it graciously. “Thank you, chef.”

Theori nodded back.

Bel took a few bites and let the warm food work through his body. He didn’t care that he was sitting on a cloudy beach while the wind chilled his skin to the bone. This stew was everything he needed. After a few more bites, he looked at everyone. “Ok, we probably have little time, so I’m gonna have to go through this quick.”