Chapter 9: Base case of the cool downs.

The unlikely trio dash, dived and dodged through the winding streets of the village desperate to reach the flames within the heart of the town. With Melly at the helm, they made quick progress and within a very short amount of time found themselves within ears' distance of the so-called danger.

"What do you mean you don’t know how he died?" asked the lead Zealot mage. He huffed and puffed in a panic.

Melly could spot the leader in an instant—he had that unmistakable air of self-importance, strutting around in his fancy black robe with a full hood, while the others looked plain in their brown. Quick as a flash, she dove behind a smoking shrub, the other two tumbling in after her.

Three versus three. She thought. Where’s the fire?

The billowing smoke made it hard to see the buildings, yet she knew exactly where she was. This was her street. Through the haze of smoke, dozens of figures ambled into view. It was the villagers. They moved at a snail’s pace in silence with blank looks on their faces while bound by iron collars.

“It must be the work of the wands of subjugation,” whispered Clemiticus.

“You’re still not answering me!” the lead Zealot shrieked like a spoilt child.

One of the brown robbed men cowered before him. “Something flew overhead. I don’t know what it was.”

“Blast it,” spat the leader.

Melly looked down at her hand and at the innocent-looking potato. It sat there dull and unmoving. “What the hell is this thing?”

She had attempted in vain to get rid of it on the way here, but every time she dropped the potato, it appeared back in her hand. It was like the legendary tuber was possessed. After several failed attempts to discard the deadly spud, Melly gave up and was forced to hold on to the stupid vegetable.

The Zealot leader surveyed the area around the corpse of their companion and swore. "I can't see anything through this damn smoke!" he shouted. With a well-practised flick of his two-foot wand, he sent a surge of wind through the air to clear the scene.

Finally, Melly saw the surrounding buildings.

She clenched her fists and jaw. Where once her home had been, there was now a gigantic smoking crater. There was never a fire. Only an explosion that levelled her childhood home.

"What the fuck did you do to my house?" Melly shouted, forgetting she was supposed to be hiding and instead charged forward in a blind rage.

The three Zealots flinched at the unexpected intruder then proceeding to point their wands at her. Melly the Furious glared at her foes armed only with a Potato. With all her might, she flexed her arm and hurled the spud.

The potato never left her hand.

The three zealots looked at each other in confusion and then snickered.

Melly looked down at the earth nugget and screamed. It was futile. The useless starch orb was stuck to her skin. She tried to throw it again and again but with no luck.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked as she furiously danced around in circles, desperately trying to throw the magical dirt apple at the Zealots. "Why’s this happening now?"

"Oh, Damn," Clemiticus said, appearing beside her with her diminutive father. "It looks like your potato has an attack cool-down."

"Attack cool-down?" she asked, completely ignoring the now confused and enraged expressions on the faces of the three Zealot mages.

Clemiticus paid no mind to the threat and stepped in front of Melly, leaning in to study the spud with keen interest. This only made the Zealots fume even more. With their anger simmering, they locked eyes on Clemiticus and, as if in perfect sync, the mages united their powers to unleash a surge of magic aimed at obliterating the curious fool. The magic crackled through the air, igniting the surroundings in yellow, red, and blue.

The magic surged right for Clemiticus in a deadly arc only to hit a turbulent gust of wind, causing the magic to sail harmlessly overhead, and into the trunk of a nearby tree.

Boom! The tree exploded in a shower of splinters.

"What on Fanswald?" muttered one of the robed figures.

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Clemiticus ignored the deadly light show and said, "well, you see a cool-down is a cooling-off period where you have to wait before you can use the item again. Yeah, just wait for a bit, and you'll be able to use it again.”

The Lead Zealot cursed under his breath and marched toward them. He seized Clemiticus by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him. His eyes narrowed with disgust as he glared at the distracted adventurer.

With the Lead Zealot so close, Melly noticed he looked uncannily like the first man they had found near the strange idol—old, balding, and with sunken eyes. It was as if he were a carbon copy of the other.

"Dude, do you mind? We’re having a conversation,” said Clemiticus. “That was so rude." Clemiticus shoved the Zealot's arm away and turned back to Melly. "Try looking at the item's info. See if there's a clock or cool down tracker."

"Argh!!" the Lead Zealot screamed. In a fit of rage, he lunged forward and, forgetting his wand was meant for magic, clobbered Clemiticus over the head with it.

"Ow! Fuck! That hurts, man!" Clemiticus fell, clutching his head. "What’s that for?"

The enraged mage turned his attention to Melly, studying her face closely for the first time. Suddenly, his anger evaporated.

"W… What are you doing here?" he stammered. His two companions moved to his side, and they too got a closer look at Melly.

"Is that her?" murmured one.

"What's she doing here?" asked the other. They looked into the sky as if the clouds would pounce on them.

"What’re you on about?" Melly asked totally confused.

The Lead Zealot collected himself. "No, not her. She's much too young. Although there were rumours, she had a daughter. I guess they were true."

"What do you know of my mother?"

A nasty smile spread across his face. "I wonder what it would be like to have this one as a slave? I wonder if it would force her mother to do anything I say?" he said with eyes flashing with greed. He then raised his wand to prepare for a spell.

"Can I use my potato yet?" Melly asked. The Zealot's expression unnerved her.

Clemiticus took a moment from his self-pitying to look up at the Potato's information and said, "five seconds left."

"Great!" she gave the zealots a gentle smile. "I don't know where my mother is. However, I know that you three bastards have cost me my damn house."

She playfully flipped the potato in her hand and counted to five.

The lead zealot gave her a patronising smirk, up and down.

"I wonder what you would look like with a collar on," he said, leering.

His cronies gave appreciative nods.

“Weirdos,” Clemiticus commented.

"Shouldn’t have said that,” said Derrick, as he gave the Zealots a rueful grin and then moved back a step.

The lead zealot scoffed.

"What can this little girl do? I am all-powerful. I have mastered death. I will be your undoing!"

"See, I told you," Clemiticus said. "Lazy writing for these bad guys."

Melly tensed her fingers around the deadly ground bulb. "Shut up!" She drew her arm back and threw it as hard as she could.

The fatal root lump flew through the air, striking the Lead Zealot square in the face. It rebounded to the man on his right then continued to strike the third. Then the soil gem snapped back into Melly's hand with an audible slap.

The lips of the lead zealot trembled. "What?"

All three of the Zealots stood motionless for the briefest of moments before the light in their eyes vanished and all three collapsed to the ground, dead. As the leader dropped to the ground, a large stone fell from his pocket.

"Well, that was easy," said Clemiticus. "I told you they say stupid stuff."

Melly gave him a defeated nod. She couldn’t argue with him.

The adventurer then scrambled to the ground and motioned to pick up the fallen stone.

Melly looked up as the sounds of iron collars falling to the ground all around them. The villagers were free.

Bing!

A blue flash of light flickered above, and a singsong voice rang out.

"Quest complete!”

"The party has received an enormous amount of experience points."

"Clemiticus has reached level eight."

"Melly has reached level five."

"Derrick has reached level four."

"Congrats, guys!" Clemiticus managed an odd smile of triumph as he hauled himself upright. He dragged a jumble of mud out of his pocket and began eating another one of his special healing delicacies. No doubt trying to replenish his health points from the cranial blow he had just received.

"Look here!" Clemiticus waved the stone at them, still chewing his 'food'. "Remember this? It's that ogre's kidney stone. How on earth did this guy get this?"

Melly rolled her eyes and shivered with disgust.

"What? Do you want it? It may be valuable." Clemiticus misinterpreted Melly's expression. "Here, take it," he offered it to her.

The putrid smell of the object wafted too close to her nostrils. "Ew! No!" she said as she slapped the Kidney stone out of his hand.

It fell between them and bounced on the floor. The shell cracked open, and a yellow gas poured out and shot upwards and enveloped the trio.

"Ah!" Melly screamed. The putrid smell overwhelmed her.

"That ain't good, mate!" said Derrick.

"Wow! It's so yellow," Clemiticus said. "Smells rank."

The gas rippled like a wave and flew up and surged into their nostrils. The three coughed and gagged.

Bing!

"Clemiticus has been infected with the Doom curse."

"Derrick has been infected with the Doom curse."

"Melly has been infected with the Doom curse."

Melly threw up her arms. "Oh, great! What now?"

"That ain't good!" said Derrick.

“You think dad?" Melly said, looking down to find an odd shape among the shrapnel of the now broken rock. Scrunched up and faded and covered with mould was a letter.

"Clemiticus there!" she pointed at it, not wanting to touch it.

He scooped it up and read:

Greetings and congratulations! If you are reading this, I regret to inform you that you are going to die. Within one week, you will feel the effects of the Doom curse. On the fourteenth day, you will die. And yes, it will be painful. Very painful. Your eyes will pop, your hair will fall out, your bones will splinter. You will be covered in boils. Heck, your boils will be covered in boils. If you wish not this fate, come to me and I will gladly remove the curse. For a price, of course. Hope to hear from you soon. Hope you are feeling well.

Yours sincerely, Fredreek Von Lousy of Bluehill town.

As if in response, the all too familiar blue light flickered once more, and Fairy then sang. "Your party has been granted the quest, 'Do not die'. To complete this quest, travel to Bluehill town and meet with Fredreek Von Lousy and pay his price."

"We accept the quest," Melly said quickly.

Bing!