Chapter 27 - Deflection

The Underground Hell Forge Tour/Escape Room

The Real Nyx!

Wow. Fang’s mom hits so hard that she knocked us back to the present!

See? More proof that she’s a knockout. Literally.

By the way, this is Nyx. The real one… maybe. That’s still up in the air, isn’t it? But I do know we’re still in that ruined forge with the surviving tour-guides and the other tourists. You know, the one with the big, flaming portal to hell? Can’t miss it.

It feels like it’s been a really long and possibly unnecessary amount of time since you were last here. So, uh, how have you been enjoying the backstory so far?

I told you a lot happened. And we aren’t even halfway!

Hmm, a lot of you are looking confused, upset, and maybe even a little angry. Like you have questions… which is fair. Reasonable even.

You’re feelings are valid. In fact, I feel like we need to slow things down – like we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. As you can see, I’ve been under a lot of pressure. That’s probably why I’ve been coming across a little, well… unstable?

“That’s what you’re going with?” Lili offered dryly.

Anyway, like I was saying, I owe you an apology.

After that lightless, shit-filled cesspit of pain and suffering – you know, the gate – I thought things would be easier. That I wouldn’t need to deflect with jokes, and silly shenanigans, and elaborate stories. That maybe my life would change – that our lives would change. That our newfound powers and our bromantic relationship and our beautiful murder babies would finally be enough for us to be free. To be happy.

But, well, the universe had a different plan in mind.

Like dumping us in the middle of a swamp.

Or filling Cocytus with giant sea serpents.

Or putting a forest full of screaming, flesh-eating bamboo in our way.

Oh, or the demon monkeys! And the flaming shit – we can’t forget about that.

And then, of course, there were Fang’s secrets – as well as his surprise family.

Which was supposed to be our thing – the dead parents, I mean. It’s what had brought us closer together as bromantic partners. Now what did we have? Murder and loot and three of the most precious death rodents in the Five Rivers? It just didn’t seem like enough. And if it was, then why would Fang feel the need to keep all of these secrets?

Things were so much easier when I thought they were all dead—

Not that I’m rooting for my in-laws to die, of course!

Or, well… maybe not all of them. Just most of them. Seriously, if they were dead, then he wouldn’t need to keep secrets, right? And now that we knew spirits were immortal, was there really any harm? The ethics was fuzzy at best. So, problem solved!

Ahh, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?

Falling back into old habits.

See what I mean? It’s just easier that way.

Easier to pretend we’re on a family road trip than to focus on the brutal reality of dragging the Death Wagon hundreds of miles through the swamp, my feet broken and bleeding Or that I had “befriended” a two-ton ball of death spikes and poison – one that had nearly killed me many, many, many times. Poison overdose, of course. Or that I had invented a fun and incredibly useful new building material. You know, instead of focusing on the many times I was nearly buried under a flaming mountain of shit.

Or that that I was attending a surprise party – you know, instead of being publicly embarrassed in front of Fang’s entire and still very much alive family.

I know this isn’t a perfect solution. Or even a good one. But it helps.

Even if it makes things difficult for all of you.

In fact, I feel so bad about it, that I have to make it up to you somehow…

Wait, how about this? What if we just skip the rest of the boring and completely irrelevant backstory and go straight to the good stuff – to the gate?

That’s my gift to you. For always being there – staring and judging and laughing and sometimes crying. For always having my back despite my dubious grasp on my own sanity and my penchant for complicated, nuanced, character-driven storytelling.

So, what do you say, buddies? Or, err, pals?

…

Hmm, I don’t like how you’re hesitating. Don’t you trust me?

“But what about Elder Gracen?” Cole spoke up.

My eyes snapped to his face, the elf’s skin slick with sweat and his clothing plastered to his wiry frame. To be fair, it was rather warm down here in the forge. Probably because of the magma that was slowly seeping out of the flaming, hell rift behind me.

“What the fuck, Cole?” I hissed.

Also, the talking out loud thing was really getting out of hand.

“Uh… sorry?” Cole muttered, raising his hands. “I just didn’t know if you were talking to me or someone else or maybe even nothing at all. This is just really confusing.”

“He has a fair point,” Lili added. “Besides, the rest of this isn’t going to make sense if you don’t tell them what we learned about the Fin-Fans and your father—”

“Elder Gracen is not my father!” I interjected. “Do you remember his last words?”

“No, of course not. How would I know that?” Cole asked cautiously.

“Not you. I’m talking to Lili,” I snapped, pointing at my hand.

“You, uh, you named your right hand Lili?” he muttered.

“Yes, and the left one is Maribel.”

Cole apparently needed a second to process, blinking owlishly.

Meanwhile, Fang was just sitting by the anvil laughing. Laughing.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

You know that feeling you’re experiencing right now – a mixture of frustration, confusion, suspicion, and a faint note of betrayal? All of your many, many questions piling up and buzzing in the back of your brain just waiting to be addressed by this asshole who refuses to give you a straight answer?

Like I might be lying you? Trying to trick you somehow? And why? Possibly to avoid crippling emotional issues that are best buried under a figurative mountain of bullshit?

Well, now you know exactly how I feel.

Because Fang certainly wasn’t talking – and he definitely wasn’t explaining anything. Even bribing him with nimbus gems hadn’t worked. He still refused to answer my questions.

What was that? Didn’t we have a bet?

Alright, fine, maybe I was just calling it a bet.

I mean, I told him: “If he couldn’t say anything nice, he shouldn’t say anything at all.”

And he, well… he just stopped talking!

Which wasn’t great. But he didn’t have to look so damned happy about it!

I don’t even know how to process that. At first it was kind of funny and then really insulting and now he just seems to be using it as permission to keep me in the dark.

Ahh, anyway, I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Distracting myself.

Probably because it’s easier than facing Cole’s completely irrelevant questions—

“Aren’t you just doing the same thing as Fang, though?” Lili offered.

Uh, no. This is totally different. I deflect to protect my mental health.

Fang does it because he’s a cold-blooded asshole.

See? His smile just got even wider!

“Maybe if you stopped talking out loud—“” Lili began tiredly.

“Did you find Elder Gracen’s last words to me yet?” I interjected.

“Almost. Your monologue is distracting,” she muttered as she reviewed my memories, a tickling sensation creeping along my scalp. “I’m sure it can’t be that—oh. Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, he called me a stubborn shithead. Right before he blew himself up in a crimson shower of not-my-daddy. Can you believe that?”

“Well…” Lili and Cole murmured in unison.

I also didn’t love how the other tour-guides and tourists had stopped working and were listening intently, each of them drenched in sweat and holding a makeshift pickaxe – one of my own proprietary design. A glare was enough to get them back to work. Although, they were still moving slowly and side-eyeing me and clearing eavesdropping.

Cole cleared his throat, watching me warily. “Do you think maybe your issues with your father—"

“Temporary legal guardian,” I corrected.

“Right. Sure,” Cole murmured, shaking his head. “Anyway, do you think they might have something to do with this?” He waved at the room. Specifically, the arch made of poo-crete that I’d built near the portal – the one that stretched over the anvil.

Okay, I know what this looks like, but this isn’t just another insane project.

Seriously, I’m telling the truth this time!

We were just doing some basic gate maintenance. I mean, I mentioned the magma, right? Well, it was a safety issue, obviously. So, we built a little trench to contain it. Or, correction, I had the surviving tour-guides and tourists help build the trench – the same one that now wound through the room in a dizzyingly complicated pattern. They were surprisingly enthusiastic about it. Not burning alive was apparently good motivation.

“And the arch and metal garlands?” Lili demanded.

Uh, well, those were for me. Honestly, they helped elevate the space and meshed perfectly with the steampunk aesthetic this place had going on—

“And the pews?” That was Lili. Yet again.

Clearly, we would need seating… you know, to rest?

“Or maybe this is just more deflection? Another project like the highway or the bed and breakfast? Maybe you’re running away from your problems again?” Cole asked gently.

Everyone else got super quiet – just watching me.

Ahh, and so are you. And you look really, um… suspicious.

“We’ve already been over this. I already owned up to—” I began.

“So, Fang’s secret family doesn’t bother you?” Cole pressed. “You know, the fact that they aren’t dead? That he lied to you? Many, many times. Including the fact that he knew Elder Gracen was actually—"

“No, I’m totally fine,” I replied quickly, crossing my arms.

“You sound a little defensive,” Lili observed.

“Are you sure? Maybe talking about it would help… and involve fewer casualties?” Cole tried again. To be fair, only a few of the tourists had died building the arch.

“It might even be therapeutic,” Cole offered.

I’ll admit, he almost got me with the promise of [Therapy]. The key word there was almost. But I also caught how he looked to Fang – how that scaly, duplicitous trash goblin gave him a nod. Like this was some kind of conspiracy. Like they’d planned this whole exchange just to get me to admit my super awesome new plan—

Wait… shit. That sounded really suspicious, didn’t it?

And, of course, now you’re all glaring at me!

Look, I was just making that offer to skip the completely unnecessary parts of the backstory to be nice, okay? I’m not trying to pull anything over on you. I wouldn’t do that, would I? Avoid glaring and uncomfortable emotional problems that I still haven’t fully processed with crazy antics and high-octane family fun?

“Uh, yeah. That sounds exactly like you,” Lili observed. “In fact, you just admitted that’s what you’ve been doing for ages now—"

And silenced. Just needed to shield my core for a second.

Anyway, I was just trying to make amends. Just trying to give you an opportunity to skip past silly side content and focus on the big picture. The gate. Carnage. General mayhem. Probably sweet, sweet loot!

Oh, like what about those skill gems I ate? Remember that? And you know there’s a Guidepost somewhere in Apati, right? We could find out what the gems did to me so fast.

There’s even a measurement test coming up where Fang and I join the tour group. Yeah, that’s right! They measure my power. The public finally gets to see the majesty that is Nyx! I break the device, the whole crowd stares in awe… then they cheer. It’s amazing.

A hallmark of any good power fantasy. You could have that right now.

We could just skip straight to it. What do you say?

Huh, shit. Well, you can’t really say anything, can you?

Alright, new plan! Straw poll. Everyone who wants to hear the incredibly boring side stuff about Elder Gracen and the Fin-Fans and Fang’s family raise your hands.

One… two… three… thousand. Damn it!

All of you? Every single freaking one?

“Cole, why the hell is your hand up?” I snapped.

“I, uh… well, I want to hear this part too,” he said with a shrug.

“You were there Cole,” I ground out.

“Sure, but some of this may be relevant to my, uh, well… my condition,” the elf whispered, cupping his mouth with one hand. “I mean, I didn’t realize that was your surprise party at the Fin-Fan factory. Although, I suppose I should have noticed sooner what with the bamboo and the screaming and general mayhem. But that’s actually where I… you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, glancing at the other tourists in embarrassment.

I winced. Ahh, yes. His STD.

Again, that’s his spiritually transmitted disease. From sex stuff. At my surprise party. See? This is why you’re supposed to use protection. I recommend a durable battle onesie with limited and excruciatingly painful access to your genitals.

“So, more like a chastity onesie?” Lili asked, the skin on my forehead tickling. It seemed I’d gotten distracted once again, my corrupted houseguest slipping her bonds.

Fang also really loved that one – hissing and coughing.

Which earned him a glare, but his taunting amber eyes just stared back, filled with an expression that I really didn’t like; one that should never be on his face. That was triumph.

Because we all know who just backed me into a corner. I mean, do you think that Cole managed to pull this off on his own? Cole? Really?

“Wow, that’s actually really hurtful—” the elf began.

See? He still has feelings.

No. We all know who the true mastermind is here. The scaly, mute spider pulling strings behind the scenes. The one that orchestrated this entire exchange just to—

Well, that isn’t entirely clear, is it?

Wait, no, I’ve got it! Fang was doing what he’d been doing for weeks now. Stalling. Burning time. Every precious second I spent focusing on my crippling trust and daddy issues was time I wasn’t able to devote to figuring out a way to pull the answers to my many, many questions from his impenetrable mind palace.

Well, the joke was on him! I could still streamline the story. Cut out all of the unnecessary details and tangents and side characters that no one cares about. Hell, I could probably finish this in just a few—

“Plus, I’m also curious what happened to Horus,” Cole murmured, shaking his head.

“Right? Did he die or what?” That was another tourist.

“He couldn’t have, right?” A tour-guide piped up. “I mean, PK is Nyx’s friend. Why would he try to harm Horus, much less kill him?”

“Unless he saw him as competition or something,” another added. “Didn’t you hear the part about Demi and their marriage? That was what the onesie was for.”

“But… but if Horus is dead, how will he write the sequel to LaWD?”

That last one was Lili. Traitor.

Although, the crowd really loved her point, the words scrawling up my arm and across my forehead, the skin itching uncontrollably.

What was happening right now? Why was everyone getting along so well? Why were they all so invested in Horus? Maybe near death experiences had that effect? Either way, they looked excited, setting down their tools and picking out seats among the many, many pews that filled the room as they watched me expectantly.

Like they wanted to hear my insane ramblings.

Which, I’ll admit… felt pretty good.

I let out a sigh. It seems I’ve been outvoted. And, I mean, I can’t let my audience down – even if this whole exchange may have been engineered by a grinning, scaly sociopath to avoid addressing our own relationship issues.

Which is just perfect. Because I wanted to tell this story anyway.

Yeah, it’s going to be great.

Not emotionally scarring at all…