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Chapter 23 - Play the Fool

“Unbelievable!” Lord Trayalo Jassin shouted for what must have been the twentieth time on our carriage ride together. Internally, I winced at how close to the mark his word choice was.

Of course I couldn’t tell him the truth of what I was or where I was from, so I was winging it and doing it badly, less so when I got the guy talking about something other than me.

Lord Jassin seemed to get the most animated when I mentioned my “master” who taught me the magical arts and how little time she actually spent instructing me. The man had a real problem with practitioners that didn’t view the master/student relationship as a solemn duty and privilege as it should be. I’d left out the fact that she was a glitchy hologram lady, but at the same time, I kind of enjoyed hearing someone else that was pissed at Nali for leaving me high and dry in those early days.

“Unbelievable! Just typical of wild practitioners! She awakened your dominion and just… left? My boy, that is not just cruel but highly dangerous. The fact that you are still alive and sane is a testament to your fortune or fortitude, impossible to tell which.”

“Ah. Uh. Yeah. I guess so. Honestly, I’ve had quite a time of it so far,” I admitted, looking down at my hands as I flexed my fingers, remembering the things I’d done to get here. What else would I have to do to get home?

The sleeves of my borrowed shirt were a little long, same with the pant legs, but the tall guardswoman that loaned them to me said I could get them taken in once we got to Eclipse. She was the only one that had brought an extra set of civilian clothes among the group, to the rest of the guards’ shame.

“Oh my gods, men are disgusting!” She’d shouted at them, her mouth twisted up in a horrified sneer. She looked like she wanted to turn her crossbow on every one of them. “Do you just stew in your own funk for the entire trip? What if you have to attend a party? What if the tailors can’t fit you? You know what? That explains a lot about a lot. I’m taking point, Sir, and I’m requesting a transfer as soon as we find a guild that’ll take me.”

“Granted, lieutenant,” Garret laughed. “But I think you’ll find your problem lies not with my unit but with men in general. Without a civilizing influence, we’d all live like Wildlings.”

I did my best to meet Lord Jassin’s eyes as I spoke. “Anyway. After she’d… uh… awakened me, I had a bad run in with goblins and then found myself lost in the caves where I met the mockvine. It tried to hypnotize me with some kind of illusion, but I saw it for what it was eventually.”

Deception is now level 2.

I hated this. I wasn’t a big liar, so telling half truths like this taxed my mind and my conscience. Jassin was sharp too, and he was quick to note inconsistencies in my story.

“Unbelievable. You, with a fledgeling dominion, wander into the heart of a mockvine lair, and you just see through its suggestions. I don’t see how that is possible. Your aura is extraordinarily strong for someone of your age, but if the creature was as old as you’re saying, you should be dead. Even the smaller specimens can lull a full grown adult into somnambulation. In fact, I taught a graduate student that raised a mockvine from a seedling. Used it as a sleep aid. Then, once the creature grew powerful enough, it charmed him right out of his second floor window. He was lucky to get away with just a broken leg. Are you sure this one wasn’t diseased or perhaps wounded from a previous bout with its food?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how I would be able to tell. What would that look like?” I asked. The one thing Jassin seemed to enjoy was hearing the sound of his own voice, preferably when he was talking about something he knew a lot about.

“Oh. There are several indicators of disease that one can observe in carnivorous plants such as a curling of the leaves or browning on the inside of the lobes. Distortions in its foliage patterns. An over reliance on obfuscation. Did you notice any of that while you were under attack?”

“Uh. Lobes? Where would-”

“The uninitiated would most likely call it the ‘mouth’ of the creature, though it is evolutionarily as far from a proper mouth as you can get.”

“No browning that I noticed.”

“Are you sure? Did you get a close look?” Jassin asked.

I thought back to the claustrophobic insides of the bulb, the stinging of the acid, the smooth, rubbery texture, my shaking hands and panicked breaths as I fought to breathe. “Yeah,” I confirmed. “I got pretty close. Red and yellow all the way.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, lying back on his cushioned seat again. He stared through me then, seemingly lost in thought. He rubbed the back of his head where his antlers protruded from his dark hair and seemed to be muttering something to himself as he contemplated.

I didn’t volunteer anything else. I had no context for anything on Ralqir. I was as foreign to these people as you could get, and the more I opened my mouth, the more chances I would have to stick my foot in it. Instead, I tried to ask my own questions and keep the conversation from focusing on me.

So far, I’d been able to gather precious little information. We were on the road to Eclipse, a city of great importance to the world, where Jassin would be taking up a position as a professor at their university. Jassin’s escort was double what it would normally be thanks to increased aggression from multiple displaced goblin tribes and migratory beasts. So far, though, nothing had tried to waylay them thanks to how well armed and numerous the party was.

Jassin himself was a noble, a father of twelve, and an accomplished scholar in multiple fields of magic and magical theory, and, like all noble practitioners, he’d taken an oath to Queen and country to use his acquired knowledge and power to protect the kingdom from all threats. That’s why when he’d seen the dying greenery, he’d been concerned the forest was about to see a plague. If the trees died and stopped blocking the deadly sun, traffic to and from Eclipse could halt entirely. Trade would stop and people would go hungry.

After taking some samples from the site, Jassin followed my trail. “Lucky for me and for you that you didn’t travel on the road, my boy. Otherwise I would never have been able to follow you. The dark craft that keeps these roads tends to erase such things over time.”

“So, this Eclipse place, what should I know before I get there?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. I apologize, young man. You speak so well, and your aura is so strong, I keep forgetting that your education is rather lacking. Where did you say you were from?” Jassin probed.

I hadn’t said. It was a trap, a question I was better off not trying to answer, considering how little I knew. Better to look a little rude than entirely ignorant. Maybe I could get by with a half truth.

“A little place called Proxis,” I answered, careful to keep it vague.

“Pro-k-siss. I have never heard of such a place, though I’m sure I could find it if given half a day in the library.” That sounded like a threat, almost. “It sounds Vistian. Is that right?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. We’re Vistian… at least I was. Now, I guess I’m a wanderer. So, about Eclipse?”

Jassin’s eyes narrowed slightly, growing hard around the edges, and his mouth twitched slightly upward in the ghost of a triumphant smile. Then he was back to being a professor, which seemed to be his natural state.

“Well, Ryan, Eclipse is the crown jewel of our world, at least in respect to knowledge. It is home to seven universities, four separate practitioner’s guilds, and the grandest library Ralqir has ever seen, courtesy of the city’s previous occupant and his eccentricities.”

“The previous occupant?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. I tried to play it casual, but the way he left the statement dangling out there, it was like he was just begging me to ask.

Again, Jassin’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to peer at me more closely. “The Dark Lord, boy. The Dark Lord. Not any of the pretenders we’ve had in the past few hundred years.”

He studied my face, presumably looking for some kind of reaction: recognition or fear or awe maybe. When he didn’t get it, Jassin let out a very unlordly snort then went on.

“Wildlings. You really don’t know, do you? You’re like a blank slate. Ryan, this was the Dark Lord’s home, his fortress and laboratory. Surely, you didn’t think we’d build a city in the middle of such a charming environ by choice,” he revealed with incredulity.

I’d failed whatever test that had been, and I needed to recover.

“Honestly, I- uh- hadn’t actually realized where I was. I’m sorry. I know about the Dark Lord off hand, of course, but the knowledge just hasn’t been relevant to my life. I’ve been focused on survival above all.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Jassin gasped, giving me a look like I’d just kicked his dog and took a dump on his couch. “Not relevant? Not relevant!” His face turned red in that way Miss Sheferty’s used to when I’d said we would never use long division outside of school. “Young man, you literally owe your life to the Dark Lord. I’m not saying he was a good and benevolent figure, but he shaped the history of our planet to such a degree that none of us would be here today if not for what he did. The food you eat, the roads you travel upon right now, the shade, the very spell you cast to obtain your dominion.” he reached over and rapped his knuckles on my prosthetic arm, eliciting a little *gong.* “... It was all him. You may not wish to think upon it, but the Dark Lord’s legacy has touched every aspect of your life, and you now go to what used to be the heart of his power.”

Garret grunted some kind of order from outside the carriage, and there was a flurry of activity as the click clack of hooves seemed to rush in to surround us. The old guardsman leaned down and parted the curtains with a gauntleted hand to speak to Jassin directly.

“Goblins, my Lord,” Garret whispered quietly. “Don’t look like much of a threat. They’re just walking on the road, but we’re keeping tight just in case.”

“More of them? That’s the third- no, fourth sighting on this journey. Very well, Garret. Thank you,” Jassin replied, still reclining in his seat. He didn’t seem overly worried. I, on the other hand, felt a chill crawl up my spine, and I could feel my body tensing for some kind of action.

Slowly, steadily, the carriage rolled on, surrounded by our guard, and the clack of hooves was the only sound that reached the interior. Garret stayed close, next to the window, using his hairy mount presumably to block his master from any projectiles the goblins might lob his way. Another guard took up our other flank, filling the opposite window with white fur as well.

Then I started to hear voices, high and quiet.

“Get to the side of the road,” one ordered with some authority. Others were more quiet and furtive.

“Don’t look at them.”

“Keep walking.”

Garret rode rigid in his saddle, one hand clutching his crossbow, the other on the pommel, his face made of stone.

I couldn’t help myself. I was nervous and curious and boxed in. “Garret. What are they doing?” I asked.

Garret didn’t look at me to answer. “I don’t know. Don’t look like a raiding party. Got their children and their elders with them. Precious few fighters in the bunch too, but they’ve got some decent kit. Best stay quiet while we ride by and not rile ‘em up.”

The squeak of the wheels and the clacking of hooves was all the sound in the world for a few minutes, interspersed with the occasional cough or wailing goblin child from outside. Then I heard something familiar.

“It’s okay. We get there soon, and we rest. Don’t play with it. The wrap has to stay clean.”

No way.

I flung the carriage door open so fast, it startled Garret’s mount, forcing it to lunge to the side, drawing a chorus of alarmed goblin shouts and curses from Garret himself.

My feet hit the quellstone, feeling the cold knives stab into my flesh, but I wasn’t paying attention to that. I stumbled a little on the dismount, but after a couple seconds I had my balance and started looking around.

Yes. Their clothes. Their baskets and packs. The way they spoke. All of it was familiar. Most telling of all, I spotted a warrior among them with a pristine iron spear and bucket helmet of my own design, one that probably had a specific set of grooves on the inside in the shape of a caterpillar.

I was looking for someone specific though.

“What are you doing, boy?” Garret growled. His mount was back under control, and the guard’s eyes never stopped moving. Garret had a hard look to him as he swiveled his head back and forth, taking in everything at once, every detail, every threat including me. His crossbow was up now, not pointed at me but ready, while the rest of the guards closed ranks, crowding in around Jassin’s ride.

“Wait,” I said, taking several steps toward the back of the carriage, standing up tall to try and get a better view of all the green faces. The goblins, two columns of them on either side of the road, had all stopped now, their eyes wide and ready to bolt or fight or whatever they needed to do.

Jassin leaned out of the open door. “Ryan, where are you going? Eclipse is close, and we are already late.”

“Wait just a minute,” I pleaded with him, pushing through the guards’ mounts and stepping onto the open road.

“Tiba?!” I called with my hands cupped over my mouth. “Tiba!”

“Mister Ryan, you need to get back in the carriage now,” Garret ordered from behind me. All levity and warmth was gone from his voice. He was a hair away from doing something I’d regret. “You rile up these goblins, and there’ll be blood. We’ve seen it time and again.”

“Ryan?” Someone asked quietly from my right.

I whirled around. There she was in all her tiny green glory, holding a goblin child, its bandaged leg dangling down to droop past the healer’s waist. Tiba looked tired. Her hair was a mess, falling down in stringy clumps in front of her face, and her eyes were red like she’d not gotten much sleep. She stepped to the side and handed the child to one of the adults next to her before stepping forward, timidly sparing a glance for the crossbows of the guards.

“Ryan? Is that you?” She asked again.

I nodded, striding up to her. The cold quellstone under my bare feet made every step painful, but I ignored it. Once I got within a few feet of the little healer I stopped to look down at her.

So small. Were they always so small?

Then I realized it was the first time I’d seen her from my full height.

“I barely recognize you,” she said. “Where is all of your hair? It is pretty hair, especially when you let me pick the style.” Her forced levity didn’t quite land. Neither of us were feeling it.

I went down on one knee in front of her, bringing myself to her level where things felt familiar. “My escape cost me a great deal,” I admitted. Out of habit, I reached up to brush non-existent hair out of my eyes.

“Yes. Mine too,” she replied, her eyes sinking down to the cobblestones.

I nodded gravely. “I know,” I said. “I’m glad you made it out.”

“Yes. We take the long tunnels through the mountain. The old ones from before the Beginning. I want to take you with us, but Kuul-”

“Kuul,” I growled, a flare of hatred igniting in my chest and searing my throat. “Where is Kuul? I want to speak to him.” I wanted to do far more than that. Far more.

Tiba shook her head, not meeting my eyes. “He is gone. He stays in the old tunnels and does big magic for us. Old, big magic.”

“What do you mean? Where? Tell me,” I demanded, looking back the way we’d come, my hands involuntarily balling into tight fists. There had to be a reckoning for what Kuul had done to me. What he’d done to Hunty. I found myself nearly on my feet before I realized what I was doing. Where I was going.

When my mind caught up to me again, I forced myself to pause and breathe.

I’m not going back to that mountain. Not yet.

I was free. Kuul wasn’t here. No one was going to lock me away again. Not him. Not anyone. I would make sure of that.

There still needed to be a reckoning between the two of us.

Not yet.

I still had things I needed to do.

“I’m sorry, Tiba,” I said, sinking down to my knees again.

Tiba either didn’t notice my near outburst or didn’t care. She looked tired. “I don’t know how the magic works. Kuul stays in the old tunnels and communes with the Mendau. He sacrifices to save the Stone Hearts, or, at least, that’s what he says.”

“You speak like them?” Garret was behind me now, his mount slightly angled so he was able to turn either way in the saddle and get off a shot at whatever goblin made a move. “How did you learn to do that?”

“What?” I asked the old guard, confused. “I’m just…”

“What does he say?” Tiba interrupted, placing a hand on my wrist. “Is he going to hurt us?”

“No. I-” I noticed it then, the way my voice changed when I spoke to Tiba, how it felt. Now that I was listening, the words were a multilayered series of grunts, clicks, and growls, yet it was as natural as if it had been my native tongue.

“What is she saying, Mister Ryan? Are we about to be in a fight?” Garret stared at me now, his eyes hard but pleading while his mount stamped nervously and fought to turn away. The old guardsman seemed to genuinely want to avoid bloodshed.

“Uh. I know her. She’s telling me how they got here.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.”

I turned to Tiba. “Tiba, these people aren’t going to hurt anyone as long as no one attacks them.”

Tiba looked around timidly at all the stern faces and primed crossbows. “You’re sure? They look like they hate us,” she whispered.

“Pretty sure. Can you tell everyone to relax, please? Trust me.”

“I do trust you, Ryan,” she replied with a sad smile before she cupped a hand to her mouth. “Ryan speaks for us! Rest time!”

I winced as the little healer started shouting, knowing it would sound sinister to the guards. They tightened their grips on their triggers, but no one killed anyone else.

That was progress.

Then came the part I’d been dreading. “Tiba,” I began, looking down to my open hand, summoning the spear from my spatial storage. The weapon appeared in a shower of sparkling motes of light.

Hunty’s Spear: A cherished spear crafted by a fledgeling artificer and sized for a goblin. The spear tip is magnificently sharp and can repair itself multiple times before going truly dull.

Damage: 4-8 (Piercing)

Quality: Excellent

Style: Custom

Magic: Repair

Tiba gasped and shrank away.

Of course she did. The only person she’d ever had in her life that could do that kind of thing was Kuul, and that didn’t come with the best of memories. On some level, she had to know I did magic, but I guessed she thought it was the slow, boring kind of magic that couldn’t hurt her.

To Tiba’s credit, she got control of herself quickly after she recognized what I was holding.

I clutched the spear in my hand, hard enough to turn my knuckles white. When I spoke, my voice felt rough, and the words were sandpaper.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I said, feeling the words catch in my throat. “About Hunty. I wish I could’ve… he shouldn’t have died for me.”

I consciously relaxed my fingers and extended my arm to present the weapon to Tiba.

Her eyes were fixed upon the thing, as if I was passing her a venomous snake, but with trembling hands, she slowly reached out and took it, a look of disbelief on her face. She ran her hand over the haft and traced her fingers over the little knobs and grooves, reexploring the familiar. Then she was clutching it close. The way she held it, cradled it, it was obvious she had no experience holding a weapon, but she wanted it there nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry,” I said again. “He was a good goblin. My friend.”

“Yes, he is. Hunty is the best of goblins. You bring me a part of Hunty today” Tiba sniffed and wiped at her eyes, still holding the spear close to her heart. “Thank you, Ryan. He would be glad you live, and he would laugh at your bald head.”

Someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned to see Lord Jassin, who looked down at me with an urgent, immediate sort of interest, like I’d gained the attention of some kind of predatory bird, and it was studying me to figure out if I was prey.

Some kind of power flashed behind his eyes as he ran his gaze over me. Whatever he was looking for, he either didn’t find it or found something he didn’t like. He shook his head and stroked his chin as a pensive frown pulled the corners of his mouth downward. “Unbelievable,” he repeated yet again.