The terrible beast ripped through roads and buildings, all efforts at defending against it, as feeble as they were, lain to waste. All was lost, or so it had seemed. Suddenly, with a flash of light and a surge of electricity, the defender appeared, floating down from the sky, it's three heads, one comprised entirely of metal, roaring. The final battle for the fate of the city, perhaps the very world, was about to begin.
Dimitri watched closely, munching on some popcorn which had fallen beneath the seat. He had seen this film several times over the past month of staying in the theater, yet had only, at best, a basic grasp of the plot. Human lives were difficult enough to make sense of, and all the more so when you couldn't understand what anyone was saying, and more challenging still due to the added complication of time travel thrown into the mix. Still, he had learned a great deal. For one, he had learned that humans had multiple languages, something which had come as quite a shock. The fact that this movie was subtitled helped a little bit, as he could loosely associate some of the written words with the images onscreen, but the spoken language had proved to be entirely useless, as even from his limited understanding, it was clearly incompatible with the written words of the sacred text.
He was the only mouse there. Sure, the place was easy enough to get into, and there was an abundance of food, but it was also quite far away, and there were usually far too many Makers around to feel comfortable. Movies themselves were also an acquired taste. At first they had all simply seemed loud and nonsensical, but after a while, they just seemed loud.
The head researcher recognized that these movies were not like the town plays: there weren't people acting them out behind the screen, and they were recorded in some manner. This wasn't too surprising, after all the mice were familiar with drawings which could be made once and seen over and over again. This technology was clearly being an extension of that principle. A very impressive one, of course, but a concept still within reason. At no point did the mouse even consider that the events onscreen were fictional, however. They simply reinforced the notion that human life was somehow even more bizarre and complicated than he had previously assumed.
The mouse wasn't even close to being able to understand human speech, let alone read human text. Still, hearing a lot of it, most movies were in English after all, did give him a little grasp of their grammar, how some of the words were used for people, places and things, whereas others were essentially connective. He also understood the concept of syllables a bit, and that while each letter didn't necessarily represent one, often the repeated sets of letting, which he had already well documented, did. Similarly, there were certain words which he could now put to text, such when characters read signs or other print onscreen. This didn't happen nearly as often as he would have liked, but it did offer a strong starting point.
All things considered, his experience had been a very productive one, but it was time for the mouse to return to the city. Over the past few days he had found himself spending more time struggling to make sense of the story-lines than the language. A worthwhile pursuit, but his own field of study was already vast and complicated enough without trying to simultaneously become an expert on human societies and their conflicts. He would have to leave that work to a far more qualified variety of expert.
<3~ <3~ <3~ <3~
The alarm shrieked on long after every man, woman and child were well aware of the danger. Citizens fled as the town guards rushed to the scene only to be forced to stop well out of range of the massive creatures attacks, and even further out of range to strike it with their own clubs, axes and small blades. Simply charging at an opponent with an aggressive expression was a tactic which historically worked quite well for the town guards, even when they found themselves outclassed, but the dark lord called their bluff, essentially ignoring their presence, continuing to walk through the city with slow, purposeful strides.
The palace guards were beginning to arrive, their long spears no more effective, as even held outright, none of them dared risk getting close enough to the beast to thrust at it. The first proper line of attack came from above, countless burning arrows raining down from the rusted catwalks overhead, which bolstered the nearby soldiers to take action. Steady volleys from above, sharpened wooden points of spears thrusted at the heavy gray paws of the creature, even the occasional grunt willing to get in extra close to give the thick legs a whack with whatever crude implement they happened to be carrying, none of it did any good. The arrows fell like rain, and might as well had been rain for all the effect that they had, usually just thudding against the flesh of the beast and falling to the ground, at best settling against the short fur, laying upon the skin but by no means piercing it. Even when the flames of the missiles continued to burn, the small fires inflicted no hint of damage to either fur or flesh. The spears fared no better, effortlessly deflected, not by any specific effort from the dark lord, instead simply harmlessly bouncing off of the body and limbs.
That was when the ballistas fired. These were relatively new devices created by the overcity, not well tested, and never really expected to be needed. They were simply built, as so many things were, purely for the sake of being built, with the assumption that figuring out a practical use for such things could always be worked out at a later date. With a slow steady grind they were pushed along the rusted rafters, hanging underneath, suspended by heavy iron wheels. Properly aiming the devices had never been tried out, since the spot they traditionally pointed at tended to be filled with mice, and thus, properly firing was even less regularly tested than aiming. It surprised even the operators when both ended up working flawlessly. The first launched a large stone towards the creature, the sort which could turn even the hardiest mouse into something completely unrecognizable and thoroughly revolting, smashed into the right shoulder of the beast, and had accomplished what none of the other strikes had managed to: it had actually attracted the attentions of the dark lord.
The second fired moments later, launched directly at the creature's face only to be caught in mid air by a heavy paw and crushed into pebbles. The mice of the upper city worked to reload the large weapons, an even less likely prospect than initially firing them was, all the while from above and below bows and clubs and spears continued to strike from all sides.
That was when the dark lord threw back its head and let out a roar. It wasn't entirely loud, at least not in the sense you could hear it, but you could feel it, wave after wave, like the winds of a storm, pushing against the attackers forcing them to struggle to stand upright. That was when the true force of the roar struck them, and standing upright was no longer even close to an option.
Mud domes were ripped from their limited foundations, abandoned market booths torn to shreds, even the heaviest armored mice sent tumbling backwards, and within the upper city, for the archers, continuing their assault is no longer even close to possible. The narrow rusted metal surfaces they stood upon agreed. The sheer force of the roar ripped away the spots of rust, revealing what remained underneath, which in many cases proved to be nothing. Many of the thin platforms and narrow catwalks broke away entirely, crashing down onto the buildings below. Still others lurched heavily downwards, forcing the mice upon them to hold on for dear life, or tumble off over the side. No shortage of them did just that. Thankfully, the upper city wasn't all that high up, the fall nowhere close to lethal. Such was an advantage of being a small creature. A fall of ten times a human's height might be quite dangerous, but it was significantly less so for a mouse. Even the best kind of fall was still unpleasant, however, and this was nowhere close to the best sort.
The roar of the grey cat ceased, even if the low rumble following it persisted for several seconds, the powerful wave of force falling away, leaving a disorienting sense which took far longer to depart in its wake. It looked down at the terrified soldiers, who were all struggling to regain their footing and grinned, it's formerly bored and apathetic face transforming into something sinister and monstrous before it sent the closest dozen defenders flying with a single sweep of its paw. Cruel silver eyes bore down on the remaining troops, all of which stood, too terrified to charge or even flee.
---
Jerin rushed ahead, her brother, the former thief and the sorcerer close behind, only to find that her path was blocked as one of the ballistas crashed down onto the road before her, taking a sizable chunk of the overhead catwalk along with it. He she been just a little more swift, it could very well have come down on top of her. More pieces of the severely damaged roads above continued to rain down, either in the form of tiny shards of rust no larger than snowflakes, large lumps of metal, or full-sized beams which could simply no longer support their own weight, landing with enough force to flatten whatever found itself underneath them.
She clambered over the top of the ruined weapon, jumping down the other side, and rushed towards the marketplace. It was unclear what was going on, hazy through the cloud of rust and dirt, the many citizens, young and old running in the opposite direction, the ruins before her regularly cutting off what lay ahead. Finally, she could see it, the huge dark shape, the gleaming eyes, and the few spear wielding soldiers desperately fighting to hold their ground, even as others struggled to pull the wounded from the battlefield.
She stopped, staring at the terrible, heavyset creature. Its shape was somewhat similar to Seraphim, only with her it was large due to the extra thick coat of fur. In this case, it's dull grey fur was quite short, and the round face and body, crisscrossed by thick, pale lines, was comprised of pure, physical mass.
"Midnight!" she shouted to it, her long blade drawn, pointed towards the beast. "Stop where you are!"
It simply blinked at the statement, turning to face the girl, attention drawn from the backpedaling spear wielders. It narrowed its eyes at her and sighed. "Seriously?"
Jerin turned to her brother with a confused expression, who had just arrived behind her, along with Mathias, Rowan still finding himself further behind, not being much of a sprinter. Aaron simply shook his head at her.
The girl, briefly embarrassed, bit her lip, and shouted to the dark lord. "Hey, I only saw him once, and it was a long time ago! Give me a break!"
Aaron didn't feel the need to bring up the fact that they had just seen a picture of Midnight a couple of days before. It hardly seemed an important detail at the moment.
"Fine, fine." the large, dull colored creature sighed, "Anyways, I guess from the look of that sword, you must be the famed 'dark lord slayer', huh?" it said with a sly smile.
"T-that's right! Me and my friends destroyed the dark lord Seraphim, and we'll do the same to you!" Jerin shouted, trying to sound confident.
"Heh, I'm not sure I'd say you 'destroyed' her, but you sure ruined her day. You don't look like much, but I hope you can put up a little more fight than these weaklings." he said, lazily swatting another town guard who had rushed it with a raised mace, sending him sprawling.
Jerin looked back and forth. Houses in ruins, cries of pain and terror everywhere, everything bathed in the sunlight from the opened gates, a thing normally beautiful, but now encompassing everything in an ugly muddled yellow glow as it filtered through the heavy and ever rising clouds of dust.
"We can't fight here! There's too many innocent people!" She called to the creature.
"What do I care?" the large creature asked, tilting its head.
"Yeah, of course you don't... because-because you're a coward!" She shouted at it, sword visibly shaking in her paw. "You know I'd beat you easily in a fair fight, where I could battle at my full strength, and not have to worry about anyone, and that's why you're so scared!"
"Really?" He sighed, eyes narrowed, looking downright bored.
"Yeah, that's right! Let's take this fight somewhere else!" She said, forcing an unconvincing grin. "If you're half as strong as you think you are, and really think that you can win, that won't be a problem. I can defeat you wherever you want... anywhere! Anywhere but here!"
The dark lord stared at the mouse, this tiny creature who was shaking all over. He saw the two at her side, their weapons raised, who weren't faring much better. Much to his surprise, he actually felt the faintest twinge of sympathy.
"Fine." it growled, turning back towards what was once the gate protecting the city, now a tattered hole where a sizable portion of the wall along with the gateway were ripped away. "Come to the car yards, and bring as many of your people as you want. Don't keep me waiting too long."
Jerin stood, sword still pointed outwards, eyes wide even as the beast vanished from view. It was only then, when she heard her brother calling her name, that she fell down onto her knees, whole body shivering.
"Jerin? Can you hear me? Are you okay?" He asked.
"Yeah. I'm-I'm fine." she said, sounding downright numb, staring blankly at the empty space where the dark lord had once stood.
"Anyone know where these 'car yards' that that thing spoke of, are?" Mathias asked.
"Yes. I am well aware of them. There are tunnels from the city which lead directly to them. Not the shortest of paths, but a fairly safe one." Rowan said, finally catching his breath.
"So, what exactly do we do with that information?" Aaron asked.
"We have to go. We have to." Jerin said, rising back to her feet, still staring at the yellow dust-filled void where the gates had once stood.
"Shouldn't we think about this? I know how you feel, and I don't necessarily disagree, it's just that-"
"We need to go! Right now!" She replied.
"That might not be such a bad idea. That dark lord? It called us out specifically. It came here looking for us, and I'm not sure it's wise to hang around here." Mathias said, looking about at the ruined market district. "The folks around here might not be too happy about that fact."
There was a long pause, before Aaron finally sighed, turning to Rowan. "Take us to these tunnels."
The four quickly walked towards the eastern wall, the path littered with pieces of torn away mud roofs and fallen metal. Aaron was glad that they hadn't come upon any bodies, not only because it was a sign that perhaps the structures took the brunt of the damage rather than the people, but also because he could tell that his sister was nearing her breaking point, even without seeing anyone badly hurt or killed. Even with her white fur (although significantly less white right now, with the air so filled with dust), she still looked deathly pale. In truth, even as comparatively battle hardened as he was, he wasn't doing much better, even if he was determined to not let that show on his face.
When they finally did arrive at the tunnel, a large hole dug near the barrier which lead underneath the wall, they found two familiar mice, Leonard the wall builder, sitting with his head in his paws, along with Gabriella. Both were covered in dust, the guard woman's clothing tattered, the glass axe across her back now only having a single jagged shard stuck to the shaft, the remainder of it having been broken away.
"Is he okay?" Jerin asked, going down on one knee, looking to the male wall builder who didn't reply, shaking all over. It was difficult for Aaron to feel concerned, as he wasn't certain that his sister had blinked even once since she had first stared down the dark lord, even if her own shivers had since ceased.
"Don't worry about him, he'll be fine." The female guard smiled to the younger mouse. "Thank you. We owe you for driving that thing away. Things would have been much worse had it been allowed to continue rampaging."
"Huh? But I didn't do anything! If anything, this is all-" Jerin whimpered, lip trembling.
The larger mouse woman pressed a finger to the tip of Jerin's snout. "No, don't even think of saying it. All of us owe you a great debt."
"Maybe you should consider evacuating the city." Mathias said, looking down at his feet. "You know, just in case it comes back."
"Where would we evacuate to? Even if we didn't have wounded, we'd just be exposing the citizens to far more danger. No, even without the gate, this city is a fortified position, one that we can defend, and if we can't... well, it's still better to fall together than get picked off one by one, right?"
Leonard remained silent throughout the entire conversation, trapped within his own little world.
"That's not going to happen." Jerin said, voice still wavering. "We're going to stop it, somehow. We did it before, we can do it again."
Gabriella smiled. "I'm sure you will. Just, please... be careful." she turned to Aaron. "All of you. I know, you all feel guilty, but that doesn't mean that you have to take everything on, on your own."
"Don't worry, we can handle this." Aaron nodded to her.
"Yeah, we just went through this. If anything, this whole fighting dark lords thing is getting boring. We'll probably beat this one in half the time that the last one took!" Mathias grinned.
"Please take care of things here. There is no need to concern yourself with us." Rowan said.
"Heh, yeah, you're right. If anything, we've got the hard job. Need to rebuild, set up defenses and deal with all these scared folks, while you guys get to run off on an exciting adventure." Gabriella said with a small smile.
"Wanna trade?" Mathias asked, smiling a little wider.
"Tempting, but I think I'll pass. Don't worry though, there will be plenty of work left to help with, if you come back." She said before pausing, looking embarrassed. "When. When you come back, I mean."
"Yeah, I knew what you meant." the brother said, before looking to Jerin. "Let's go."
The tunnel wasn't unfamiliar, a typical rounded burrow, much less frightening when well lit and especially when accompanied by allies. Each of the three males had tried and failed to cheer Jerin up, who remained completely silent, seemingly looking ahead at nothing. This was a naturally tall order seeings as how they were in far from the highest of spirits themselves. Aaron felt the need to speak, even if his sister was in no mood to reply..
"That dark lord, the big grey one. Do you know anything about it?" He asked the elderly sorcerer. "Probably not. You didn't get a chance to check out those books of yours."
"I do not need to. I am very much familiar with that beast. I have never encountered it personally, of course, but its presence is well documented." He said. "The history of that creature is closely entwined with the place where it makes its lair."
"Those car yards? I think I've heard the name before. What exactly is it?" Mathias asked.
"It was once a massive city. It still is, I suppose, but now it has but one inhabitant. It held more glass, more metal, more treasure of virtually every sort than one could possibly imagine, all available for the taking. It was also a place that the Makers rarely visited. The first mice who had made their home there had accomplished a great many things, constructed advanced weaponry, improved their society by leaps and bounds. Then it was all lost."
"Because of the dark lord?" The former thief asked.
"Yes. well, ultimately yes. In time, less than one might hope, the mice had begun to fight over the place, dividing into many different factions, all of which had their own viewpoints of how the region should be used and, naturally, who should ultimately be in control of it. It took little time for them to turn their advanced weaponry against one another. It was not long after that the dark lord appeared. A peace was brokered between these warring factions, but it had proven to be short lived. The creature was given the name of 'Fury', an apt title all things considered. Within one day, everything that the mice built had fallen into to ruin, the few survivors scattered. Even their advanced weaponry did nothing against the dark lord, which has made the place its home ever since."
"That was a while ago, right? It's hard to tell with creatures like that, but it looked kind of old and haggard. Maybe it has weakened since then?" Mathias said.
"It is very much possible." the sorcerer nodded.
"Even if it hasn't, we'll find a way to defeat it." Aaron said.
"So what if we do? What's the point?" Jerin finally spoke up.
Aaron looked to her with an expression of concern. "Look, I know you're feeling guilty, but we all knew that this mission was dangerous..."
"Yeah, dangerous for us! But all those people... they didn't ask for this, and they still all got hurt, and it was all my fault!" She cried out.
"You're right. They didn't ask for this. Neither did we or our parents or all those mice who lived at our old village. Neither did all the people who regularly get attacked and killed whenever they dare step outside of the city walls. First off, this isn't 'your' fault, we all agreed to this, and it isn't 'our' fault either. The only thing to blame is that fat-faced monster who attacked our city."
"I just wanted to get back at them for destroying our home. For cutting off my tail." she said in a soft voice. "I didn't want to start some kind of war with the dark lords."
"We didn't start this war, but that doesn't mean we can't finish it." Mathias interjected, "And if another dark lord comes by looking for revenge or whatever, we'll just defeat that one too! We'll do it as many times as it takes until even creatures as thick headed as they are come to realize that picking a fight will only get them hurt."
Jerin lowered her head, saying nothing.
"You know, I briefly considered sending you home. The side of town our parents live in took little damage, and you would have been safe there. I thought I would send Mathias and Rowan home, too, just go on my own. I'd surely die, but hopefully it would keep everyone safe." The large mouse sighed. "But, that would be stupid, right? There's no point in fighting at battle you can't win, and I can't win without you." Aaron added, turning to the thief and the sorcerer. "Without all of you."
He looked to his sister with a small smile, and froze, the expression looking back at him a hateful glare.
"You were just going to go off and die?" she said, in a stern, slow voice. "That creature was going to kill you?"
"Well, I just considered it briefly... you know-" The older sibling said, visibly flustered.
"I'm not going to let that happen. If that-that thing thinks that it can just hurt whoever it wants, it's sorely mistaken." She said, gripping the handle of the blade at her belt so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "That monster is going to pay."
Aaron had intended to offer some words of encouragement to her, briefly glad that she had returned to her old self, only to realize that she hadn't. He had never seen her like this before, her eyes filled with pure rage. He wasn't entirely certain that it was an improvement, but he was hardly in a position to complain. This would be a hard fought battle, and they would all need to fight with everything that they had.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
---
Meanwhile, the dark lord, Fury, padded through the large gateway into its home, a passage incomparably larger than the one of the rodent city. It yawned, ragged tail swishing behind it, sauntering between the endless towers of crushed vehicles. There was a growl up ahead. A canine, mangy, starving, with a crazed look in its eyes crouched before the cat, snarling, drool dripping from its chin, flanked at each side by two others, different breeds but all sharing the same muddy and tattered fur textures, not to mention similar desperate expressions. One easily could count the ribs of every one of the dogs.
The feline continued walking towards them as they barked and growled and threatened and, finally, charged.
Seconds later, with a sound of crashing metal which could be heard throughout the entire neighborhood, the five invaders were sent running, yipping, eyes wide with terror. The dark lord gave an annoyed hiss over its shoulder as they fled, and continued through to its inner sanctum. That brief skirmish had cost him precious time, time that could have instead been spent on a far more important task: that being, his afternoon nap.
---
Mathias had felt no need to ask whether anyone else had seen that. He knew that his allies had not, and found himself profoundly jealous of them as a result.
The tunnel was long but relatively straight forward. There were the occasional forks and bends, but Rowan guided them, pointing out which paths were necessary without a hint of hesitation. Jerin couldn't but help reminisce about her lone excursion which began this journey, and wished that back then she could have traveled with her current allies, shared the experience properly with them. At the end of that trek laid the uncertain dangers of the Makers shrine. This trip through this tunnel was very much different, with there being nothing uncertain about the threat that they were facing. She was already feeling somewhat better, the literal distance from the carnage in the city, and especially the focus on the battle ahead helping to distract her from unpleasant thoughts, both depressing and vengeful.
Her mood brightened further still at the sight which lay ahead.
"Look! A treasure chest!" she chirped, hopping over towards it. As anyone can tell you, finding hidden treasure tends to be a great way to improve an otherwise miserable day.
"Wait, don't open it!" Aaron called to her..
Jerin paused, looking over at him. "Why not? Are you worried it's a mimic?"
Aaron sighed. "Mimics aren't real. It's just... don't you think this is a little too convenient?"
Aaron was only partially correct. The idea that there were creatures out there which imitate treasure chests, especially mouse-sized treasure chests in order to lure in unsuspecting adventurers was an absurd one. Mimics did exist however, but they didn't pretend to be boxes or cloaks or even mice. They pretended to be human.
"How can something be 'too convenient'?" Jerin asked.
"Okay, fine... It''s suspiciously convenient."
"Have we had this conversation before?" Mathias butted in before Jerin could comment about how Aaron thinks everything is suspicious.
The pair of siblings blinked and looked to one another, uncertain, before finally Aaron continued, "Okay, fine, isn't it incredibly strange for there to be a wooden unopened box, just sitting here, waiting for us to come by and claim it?"
"It is not so uncommon. While I have little experience adventuring myself, explorers regularly encounter such objects." Rowan said, looking closer at the unopened wooden box. This revealed no new information, seeing as how the elderly mouse was practically blind.
"Let me check it real quick." said Mathias, carefully stepping in towards it, studying it, looking for any manner of trap mechanism. "It looks safe enough. Shouldn't explode or anything. Let me see." he added, flipping up the latch, opening it very carefully. The box, was almost suspiciously high quality, very well crafted. It was important for it to be, however, as if it were worn out and indistinct, adventurers might simply pass it by, dismissing it as rubbish.
"Wow, look at all of this stuff!" Jerin stepped in, digging through it before Mathias could fully confirm that it was untrapped. Fortunately, the box was completely safe.
"So, you can still find and disarm traps, huh?" Aaron asked the archer.
"Of course! That's not the kind of skill you lose just because you change class." Mathias smiled.
"...but doing a back-flip, that's impossible now?" the larger mouse furrowed his brow.
"Well, not impossible. Just, you know, really inappropriate!"
"Hey, can we focus on the treasure here?" Jerin called over her shoulder. The box wasn't completely filled, of course, that would be far too generous, but did contain a wide assortment of items. There was a tied bag, which even without opening was clearly filled with food-stuffs, several healing potions of assorted sizes (all of which functioned the same, but there were no standardized bottles within mouse society, most simply being clay pots or bowls with plastic tied over the top of them). There was also a dark glass short-sword, a metal cap, a pair of bracers along with a belt, several arrows, rings and a pair of stone mouse figurines.
"So let me see if I understand the premise here." Aaron sighed. "Nobody here thinks it's suspicious that there's a box, sitting, in the middle of nowhere, full of valuable and useful stuff, which is free for anyone who comes by to take?"
"It is clear that this box was not lost or discarded. There are no signs of other furnishings, or any evidence that this place is the home or property of anyone in particular." The elderly mouse replied.
"That doesn't answer the question at all!"
"Can't you just accept it? Why do you need to pick everything apart?" Jerin shook her head. The girl was far from surprised by his attitude, having a lifetime of experience of it, but his compulsion to always spoil a good mood, especially right now when they so desperately needed a 'win' was really wearing on her.
There was, of course, a fairly logical reason for such treasures being about. The mouse city found itself in what would be called by future scholars as the 'age of adventures', in no small part inspired by the book at the center of town. Even without being able to read, the pictures of explorers, strange creatures and mysterious worlds captivated many of the people. It should go without saying, however, that most people are not well suited to the adventuring lifestyle, and some of these people even realized it for themselves, without needing to step out into the wilderness to die horribly to some beastie which they could never hope to outrun, much less outfight. That didn't mean that all of these more self aware mice simply sat idle, of course. Many may have engaged in completely unrelated fields, abandoning such heroic fantasies, but for others? They still wished to be a part of this glorious age, even if they could only experience it vicariously. Some ran shops, some crafted weapons, and others? Well, others decided to support potential heroes from the sidelines. Nearby, easy to find treasures, naturally, regularly needed to be constantly restocked, and thus couldn't possibly hold much of value, but those far away, only to be discovered by bravest of fighters and explorers? The contents of those could be downright precious.
There were some mice who were excellent crafters and scavengers yet lived in abject poverty due to this obsession, this desire to play just a small unseen role in the quests of potentially great heroes. No matter how little they had and how poor their lives were, they always reacted with delight whenever they would do their rounds only to find one of their treasures had been claimed. They would never be thanked for their contributions, choosing to remain hidden to maintain the mystique of it, and would similarly never even see the excited faces of the adventurers who stumbled upon such riches. What they would know, even when they are old and gray, was that even if they were never great heroes themselves, even they managed to play a small part in the great tales bards would later sing about, and that? That was enough for this rare breed of mouse.
"This stuff is nice. Really nice." Mathias said, holding up the short-sword to study it closer. Aaron couldn't help but be reminded of his own old blade, that is to say his mothers old blade. This one was smaller, thinner, the glass a dark gray, almost black, compared to the muddy brown of the longsword that was destroyed in his previous encounter with the dark lord Midnight. Despite being of smaller size, it was clearly better crafted. Any of the items within the box would have been at home within a high end shop.
"I guess people don't come by here very often, huh?" Jerin asked.
"No, we are almost at the lair of the dark lord. It is the sort of place that few would dare venture." Rowan nodded.
"Except for us, I guess." Aaron said, setting the metal cap atop his head. It actually fit quite well, which was surprising, seeing as how he had a fairly large head. Even the slots at each side for his ears were properly positioned. This manner of helmet design was seen as far superior to the variety which covered ears as well. For one thing, the round, hardened ear caps were very difficult to properly construct, much less fit comfortably. For another, it proved incredibly difficult to hear through them. Still, this did mean that it wasn't the least bit common for more battle scarred adventurers to be missing one or both of their ears, as they were a fairly large and not particularly resilient target.
"I'll bet you could use these bracers, Rowan!" Jerin said, handing them to the old sorcerer. The items were metal, but visibly tarnished and similarly not too heavy.
"I thought wizards couldn't wear armor?" the old mouse's great grandson said.
"That is generally true, but magical power is stored within the center of ones mass, and quickly moves through to the paws, completely bypassing the wrists and forearms. Thus, those remain the one and only portions of a sorcerer's, not wizard's, body which can be properly armored." Rowan said, hmming as he looked down at them. "These are indeed of fine quality, and it would certainly be nice to have some small measure of protection. Nicely tattered, as well. Still, I cannot help but think that they would better serve one of you." he said, looking to the siblings, the front-line fighters of the group.
"I already have armor on my arm. Plus, I don't think they'd even fit me." Aaron said, looking down at the rather bulky and muscular lower portions of his paws.
"I need my wrist free for my shield." Jerin said. "Plus, they don't go with my outfit. You should take them!"
The old mouse nodded his head, feeling no urge to further debate the matter. He clasped one about each frail wrist. "Thank you. It is an interesting sensation, wearing armor, and knowing I could take a solid hit if so required."
"Uh, you should probably still avoid that." Aaron said. Even if they could fend off a deadly attack, which they likely couldn't, the flesh underneath was no less brittle.
"How about the sword?" Mathias said to Jerin. "You said that you always wanted to try dual wielding."
"Nah, it doesn't really match. Plus, I also have a shield which I haven't used nearly as much as I'd like. Also, sometimes I like to use my sword two handed. It can replace that knife of yours, make you look more like a dark-knight! It's a different kind of sword, and smaller, so everyone will still know that I'm the leader." Jerin nodded, that being an important concern. As everyone of course knows, with swords, bigger is always better, at least in image and significance, even if not necessarily practical use.
The young black furred mouse raised the blade, holding in vertically overtop one of his eyes. "At last, a sword of darkness, from which I may rend the heavens in twain!"
Jerin frowned. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm not buying it."
"Thank the Makers someone else said it." Aaron sighed, terrified that this was going to be one of those ludicrous situations that he so consistently found himself in: The sort where he was the only one that recognized just how stupid things were.
"Huh? What do you mean? I'm just releasing the inner darkness within my soul!" Mathias said, whiskers twitching in surprise. He really thought he had nailed it that time.
"It just feels forced. Plus, I'm not sure 'cutting the heavens in twain' is something dark knights actually do." The young swordswoman said, although she was more than a little bit uncertain. As with most mice, including many who were actually a part of the profession, she had little idea what exactly it was that dark knights did. As a result, it was impossible to say for certain what, specifically, they did not do.
"Really? Hmmm." Mathias said, looking back to the grey blade. "I guess mastering a new profession doesn't happen overnight. I'll keep working at it."
Jerin smiled in response, and upon looking at that genuine smile, the very notion of feeling dark or weary or sorrowful felt completely impossible to the former thief. Still, Mathias vowed to not give up on his efforts, convinced that they would pay off later, even if, in the face of that smile, he did feel significantly less pressured to develop a darker and cooler persona.
"Um, thanks for the sword!" Mathias smiled a goofy grin, the likes of which would have earned him the immediate ire of a proper dark knight, "Still, seems unfair you don't get anything."
"Sure I do! Rings of protection!" she said, raising her paws and wriggling her fingers. A ring sat on the pink middle finger of each paw, made of wood, not metal, but still having a colored stone set within the middle of each. Among mouse craftsmanship, it was quite uncommon for an item to be deliberately made of more than one material. As for the 'protection' aspect, fingers are very important parts of the body, especially for a swordsman. Such rings, bracelets and circlets never claimed to offer much in the way of protection, but anything was better than nothing. There were, of course, rings that weren't protective as well, with the key difference between them being that the protective ones tended to be double the price, and had the words 'of protection' following their title.
Jerin had similarly claimed the belt, her old one in rather poor shape, even from the start, and all the worse after the battle with Seraphim. Such an item was not really worthy of holding her beautiful metal sword. The new one wasn't really either, but that's always the drawback of having a single exceptional piece of equipment which eclipses everything else you own. Nothing else can ever quite hope to match it, and as a result, one can only do the best with what they have. As for the figurines, while entirely non-magical, Rowan thought that they would make nice decorations for his laboratory. All that remained were the arrows, which were left behind, being incompatible with Mathias' crossbow. The box itself was left wide open, as is tradition, in order to let the restocker know that the items within it were claimed. The party continued forward.
While the journey wasn't particularly dangerous, still, it was a relief when they had finally caught hints of daylight, largely blocked by the swaying reeds and tall grasses. Directly outside of the small burrow stood a massive wire net, stretching up out of sight, the top of it lined with a spiraling jagged cord of iron. Beyond the fence were countless cities, stacked atop one another, recognizable even after being largely smashed flat. These were not true cities, of course, just as the mice understood that the ancient decrepit structure over top their own wasn't really the city, rather being something which helped to shield it, to an extent, but the association remained, nonetheless.
"This way." Rowan said, stepping through the diamond shaped lattice of wire, surely a significant obstacle for larger creatures but not even an inconvenience for the group, as he and the others walked through a narrow gap between the piles of twisted metal. As they stepped through, it was clear that the initial wall of metal was simply one of countless, forming impassible barriers to either side.
"Look at all of this." Aaron said, looking about, wearing a rare expression of wonder upon his face. "There's enough metal here to last-"
"Forever." Jerin added, trying to take in everything around her, but not even close to able to. "You could have thousands of mice working for thousands of months, mining constantly, and not even begin to run out."
"I can see why mice in the past tried to make a city here. Just imagine what they could accomplish with all of this. Not just the metal either, there's rubber glass, plastic... even a bunch of cloth and leather!" Mathias said, rubbing a palm along the side of a crushed vehicle, leaving a clean trail within the thick layer of dust. "Any one of these has more materials than all the walls and buildings in the city combined. It might be a little hard to get at, and cut away, but anyone living here would have all the time in the world to learn how."
"Why did the other mice, the ones who lived here before..." Jerin said eyes wide, taking in everything around her. They weren't simple lumps of metal, each one was incredibly detailed, even painted, with so many small and intricate components. Different shapes, different colors, all clearly lovingly designed and crafted, and all similarly discarded. Not just one or two, either, but more than she could even count. It was impossible to not feel insignificant when faced with such splendor, and it proved difficult to feel prideful when one felt less significant than cast away wrecks. "Why did they end up fighting? There must have been enough for everyone!'
"That is, sadly, the nature of greed." Rowan sighed, "All too often, there is no such thing as 'enough'. This especially applies to material goods, but other goals and ambitions can lead to similar problems. We convince ourselves that true happiness is but a few extra things away, but once we obtain those objects, well, as it turns out, contrary to our expectations, that we are still the same people that we were before. Nothing has fundamentally changed, and said happiness continues to elude us. Rather than learn the error of our ways, we instead double down. It is very difficult to abandon a dream, after all. We simply assume that peace and happiness are still just a few more things away, and then a few more. From there, we grow bitter at the possessions and successes of others, which undermine our own, and thus rationalize that they are the cause of our dissatisfaction. This cycle of bitterness can grow ever stronger until it consumes our very being."
"So, what? We start off miserable, and no matter what happens, whether we accomplish all of our dreams or fail at them, we're still destined to be miserable?" Jerin frowned, studying a round glass dome, larger than her body, encrusted with filth, sitting directly before her.
"Not necessarily. External factors can, indeed, lead to happiness, just as external ones may cause pain. Life is complicated. People are complicated. We all wish to believe that all it will take is a single factor, one simple thing lost or gained to repair all of the problems of the world. Occasionally, we are even correct. More often, however, problems, especially the larger ones, tend to be more fundamental than that. Quite often, the problems exist within ourselves, and no matter how safe or powerful or prosperous we become, it will fail to quell those inner demons. Quite the contrary, with nothing else to focus our minds upon, they may grow ever stronger."
"I guess I'm just wondering if we're really the good guys here. Yeah, that dark lord might have finished the job, but it sounds like the mice that lived here before were doing a good enough job of killing themselves on their own, and doing so over basically nothing. It would be nice to think they were all incredibly stupid or wicked or hateful, but in the end, I'm sure they were just mice like any others. Like us. It makes me wonder what's the point of even trying. Whether we, we as a people, succeed or fail, it might all just be the same in the end."
"There is no telling what the future may bring. Even in a place such as this, in a different world, yes, perhaps had the dark lord never appeared they would have wiped themselves out. It is also possible that, given time, they could have come to an understanding, and grew all the stronger and empathetic from their past conflicts. It is possible that had they never fought to begin with, and united from the beginning that, perhaps, they could have fought off the lord of darkness. It is also possible that they would have still found themselves destroyed by the beast. There is no denying that bad things happen sometimes, and occasionally they are even the product of the best and nobleist of intentions. This is an unavoidable part of life. These tragedies, however? They are merely a possibility, not an inevitability."
"That other dark lord, Seraphim... she seemed to think that we were impure creatures. Corrupt. Some kind of disease that needs to be purged." Jerin said.
"You can't possibly believe that's true?" Aaron replied.
"No, I don't think we are. I'm not certain we aren't, but I don't that think we are. I wonder if we could be, though." she shook her head. "Looking at what happened to the people here, though it feels like having infinite resources are our fingertips wouldn't necessarily make us better. It might make us worse." Jerin said, pressing a small paw to the muddy glass. "Could the same be said for eliminating our enemies? If, somehow, we neutralized the threat of the dark lords, is there a chance that we could lose something? Something important?"
"There is no need to over think such things. Time marches on, and sometimes things will get better, sometimes they will get worse. As I have told you before, all any of us can do is what we believe to be right, and while it is, indeed, wise to consider the consequences of ones actions, if one takes that too far, seeking to predict every imaginable outcome of every possible action, nothing will ever be accomplished. That is a lesson which I had learned far, far too late. Whatever happens, happens, and while we should all work to try to make the world a better place, the responsibility for it does not rest of any one of our shoulders. We are all simply tiny parts of the larger machine." the old mouse paused, raising a gnarled paw to his chin, "Have you ever heard the story of how our kind came to be, and our connection to the Makers and the lords of darkness?" Rowan asked.
"Yes, we have. From you. Several versions of it, all of which blatantly contradicted one another, and yet you still insist all that of them are completely accurate." Aaron shook his head.
"Well, this is a different one." The old mouse said. "...and I never contradict myself. Certain facts simply have a rather abrasive relationship with one another. Anyways, as the story goes, mice and Makers were once not so different, including in size. Both worked together in harmony, and could even speak with one another. In time, however, the mice began to think they no longer needed the Makers. They shunned the long limbed beings, believing themselves superior, believing that they did not need anyone, even resenting the fact that they were forced to share this world with another species."
In time, mice grew to forgot the language of the Makers, and the Makers began to ignore their former allies. Not only did the Makers stop seeking out the mice, they stopped seeing them at all, which made our kind grow ever smaller until the gap between the species became insurmountable.
This brings us to the dark lords. It is no secret that they tend to favor the Makers, and vice versa. Even back then they served the now massive creatures, and viewed the arrogance of the mice as a terrible, unforgivable betrayal. This was not such a problem at first, the dark lords always having been seen as lesser creatures, but before we even realized it, it was we who became the lowly ones."
"Wait, if both the Makers and mice ignored each other, why were we the ones to get small, and not them? It makes no sense." Aaron said.
"Well, these things are not necessarily literal. I believe that the idea is more that we became petty, small minded, and in turn became small bodied. It wasn't so much that we were punished for turning away from the Makers, it was something that we instead did to ourselves. In a way, we choose to become weak, because we thought that we were superior and felt that we had no need to grow. As a result, instead, we shrank in body, mind and heart."
"So, what's the lesson here? That we're exactly where we deserve to be? That the dark lords are right for hating us?" Jerin asked, lightly frowning.
"Not necessarily. However, it seems like hardly a coincidence just how many of our creation myths, no matter how varied, come down to us making a mistake, thinking too highly of ourselves, or otherwise bringing misfortune down upon our own kind. Some have taken this as a sign that we truly are unworthy, or impure as the great white cat had put it. Others see this as a sort of ingrained self loathing which we all carry within us, even if we do not necessarily realize it." The old mouse continued, "Personally, I believe that it is more to remember the importance of humility. That we are not necessarily high or low creatures, good or evil, but that we are creatures with the capacity for change, whether for good or for ill. I suppose one could make the argument that such a potential for evil does, indeed, represent a level of impurity, but even from my limited experience, it feels quite apparent that the lords of darkness are by no means immaculate and flawless creatures, either. Just like us, they are not without their own inner demons. If anything, they may actively indulge such negative impulses."
The group falls silent. "There may be decisions to be made. If we can defeat this dark lord, all of this stuff might become available for use." Aaron says.
"Yeah, it might." Jerin nods. "But I don't want any part of it. This place should be left alone."
"Are you sure?"
"Just look around, Aaron." She said in a solemn voice. "Does this look like the sort of place where good things happen?"
He did just that, taking in the world around him. Even to a pragmatic spirit such as himself, the metal heaps did not resemble piles of treasure anymore. Instead, they looked like abandoned corpses, complete with empty, broken eyes staring out at nothing. The overhang of their own city wasn't much better, just left to rot, but these, crushed between one another, all rust and jagged shards, felt colder, emptier somehow. The awful silence which filled the air certainly didn't help. There were no traces of the mice who had once lived and died here. Not even the faintest hints of their past civilization or the amazing weaponry or technology which had spawned from it. Still, while Aaron may have dismissed nearly all of the other stories the old sorcerer spouted as tall tales, he did not doubt this one. There were no bones or graves, really no evidence that anything had ever lived here, but still the place felt dead, in a way that no place that he had ever experienced before had felt.
"Yeah. It's like a tomb, isn't it? A place where things come to die." Aaron nodded, before giving her a light grin. "I thought you liked the idea of exploring crypts?"
She blinked and shook her head, chuckling softly. "Yeah, I guess you were right. You get the image in your head of mysterious passages, ancient ruins, lost treasures." She said. "But the reality is just kind of sad."
Aaron stared at his sister, smiling unpleasantly wide. Not in a manner that was cruel or malicious, but the expression of someone who clearly had very little practice with it, and clearly required a lot more training to properly pull it off.
"What is it?" Jerin asked, skeptically, expecting the worst.
"Oh, uh, nothing, really..." Aaron looked away, scratching his ear, trying to look aloof. "It''s just that I'm not used to you admitting that I am right."
Obviously, the two have agreed on many occasions in the past, and this the message is often implied. Still, there is something satisfying about hearing a hard headed individual (not that Aaron wasn't) actually say the words "You were right". It would have been all the better had she also added the magical words, "...and I was wrong", but beggars can't be choosers. In truth, this wasn't even the first time during their journey that Jerin had admitted that Aaron was right, even in so many words, but he hadn't notice before. That was a shame, as it might have given him the occasional much needed morale boost.
The younger sibling laughed, shaking her head. "Heh, well don't get too used to it. It probably won't happen again for a long, long time."
The two looked to one another, Aaron's smile feeling just a little bit more natural now. Mathias and Rowan stood to either side of the pair as all four gave the vast ruins another long look..
"I suppose that in the end, it will not be our decision anyways. Even if we choose to walk away from all of this, someone else will likely come to claim it." said Rowan.
"Maybe, but in that case, it's their problem, not ours." Jerin nodded. "We've got more immediate issues to worry about."
"Right. We'd better get moving." Mathias said. "Uh, any idea where we should look?"
"The dark lord will be right in the center of this place." Jerin said, confidently. "At least that's where I would be."
Rowan, while knowing the way to this place, had no knowledge of what specifically laid within, and could offer no real contribution. They all agreed, however, that it sounded like as good a plan as any, as they navigated the massive corridors which regularly twisted and turned upon themselves in a sort of thankfully simplistic maze. The car yard was unquestionably huge. The adventurers had grown accustomed to seeing huge places, all of them having now experienced a Makers shrine, but the universe seemed constantly determined to outdo itself. Each of those ruined vehicles could house a small town (most were significantly smaller than the shelter of their own city), and even one room in the shrine of a Maker could hold many, but here they numbered beyond count, the walls stretching both outwards and upwards, seemingly forever.
The place was, thankfully, not a true maze, and clearly not designed for intruders to get lost within. It was a creation of convenience, much like the presently ruined general store in town once was, becoming a sort of labyrinth only after it had started to run out of space, and needed new places to stack the merchandise. The store owner, however, quickly recognized the benefits of a store which customers had an easy time entering but a difficult one escaping. It made them more motivated to buy things, to convince themselves that the strange dark corner which they had ended up in five times was exactly where they had wanted to be. That there must be something here that they subconsciously wished to keep coming back for, rather than admitting that they are simply lost. Clearly, the owners and creators of this place had lacked that sort of business savvy.
It wasn't long before they had arrived at sort of clearing, the walls spreading out in irregular jagged lines to all sides, and at the center of a mountain of assorted metals and scraps, was the lord of darkness, himself. The beast wasn't sat upon a great throne, it wasn't standing upright, eager to greet the worthy opponents, and it was not surrounded by flames or electricity or pulsating tendrils of dark energy. It simply looked like a large ball of dirty, grey fur, it's heavy body curled in on itself, audibly snoring, it's large stomach rising and falling with each heavy breath.