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As Silven crumpled to the pavement, his dying mind thought one last thought. Thank Gurzelwuck it was a good one.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t yet spent any of his fanfares from that blasted manor house. He really was forgetful in his ever so slightly less young days. With one melting finger, he touched his chest and found himself instantly on his feet atop a surge of energy. “Phew! Instamaxhealth!” he cried, brushing away ash from his warped armour. He turned sternly to the scattering of children behind a fallen bench. “Get experimenting, kids. There may yet be another day this century that science might come in vaguely handy.” Zolar Ceneron raised her hands again. He winked. “Sorry. Be back in a tick.” Off he dashed down the road, inches ahead of the enraged witch’s molten river.
A few minutes later, he stepped off the scorching streets of Desert Marsh and into the shade of Elegant Perfumes and Powders. “One lava blocker, please,” he asked the proprietor. “There is a miracle potion for everything, right?”
Lord Eleganto smiled, took a golden bottle from a wooden shelf off to his side, pompously pinched off the cork and, with a practised flick of the wrist, emptied the contents onto Silven’s breastplate. He looked on approvingly as the metal instantly took on its former shape. “Repair Solution, now with Extragleam Plus,” he announced, bowing to his customer. “As a complimentary gift, for such a noble dean. Indeed, the answer to your question is yes.”
Silven looked down admiringly as Eleganto returned to his shelves. You really didn’t notice the lack of shine to your plate until someone showed you the error of your ways. “Thanks, my lord. I...” He faltered. “I’ve never been so close to the end. But life does, just about, go on.”
“Of course it does.” Eleganto set down another potion. “I’m feeling generous towards our town hero. Enjoy.”
Silven reached out a hand and paused. His smile turned upside down. “Forgive me, but shouldn’t a fire potion be, you know, all red and smouldery?” He clasped the thin bottle and raised it to his face. “This is all black and noxious, and...” He peered closer. “It appears to have tiny white skulls floating in it.”
Eleganto blinked and tugged at his beard fretfully. “Oh, I do apologise. Of course. Wrong one. Here you are.” He reached behind him and pulled down another bottle. The liquid inside was red and smouldery.
“Cheers!” called Silven. He took one huge, spicy gulp, left Eleganto with the other bottle, and found himself back before the burning grove.
“Right, where were we?” he called. A glowing tsunami of fiery energy splashed harmlessly across metal and skin. “Oh, yeah. That was it. You were trying to kill me. Cheerio!” He drew his sword and charged into the trees. He batted two rebels aside, stopped ponderously, and sheathed his weapon. He looked Zolar up and down. “I’ve just thought of something,” he gasped.
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Zolar motioned for her soldiers to back off and dowsed Silven in fire once more. “What now?”
He pointed. “In all my travels, I’ve never once met a powerful woman.” It was true. Here was Zolar, long, curly black locks, stiletto heels, and not much else. Only a thin green metallic strip of armour struggled to span her enormous chest humps. He was pretty sure she was female.
Zolar chuckled musically. “You have now, darling. There’s always a first and a last to everything. And now, before you call in your trampling mob of iron-obsessed friends, it’s time to do my duty to this free city.” She jerked a hand up threateningly, eyes never leaving Silven’s.
“But why now? Why did you abandon the king for these brutes?” the warrior insisted.
Zolar wiggled her humps in reply. “These, of course. Do you not know the ways of the world? A woman lives for one thing.”
“Influence?” ventured Silven.
“Sex!” crooned Zolar. She tossed back her hair and looked longingly at Silven’s forearms. “I am a sensual woman, Silven. The king couldn’t cope with my constant, insatiable advances, so I had to roam elsewhere....” She let out a playful giggle. “I fled to the prettiest place in the kingdom to keep my delicate heart warm against the frosts of chaos. Yet here, I found no man who could satisfy me.” She licked her lips. “So I waited, and I got caught up in this silly political war thing. Of course, I can’t understand any of it, but if I can use my super fireballs of death to get back at the king, then so be it!” She gestured at the bodies of the fallen garrison strewn about the thoroughfare. “I thought I would be lonely forever, but then....” She lowered her hand and edged closer. “But then you refused to be burned to a crisp, and now that I see you closer, I feel a glowing desire spread through my womanly regions.”
Silven took a step back.
Zolar’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, come on Silven; every hero needs a special friend. Make love to me, right here, right now, and take me away to forget about all the genocidal atrocities I’ve committed. We’ll live happily ever after in a little cottage in the meadow, and engage in adventurous naughty relations all night, every night.”
“No,” said Silven.
Zolar’s eyes blazed as the man drew his sword. “You’ll never defeat me with that. Don’t forget, I’m an armour enchantress!” She pulled out a sickly green knife from her cleavage and pointed it at Silven’s helmet. Before it could all get out hand, he rushed forward and plunged his blade deep into her exposed chest. The colour drained from her face. She looked down and spat. “Oh, curse this targeted attack system. You’ve found the weak point between my bra straps.”
“You shouldn’t have gone out like that,” lectured Silven, but he’d quite forgotten he’d just stabbed the witch through the heart. The corpse had no answer for him.
He knelt and eased the body gently to the paving of the plaza. He looked around wordlessly at the silent city. The rebels were retreating. One, however, had very thoughtfully paused to lower the green separatist flag in the bell-tower of the palace before fleeing for his life. And, at that signal, the first Silverlink convoy was just passing beneath a curiously trunk-free arch by the market, laden with commercial goodies.
The quest had ended. Silven took off his helmet and offered a question to the wind. “What now?”