Mezil read the reading on his electronic thermometer.
39.5 degrees Celsius. Half a point away from the full 40.
“Damn you, Persona.” He grumbled. “Are you trying to send me to the hospital? Don’t you want to see your son?”
“He can visit me there.” Replied Persona, “In fact, it might make things simpler. You wouldn’t have the strength to meddle or restrain.”
“Hmph. And yet, we’re still here in Ebott. What diabolical plans are you preparing?”
“Oh you’re ever so funny, Winston. You can’t stop what I intend to do. Call as much assistance as you need. It changes nothing.”
Mezil heard voices from beyond the door. They’re the signs of arrival for some familiar additions.
“Go and greet them like the good boy you are.”
The DEMON’s presence slipped back into the shadows, excusing himself but never truly leaving.
Mezil sighed. Even without a mirror, he knew that he looked absolutely haggard. “Father, could you meet them first? I need some time to make myself presentable.”
So while The Grandmaster welcomed the new arrivals, Mezil washed his face, combed his hair, and put on his clothes. Perhaps just the white base shirt would do. If he wore his full attire right now, he might collapse from his own body heat.
He pulled a chair to the center of the room and sat down, then let his father-in-law know that he’s ready to accept guests.
The Grandmaster guided Roger Eldin and Hajikami Hua into the temporary bedchambers.
“My god, Old Thymer, you look sicker than a dog caught in a shower.” Roger immediately poured a glass of cold water and offered it to Mezil. His instincts as a father started to show. “C’mon, you need to drink.”
“Not yet. Business first.” Mezil showed his hand to a nearby table. “Leave it there.”
“Alright, but don’t ya dare forget about it.”
Time to face Hajikami Hua. The musician -- dressed in his elaborate, ceremonial clothes -- glared down from where he stood.
Seconds of silence passed by, both sides waiting for each other to say the first word. Mezil decided to take the initiative. Knowing Hajikami, he wouldn’t have minded waiting there for a full hour.
“Hajikami Hua,” Mezil began. “If you had gone to my school, you would have finished the courses five times over.”
The musician huffed. “You’re the one with a demon in your belly and lied to everyone about his vanquishment. If you were less of a coward with your friends, they might have found a solution five times over.”
“That same demon might have been eliminated sooner if you had helped us craft the necessary tools instead of strumming your life away!”
“Nevertheless, it was my choice to make. My life is mine to strum as I please.”
Hushed concerns from Roger murmured in the background. They go along the lines of ‘Are those two blokes okay?’ and ‘why did they get their knickers in a twist?’. He presumed them as enemies. Not unusual, considering their scathing greetings. And he wouldn’t be wholly wrong either.
When they first met, Mezil had thought that becoming a musician was a waste of Hajikami’s true talents, while Hajikami was under the impression that Mezil would exploit him like any other human.
Now, just like back then, he had to leave it to The Grandmaster to diffuse the tension. “Worry not, good sir.” The ancient one said, “They do this ritual every meeting, for they know they’re both dreaming the impossible.”
Indeed, his father-in-law was ever on point. The accusations and gripes were serious at first, but as the years went by… the two of them came to realise the depths of their own ignorant foolishness.
Mezil lowered his head. “I have come to understand that for most of your life, you had no freedom. Your will was bound by duty. You toiled without enjoying the fruits of your labour.”
Hajikami softened his stance in return. “I have come to understand that your circle of trusted friends are willing but unable to help you. Most of them are not magically inclined. Plus, the cure may be more harmful than the disease.”
That was the reality of their situation. With that exchange of acknowledgment, the talks resumed in peace.
“Did you have a safe trip here, Hajikami?” Mezil asked.
Shaking his head, the musician replied: “No. We were ambushed on the highway. The rabble attempted to sow chaos with fire. Incendiaries, as you would call them.”
Mezil pinched the bridge of his nose. More stress piled on top of the other.
“…We’re running out of time. Lucidia warned me that The Claimed might already be succumbing to Persona’s influence. I’m losing my grip on the Keys of Fate.”
With all his strength, he dragged his chair to a nearby table. He had a notepad and a pen on standby there for anything that required writing.
“A strategy… We have to come up with a strategy to tackle the problem…”
The attempt ended up as useless squiggles. His fine motor control had faltered in the hazy heat of the fever. Slowly but surely he fell forehead first onto the notepad.
Good ol’ Roger jumped straight into action, propping him up. This time, the policeman focused on making sure the glass of water was completely consumed under his watch.
Hajikami pointed out: “Wouldn’t it be counterproductive to write down a strategy right before your nemesis? I know for certain that he has enough strength to spy on your every action from within his prison.”
“Mister fancy-clothes here has got a bloody point,” added the old veteran. “I know you’re our gambitting madlad, but you’re not the only person with half a brain. I’m sure we’ll figure out this hogwash. So take it easy and rest. Everything will be hunky-dory soon, alright?”
The Supreme Judge doth wanted to protest, except he couldn’t. The moment he was placed back in his bed, he fell fast asleep.
Mezil soon found himself in that inner quagmire of mud and blood. Filth stood as high as his knees. Dark thunder clouds loomed overhead, flashing with lightning.
Bright red rain began to fall. How unpleasant.
“Tsk. You continue to pester me.”
“Of course. It’s my obligation to bother you upon every opportunity. I still remember how you made me this muddy ocean to imprison me, and yet you are the one stuck down there. Meanwhile, I get to stay high up in the clouds where I belong.”
The vampire didn’t care. Crossing his hands, he accused: “Look, I know you’re after the SAVE of our final battle. It’s the only reason why you’re keeping me alive at all.”
“Baseless assumptions. What if I simply want to claim your body as my own?”
“I know for certain that my body is not suitable for your methods. You were not even a left-hander. Changing aliases wouldn’t work since I’m somewhat of a public figure. And above all, my heaven is your hell. This world would be unbearable for you.”
“So, the only way I would get my heaven is to undo all traces of your meddling. Is that what you think?”
With the straightest, sternest, most stoic face, Mezil replied: “Yes. Being creative is certainly not your strong point. In case you had forgotten, Sans Serif failed.”
Thunder and lightning clapped across the sky, laughing together with Persona.
“Hah! Now who’s the uncreative sod here? As wonderful as that particular timeline may be, the damage would have still been done. My wives remain dead, and Aiden still loses his window of opportunity.”
Mezil cringed, “You… you can’t be serious! Ugh, no. I should have expected that. You’re a complete moron as always.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, such dismissive behaviour. In my opinion, there’s no better time to return other than your ‘origin point’. What did that Wanderstar child call it again? ‘True RESET’?”
“That short Coloured One and the Machine of the Gods… talk about an inspiration! He showed me the possibility of completely hijacking the Keys of Fate. We’re intertwined, you and I. That means your ‘True RESET’ is now mine as well.”
“You should know that I will retain my memories.”
“Oh, will you, really? 25 years is a long, long time. How much do you actually remember? And even if you do, those memories would be useless. My presence shall completely change the course of time.”
“Ah… such brilliant potential. My many beloveds will live again, I will raise my children and grandchildren, and the Ocean Abomination will cease to exist. You’ve forgotten about that, haven’t you? For some reason, you refuse to undo that tragedy. Your reasons do not concern me, just know that the glory and honour of heroism shall rightfully be mine!”
“See you in The War of the Red Victory.”
Right there and then, Mezil woke up.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The phone’s screen stated that it was eleven in the morning. While the ancient Lich would have fought Persona with prayer, this musician kept the influence under control with soft and soothing tunes.
Hajikami paused his lute to look at Mezil. “How are you feeling?”
The Magus noticed that he could push himself off the bed this time. “Less tired, at least.”
“Did that demonic slag torment you?” asked Hajikami.
“Torment, no. Taunt, yes. So. Much. Trash talk.”
“Then my efforts were not in vain. Your wife procured this fine enchanted instrument for circumstances such as these. On my own, I don’t have the ability to focus my willpower in the form of sound.”
“Thank you for your efforts. Though, I wish you could rain fire and brimstone on that pest directly.”
The musician smirked. “Who doesn’t want to? He shares much in common with many historical human tyrants: a foolish, detestable figure in my eyes.”
“Did anything happen after I fell asleep?”
“The night itself passed without issues. The morning on the other hand, I’m quite amazed you slept through the whirlwind of mayhem.”
Slightly embarrassed, Mezil rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, Gaelic does think that I’m difficult to wake.”
“Would it help if I summarize the happenings of the morning? Accompanied by music, of course.”
“Yes, thank you very much.”
As the bard played his lute, the melodies reminded Mezil of a tavern from the times of old: where mystery sat with mystique next to the fireplace.
Thus the morning tales began: “At the break of dawn, Lady Lucidia and her Serpentine Knight offered sweet incense to The Almighty. I believe it was the first time in many years for her.”
“That’s… good.” Said Mezil. “Lucidia had always wondered if she was a bad example. I felt that she was comparing herself unfairly to The Grandmaster.”
He didn’t voice it out, but he knew that her relational complications with her birth family played a major factor in her insecurities. And there was the cruelty of gossip and slander: her public image tarnished due to her marriage with a controversial husband. Isolation breeds resentment, which made it difficult for Lucidia to keep the commandment to love others.
“What about the nameless girl? Did Gaelic actually get some sleep? I can’t have him crash from exhaustion for the coming days.”
“Your Serpentine Knight named the girl ‘Malaya’, and expressed intent to adopt her under his name. She continues to be a living vegetable, although her health did not decline. As for his own health, fret not. Arrangements have been made to allow at least a nap.”
“That’s a relief to hear.” Mezil asked, “Anything else?”
Hajikami continued, “The young Seer called Papyrus woke up from his trial. He immediately ran all over the place, bursting into tears of complicated joy. Mentioned something about remembering everything again. He also spun a little flower friend around in elation, much to the plant’s chagrin. The Grandmaster saw the outpouring of emotions as a sign of recovery. He stabilized considerably within the hour.”
The Magus breathed a huge sigh of relief. “At least one issue was resolved properly. That is indeed Papyrus in a nutshell. He’s like a prism, magnifying the light of hope. It’s in his nature.”
“But…” The keys shifted to a more sombre tone. “He was also very mournful for his brother’s dangerous condition. Sans Serif -- the False Seraph -- was besieged by nightmares and torment from a different world. Something to do with ‘The Eye of Dreams’, I was told.”
“That’s the hypothetical Red Aspect of the Seer’s Eye.” Explained Mezil, “It was a mere theory until Sans Serif entered The Void and crossed the boundaries of what it means to be a monster. I’m not sure to call it transcendence or damnation.”
“Hmm…” The bard pondered, “To cross death and yet live. Sounds like we share a similar affliction. When sleep drops our mind’s guard, fragments closest to our hearts seep into our consciousness. Despite his broken body, I must insist that Sans Serif is immensely fortunate that he’s still anchored to the physical realm. Imagine being adrift in The Void, without time or place as a guide.”
“I suppose that is true. Anyhow, Sans Serif’s overall condition greatly concerns me. It further confirms that his time is as limited as mine. Let’s hope he can hold out until then. Moving on, what about Aiden of Aratet?”
“The descendant of that detestable ‘Hero’ had his rituals prepared. As you can imagine, he and the good Commissioner don’t see eye to eye. Their main contention was the location to hold the ceremony. Where should it be? The Lab itself? The open fields? Somewhere deep under a mountain? Even a metal lightning-deterring cage was suggested.”
The question of location was also on Mezil’s mind last night. But, after that inner confrontation with Persona, he had made his decision. “…Please let them know it will take place in The Crimson Hall. Say ‘The Sacred Grounds’ if Aiden doesn’t understand. Their strategies should focus elsewhere. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“…I understand. So it shall be. Though I was hoping that I could observe the Champion of your recommendation in true combat.”
“You still have a chance to test his skills, if you so wish. Have you met with him yet?”
“Only from a respectful distance. I have yet to introduce myself. Sir Grillenn is a fine man in stature and strength, although his heart bears the wounds of betrayal. Having experienced similar disappointments, I can see many possible pitfalls.”
The tune gained an air of whimsical lightness. “Still, a much better candidate than I expected. Once I dreamt that I was bound in the body of a brash, boorish teenager: a petulant brat who wanted my power for his selfish ego. If you had presented to me such unworthiness, I would have set your clothes on fire.”
Mezil sighed. “Who do you think I am? Do you have so little trust in my sense of discernment? This is where you start to show your annoying pompous arrogance. Unreasonable! Here I thought being a bard would teach you some humility and social etiquette.”
“Hah! Never will I grovel at the feet of fleeting ears for a paltry sum of coin. If that is how humans dictate humility, then perish the thought. Those are false standards to puff up their hollow existence.”
The foreign man further added, “When you were a young entertainer, did you not also handle people with a similar flair? Those who stand tall against the mockery of the shallow are the ones who commands true fans.”
Mezil thought back on his simpler days of youth, when he worked behind a screen as a digital antagonist. He chose to act similarly to his actual self, not modifying his voice or behavior to fit the character.
“You have a point. Speaking of being a performer, have you seen a teenaged boy with tanned skin? Calm, but innocently curious of the world around him.”
Hajikami pondered for a moment. “I believe so. Aiden brought two sons, and one matches your description.”
“That’s Niton, the younger son. You two are in the same field. He is also a musician who specializes in olden instruments. I believe a positive interaction with the boy could distract Aiden and Roger for a while. It would at least allow them to calm down.”
The lute’s plucking sounded a spike of force, expressing the player’s irritation. “Me? Amuse a spawn of the misguided ‘Legendary Hero of the Sealing Wars’? Again with your tall orders, Magus.”
“Interact with Niton in person and you will find that he shares nothing in common with his ancestor. A person should be judged by their own merit, don’t you agree?”
“Hmmmm…” Not long after, the tune relaxed back to its usual serenity. “I shall entertain your request on one condition: freedom. To be precise, I wish to interact with a few other individuals who have caught my attention.”
“Hmph,” Mezil huffed. “I would have given you that same freedom anyway. Just be mindful of what gifts you present to Lucidia. You don’t want a repeat of that scuffle with Gaelic.”
“I still find it utterly bizarre that your knight is more jealous than you. It was never my intent to cause such a misunderstanding. In the grand scheme of things, sapphires are made of a common mineral. I just created one that best befitted her preference and theme.”
Now Mezil was the one who felt annoyed. “Hajikami Hua, I am merely wiser in my response to that situation. I would have duelled you right there and then if you truly wanted to flirt with my wife. Mark my words!”
The other party was greatly bemused by the response. “Charming. I dare say ‘adorable’. No wonder you managed to gain a fraction of respectable fame. Is there anything else you need of me?”
“There will be a major meeting at 5, after Frisk’s school hours. I need you to be there with your lute, and I believe it will be in your best interest to listen.” With that said, Mezil got out of bed. “Now excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Very well,” replied Hajikami, “See you then.”
He said not a single word more once the music stopped, leaving the room as though nothing of the discussion had ever happened.
Mezil got up and went to address his biological needs. He didn’t realise how much he needed to empty his bladder until he started walking. It must be because of Roger’s glass of water.
On his way back to his bedchambers, he caught himself swaying with a haze. The fabric of his clothes stick uncomfortably on his skin.
Ugh… That’s right. Neither Father or Hajikami are here to control the curse. I’ll have to hold out on my own for a while.
While dragging his feet, he made sure not to approach any members of monsterkind. His rampant aura of Corrupt Determination had grown far beyond their ability to withstand. At this rate, he’s not even sure if Lucidia’s shields were enough.
Back in his room, he took off his shirt and increased the fan speed. Then it’s back into bed again.
Several important documents were waiting for him on his phone. Alas, he could barely read them in his feverish haze.
The door opened. Then, The Grandmaster came in with a tray of food. He set it down on the table and asked, “Winston, how are you faring?”
Mezil replied: “Sick, restless, and terribly annoyed. I tried to read, but I couldn’t focus.”
“Come dear son, have some nourishment. All the goodness from the feast must have been burned up by now.”
The Grandmaster helped him to the table. The sweet scents of the morning’s incense still lingered on his robes.
Today’s first meal consisted of baguette slices, a bowl of chunky soup, and a glass of milk.
After stirring the soup once, Mezil scooped a helping to taste. “Roasted bone marrow, pumpkin, carrots, cinnamon, and thyme, my namesake? This takes quite some time to prepare. Did you make this?”
“No, Papyrus did. Dashed to the market and back as if it was right next door. Definitely an energetic fellow that one. He learned this recipe from Doctor Gaster and his parents. It appears to be their family’s remedy for the ailing and the recovering.”
“I see. Please give him my thanks. No, wait. Nevermind. You can’t leave my side for long.”
“Haha! I was about to point that out. It gladdens me to see that your mind is still sharp.”
The Grandmaster planted down his staff and began channeling his aura of Peaceful Determination. Immediately, Mezil felt a little cooler and stronger. Less hazy as well. Perhaps he could finally read without getting his eyes crossed.
Mezil decided to check the news first before moving on to the documents. A meal might be just what he needed to regain some constitution.
Let’s see if there’s anything new instead of the same old accusations day in, day out. I don’t need to read more slander that I have a trophy wife.
Phone on the table, he started scrolling through the news and tabloid feeds while eating his first meal of the day.
Hm? What’s this?
Headlines from different news sites filled the page.
Head Honcho of the Magus is the Former Harbinger?! Proof that Video Games are Toxic?!
Expert Analysis Suggests Attack On Ebott Town Is CGI.
Thyme The Entertainer Pulling Wool Over Our Eyes?
Magic: The Danger of Weaponized Emotions!
TMA Curriculum Real Or Make Believe? Fact Checkers Are On The Case.
Mezil knew for certain that the media could never resist the reveal of his past. Why should they? It had been a huge speculation for decades: a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode.
“Hmph,” he huffed. “They’re late. But it’s within expectations. Nothing can top off the sheer spectacle of a titan attack, after all.”
The statements caught The Grandmaster’s attention. “Well, well, well. In other timelines, gossips about you had spawned almost instantly. Quicker than mushrooms after the rain. Have you checked their contents yet?”
That was a good question. Headlines alone will never disclose the full story. “Not yet. I’ll do so now.”
The more he read, the narrower his eyes squinted. “This… is rather bizarre. I expected my stunt to detract attention away from the monsters, to buy us some time. Instead, the disclosure of my VR background made others think that I had staged the battle. This sentiment now extends towards all of monsterkind.”
“Please elaborate, Winston.”
“They think magic is utterly harmless. To quote: ‘It’s all an elaborate lightshow. Smokes and mirrors! We’ve been scammed! Terrorized! Time to put those monster freaks back in their place!’. Those who underestimate magic are teaming up with those who fear them. In the end, both extremes have the same goal: to assert human superiority.”
Shaking his head, The Grandmaster said, “It sounds like a great riot is inevitable, despite our efforts to prevent it. Six or no Six, they’re just looking for an excuse to burn the Dreemurr Nation down. What will you do, Winston?”
“As always, I will prepare for the worst. I’ve done my best to control the narrative.”
Mezil finished the last of his bread and soup, moving on to the glass of milk. “Father, may I make a confession?”
“What would it be, my son?”
He leaned back against the chair, legs crossed, drinking his glass of milk like a vampire lord would.
“I’m… somewhat relieved. The butterfly has flapped its wings, ready to sow chaos on a new course. This world will be forced to face the truth sooner or later. Reality won’t bend to perceptions anymore, no matter how hard people try. They’ll have to suffer the full consequence of their folly.”
The Grandmaster chuckled softly. “My, my. That’s certainly quite bold. Never a boring moment with you indeed.”