Chapter 119: Twenty Hours to Doomsday
Drawing upon all the restraint that Zach could will into himself—especially given the circumstances—he forced himself to take a slow, calming breath before allowing himself to speak. Even still, his words betrayed the frustration he was trying his best to tamp down on.
“Why do you belong to Kal and not me?” he asked of the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth named Ruby.
“Mommy Kalana fed me the stone,” Ruby said, licking her—no, its—lips. This, Zach could only barely see as the so-called “raptor” was still hiding behind Kalana and chirping away any time Zach tried to maneuver himself so that he could take a good look at it. There was something he needed to verify, and he was growing impatient.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Kalana said, her tone defensive. “I’m sorry I stole your card and your item. It was an accident.”
Though her words were apologetic, her behavior wasn't. From the way she was giving constant pets and hugs to the stupid thing, it was clear Kalana was far from devastated that this had happened. Seeing her happy also made it difficult for Zach to stay mad, because at the end of the day, her happiness was as important to him as his own.
“I won’t be able to get another of those cards for like a hundred or thousand or however-many years,” Zach said. Then, with a grunt, he added, “Not that I want the opportunity any time soon. I hope I never see that Gods-be-damned dragon ever again.”
“Me neither,” Ruby said. “He was so pushy.”
Zach cocked his eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “You remember Ziragoth?”
Ruby chirped. “Huh? Why wouldn’t I?”
To Kalana, Zach said, “I need to see its eyes. Why won’t it stop hiding behind you?”
“It’s ‘cause you said you were gonna stab her, you dork.”
“Kal, just let me see it.”
“Only if you promise not to be mean or try to hurt her.”
He sighed. “I won’t. Just please let me see the damn thing. I need to make sure of something.”
“I’m not a thing,” Ruby grumbled, her two sharp, black-toenailed feet tapping down on the gravel as she stepped out from behind Kalana and took a few cautious steps towards Zach.
He met her lizard-like, golden-colored eyes and fixed her with a hard, discerning stare, and then he swore under his breath. Right away, he could tell. All it took was a single glance and he could see: she was sentient. Gods damn it all. Without a shadow of a doubt, Ruby was a self-aware, feeling, thinking being of a sort similar to Angelica or Grundor, only she was more like Fluffles in her intellectual capacity and mannerisms. Zach had no idea how this whole thing worked, but it appeared humanoids were different from animals—or a raptor, in this case, though he still had no idea what in the hell that actually was, as he’d never heard the word before today.
With noon approaching and the sun burning down on them, several beads of sweat caused both by frustration and the heat more generally led him to wipe his face with his robe as he tried to consider how to proceed. With his hands and feet still emitting an impossibly black smoke, and with his time remaining on Unleashed Phase down to 14:32, he knew that he couldn’t afford to waste too much more time standing around on this gravel-covered road figuring out this whole “Ruby” situation. Especially because he likely had all the answers he was going to get.
Clearly, the drop he’d gotten was similar—but different—from the thing Fluffles had eaten that had turned him into a Shadowfang. And just like Kesten, Maric, and Mr. Oren, Zach had not known what his particular gem was intended to do before it’d accidentally been used, transforming the card into a…a what, exactly? Certainly not a Shadowfang, as NPCs were not, strictly speaking, biological in the sense that Fluffles was. But something not all that far removed, for sure.
Wiping away more sweat, he asked, “If I had been the one to feed you the ruby, would you have belonged to me and not Kalana?” Ruby chirped in a way that came across as affirmative, which prompted Zach to ask the only other thing his curiosity demanded he know right this instant. “And how much do you remember? From before you ate that ruby and became…well, ‘Ruby’?”
Ruby looked at Kalana, who nodded at her. Zach wasn’t sure what that was about. Then she said, “I remember fighting you. You turned me into a card, and…and then I was on your team for a while. We did so many things together and we fought the dragon together, and then we fought the humans, and then we came here.”
She does remember everything, he thought, an uncomfortable, existential chill traveling down his back.
“How did you feel when I made you fight Ziragoth? Or turned you into a card?”
Ruby blinked several times. “I didn’t feel anything,” she said. “I didn’t know what that was until a few minutes ago. I like thinking and feeling! It’s fun. I can smell, too.” She licked her lips. “And taste!”
“So you didn’t think or feel anything until just now?”
“I don’t think so. I just remember everything, but I don’t think I knew anything. But now I do!” She chirped happily.
Zach wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to that, but in a strange sort of way, it caused him to feel relief, because even though what Ruby was implying meant that all mobs and NPCs probably had the capacity to be “alive,” her words confirmed to him that, up until someone made them so, they were still soulless and unfeeling. Though Zach would never claim to be a philosopher or hold any of the answers to the key questions of the universe, he was comfortable enough in his own beliefs to not feel any guilt at killing things that did not have any sense of self-awareness, the ability to feel, or the ability to think or know pain. In his view, something that had absolutely no concept of its own existence could not be considered the same as something that did. Though all of this did lead him to ask one very uncomfortable question of himself.
What if I fed that to Moldark? What would he become?
With a shrug and another, even more uneasy chill, he said, “All right. What happened, happened. Let’s just finish the quest. Oh, and Kal, you owe me for stealing my card and my item.”
“Oh, really?” she asked, frowning. “Didn’t I just give you that super-duper rare ring that you said was awesome? And didn’t my mom give you our greatest family treasure? And what about that time, umm, that woman in Angelica’s was hurt, and somebody needed to buy the stones for her, and I—”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.”
Zach knew there was no way he could argue with Kalana here, as her defense was airtight. It didn’t make Zach any less grumpy about the fact he’d won an 18%-chance gamble and still somehow ended up losing two valuable things in the process. Nevertheless, the truth was that Kal was right. She hadn’t done this on purpose, and he could hardly claim she owed him anything. If anything, he owed a whole lot to her.
Turning his body so that he faced in the direction of the miniature city, he once more proceeded onwards, his mount, Kalana, and Ruby following along. If nothing else, at least Kalana was happy.
******
Pete was trying to be a good boy because that’s what daddy said he had to do. But it wasn’t fair, because nobody was letting him buy any toys, and Uncle Vardor wasn’t letting him go outside to play or do anything at all.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Daddy said it was only supposed to be a few days. How come I’m still here?
Pete was a big boy now. He was six and that meant he was supposed to be brave, because the other kids he knew said that, um, when you were sleeping over at someone else’s house, if you got sad and then wanted to go home, it meant you were still little. That was why he tried so hard not to cry. His dad was actually the leader of the whole guild, and not only that, but he was the leader of this city, too.
Stepping on the stool, he looked out of the window in the room he was in. He wanted to go look around the city of Tomb of Fire. There were so many people and his dad said they’d go to the toy shops—all of them—and even the ones in Diamond Paradise when he came back. Right now, though, he wasn’t being allowed to leave the room. They even locked the door. He didn’t know why they did that.
“Uncle Vardor,” he whined, becoming sad even though he tried so hard not to. “You promised I could go outside today. How come my dad’s not back yet? I don’t wanna be in here anymore because it’s boring and all…um, all my toys are still in Shadowfall Coast.”
When no one answered, Pete walked along the soft, maroon-colored carpet and stood up on his tippy toes so he could try to turn the knob. It was still locked. “Uncle Vardor?” he called.
Uncle Vardor wasn’t his real uncle, but he was his dad’s guild friend and his dad told him to call the man that. But he didn’t act like an uncle. He wasn’t being all that nice to Pete like he usually was. Placing his ear to the wooden door, he could hear what sounded like footsteps coming from the kitchen across the hall, as well as a voice that sounded really upset. It was Uncle Vardor’s voice.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Uncle Vardor said. Pete didn’t know who he was talking to, but he said a really bad word. “He’s six years old, Sir Morrison. He doesn’t know anything. He’s a clean slate. There’s no reason for this.”
There was a pause, and then he sounded even more upset than he did before. “How can you possibly say this is best for humanity? Gods damn it all. I’ve known him since he was a baby. What’s that? No. I said no. That’s definitely not something you should do. Well, obviously because I—what? No. No, what I’m—just listen, please. Obviously, I don’t want to, but I’d rather it be me than someone who’s going to make him suffer. I can make him close his eyes peacefully. That’s what you’d prefer too, right? If it has to be someone, it might as well be me. At least that way I can make sure he doesn’t—yeah. All right. Fine.”
There was a beep, which sounded like the way a phone ends a call. And then there was a loud, angry smash that startled Pete. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Uncle Vardor put his fist through one of the cabinets in the kitchen.
“He’s only six,” he said loudly, pain in his voice. Pete was also only six. Was he talking about Pete?
A few minutes went by, and Pete, losing interest in whatever was going on, went back to play with the few toys he had in here. Yet as soon as he sat down, there was yet another bang, and this one was way louder and sounded like it came from the floor below. This bang was followed by a scream. Then Pete inhaled and ran to the corner of the room as what sounded like guns started going off along with even more screaming.
“She cut my fucking dick off!” someone wailed at the top of their lungs from the floor below. “She cut my—ahhh stooooop!”
The scream reached such an intensity that Pete began to shake, fearful. Then he heard steps: powerful steps. Then there was a loud smashing sound that sounded like it came from outside Pete’s room, which was soon followed by even more screaming and more gunshots.
“You!” Uncle Vardor shouted. “You have some nerve coming in—”
His words ended in a gurgle and a tearing sound. Pete was so confused. He didn’t understand what was happening. Now, he became very, very afraid, as for a moment, all went quiet—all except the slow, steady tapping of boots against the wooden flooring in the hallway outside of his room. Then there was a click as the doorknob of the locked door was turned, followed by another loud bang as the door was then thrown completely off its hinges.
“Pete?” a womanly voice said.
Pete ran under the bed, hiding. He was very afraid. He wanted to be a big boy, but he was so scared. The footsteps continued, and now whoever was in here with him was standing in the center of the room—and coming closer. A moment later, with a creak, the entire bed was lifted off of him, and a hand reached down towards him.
“It’s okay,” a very pretty lady with golden hair, pointy ears, and green eyes said. “I’m a friend of your father’s, child.”
“You know my daddy?” he asked.
She smiled. She had a very nice, comforting smile. But there was lots of blood all over her body. Was that even blood? Maybe it was ketchup. He hoped it was ketchup. He didn’t like blood or bloody things. Nervously, he took her hand, and she gently pulled him out from under the bed before releasing it and letting it drop back down.
“Wait a minute,” Pete said. “I think I’ve seen you before, um, on the TV. Aren’t you”—he gasped—“you’re Kalana’s mommy!”
“You know of my daughter?”
He nodded. “Yeah! Everybody knows Princess Kalana.”
“Would you like to meet her?”
“Oh yeah! I can? I need to ask my dad. Do you know where he is?”
“I do,” she whispered. He wasn’t sure why she sounded sad. Did his dad upset her?
“Where is he?”
“That’s something for us to discuss later.”
“I want to see him!”
“You will.”
“He said he’d be back by now.” Pete sniffled. “He told me he would come back and then he didn’t. I want to see him.”
For some reason, she reached out and hugged him. She was very nice but he didn’t know her so well so he wasn’t sure why. “Have you ever ridden on a unicorn, child?”
“Huh? No.”
“Would you like to?”
“They’re not real.”
“But they are.”
With that, he found himself being picked up like mommy used to do before she died, and then suddenly, he was moving very fast. There was a loud crack of shattering glass, and before he realized what was even happening, he was suddenly hit with a blast of heat. Only then did he realize that Kalana’s mommy just jumped out of a window with him. But he wasn’t scared. Because he also wasn’t falling.
“Whoah!” he said, looking around. “I’m on a unicorn!”
“That’s right,” Kalana’s mommy said. “Hold on to me tight, okay? We’re going on an adventure.”
“Okay!”
******
“Fucking Elves!” Major Kenth Baxtra shouted.
Sir Alistair Morrison scowled. “Tell me she didn’t.”
“She did. She invaded Tomb of Fire, killed eleven of our men—castrating several of them—and then kidnapped the royal heir and took off to the skies in a Gods-cursed unicorn."
Sir Morrison squeezed his hands into fists, but only for a moment. Immediately after, he removed his cell phone and dialed the number of his chief diplomat. “I want you to hand-deliver something for me.”
“Yes, of course, Sir Morrison. What are your orders?”
“Inform the Elvish of my official declaration of war on Whispery Woods.”
“Understood.”
The moment he ended his call, Major Baxtra gave him a sidelong glance. “We are already fighting a war against the rest of humanity. Are you sure we should add the Elvish to our list of enemies?”
He met the major’s eyes. “Once we have the proper justification—and believe me, we’ll have it very, very soon—we will launch our weapon, and all of our enemies will surrender.”
“If we’re going to go that route anyway, Sir Morrison, then why does it even matter that we have some purported moral high ground? Wouldn’t it make sense to simply launch the thing now and put an end to this before even more of our people die?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You see, I am going to succeed where the other guilds failed. I will bring humanity back into the fold in the global trading community. And to do this, I need the perfect balance of threat and reason. If we are seen as too animalistic, they will resist us even if it means possible nuclear retribution. But if we show them that we are a people of order, they will be more willing to negotiate. That is why it’s important we declare war on our enemies before we launch, not after. If we wait to declare war on the Elvish, it will seem like any negotiation with us is just an obvious farce, and that we are simply threatening them with our weapon.”
“But isn’t that exactly what we’re doing?”
Alistair nodded. “Yes, but I prefer it to remain an unstated threat. Imagine, for a second, that we use our weapon, and then we declare war on the Elvish. It will send a signal to the world that our declaration of war itself is a threat: capitulate or die.”
“How so?” Major Baxtra asked.
“Very simply. It will invite the question of why we waited until after we unveiled our weapon. If the justification is the attack on Tomb of Fire, the world will want to know why we did not declare war right after it happened if we are so aggrieved. It will make it seem like the declaration is disingenuous and that we are merely using the threat of our weapon to force cooperation. And if so, we can’t rule out the Lizardmen and the Dwarves invading North Bastia. Let me remind you, Major Baxtra: we don’t actually have more than one missile yet. If we are attacked, we won’t be able to back up our bluff.”
The major threw up his hands. “This is all too political and confusing for me. I know war, and I know that if the Elves decide to attack us, they can take out Tomb of Fire and Shadowfall Coast all on their own without any level-1 ground troops. They will stomp on us like insects.”
“No, they won’t. They most certainly won't."
“How can you be so sure?”
Lowering his voice, Alistair said, “Because tonight, I’m ordering the blockade to ease.”
“W-what? Why?”
“So that the enemy will break through, and our city will be overrun.”
“Why?” he snapped. Then he widened his eyes and began to apologize as if realizing how massively he’d just breached protocol in speaking to Sir Morrison with such a tone. Yet, Alistair chose to ignore this slight, as it was exactly the reaction he’d expected.
Slowly, he inhaled, then again regarded the major general. “The reason, Major Baxtra, is so that very early tomorrow morning, around twenty hours from now, we can use the justification of self-preservation, and with that, we can launch our weapon, and the world will open its eyes to the power of humanity. Then, we will announce that we have made dozens—or hundreds—more of these weapons, and I promise you, the invasion will stop.”
“What if the other guilds call our bluff, sir?”
He grinned. “When they see what this weapon can do, Major Baxtra, I assure you, they will not dare.”