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I wish I could have laughed. Perhaps it was the increasing lack of oxygen to my brain. You’d think being choked to death would be enough to stay my cynical sense of humor, but I found the disparity between my imagined post-high school life and where I now found myself as a recent college graduate hilariously at odds.
But you know, I bet almost everyone feels that way when they enter the workforce as a full-fledged adult. Especially when the publishing company you start working for fails to provide the proper training and tools to ensure a safe and comfortable working environment. In fact, I think they’ve ignored almost every OSHA standard. But I digress.
Shifting focus to my current predicament, the ethereal twilight around us turned to midnight as I lost my peripheral vision. The icy hand of encroaching death had already numbed the lower parts of my body, but my head and neck still burned with a sharp, searing pain.
Demon King Olethros, The Dark Serpent, Second of Evil, was living up to his title in earnest, acting like a giant number two. Oh, my best friend Nora would have loved that snarky insight, but alas, she had been separated from me by Olethros during our earlier epic confrontation.
I was suspended in midair by his death grip, surrounded by the numerous nightmarish tendrils he commanded from the emblazoned magic circle on the marble floor. The runes of unholy might that formed his power source flared anew as he called upon them, dispersing some of the darkness that had begun to claim me. My sword, the Will of Euphridia, had fallen somewhere into the abyss below, and there was no way I could reach it now.
“I warned you not to come here! I told you to stay away!” he shouted directly into my face as his hand twisted, forcing me to gaze into his evil emerald eyes as inky black animus leaked from their sides. He was right, of course. But that didn’t justify killing me, did it? I’ve already died six times, maybe, but just because I’ve always done it this way doesn’t mean I had to do it the same way again.
“You’ve already lost this fight. Tell me what you know about the Goddess’s plans, and I’ll make it quick!”
I’d have liked to make a quip about how exactly he expected me to respond while he was crushing my windpipe.
I spluttered something unintelligible, unable to manage my oral secretions. He relaxed his sharp claws around my throat only slightly, allowing a gasp of air. As the dark haze around us thickened, my thoughts became increasingly morose. Maybe he was right. Perhaps I was only prolonging my suffering by continuing to breathe. I had naively believed that if I could just have a crucial conversation with him, we could come to a mutual understanding. I mean, I get it. Conflicts at work are inevitable, but they don’t have to escalate beyond the point of reason. Oh, sweet sarcasm, my faithful companion! Thank you for helping me maintain my sanity through my last moments.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“You’re doing this all wrong,” Raelana’s voice echoed in my mind. “You know you are well past the point of de-escalation.” Clearly, she, a lingering remnant of a past hero, didn’t fully comprehend what I was preparing for.
I know my plan failed. I should just give–
“No. Improvise. Plans are subject to change .”
And just what am I–
“Allow me.”
My lips parted as Raelana used my voice to shout scornfully: “Your father would have been oh so proud of what you’ve become, Phorutos!”
Phorutos? That wasn’t any name for him that I knew of. But it clearly struck a chord with him.
Olethros’s face contorted in abject horror and fury. With a bellow, he flung me towards the ground in a fit of unbridled rage. The cold, blood-slick floor welcomed me as lost kin with a hard and muffled thump. The tendrils bound to my hands and legs pulled and retracted back into the magic circle, barring me from standing back up.
You just made him even angrier! What exactly did you call him?!
Raelana Demonslayer let out a spiritual snort of satisfaction. “His true name means things that mingle in the wind… or more contextually, ‘trash.’ You will thank me later. Watch.”
“I am nothing like he ever was!” he shrieked, his voice tinged with madness. “How dare you call me that! I will make you suffer for–” His tirade cut off abruptly as a cloud of darkness erupted from his body, plunging him into irrational animus overload. His form began to writhe and convulse behind smoky shadows even as he charged mindlessly towards me. But now that I could breathe properly, away from his influence, I could concentrate on the essential things, like focusing my will to break free from the now weakened shadowy bindings that held me in place.
“Choose. How will you end this? With your sword, or…”
The sword, shimmering in the darkness, seemed the safest bet. It was forged by the Goddess Euphridia herself for just this sort of occasion. I didn’t have much strength left, either. But I knew he wasn’t acting like his authentic self, and I would eventually regret not taking a chance for a better resolution. If I wanted to make things right and get the ‘good ending,’ I would need his help. Either way, I resolved to hold him accountable for his detestable behavior later.
I… want to try something different this time.
“Very well. I will continue to help you for as long as I am able.”
…
What? Another voice? … Which one are you now?
…
I see, so… you want to know how I got here in the first place? Well… okay, but I’m a bit busy right now, and it’ll take a little while to explain. When I have time, we can start by talking about back when I was in high school. All sorts of absurd stories begin there…
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