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The Life of Tim
Chapter 62: Leftovers Always Taste Better

Chapter 62: Leftovers Always Taste Better

Two slender sticks of chalk rasped against the wooden floor of a recently abandoned inn. Under the whispered instructions of the rat clinging to his shoulder Tim laboriously marked off arcane signs. Hundreds already lined the walls but still he wrote, each hand marking a different symbol simultaneously.

Outside the building and surrounding the area, squadrons of silent guards worked to cordon off the building with yellow string and signs stating that a criminal investigation was in progress. All in all, everything was as smooth as could be expected.

Finally, the signs were completed, and Tim stood with a sigh. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with his hands, leaving dusty streaks on his face.

“That’s our side ready to rumble. Philbert, what’s the word on group two? And are the heroes still in their places?” Tim asked the rat on his shoulder as he peered out of the window to observe the blockade of guardsman.

“They have finished, finished the preparations as well. As for the heroes, they are still as they were. Elena still does damage control on the remaining fires, while Adrian watches, watches the government offices.”

Tim nodded in approval at Philbert’s answer. It felt good, in a way, to be right after the disaster of the other day. If time would only allow for that trend to continue, it would be even better. Still, best not to get cocky, Tim reminded himself. That’s how Kevin died and Elena lost her arm. Much too cocky. He stared out at the surrounding buildings, at the shadows slowly enveloping them.

“Truly mesmerizing.” Tim sighed. “Sometimes I do forget how wonderous the tiny things in life can be.”

He shook his head as the sunlight grew weaker. It would not do to slack around just yet.

“Well, Philbert, how about we check on the little gifts we have set up downstairs? It would be a shame for Elena to feel unappreciated when she arrives.” Tim chuckled, smile widening as he saw a little ratty grin cross the bucktoothed face of his companion.

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Yes, little gift indeed. Leftovers were always better than the meal itself.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

On the other side of the city, on the second floor of a recently abandoned blacksmith’s shop, Mavier observed the setting sun through the half-drawn curtains. Outside the building, similar to Tim’s inn, several squadrons of guards worked like lethargic bees to cordon off the shop under the pretense of investigating a murder that happened inside. Well, Mavier chuckled to himself as he glanced at the motionless body of the shop owner, no one would be lying to say there is a murder here to investigate.

A clicking of shoes on the wooden floor drew Mavier’s attention as Santet respectfully stopped behind him.

“Dimitre’s finished, my lord. The satellite array symbols have been drawn out according to Tim’s instructions. Now all that is left is to follow through with the rest of the plan.” Santet reported with crisp tones. She was obviously eager for what the night would bring.

Mavier smiled. Eagerness was good. If Tim’s plan worked, their king would finally be avenged. He stared back towards the setting sun.

“Marvelous. I wonder, Santet, when we bring the news back to our brothers and sisters. Will they be able to enjoy the wonder of a sunset striking across our rebuilt cities once more?”

“Surely they will, my lord.” Santet bowed, unsuccessfully attempting to hide her unprofessional smile at that thought.

“Well,” Mavier rumbled, moving his neck back and forth to relieve the stiffness in his joints, “gather Dimitre and the rest of our warriors. Leave two of our brothers here to provide security. Nothing must interfere with Tim’s ritual. As for the rest, come with me. Although I never knew them well, the brothers that fell last night to Adrian were still very much that: brothers. Ones made through shedding blood together at that accursed Bastille and drinking wine to celebrate the victory that followed. As is tradition, I shall not let them lay in their graves unavenged.”

Mavier swiftly turned to his waiting warriors standing at the ready behind him.

“Tonight! Tonight, we kill the honorless dog Adrian! We kill the deceitful twofaced Elena! We avenge our King! Our people! We make them all pay, for the sins committed against us and our sisters! Our brothers in arms!” Mavier roared, holding the decapitated head of Kevin that he had saved from the battle over his own head for all to see.

“WE SHALL BREAK THEM TONIGHT! BY OUR ACTIONS LET THEM BE NOTHING BUT FLESH TO FEED THE RATS!”

With a frenzied roar, his gang of demons smashed down the doors and rushed past stone-faced guardsman, with Mavier leading the pack. They had a hero to hunt.