“…“
“……”
"Master!"
"..."
"Masteeer!"
"..."
"MASTEEER!", the voice was shrill, insistent.
"..."
The hat, annoyed at the lack of replies, flicked its tongue out, slapping it against its wearer's face with a wet, unexpected smack.
"I said, MAASTEEER!", it screamed yet again.
“Ah! What? Who!?”
"You, master. You!", the item’s voice was growing louder, clearly impatient.
Celsius sighed, dragging his hand over his face, trying to make sense of the interruption. The edges of his mind were still frayed. The thoughts that had been so clear moments ago had slipped through his bony fingers like sand.
He stared at his hand, holding it up in the dim light. The bones, the ancient, weathered knuckles... He wondered, not for the first time, what they’d seen, what they’d done. What had it all meant?
“MASTAAAAH!” the hat screamed again, clearly panicked this time.
“Huh? When!? Where?” The skeleton replied, trying to force the awkward atmosphere into a comedic one, something he clearly… failed.
“Now master… Here and now…” it’s voice clearly demoralized. “ You were lost in thought again…”
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The skeleton placed the hand back in a pocket of his cloak, allowing the momentary silence to clear the nightly path ahead of him. The ally perched atop the skeleton took notice of this event, sensing the tension created by its remark, which is why it quickly shifted the conversation with an arrogant tone, as if it was pouting.
“I said, you’ve been thinking naughty, naughty thoughts, weren’t you? The Sin of Lust, righte?”
Celsius stopped in his path, analyzing the words. He would’ve blinked in confusion, but skeletons have empty sockets with no eyelids. Still! The absurdity of the situation broke through the fog of his dark mood.
“Gyohohoho! Somber, my leathery friend, of course not” The wizard laughed, a huge smile of pristine teeth painted across his face, clearly enjoying this moment.
Somber, his ever-trusty companion—a living witch hat whose very existence was a riddle. Perhaps it was a curse, or maybe a blessing; Celsius himself hadn’t quite decided. What he did know was that Somber was undeniably useful.
The item had a peculiar feature: a seemingly bottomless stomach concealed within its cavernous, tooth-filled mouth. This "stomach" served as an invaluable storage space, capable of holding everything from ancient tomes to enchanted trinkets. If it could be carried, Somber could swallow it whole and regurgitate it on command—something they rarely use…
But that wasn’t all. At the very tip of the hat, an additional enchantment shimmered: a single, oversized, comically expressive eye. This enchanted eye was far more than a mere decoration. It could see vast distances with uncanny clarity and detail—a practical gift, albeit one paired with far too much personality.
The tone of their conversation turned serious again, yet not as weighty as before.
“Do you regret it? Killing her, I mean. Do you feel sorry for her? for… she was weak?” the hat asked with worry.
Celsius froze. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The sudden shift in tone caught him off guard. But he gave a nonchalant shrug, his skeletal face twisting into a new grin.
“Regret? Nope! Amigo, it was her fault for… being born weak.” His voice was low, almost a growl, carrying an edge sharp enough to cut the air. The words lingered, dark and heavy, disturbing the tenuous balance of their conversation. Celsius, sensing the shift, tried to mend it with a chuckle, forced and awkward.
“Hah, heh, hee!”
The hat remained silent for a moment, slightly tilting its eye right and left. The skeleton continued in its stead, waving his bony hand dismissively.
“Oh, come on, pal! Her death was decided already, y’know? We’ve got to collect the”—"the deadly sins and corrupted virtues, in order to gain favors from the Goddess! Did I win?" Somber interrupted, its voice was dry, as if it had recited this same line a thousand times.
“Gyohohoh! You always win, buddy!”