Prologue

It’s easy, even tempting, to think of the universe as obeying the laws of mathematics. This is, in part, because it appears to follow the laws of physics, and there’s no way mathematicians were going to let physicists get away with being right all the time without having a say of their own. Everything can be, eventually, calculated. Although there appear to be more letters involved than numbers, mathematicians will swear high and low that this is normal, and that the universe runs as it should. 

In such a universe, if parallel realities existed, it would not be inconceivable that these exist due to minute divergences in probability, quantum fluctuations of particles so small they barely ever get chosen for soccer practice, and choices made by human beings, leading to an infinite string of realities, all slightly different from each other, stretching in every conceivable temporal and existential direction.

This would, of course, be wrong. In actuality, reality is a mess. If, at some point, the archeologists of reality went through it with brushes and fine-tooth combs, they would find that the whole thing chooses to obey some laws sometimes and others at other times. That, while alternate realities most definitely appear to exist, they do not line up in a neat and orderly line like mathematicians would like you to believe. In reality, they tend to hang around, meandering this way and that, popping in and out of existence for no real reason other than that they seem to enjoy doing so. And sometimes, two universes will sort of… click. These are often not related, have very few interactions, and just hang out near each other until one or the other goes *pop*. The universe, it seems, is cold, empty, and likes to keep a close circle of friends. 

But every once in a while, two universes hanging out will have things in them. If these things can walk, talk and invent multi-level marketing, things get very messy, very fast. Especially if one of universes is significantly stranger than the other. 

Imagine such a pairing. Two universes, gently vibing across the vast garbage heap of possibilities that is all of reality. These two worlds have been hanging out for some time, and, much like a married couple or a single alone-but-not-lonely person and their pitbull, they’ve begun to look alike. Certainly, both of them have two-legged creatures that have taught themselves to pee standing up and sitting down, but more significantly, both worlds tick by the same clock. There’s a little overlap, and like anyone who has tried to sit down on a chair already occupied by a cat, you know that overlap can cause problems and possibly minor-to-severe lacerations. Sometimes, things bleed over. Sometimes, a tick in one world will be followed up by a tock in the other. 

They’re not in sync, but like two people trying to sing “Happy Birthday,” they occasionally -- and entirely accidentally -- harmonize. It’s little things, of course. They are, on the surface, very different. One of these two worlds has dragons, knights, heroes and villains, magic and actual proof of the existence of souls. The other one has stand-up comedians, and is undoubtedly the stranger one of the two. 

But you know that one already. For now, we’ll focus on the other one. The one that has impractically large swords, improbably spacious backpacks and unrealistically advanced sensibilities surrounding hygiene and footwear. The one with dragons in it.

Tick

Chapter 1: The Mountain of the Demon Queen

The mountain was perilous. That wasn’t particularly noteworthy; mountains have a tendency to be perilous, depending on how you approach them, even though this one was particularly perilous. It had a perilousness that was very deliberately manufactured. That didn’t mean the people currently trying to go up it were going to stop, of course. They weren’t those kinds of people. Only that they were going slowly, finding footing on snowy paths and climbing icy walls. Occasionally, one of them, a little shorter, would curse, or lose their footing. The other would chide them or rescue them, respectively, easily catching them with a single hand, before they resumed their climb. 

They had been climbing for two days, and the storm hadn’t let up at all, and if this had been a more leisurely, extreme-sports kind of life-risking scenario, even the most extreme of sports enthusiasts would have parachuted home already. Sadly for the two climbers, this wasn’t that kind of climb, nor did they have access to parachutes. This one was important, more important than mild frostbite or the risk of death-by-lack-of-parachute.

Neither of them spoke as they continued to climb, until, upon reaching a sort-of-horizontal ledge, the shorter one made a grunting noise that could possibly be interpreted as ‘I am getting tired’ or maybe ‘Hey, I can’t really tell through this blizzard, but I think it’s starting to get late and we should consider finding shelter.’ But for the most part, it sounded like they said ‘ghnk’. The taller figure looked up the mountain and the hood of their cloak -- because it’s simply bad form to climb a dangerous mountain without a hooded cloak -- was thrown back by the gale. He had a cloth wrapped around the lower part of his face, and his bright blue eyes tried to pierce the blizzard to no effect. He ran a hand through his hair and then pulled the hood back up, before it (or his hair) snapped off in the cold, and grunted. 

It didn’t take them very long to find some kind of outcropping. Just like the cloaks and the snow, the small cave, hiding them from the cold and the wind, was almost traditional. There was always one, when you needed it. You just had to know where to look. And he knew where to look. He’d done this before. Well, not this exactly, but he’d found that, in life-or-death situations, things had a tendency of working out if you really believed in yourself, paid close attention. He had also figured out that it was still a lot easier if you had a sharp sword and a lot of coin, but those were details. He was, after all, a Hero. His companion blew on some sticks that had blown into the little outcropping some time ago, and it didn’t take them very long to catch fire.

“You’ll have to teach me that trick some time,” he said with a smirk as he unwrapped the scarf dramatically. The woman threw her own hood back and warmed her hands by the slowly expanding fire. It wasn’t much, but it was some warmth. He sat a little closer to the fire, hoping to get some feeling back in his fingers. She smiled back. 

“Then what would you need me for?” They shared a look that had Meaning in it. Many times, travelling companions will, of course, share moments of quiet contemplation. This contemplation can range from ‘I wonder what this person tastes like’ to ‘I wonder what this person tastes like’, on two opposite sides of the spectrum. But even then, there is a special category reserved for Meaningful Looks. Meaningful Looks exist on their own, and are universal across all dimensions. Meaningful Looks span a wide range of emotions and whether that is ‘Don’t pick a fight with your uncle during Thanksgiving dinner again’ or ‘If you don’t cover your mouth the next time you cough, there -will- be violence’ or even ‘I know we used to date, but what you just said kind of crossed a line and I just want you to be aware that I’m aware that you just did that.’ It was that kind of Meaningful Look. “I didn’t mean --” the woman said, lowering her head.

“I know,” the man replied, and blew on his fingers. The cave was silent except for the obtrusive sound of snowy winds outside and the soft crackling of the fire. “We should get some rest. We’ll want our strength tomorrow.” The girl nodded and pulled her cloak a little tighter. He hoped they’d both at least be thawed out before morning. The fire wouldn’t go out, he knew, but mountain caves have a habit of being badly insulated. At least there wouldn’t be any lions, tigers and/or bears to contend with. 

“Do you think we’ll… you know…” the girl mumbled, her sentence petering out as she stared into the fire. He could see doubts dancing in her eyes, alongside the bright flames. He also wasn’t going to make any assumptions about what she was going to say. Assumptions had carried him far, but had also carried him right back, with only some emotional bruises to show for it. She looked at him and saw he wasn’t going to be finishing her sentence for him. “...make it,” she added.

“Of course. We should reach the top of the mountain tomorrow,” he said, turning his eyes away from her.

“I meant --”

“I know what you meant,” he sighed ominously. “Sorry. I just... “ He leaned back against the wall of the cave and immediately pretended like he hadn’t just bumped his head against a particularly pointy piece of rock. He was going to have to act like his hissed breath had to do with his own growing trepidation. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t really scared of the next day. Sure, the climb would be arduous and hard, and the castle would be foreboding and scary, and She would be tough, but he’d be alright. He always was. “I’ll… It’ll be fine,” he said. He didn’t like the idea of lying to her, but he also didn’t want to tell her that his companions had a tendency to die, often in very unpleasant ways, at the end of a journey like this. In his defense, he had tried to leave her behind the first day, but she’d been remarkably persistent. That had been months ago. He ran a hand over his face. He was tired. Very tired. There was the whole two-day-mountain-climb thing, but it was more than just that. If -- When he reached the top and saved the world, that would make four. 

Four times he’d saved the world. Like, all of it. Even the ugly bits. There were a lot of ugly bits, because as soon as you get taxes and some basic capitalism in a universe, you’ll quickly have ugly bits. Throw some monarchies in there and you’ll find yourself in a universe that has issues looking in the mirror in the morning. A universe only a creator could love. And, despite seven separate religions claiming otherwise, this one didn’t have any, and the Hero could feel it. He wasn’t destined to save the world. The world was just kind of really bad at staying in one piece, often in dire need of saving and he was the best man for the job. Not that he was happy about it. Sure, there were perks and a lot of coin, but his shoulder told him when it was about to rain and he couldn’t turn his head all the way left anymore. 

“Get some rest,” he said. He looked at the woman again and sighed. They had a history, because of course they did. He was the kind of person who had Histories with people, and most, if not all, of those ended up in narratively satisfying but ultimately physically unpleasant places. There had been a lot of dying and a lot of crying and parting of ways. He remembered some old friends when he looked at her, and wished he didn’t. They had all had a similar look on their faces the night before, and it had always ended the same way. Narratively satisfying. There was probably going to be a heroic sacrifice of some kind. He kept his emotions off of his face. She’d be remembered. He could promise her that much, at least, if not out loud. 

The wind was howling outside, and under normal circumstances, it would have been too loud to allow either of them to fall asleep. These weren’t normal circumstances. He was too tired to be bothered by cold or noise, and before long, he was asleep, wrapped in his cloak in front of the fire. If he had stayed awake, he would have seen the apologetic look on the woman’s face before she, too, fell asleep. The fire didn’t go out, as the Hero had predicted, but the next day wasn’t going to go nearly as well as he thought it was going to go. For one thing, while he most definitely was going to save the world, he was also going to end up very, very dead. 

Further up the mountain, Evil went to sleep. Well, an Evil. So the Hero had been told, anyway. Things got tricky when it came to Evil. ‘Capital E’ Evil, the Hero knew, was different from evil, in the sense that it was more focused, more powerful, but also required a lot more effort. Little evils happen all over the universe, insidious little acts -- or a lack thereof -- that make the lives of others marginally worse. Things like unscrewing salt shakers, not putting your hand in front of your mouth, or taking the last of a product you don’t really need. There’s also medium evils, where you participate in a system that is actively making the world a worse place to live in. It’s snitching on a victimless crime or shoving someone out of your way, yelling at someone who has done nothing wrong and is in no position to respond, like retail workers. 

But Evil, with a capital E, is different. It gets up in the morning and decides to do something that is objectively immoral, and can not be justified, no matter how hard someone might try. That kind of Evil commits atrocities and goes for ice cream after. It burns down your house and has a bag of marshmallows already at hand. It smiles in your face, offers you a glass of water and compliments your haircut while it repossesses your house. Capital E Evil was currently flossing, because she was about to go to bed. She’d been doing some work terrorizing, there had been some wailing and gnashing of teeth, and, all things considered, it had been a productively Evil day. 

She looked forward to tomorrow. She was going to take a day off, have a lie down, maybe a nice meal, a walk around the castle, maybe play a bit of dress-up, count her money, all of that. Well, she wanted to do that. She wasn’t actually going to do any of that. She was actually going to die, quite suddenly and violently. 

The next day was going to be very eventful for everyone involved, and that wasn’t even going to be the worst of it. Because, across the gulf of reality, a lot of things were about to very coincidentally and very awkwardly come together to make everyone’s lives a lot more complicated. Because even the uncaring void likes to have a little giggle every now and again, and random chance sometimes really likes to go for that one-in-a-million chance (as a joke), this world, on which both the Hero and Evil were about to die, was about 

to

                                       go

Tick

Elamimax

Hello! This is a (mostly) new story, and I hope you all like it! I've been working hard to get the tone for this one right, and it's now in a place where I'm pretty happy with it. 

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