Far on the other side of the battlefield, the massive body of the tarrasque lay limp and unmoving. Not dead, as the one who shot it expected, but not far from it either. It let out a low moan of agony, its eyes great dull spheres devoid of light. Only the faintest flicker of life resided deep in its body, and it could feel it. What little primitive thought remained longed to see its master. Just one last time. One more moment of comfort before it faded.
“I’m here.” The tarrasque knew that voice. It knew that voice from when it had just barely hatched, and all through its early years. It couldn’t see Master. But it knew Master was there. “I’m here, Belus. You were brought down quickly, weren’t you?”
The beast crooned quietly as it felt Master’s touch. Master was so tiny compared to it now, but that quiet power still felt like home. It let out a quiet sigh and knew its hot breath would be ruffling Master’s hair. Finally, it was at peace. Nothing else mattered, now that it had seen its oldest friend once more. Quietly, it slipped away. As the light faded, its last thought was of Master. Kind, sweet, Master Magnus.
Magnus gave the scaly flesh one more comforting pat. Belus had done his part well. It wrenched at his heart to see his greatest servant fall, and at the hand of that wretched interloper, no less. But it was a necessary death if he was to succeed. It was needed if the Menorans were to let their guard down. To them, Kan-Menora was dead. Their decades-long war was finally at an end. He’d have to release his spell, to convince them. They wouldn’t be convinced that Kan-Menora was dead unless the Monster Winds went away.
He let out a long, low sigh, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Over fifty years of keeping the spell running, all to achieve his goal. In seconds, he’d ended it. The planet rejoiced as it felt the suppressing dark cloud fade, and he heard the distant roar of triumph from the Menoran Army. Again, he sighed. What he wouldn’t give to go out there now, and lay waste to them all. They’d nearly foiled his plans. It would have all been for naught if he hadn’t come up with his disguise.
Magnus, he thought, laughing to himself. A hastily created name, for a hastily created disguise. But it had been effective. As soon as Jel-Menora had summoned those pesky humans, he’d seen his own demise approaching. He had to join the humans, posing as an ally, as one of their own. They advanced quickly, to be sure. Mere months after their arrival, they were ready to take Kan-Menora down. But when they’d found his lair and Belus inside it, he’d taken care of them with ease.
Even then, he’d known he wasn’t clear. The humans were still there. So he’d sought to suppress them. He’d moved into that filthy city and ruled by fear. Nobody could make progress in completing the quest. He’d stopped any and all forays into the Misty Mountains to retrieve the last key and waited. Waited patiently for the one who would foil his plans again. It was inevitable, after all. Tyrants were always opposed. Eventually, some righteous and pure-hearted individual would rise to take him down.
Kan-Menora clutched his fists angrily as the thought of that day came to him. No virtuous opposer had come. No, it was another killer. Like him. He had no compassion in his heart. He’d just had an obstacle. The fellow human known as Magnus was standing in the way of him achieving his goal. He’d killed Magnus, foiling him for a second time. Then a third, when Magnus had tried to reclaim Zenken and resume his old ways.
“But now it is over for the humans,” Kan-Menora said softly, staring up at Belus’ corpse. “The Menorans are convinced that I am dead. They thought you were me. Exactly as I’d hoped. I shall be hunted no more, and the humans will return to their home.”
He ripped his disguise off with one quick movement, feeling his body shift and change. Gone was the unsightly pale skin. His own jade-green skin was all he could see now, and the long, elaborate robes that he’d clothed himself with. Finally, he could regain his true form. Kan-Menora, the King of Monsters. The Betrayer. And he would have his revenge for the death of Belus. Once the humans were gone, he’d topple the great Menoran cities. That would expose Jel-Menora. Then he’d kill the fake, and take proper control.
Not quite the way you expected it, is it?
He gave a start of surprise as he heard that voice. He hadn’t heard that voice in quite a while. He let out a low hiss. “Athena.”
You think you have him fooled, Kan-Menora. It is your last great mistake.
“But you’re dead!” Kan-Menora thundered. “I killed you in your nest for betraying me!”
You struck down my family. My cubs. But you did not kill me. And now, I am the instrument of your destruction.
In spite of the shock of hearing his old partner’s voice, Kan-Menora laughed. “That puny human? He is no threat. Even if he’s not fooled, he’s no threat. I could crush him with one-”
His words were cut off by a scream of agony as something ripped through him. He’d felt this before. The touch of a bullet fired from so far away that he couldn’t see it. It tore through his stomach, opening a massive hole there. Blood coursed down across his immaculate robes, and he fell to his hands and knees. How? How had his disguise failed? He’d spent years planning it. He lifted his head, glaring up at the hill. Now, more than ever, he knew it was over. He rather fancied he could see his killer, across the vast distance, crouched low with the rifle trained on him, an instant away from ending it all. Then, with the sound of distant thunder, he felt nothing.
-
Jerik let out a long breath, staring through his scope at the jade-green figure as it collapsed, never to move again. He’d been shocked as he watched Magnus transform into that tall Menoran, and know, deep inside himself, that he’d been tricked. That all of Menora had been tricked. He’d instructed Nick to fix Paragon as quickly as he could before his prey could escape.
“Now it’s over,” he said, lowering the rifle. “Now he’s dead.”
Stunned silence greeted this pronouncement, and when he turned to survey the Menoran elders behind him. He let Paragon drop to the ground, as he was finally done with it. He was done with this world. “You’re welcome. I’ll take my reward, now.”
-
It took him some time to amass a million points, but it wasn’t difficult. Apart from him, beyond his own concern, humans were already being sent home. There was no grand ceremony, no audience with the great Jel-Menora. He refused to be a part of their spectacle. It suited them as well, he knew. They’d summoned the humans, a blood-thirsty race, to end a bloody war. So he’d ended it in a particularly bloody fashion. He’d fulfilled his end of the deal, and now he was going to get his reward.
Only Jel-Kenna, Sel-Kenna, and Jel-Menora were with him now. The rest were either being banished back to Earth in the case of the humans, wandering home in the case of the monsters, or cleaning up, in the case of the Menorans. He stared at Jel-Menora now. It was only the second time that they’d met, but he remembered the man’s appearance well. Tall. Regal. Blue. He was clad in ornate white robes with golden trim, and he carried a long, thin metallic staff in his right hand.
“You’ve done a great service for our world, Jerik Barr,” he said gravely. “You’ve ended a long and brutal war that has plagued our people and our world for many years.”
“Yep,” Jerik said, crossing his arms. “I’ve done as you asked. No give me what I want, and send me home.”
“Do you not understand what you’ve accomplished?” Jel-Kenna stepped forward, her face astonished. “Do you not know what this means for our people?”
“Of course I do,” he retorted. He stared at each of them in turn. “I’ve fought a war for you and won. Now you’ll reap the rewards of my hard work. Nothing different from what I did on Earth. Well, this time I get something out of it, I suppose. I get a wish, correct?”
There was a long pause as the three Menorans absorbed his words. Finally, Jel-Menora said, “Yes. Of course. You have more than earned it. I suppose I just expected more…”
“More emotion?”Jerik suggested. “Or perhaps more honor? That I’d say it was a pleasure killing on your behalf? Well, you’re shit out of luck. I was sent here against my will.”
“You begrudge us for summoning you?”
“Not at all,” he said. “In fact, this has been an excellent vacation. I enjoyed the new world. But you gave me an agenda, one that I didn’t agree to. I want to keep my choice.”
“Your wish is to be free?” Jel-Menora said, nodding thoughtfully. “It is an admirable goal.”
“Not so,” he said. “I wish to come and go as I please. I like the idea of working, but it will be my choice from now on.”
Another long pause. Behind him, the battlefield was empty now. He was the last human on Menora. “That is within your power, I suppose. Isn’t it?”
“It is.” Jel-Menora let out a long sigh. “Despite your lack of decorum, I cannot deny that we owe you. Very well. I shall grant your wish, Jerik Barr.”
He tapped his staff into the hard earth, and a wave of energy washed over Jerik. He gave a slight shiver as he felt the unknown magic enter his body. Then, a second later, he felt more… connected. Connected to this world, and to Earth. But there was more. Much more. He could go anywhere. He could go home, but really, that wasn’t what he wanted. There were more worlds to see, to explore. More to experience.
“Well,” he said, letting out a long sigh. “That’s a relief. No offense, but I think part of me expected this all to be for naught.”
Now that seemed to irritate them, he thought. Not that he cared. “Alright then. Nobody left from my friend group to talk to, so I think I’ll take my leave now. Sorry if it’s abrupt.”
He felt out in his mind for one of those new connections. There was something interesting about that one. It felt like magic. Not his usual preference, but it felt more… complex than anything he’d seen on Menora. A good enough destination, he thought. He was just wondering how he was supposed to go there when his vision faded completely. In the blink of an eye, he was there.
When he opened his eyes and stood upright, he was surrounded by people. All kinds of people. Humans, elves, even what he swore was an orc passing him by. It felt like a generic fantasy setting, but he was in a major city. It wasn’t so far different from Menora, he thought. Plenty to get into here.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing the arm of a random passing human. “This is going to sound odd, but could you tell me where I am?”
The man stared at him in faint surprise, looking him up and down. “You get randomly teleported here or sommat?”
“Something like that,” Jerik said, smiling. “So, Where am I?”
“This is Milagre,” the man said, yanking his arm out of Jerik’s grip. “No clue where you’re from, dressed like you are, but welcome to the Market District.”
Jerik let the man leave and put his hands on his hips. New world. Milagre. Definitely worth looking around some more. He took a step in a random direction, content to explore for now. He’d find out what he needed to know soon enough. For now, he was hungry.
