Chapter 4: All The Time In The World
In the evening, amidst the dirtbag district, the prince walks the path leading towards the wall, accompanied by Jon, Fangs, and Emit, the three of them arguing something amongst themselves, a distance away from the prince.
After a moment, the three once again join the prince. He watches them attentively.
"Alright, Mark," says Jon, "we have decided that each of us will give you a distinctive training pattern, to make sure you master every magic there is, as well and as soon as possible, and more importantly... Master your self, your inner potential."
"That is fair." says the prince.
"I will start us off, then." says Jon, before he is interrupted by Emit stopping in his place and calling out to them, after he realizes something.
"Wait, wait, bollocks!" says Emit. "I forgot to tell my wife that I am setting off again, I am truly sorry, your highness, I will be back in a jiffy."
Emit hurriedly walks off.
"Alright, where will it be?" says the prince, as he turns to look at Jon.
"Right here, right now." says Jon.
"Right here?" says the prince, confused, then thinking for a moment. "Ah, yes, I understand... I must learn to connect with the people before I can learn to connect with myself!"
"Not really what I was going for." says Jon. He steps forward, in the middle of the road, and whistles loudly, so loud that every one of the tired and working men and women in the area that had been going about on their business stops to look at him.
"Attention please!" calls Jon, removing the helmet off the prince's head and tossing it away, the prince is startled. "Whoever manages to smack Prince Markus on the head by any means necessary... Shall get ten thousand bronze coins!"
Every single human being in a half-mile radius instantly turns to the prince, dropping whatever it is they are doing, mouths almost drooling.
"Why didn't you just say a gold coin?" whispers Fangs.
"Show, my friend," says Jon, "gotta bring the boys to the yard."
"What the hell?!" cries the prince.
"Man up, will you? It's time for some real training against some real people." says Jon, turning to the folk and calling once again. "Remember, any means necessary! There will be no consequences if you murder the prince!"
"I'm pretty sure there are consequences for murdering the bloody heir of Nexonin!" cries the prince, slightly panicked.
"I'll leave you to it." says Jon, taking a distance and watching the show. The folks start to take out their vastly diverse weapons, from pitchforks to knives to swords to torches. One large man pulls out a young tree from the ground, Wilhelm-screaming at the prince.
"Where did they get all those weapons?!" cries the prince. "Is this even legal?!"
"I'm just gonna go find something to eat, man, I'm starvin'." says Fangs, walking away, waving Markus goodbye. "Good luck, man."
"F.. Fine then!" says the prince, finally buying into it, as he chants and creates a long bat made of ice from his right hand. "If it's a battle you want, then a battle you'll get!"
Suddenly, all hell breaks loose. Everyone starts running at the prince, all at once.
The prince quickly bashes the first man straight across the face while he is dashing at him and knocks him out, he jumps to dodge the second, smack the third, and let the second casually bump into the fourth while they both fall, then he grabs the fifth and throws him into the pile consisted of the second and the fourth.
Everyone is waving their weapons at the prince. He starts to dodge and bash, dropping many of the folks unconscious. He starts to become exhausted. He quickly chants and forms another ice shield surrounding him from the knees up, blocking the blows around himself, while roundhouse kicking a group of folks and dropping them to their knees.
"Is this your idea of a distinctive training pattern?!" cries the prince, still struggling to keep his composure.
"Why, yes," says Jon, for the third time mocking his accent, smirking, "as a matter of fact I do believe it is."
"Is this because of the thing from earlier?" cries the prince.
"You mean when you tried to kill me?" says Jon. "I don't even remember that happened!"
The prince continues to defend himself, as Jon spectates the battle, slightly laughing, until there is no man left standing. Markus stops to rest, exhausted, taking his breath.
"Any..." he starts to say, still tired, almost breathless. He wipes the sweat off his face and gives an exhausted blow. "... Anybody else want to take a swing at the king?"
"I will, your highness." calls a familiar voice from afar. Everyone turns to the voice, it is Tiab, the tusk-headed man. He comes down from his horse and approaches the prince, with his whip in his hand, straightened, ready for battle.
"Tiab Drolkrad, of Northern Stratfort," says Tiab, respectfully, "humble captain at your service."
Jon watches Tiab, the rage returns to his face and his heart once again after he remembers what he'd done earlier. He grunts.
"Let's see if you can fight men as well as you fight women." says Jon.
The prince struggles to prepare himself, still a bit tired. He stands upright and stretches his back and limbs, cracking his neck.
"Ready when you are, sir." says Tiab, patiently, toying with his whip.
"Hey, Markus," Jon whispers to him, "try to rough him up if you can, he's an asshole."
Markus hesitantly turns to Jon for a second and then turns back to Tiab, taking his battle stance.
"I'm ready." says the prince, staring at Tiab carefully, trying to study his posture and read his movement. Tiab stares at the prince, preparing to make a move.
He raises his whip, preparing to run at the prince, but before he could, we hear a loud THUMP as he is knocked unconscious from behind him.
"What the hell?" exclaims Jon, both him and the prince are shocked.
Tiab drops to the ground, as we see that the man responsible, standing right behind him, is in a very strange white cloak, looking to have an almost identical texture to a lab coat, but as a cloak completely covering his face and body, a "lab cloak", He wields no weapon, but he wears thick gloves that look to be somewhat metallic.
"And who might you be?" says the prince.
"I'm just a traveller..." says the man, with a strangely modern American accent, with no medieval tint of any sort. "A time traveller, if you will."
They stare at him, puzzled. The traveller stands still, he glances back at them, although we couldn't quite know that since we can't see his eyes or any of his other facial features. He stands still, cracking his knuckles.
"Time traveller? What? ... What can we call you?" says the prince.
"Call me whatever you want." says the traveller. "It all won't matter in the end, names are just names we were born with, titles are what we achieve."
"Alright, mister 'whatever you want'," says Jon, "What do you want?"
"The ten thousand bronzies, that's what you're offering, right?" says the traveller. "That, and the opportunity to fight a possibly worthy opponent."
"Bring it on, mate!" cries the prince, unsheathing his blade. He tries to study his posture and movement, he can't seem to get much from what he sees. He starts clearing his throat, preparing to chant at any moment.
The traveller brings his hands together, white sparks rotate around his hands as he starts to shoot loud shards of lightning towards the prince.
The prince, taken by surprise and shock, jumps to the side to dodge the shards.
"What the.." says the prince. "He didn't even chant!"
"What kind of magic is this?" says Jon, equally as confused, but impressed.
In a mere second, the traveller holds his hands together once more and disappears. The prince looks around himself, scared and cautious. He raises his blade and starts waving it around himself.
"Where'd he go?!" cries the prince.
Suddenly, the traveller appears to his left and taps him on the side. The prince is startled, he quickly turns around and swings his blade at him, but again, he disappears.
"Stop acting like a coward and stand before me!" cries the prince.
"I don't recall there being any rules against teleporting!" says the traveller, appearing on his right side. Another swing, and another poof. The prince is becoming very frustrated, he starts to pant.
"Fuck!" cries Jon, excited and entertained, barely able to stay still in his place. "This is getting good!"
The traveller appears behind Markus once more and smacks him on the head, softly and harmlessly, but it causes him to drop to the floor due to how tired and dizzy he had become from all the twisting and turning.
"Good fight." says the traveller, raising his cloak from the dirt, then putting his hands together once more. "You did pretty good, Prince Markus."
"Bloody hell..." says the prince, surrendering, "I guess I owe you that prize now, don't I?"
"Eh, whatever." says the traveller, "I don't need money, anyways. I just wanted to get to know you better."
"W... What?" says the prince, puzzled.
"Cya!" calls the traveller, disappearing once more in a spark of white light. The prince takes a moment on the ground, trying to process what just happened.
".. What the hell was that?!" says the prince.
"Looks like you just got bested." says Jon.
"No I haven't," says the prince, angry, struggling to get up, "he cheated!"
"There is no 'cheating' in the real world, Mark." Says Jon. "Only survival."
Fangs returns, eating a large sandwich.
"What did I miss?" He says, mouth full, chewing.
----
It is almost nighttime, heavily windy, Jon, Fangs, Emit, and Markus are walking uphill, in the middle of the woods directly bordering the city to the west. They are in the middle of a conversation.
"... So you're telling me this guy was just..." says Fangs, "time travelling? He time travelled you guys?"
"He was not time travelling!" cries the prince, pissed. "He was... Teleporting!"
"He was neither time travelling nor teleporting," says Jon, "because neither of those skills are possible, you can't time travel, and you can't teleport, he was just... fast."
"What about when he used his magic without chanting?!" cries the prince.
"That could have been anything." says Jon, thinking. "Maybe someone else was hiding in the bushes, doing the magic for him."
"Maybe he was a conjure." says Fangs.
"Or maybe you guys are just pulling my leg!" cries Emit, laughing. "Come on guys! Seriously, what happened?"
"I'm telling you, that is exactly what happened!" cries the prince, "I was attacked by a... whatever the hell that was!"
"He beat Markus, and he refused to take his coin." says Jon
"Yeah, well he bloody cheated." mutters the prince, still pissed.
A moment of silence as they continue to walk uphill. They are approaching some hills, very grassy and blissful, butterflies littering the place. Calm, quiet, and soothing.
"What do you guys think about time travel?" says Fangs, trying to start another conversation, but also curious.
"Absolutely hate it," says the Prince, "it is stupid and it makes no sense at all, like, can you tell me how you would visit an event that had already happened or hadn't happened yet? ... It's just a load of stupid, blasphemous bullcrap."
"It is an interesting concept," says Emit, "in a theoretical manner, there is a lot of space to explore and spread your uh, spread your legs, you know, lot of possibilities... but in a plot-related sense, when it comes to fiction, I think it almost always ruins whatever story it is a part of."
"I disagree." says Jon, "11/22/63, great book. The time machine, even better."
"Back to the Future." says Fangs.
"A classic." says Jon. "All great stories, but you know.. they're all stories."
"So, any of you plan on telling me where we are going?" says the prince.
"It is time for my training session, sir." says Emit. "I'm taking you to where my master used to take me, the place where time and space meet, and where they meet, is where you find peace, and yourself."
"Oh boy, I can already smell the cheese." says Jon.
----
The four men sit atop a very high hill, the entire forest could almost be seen from this distance, the large saturated clouds and the large trees and grasslands. If one were to pay attention, he could see the calm ocean near the horizon, right after a small, quiet village to the north.
They sit in a meditative position, eyes closed, breathing gently, for a while, in a deafening silence, broken only by the occasional gust of wind.
"Do I have to do this for long?" whispers the prince.
"Maybe, maybe not," says Emit, quietly and calmly, "depends on when it comes to you."
"When what comes to me?" says the prince.
"You have to feel the life essence around you, the birds, the butterflies, the flowers, the wind, even the tiny grains of pollen floating about..." says Emit. "Only when you learn to connect with life, can you use its power for healing."
They stay still for another moment, silent. The prince starts to lose his patience and looks back at Emit.
"Is there any indicator that-" The prince starts to say-
"No, just sit still." interrupts Emit. "You'll feel it, probably."
Another moment of silence and stillness. Emit starts to delve into his thoughts and imagination and unconsciously starts singing a calm tune. A small, radiating aura of peace and healing could be felt radiating from his body. Once more, however, the prince loses his patience.
"But when do I-"
"Alright, you just sit there," says Emit, getting frustrated, "I'm going to sit over there for a bit. Fangs, you take care of the prince for me, will ya?"
Fangs does not respond, eyes closed. He is probably asleep. Emit gets up and heads towards the nearest tree, wiping his clothes from the grass and the leaves, then looking back towards Jon.
"Join me, will you, Jon?" calls Emit.
"Sure." says Jon, getting up and following him. As soon as he catches up, Emit turns to Jon.
"Anything on my back?" says Emit. Jon looks at his back and starts wiping the dirt and leaves stuck to his clothes.
"Better." says Jon. They continue walking and they both sit down under the tree, watching the forest. Jon is enjoying the sight, the trees all so tiny from up here, the few deer in sight, and the colorful butterflies, the faint chirping and the subtle trees rustling in the far distance.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" says Emit, smitten with the view.
"I tend to forget how much I kind of like this world." says Jon.
"Yeah, same thing, mate." says Emit. "It's a beautiful world, we're just not beautiful people."
"We've ruined it, haven't we?" says Jon, watching the distance.
"We did, and we'd do it again if we had the chance." says Emit. "But we're doing all we can to fix it, again and again and again... Until either the evil dies, or we do."
"I just..." Jon says, getting angry, "I just keep remembering that ass-faced bastard and what he did to Mary... My beautiful, perfect Mary... And my friends from the village... and my leg, like it was nothing. It's all that's on my mind."
"We will get back at him, don't worry." says Emit. "Now, tell me, what was he like?"
"The Dark Lord?" says Jon, thinking, "... He was an ugly son of a bitch, all I can remember."
"Anything special about that ugly son of a bitch?" says Emit.
"He was... Uh..." Says Jon, thinking hard, trying to visualize the dark lord in his mind. "He had an ass face- a donkey's snout- pale skin, red eyes... He looked like a very strange freak of a human being until he turned to a... Whatever it was that he turned into, with all the... the vines and the thorns and the... all that."
"Any weaknesses you might have caught on to?" says Emit.
"I don't think so, no." says Jon. "We tried everything, he was just too strong..."
Emit nods, disappointed. Jon sits around, distracting himself by playing with the grass and pondering, he thinks for a while longer and has a sudden revelation, he looks up.
"Come to think of it..." says Jon. "The wolves, I think."
"Wolves?" asks Emit, curiously leaning forward.
"Fangs conjured a bunch of wolves to sneak me out," says Jon, "they knocked the dark lord over his ass... Maybe that's his weakness?"
Emit ponders for a moment, before the prince calls at them.
"Uh, guys?" he calls.
They turn to look at him and see a large wasp the size of a man's palm standing on his nose.
"I think I'm feeling something." says the prince. "Is this the life's essence?"
Emit gets up and approaches the prince. The wasp flies away.
"Alright, open your eyes." says Emit.
The prince opens his eyes as Emit goes to sit next to him, holding a dying flower in front of him.
"This flower is dying, Markus." says Emit
"Oh shit." says the prince.
"Only you can save it." says Emit. "You have felt the world, you have felt the wind from beneath the hill, and you have felt the life... Now feel this flower, it calls for you... You are this flower's final hope to live, to bloom once more."
"Just put it in a flower pot or something." says Jon.
"Don't concentrate," says Emit, "Concentration is not of the essence of life, you have to drift across the pool of your mana, let the gods carry you on this journey within your soul... Look at this flower, and let the life essence enter it... Sing, Markus. Give it some high notes like the ones I've written down for you earlier, I'll compliment you on the lower notes."
The prince looks at the flower in a calm state, with a calm mind. Emit starts to sing, very softly, not on a confined tune, but sort of in an improvised manner. Markus struggles to keep up without knowing where he's going, but it takes a few minutes until he starts to let go and follow Emit's tune. Slowly, he starts to see the flower glow green, it starts to rise. Emit stops singing and leaves him to it, he is impressed.
"Yes, that's how you do it!" says Emit, in a more lively tone. "Keep going... Keep going, Markus... listen, picture this flower is a dying lady... It has a husband and three kids, one of which is an infant and would die if it doesn't feed on its mother's breasts, she must live, she must be healed and brought back to life, she must-"
Fangs awakens all of a sudden with a rough sneeze that tears the flower and rips away half of it. They both stare at the remains of the flower in shock.
"W-Wha?" says Fangs, still trying to wake up, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, Did he do it yet?"
----
Back in the vast training field of the castle, the group stands, waiting for Fangs to finish humming and casting his large, complex spell. Large clusters of orange mana are rotating around his body and occasionally circling the field, plotting their pathways and destinations. Fangs stands, closing his palms. This may be the most complex spell we have seen thus far, so complex in fact that Fangs is sweating profusely, his fur becoming soaking wet. Yes, it is as disgusting as it sounds.
Markus watches the scene. A spark of orange mana flies in front of Markus and circles him, he follows it with his eyes, puzzled, then turns to Jon and Emit as the spark disappears.
"So... What are we waiting for, again?" says Markus.
"He's preparing a really big conjuration," says Jon, "Like, huge."
"Oh." says Markus, slightly nervous. "How big can his conjurations get, again?"
"Not sure," says Jon, smirking, "but I'm pretty sure his weakest spell knocked the dark lord down."
"On his ass." adds Emit, building up on the story.
"Okay." says Markus, he is more nervous now. He unsheathes his blade, slightly warming up his arms and legs and setting his posture straight, preparing for the battle. Jon and Emit wait patiently, it seems that Jon is starting to lose his patience as Fangs starts getting more and more artistic and creative with his humming.
"My man here really thinks he's fucking Mozart." says Jon.
Fangs stops humming, opening his eyes and looking back at them.
"You guys done dissing?" he says, stopping.
"Are you done doing whatever you're doing?" says Jon.
"Get ready, man," says Fangs, "this could be a big pain in the ass."
Fangs releases his palms, the mana starts to circle the entire fields; the ground, the sky, the trees...
"Hit me, I can take it!" cries Markus, looking around himself.
"You guys might wanna keep a distance." says Fangs, backing away from the field.
Jon and Emit head to the other side of the field, taking a seat by a bench near the trees to watch the magic unfold.
The mana starts turning into various figures surrounding the field, various goblins and orcs around the prince, a jungle troll, couple mana golems, and up in the sky a group of gargoyles, bats, and a manticore.
Oh god, I have to describe all of those now, don't I? Fuck.
Goblins, just your average goblins but with orange glowing eyes. Tiny, wicked creatures with long noses, each wielding a dagger, some with swords.
Orcs, very much like goblins but larger and dumber, two large but utterly useless fangs, wielding clubs.
Trolls are generally creatures that look a little bit like orcs, but more intelligible, slightly smaller, and with supernatural healing abilities. However, those are forest trolls, jungle trolls are simpler and weaker, especially in terms of magic, and a bit darker in color. This troll wears a flint chestplate and helmet and wields a longsword.
The golems are basically the same we have seen Markus fight earlier, maybe a bit smaller and without the crystals. Large, boulder-like creatures with strong arms and legs.
Now let's take to the sky, gargoyles are a bit like goblins, maybe more resembling little demons, with rock-hard skin and small wings, wicked little things.
A manticore is like a, well, lion... scorpion... dragon... thing, I don't know I never really understood these things, it's like some guy decided to bump some coke and just scribbled down whatever he started seeing on a page, and bats are just bats, nothing much to them.
Markus starts looking around, with an expression of shock, almost amazement, but mostly he is just... overwhelmed.
"Holy shit!" cries Markus, raising his sword and setting his helmet straight on his head.
"Ready when you are." says Fangs, turning away, but then changing his mind and turning back, raising his finger at him. "Actually... screw that."
He releases a large surge of mana, causing the monsters to all start attacking the prince at once. He is taken by surprise, and quickly starts swinging his sword around.
"Uh, any chance you can knock this down a peg?" says Markus.
"Nah." says Fangs.
The goblins, being the nearest to the prince, start running towards him, attempting to stab him. They seem to be the easiest of the bunch, as the prince doesn't take much effort swinging at them and killing them.
-
Jon and Emit are seated, watching the battle unfold, enjoying it.
"How long do you think he'd last?" says Jon.
"Would be a miracle if he gets past the gargoyles." says Emit.
King Harry Wyvern appears out of the blue, standing behind them, watching the battle, wearing his eyepatch on his left eye. They look back at him, almost startled.
"Your majesty." says Emit, slightly bowing.
"Oh hey, man." Says Jon, before noticing something strange with him. "... Is it just me or did you just switch sides? With the uh... The eyepatch?"
"You're seeing things, Jon." says Emit.
"He was wearing it on his right eye last time, I remember it clearly!"
"You're seeing things, Johnny." says Emit, watching the battle.
"Oh dear." gasps the king, watching the battle, overwhelmed by the great number of summons on the field. "Should I ask?"
"He'll be fine." says Jon.
"Are the summons safe-proofed?" says the king.
"Yeah, yeah sure." says Jon.
-
Markus finally defeats the goblins, just in time for the gargoyles to start lunging at him from the sky, whilst the orcs circle him.
"Shit." the prince mutters under his breath, raising his sword and preparing to fight, again.
-
The king is worried and in a state of deep thought as he watches the battle unfold.
"My son is not ready for this." says the king, slightly shaking his head.
"It's just a few summons, don't worry." says Jon.
"No, you idiot, not this!" cries the king, waving his hands, frustrated. "This! All of this... mumbo jumbo with the... Dark Lord and all that!"
"Well, your majesty, if it is fate itself that had chosen him..." says Jon, "then I'm pretty sure he's going to be fine."
"You do not understand, Jon." says the king, pained, as he starts to recollect his memories and remember the past. "The Dark Lord... I have always tried to turn a blind eye to him ever since... It happened."
"What happened?" says Jon. "Was it your wife, the queen?"
"No, it wasn't the queen, she had nothing to do with this." says the king.
"Your majesty, might I ask," interrupts Emit, "how did the queen come to pass away?"
"That is..." says the king, nervously, "that is not important, and completely unrelated to the matter. Listen, I will tell you a story... The story of three great, brave, manly knights who were sought over by every woman in the realm, their names were Harry, Larry, and Gary."
"You're gonna tell us the story of your life now, right?" says Jon.
"Yes, shut up." says the king.
-
Markus struggles with the gargoyles and the orcs. After getting sick of it, he starts chanting, raising his left hand to form a large magical icy barrier above his head, causing every gargoyle that tries to cross it to freeze, dropping to the ground and shattering to pieces.
He stabs the orcs, cleverly maneuvering their attacks and aiming directly for their heads, as each stab causes an orc to pop into a poof of orange mana.
The golems have already started charging at the prince, but he was ready. He steps aside and grabs the closest one by the arm, then he starts spinning him around in a circle and tosses him at the other golem as they both shatter into little rocks and perish.
-
Fangs sits, chilling, eating some nuts while enjoying the show.
Suddenly, a figure appears behind him, out of literal fucking thin air, it is the cloaked time traveller from earlier, watching with him.
"Damn." he says quietly. Fangs is startled.
"The shit?" says Fangs, looking back at him, then almost instantly losing interest. "Oh, you're that... Guy..."
"I am." says the traveller.
"From that... thing" says Fangs.
"Yeah," -says the traveller, redirecting his attention to the fight- "Oh this is pretty cool... he's pretty cool, y'know?"
"Yeah, he's aight." says Fangs. "So, is that what you're doin' from now on? Poppin' in, just doin' a bit of commentary, maybe some snarky remarks every now and then?"
"Eh, kinda, yeah." says the traveller, moving closer to stand behind Fangs, taking some nuts from his hand. Fangs looks back at him, annoyed. "Dude, you should be careful with this one... the Dark Lord, sheesh, I hear he's a tough cookie."
"Well, Prince Markus is a hard nut." says Fangs. "And besides, there's a prophecy about him, The High Prophecy."
"Yeah yeah, I'm just telling you to be careful, is all." says the traveller. "You never know what might happen on a particularly rainy day."
"Oh, alright," says Fang, laughing slightly, "so, foreshadowing as well, huh? You're coming from the future to drop in the occasional 'lookie, I know everything, I play with your fate' and all that?"
"I'm from the past, technically." says the traveller, turning his head slightly to the side and smiling playfully. "And yup, that's pretty much what I'm here to do."
-
Markus finally manages to defeat all the orcs and gargoyles, but there is just no time to rest yet, as the troll stands, several feet across him, raising his sword.
Markus looks above, noticing the horde of bats standing idle, waiting, and behind them the manticore, soaring the sky in preparation. He looks back at the troll, preparing.
"Come on, show me what you got, troll-face." says Markus, tauntingly.
The troll dashes towards him, their swords collide roughly. The prince struggles to keep his stance with him, surprised.
"Blimey, you got moves!" cries the prince.
They start to duel, the troll does a nearly perfect job dodging his blows, and so does Markus. After a few good blows, Markus manages to chop the troll's right arm clean. The troll looks at its arm, still holding his sword.
"So, you want to keep going?" says Markus, smiling, victoriously. "Just a flesh wound?"
Quickly, the troll grows another arm, watching the prince angrily, as he bends to grab his sword from his older arm.
"Of course you did..." sighs the prince.
-
"We were an adventurous bunch." says the king. "Nothing could stop us, we defeated the fiercest of beasts, and the strongest of creatures, even machines of old! ... We did all there is to be done... Until he showed up."
"The Dark Lord!" gasps Emit.
"I said shut up, I know what I am referring to." cries the king. "He threatened the realm, destroyed the villages and towns of Alijone and Tefermore, so my brothers and I, we decided to challenge the Dark Lord on his turf. We were very brave, you see, but at this very moment, we learned that we were only very foolish... The three of us were the strongest mages in the realm, and after our great battle had ended..."
The king starts to crack, almost in shock and turmoil of his past.
"Harry lost his magic, Larry lost his voice..."
He grows quiet for a moment, in a state of deep sorrow and fear. Emit moves closer, worried.
"And Gary, your majesty?" says Emit. "What did Gary lose?"
"Gary lost his life." Says the king, as they all keep quiet for a moment, and decide to continue watching the battle, not uttering a single word more about the matter.
-
Markus and the troll are still dueling, the troll thrusts his sword at the prince, but the prince quickly jumps to the side, holding the troll's sword. The troll struggles to pull his sword away, but with another loud chant, frost starts emitting from Markus's hand, engulfing the sword, and then the troll's arm.
The troll struggles to pull away, but it only gets harder the more frozen it gets. It engulfs his shoulder and part of his chest. Markus stops, and with a sudden movement, still holding on to his sword, he raises the troll upwards and slams him to the ground, shattering the frozen part of his body.
The troll struggles to stand up, he starts growing his chest and shoulder again, very slowly this time, we can almost feel his internal pain as he struggles to heal from this fatal wound, squealing and grinding on his teeth, barely able to stand straight. The prince doesn't leave him a chance, he quickly swings his sword to the troll's neck, chopping his head off and sending it flying. He pops into a cloud of mana as those before him.
Still no time to rest, the manticore dives downwards through the bats, towards Markus. Markus quickly raises his sword and blocks the manticore, which tries to snatch it from his hand with its teeth.
"Oh for the gods' sake, give me a break!" cries the prince, struggling to pull his sword away from the creature's teeth.
-
"I like you guys, by the way. You're a crazy bunch, you fascinate me." says the traveller, eating from Fangs's nuts. Fangs looks at him, confused.
"What do you want, man?" says Fangs.
"Nothing." says the traveller, playfully. "Just to know you better!"
"Get outta here, man." says Fangs, obviously fed up with the traveller's presence.
"You know, Fangs," says the traveller, walking away for a bit, chewing, "this is a big, big world, and shit happens... Sometimes, shit that is far beyond anyone's understanding. Sometimes it is poetic, but most of the time it's just pretty funny."
"Uh huh." Says Fangs, still confused. He decides to keep watching the battle and ignore the traveller.
"I know a dude who was fighting this other dude," says the traveller, almost laughing, "it was a huge fight, everyone was watching, and he actually pins the guy down! It was pretty awesome, until he got knocked over by a pig."
"A pig?" says Fangs, puzzled and underwhelmed.
"A fucking pig!" says the traveller. "He just fell, broke his neck, and died. The end."
"Man, fuck off!" cries Fangs, annoyed.
-
"You know," says Jon, looking at the king, "I understand, I really do... I have a son, out there in the world... And I wouldn't want to see him dead, not in a million years."
The king shakes his head, pondering for a moment.
"I have seen death, many more times than I would have hoped. My wife, my brother, my mother and father, death is a heavy burden to carry alone." Says the king. "I gave birth to a prince to carry my burden, I will not carry his."
"Everyone's son will die. Everyone's daughter, the mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, even the fucking horses, if you don't let your son fulfill his prophecy." Says Jon. "I know it's hard to think about it, but your son is now not only carrying your burden, but everyone else in the realm."
"Hm." grunts the king, pausing for a moment to think. "You told me you were from a royal family, have you not?"
"Yes, I have." says Jon.
"What happened?" says the king.
"War happened." says Jon, as he starts to remember his own past, nearly submitting to grief. "The great war, between the Nexonish and the Kiyan. My father was the king of Stratfort at the time, King Edmund Eagle."
"You are an Eagle?!" cries the king, surprised.
"Yes, I was General of the Stratfortian army, and I was next in line to become the King of Stratfort." says Jon. "We Stratfortians always stood by Nexonin in times of war, and with Tefermore backing the Kiyan army, we just had to send every man in our army... It was a long, long war, and a very bloody one, but... We realized too late that we left our own kingdom unprotected, and so the blasted men of Camp Ozin seized control."
"I have heard of them." says the king. "They didn't stand for too long."
"Of course they didn't," says Jon, "all they know is magic, they know nothing about the people, about... leadership! ... But it was... too late, they killed... my father, and my mother..."
Emit and the king are fixated on Jon, listening to his story, shocked. They pity him.
"Oh, dear." gasps Emit.
"Bite my dragon eggs down to the nest, those bastards!" cries the king, waving his hands in disdain.
"They would have killed my wife, as well, had I not returned in time to take her off to Alijone." Says Jon. "You see, she was a princess from there, Alijone was her home. We decided to... lay low for a while... but a while became a lifetime and we decided that... This was a good life, much better than the one we had before. To move away from the ocean and the shores, the political turmoil and wars, to a peaceful place filled with life, just... simple life, from a time where everyone worked with everyone else to make their home a better place... This was the life we wanted. Not castles and riches and servants, but peace and quiet and true company, real happiness."
"I... Don't know what to say." says Emit.
"... Until the fucking Dark Lord took her away from me." says Jon, angrily. "That unsettling, unhinged spawn of hell."
"I am very sorry, Jon." says the king. "In some way, I guess you could say your... mother and father... That was our fault, wasn't it? Do you not bear any resentment?"
"It wasn't anyone's fault," says Jon, "just ours. We were too kind."
The king ponders for a moment, stroking his beard and slightly grunting.
"You gave me a lot to think about, Jon." says the king. "Please, make sure my son is strong enough to face this peril to the best of it. I will not bear to lose my only son."
"We will." says Jon.
The king stays still for a moment, looking at his son amidst his battle, before sighing and turning to leave.
-
Fangs and the traveller are still watching the battle. In an instant, the traveller and the king meet eye to eye... they both stare at each other in recognition, the king stops, almost watching him in slight anger, yet an expression of fear, while the traveller just smiles, almost wickedly.
"It feels like it was just yesterday..." the traveller says to himself, pondering.
"What the hell are you saying, man?" says Fangs.
"Nah, you won't get it." says the traveller, as he continues to look at the king. The king just walks off, still peaking behind his back, probably pondering and in deep thought as well. The traveller watches him until he disappears completely.
"Alright, that's my cue." he says. "I'll seeya guys in like a year."
"Get outta here, lemme watch this shit." blurts Fangs, throwing a nut at the traveller. However, the nut doesn't hit him, but it just... passes through him.
"Whoops! Haha!" says the traveller, almost nervous, until he realizes that nobody noticed this. Once again, he casually perishes in mid-air.
-
Markus struggles to strike the manticore, left and right, but the manticore continues to claw his sword with incredible speed, blocking every strike and tipping Markus off his balance.
"This is not working." sighs Markus, thinking for a moment while still trying to block the manticore's claws.
In a sudden movement, the manticore manages to knock the prince down with its paws and stands atop him, trying to grab his neck with its teeth. The prince lays, terrified, holding the manticore at a distance using his sword sideways.
He starts thinking, fast, he notices the fragile structure of the manticore's wings, the little nerves popping out of the joint between its wings and its body. He remembers something.
The manticore raises its teeth and takes a sudden dive down towards the prince's neck, but the prince rolls to the side just in time.
He then grabs the manticore's neck and holds on to it, climbing on top of it. The manticore roars loudly, trying to shake him off.
"Take that, you bloody piece of shit!" cries Markus, as he grabs his wings together, chanting another loud tune and freezing them, before he brings them together in a quick, sudden movement and shatters them.
The manticore screeches in pain, tossing Markus off, and starts going awol, it bashes around and screeches in severe pain, then takes one uncalculated dive towards Markus, widely opening its mouth, which is met by him pointing his sword forwards, impaling the beast's throat. Poof.
Markus turns to Fangs, raising his hands in a victorious manner.
"I did it!" cries Markus. "I fucking did it!"
"Mmm, not quite yet." says Fangs.
Suddenly, the flock of bats start to circle Markus. He is startled, dropping to the floor and screeching. The bats start biting him all over.
"Aaaaah! Get them off! Get them off!" shouts the prince. "Get these fucking bats off me! Bloody hell!"
He crawls back, swinging his sword around, but the bats continue to harmlessly nibble on him. He stands and runs around, terrified, shouting and cursing.
Fangs reunites with the other two, as they all watch the prince, smiling, almost to the point of laughing, but not quite there.
"You think he's ready?" says Jon.
"He's gettin' the hang of it, yeah." says Fangs.
"He still has a long way ahead of him." says Emit.
"Yeah, he probably does." says Jon. "We got time though, don't we?"
"Yeah, sure." says Fangs.
"All the time in the world." says Emit.
