《Random Road》This is not the Road you are looking for
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"All I have to do is pick the cloud with sand in it?" Tabernacle said, observing the cherub carefully.
"Of course."
"So, as long as there is sand in the cloud, I win?"
"You got it, yes."
"And you haven't done anything like removing the sand in a way I could not see, right?"
"I can assure you," said Besos from the side, "That there is a cloud with sand in it."
The two black clouds hovered in front of the cherub, obscuring their interior. It was impossible to tell the clouds apart, as they both formed perfect orbs with crackling electricity running across the otherwise smooth surface.
Tabernacle looked to Basos. The adjudicator was watching the orbs carefully, as well, but he provided no hint as to the answer. Although, from time to time, the octopus seemed to shift its gaze to the cherub, before quickly returning to look at the orbs.
Is there something wrong?
No, it could not be. Since the octopus had put on its latest demeanor, it had seemed entirely impartial to all the following events. Even here, it said nothing.
Tabernacle returned to look at the orbs. Still, there was no telling them apart, and yet he felt something was different about them. Or rather, there was something wrong about all of this. The cherub looked absolutely confident, its grin getting wider and wider every second. Surely, it could not be as simple as a fifty-fifty chance.
"Can I inspect them closer?" He finally asked, trying to delay the decision.
"Sure." The cherub made a gesture and the clouds floated closer. "Just don't touch them. If you do, I will consider it your loss. Agreed, adjudicator?"
"Agreed."
Looking over at Basos, Tabernacle noted that the adjudicator was not keeping its eyes on the two clouds that were now floating in front of him, but rather at cherub. The cherub, in turn, was still keeping on that creepy smile.
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He inspected the clouds closely, making sure not to touch. There was still no way to tell them apart, or to tell which one held the sand. In the end, he asked the cherub to take them back.
"Well, little Tabernacle, which cloud do you choose?"
In the end, what could he do but take a chance?
Sighing, Tabernacle raised a claw and pointed to one of the two clouds. The little cherub's smile grew wider.
Shifting slightly, he pointed to the other cloud. Again, the cherub's smile increased slightly.
Either he is playing me, or...
Tabernacle had to remember that he was not very clever. Whatever he did, he was just as likely to get it wrong, as he was to get it right. In the end, there was nothing else to do but to take a guess.
And if he was going to make a guess, might as well make it a wild one.
"I choose the cloud you're sitting on," he finally said, arriving at the final conclusion.
The cherub blinked. "What?"
"I said: I choose the cloud you're sitting on. You did not specify that I had to choose between the two clouds you've got in front of you."
"No, but... Are you sure? I showed you the whole process, though. Surely you would not be foolish enough to lose your guide just by acting clever?"
"There's no acting," said Tabernacle, "I'm actively being stupid, since I know I can't beat you in cleverness. If I was clever, I would have kept up with the clouds as you spun them, but I am not. Since I cannot pick between the two, it's better to go for the third option."
"Which is my cloud?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Enough stalling," Besos said, for the first time with a tinge of irritation, "He has made his choice, evil-doer. Reveal the answer.
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Eying the octopus, the cherub nonetheless waved his hand and dissipated the two dark orbs. One was completely empty, while the other had a small glass bead within. This surprised Tabernacle, since he had assumed the cherub had just removed the sand while he could not see it, or was distracted by the spinning clouds, but it had actually stayed in the cloud. Sighing he was about to admit defeat, when Besos spoke again.
"I told you to reveal the answer, evil-doer, not to distract from the truth."
The cherub showed actual anger now, flashing milky-white teeth towards the adjudicator. Finally he just pouted and said, "Very well, you are correct..."
From within the cloud he was sitting on, a few grains of sand emerged, floating for a moment before returning to the bucket. This time, it was Tabernacle's turn to grin. He had been right after all. For the wrong reasons, but still: he had been right. He had won this battle.
"Take it and go away," said the cherub, flinging an object towards him and crossing his arms, "I don't want to see you or your stupid guide before me again.
Tabernacle grabbed the object in mid- air between his claws. It was a small flagon, most certainly with the same vile liquid in it as the last time he had enjoyed a transmogrifier. Without feeling the need to say goodbye, he left the cherub to fume, unfurling his large wings and flying off in a random direction. It did not matter which way he went after all... supposedly.
After getting a distance between himself and the angry cherub, Tabernacle settled himself on a cloud and observed his surroundings. No matter where he looked there was nothing but clouds. Above and below there were only clouds. No matter how deep he dove, or how high he tried to go, there were always just more clouds.
Seeing as it was useless, he instead took out the transmogrifier. It was time to rid himself of this form. Bases pulled up beside him, still floating as if he was in water. "Will you take the transmogrifier here?"
"Might as well, right? It may be what I need to find the next path."
"Perhaps... Just keep your own will in mind. If you leave the road again, as you did before, I cannot help you back on."
With that in mind, Tabernacle pulled out the flagon, opened it, and drank the whole thing in one gulp. The taste was as vile as he remembered, but at least he did not throw up this time. He soon began shivering and shifting, recognizing the signs of his form changing. He would shed this imposed form and name to get a new one. With his increased understanding and willpower, surely he would get a great form this time around.
He was so consumed by thoughts on his presumed greatness that he did not realize the cloud was increasingly unable to hold his weight. At a particularly violent shiver, he suddenly sank down to his belly. Trying to grasp at anything that might provide leverage, he scrambled about to no avail.
Form warping about, he finally dropped out of the cloud's underside, beginning another long fall to somewhere unknown.
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The Final Dream
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