I’m breathing heavily when I come back to my senses. The arena is going crazy over the death of Appius, and now I’m public enemy number one, the monster who slew the most promising Elf of their generation.

Do I wish things would have gone differently?

While looking at everyone on the stands and taking in their hate, not really, no. I’m not the bigger man in the room; I’m not just taking all this shit without my pound of flesh.

“Is there anyone else?”

I let the Mana carry my voice to the stands, and most people go silent. I can see it on their faces: they are scared. Anger is fading away, and dread is settling it. There’s nothing else in this world but a Human with no blood on his bright red, glittery shorts.

Is there a profound lesson to gain here? Am I some kind of a – cringe alert – joker that sheds truth on the corpses of fools?

I look around, and I see Appius’s body, lifeless but still rosy. His eyes are wide open, and his tongue is sadly sticking out from his mouth, swollen – gross until the end. I can already imagine the stench of decomposition and flies buzzing around his corpse while everyone commiserates about how great he could have been.

Nope, I don’t think there’s much to learn here.

And it’s not just about ‘oh, death doesn’t teach you anything.’ It’s more on the line of ‘this was stupid.’

There are certainly some lessons of some kind. There always are. It’s like in Karate Kid. Once you look deep enough, you find something even in ‘wax on, wax off.’ But do you want to look deeper into this pile of steaming shit?

“Is there anyone else?”

This time, everyone goes silent. The show has come to an end, and we slowly realize it. Not just me, but also them. The curtain is closing, and they did not get the ending they hoped for. The hero is dead. The monster triumphed. They can’t just go back home and laugh. Sleeping it off won’t work either. This is a blow to the collective mind of these people, a scar that will not fade easily.

“A performance of spectacular prowess has graced my eyes.”

I turn to find Valarith, the hooded woman with a terrifying scar on her cheek. Face-cheek, I mean. Or that I know of, at least.

Stop thinking. She can read your thoughts.

“Why do you talk funny?”

“I am not used to interactions outside of—” she stops to look for the right words. “—practicing magic.”

“Meh. Ok. Listen, I’m going on vacation. Right-the-fuck-now.”

“My disciple would like to fight you. It would prove to be the first decent fight you’ve had today. The last one could have been satisfactory to the untrained eye of the masses but—”

“Look, no disrespect here, but I’m done. Also, I don’t see any disciple of yours around.”

“Oh, he is right there,” she points behind me.

Typical.

As I turn, I find myself looking at the most freakish person I have ever met in my entire life. And I have lived in New York City. In front of me, there’s another hooded person, but this guy has absolutely no hair anywhere on his body. And that’s already something that should freak you out because bald people, as we know, have no soul. But the scariest thing is that his lips are sewed together – yeah, with a thick black thread like in horror movies.

“Yeah. Thanks, but no thanks,” I say, looking back at the woman. “This freakshow has gone on long enough, and I’m out. I have some matters to take care of, and I’m not fighting that.”

I give one last look to the man before feeling shivers creep up to my butthole.

“He took a [Vow]. But his kindness is unrivaled and audacious.”

What?

“Sure. Listen. Let’s wrap this up. I’ll write you a postcard from some tropical island.”

I turn around, thoroughly tired, but I still pick up the belt and hold it in my hands as I make my way toward the exit.

“It is my intention to bring you back with me. I shall not let you leave.”

“What? Are you going to kill me?” I say with a yawn.

“Leave. Go away. I need a meeting with your inner soul.”

“Yeah, no.”

I keep walking.

“You have no say in this matter.”

Suddenly, all my limbs seize up, and in the next second, I find myself facing the hooded woman.

I realize I just made my way back to where I was when I killed Appius.

Space Magic?

“You will meet my disciple in a duel, Levener. And then, we will converse.”

“Speak? Talk, you mean? And I’m not meeting anyone anywhere, woman. Back off. Thank you.”

Joey Luciani, be careful. She is a Vanedeni. More than anyone you have ever met so far. And my people don’t take well to disrespect.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

There’s a long, awkward, silent pause before I resume walking away again.

“If you walk away, I’ll take that as disrespect.”

I turn, flabbergasted.

“What are you, a child?”

Valarith narrows her eyes.