《Mark of the Fool: A Progression Fantasy》Chapter 470: In the Aftermath of Disaster
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“And then! And then!” Thundar slammed his fist on the table. “She said that drinking water is bad for you! Can you believe that shit?”
Alex froze, looking up from the spell-guide for greater force armour. “Are…are you serious?”
“As death!” Thundar moaned, reaching for another glass of rum with a shaking hand. “She said it blocks the sun’s effects on your aura or somethin—Khalik, this isn’t that funny!”
The prince had fallen from his chair, howling with laughter, so consumed by mirth that he couldn’t find the strength to stand. “No, it’s even funnier! By the gods, this is incredible! Tell me, tell me, did she try to sell you strange herbs, or anything of the sort?”
“I honestly thought that’d be next!” Thundar downed a shot of rum, making a face. “Ugh, and the staring at the sun—”
“No!” Isolde could no longer resist, tearing herself away from her textbook. “No. What? No. You are lying to us. This…this must be a joke.”
By now, Khalik’s laughter had deteriorated into full blown sobbing.
“Listen, listen,” Thundar said seriously. “If this was all a joke, then I’m the punchline and the only ones telling the joke were fate and the gods! I am not lying to you! She said that she stared at the sun so she could get all its good energy right into her eyes! Right into her eyes, Isolde!”
“Oh…oh my goodness.” The young noblewoman began to shake, covering her mouth.
“And! On! Top! Of! That!” Thundar’s voice boomed. “She said that her eyes got bad after first year! And that it was probably from reading too much.”
Alex burst out laughing, surprised when Isolde joined him.
The young woman was bent at the waist, giggling uncontrollably while trying in vain to cover her mouth. “No…not that! That is too much!” She threw her head back, her laughter echoing off the walls of Alex’s apartment.
Claygon looked between the members of the cabal, his gaze lingering on Thundar as the minotaur began to giggle, then chuckle, until he too was roaring with laughter.
‘Father…bad things can sometimes be funny?’ He asked. ‘Thundar was just saying his date was…‘bad’, but now he’s laughing with you.’
“Yeah, buddy!” Alex barely managed to squeak out the words through his own hysterics. “Sometimes bad things canbe funny! Not all the time, but sometimes they can!”
“Easy for you to say,” Thundar rolled his eyes, chuckling as he poured himself another drink. “You weren’t the one dealing with all that madness!”
“I would say that you are actually quite fortunate, Thundar.” Isolde wiped tears from her eyes. “Your amorous focus of affection showed you her…eccentricities early. When I had my bout of poor luck in love, my mistake did me the discourtesy of hiding his figurative boils and warts until I was fully committed to the relationship. Bah!” She shook her head mournfully. “I would have given much for such a bad first date with Derek. I had many months of grief thanks to him, while all you have for your trouble, Thundar, is an amusing story. …but I have to ask, how are you doing? I can only imagine the disappointment.”
“Me? Disappointed? Naw.” He waved away her concern. “Way I see it is that it coulda been a lot worse. Like you said, I could’ve gotten deeply involved and—next thing you know—bam! I’m living in a cabin up in crazy-land. No, in the end, this isn’t too bad. I went out with her, got to know her—like I said I would—and what I found made me run for the hills. That’s nothing to regret. Better than carrying a crush for someone who would’ve been a disaster for me.”
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He snorted in amusement. “Imagine how sad that would be? I could’ve floated through my full four years here with this big, stupid crush. Maybe I would’ve put her on a pedestal too: built her up in my head until I thought she was this untouchable goddess. Maybe I would’ve turned down other opportunities: gone through my university years pining for a ‘goddess’ that’s less ‘goddess’ and more ‘common garden variety weirdo’.”
Isolde’s eyebrows rose. “That’s…rather mature, Thundar.”
The minotaur shrugged. “It’s practical. I saw one of my older cousins pining for this one girl for like three years, imagining her as this perfect…” He made a vague gesture. “...thing.”
“Very descriptive,” Alex said.
“Indeed,” Khalik agreed, climbing back into his chair. “You would make for a fine poet.”
“Hey, I’m a wizard and a warrior, not a damned bard,” Thundar grunted.
“Fair enough, but I am curious, Thundar.” Khalik cocked his head. “What happens now? Is she interested in a second date?”
“Dunno, and I ain’t thinking about that for a bit,” he said. “I’m gonna tell her when classes start up that I had fun but…don’t think we work too good together. Hope she’s okay with that. Last thing I want is for things to get awkward during our Cleansing Movements sessions. I really like those.”
“Then I hope all goes well.” The prince poured himself a drink. “And I hope your next date is a better experience.”
“Well, the bar’s been set pretty low,” Thundar chuckled, before his smile faded. “...but, I’ve been thinking about her pet a bit.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “It’s a good thing you told your story while Theresa was out walking Brutus. I doubt she would’ve seen the humour from the moment you mentioned that she only fed that bilogar vegetables.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it,” the minotaur said sadly. “I’m not exactly gonna go and steal her pet. But, that’s the thing, you know? She means well. I can tell she loves…Puppy—by the ancestors, I still can’t believe that’s his name—and I’d be kind of a jackass if I just “petnapped” him.”
“I don’t know, man,” Alex said. “Some people would just look at it as a rescue.”
“The animal might disagree,” Prince Khalik said somberly. “We have a story in Tekezash.” He rose to his full height in his chair. “There was once a soldier on his way home from war. In this war, he saw many terrible things and had done many terrible things. His dreams were blood and the guilt made his waking hours into horrors.”
He glanced at Najyah, who had her head tucked behind her as she slept. “On his way back to his village, he saw a hawk by the road, feasting on a cat that had a blue piece of twine around its neck as a collar. Nearby, he saw a child crying. And so he asked the child if that was his cat.”
Khalik put on a voice. “And the child turned to him in tears, and said: ‘It is not my cat. It is my father’s cat, but I let him escape. Now the hawk has killed him and my father will beat me,’ and the soldier asked the boy: ‘why will your father beat you for what the hawk has done?’. And the boy said to him: ‘because I am a bad boy’. This enraged the soldier, and so he demanded that the boy lead him back to his house. There, the soldier beat the father terribly.”
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Khalik slammed a fist into his hand. “He said to the father: ‘I will take your son and raise him properly, away from your violent ways’. And so the soldier raised his spear to slay the man…but he felt a sharp pain in his back. Surprised, he turned…and found the boy. The boy had stabbed him with a pitchfork. And as the soldier died, he asked the child: ‘why? I was trying to save you’. And to this, the boy told him, ‘because you are an evil man and you hurt my father’. So, the soldier died.”
“Jeez, that’s a dark story,” Thundar winced. “What’s the moral?”
“Let me see if I can guess,” Alex said. “That not everyone who you think you are saving will see it that way, even if their circumstances are utter shit.”
Khalik snapped his fingers. “You are correct. It can also be said that the soldier never lost his violent ways, despite his grief over them. After all, his way was to beat the father in front of the child.” He spread his hands. “My father told my brother this story, and my brother told it to me. When you are ruling a country—and you are a good monarch—it can be tempting to muster your armies to crush any tyrant you see. But, when your armies are striding over borders, crushing and gutting soldiers, you might find that the people see your ‘liberation’ as something else.”
“We have similar tales among the nobility in the Rhinean Empire,” Isolde said grimly. “I can imagine that—if you were to take this animal away from his mistress, he might not appreciate what you have done. After all, a bilogar’s loyalty is foremost to its master.”
Thundar jumped in. “Ya know, that’s true, which makes this situation even worse. The more I think about Kohana and that poor skinny pet of hers, the more the way she’s feeding it doesn't sit right with me. Predators need meat.” He paused suddenly, seemingly struck by inspiration. “I’ve got an idea that doesn’t involve pet theft. Maybe I can tell her that Puppy’s eyes looked dull, and his aura seemed out of balance to me, like he needed to see a healer! I think she’d go for that. Any healer with eyes would take one look at him and see that there’s something definitely wrong…then bang, problem solved!” Thundar looked very pleased with himself as he drained his glass.
“That should solve the problem nicely, Thundar.” Isolde said.
“Yeah,” Alex agreed, with a hint of worry in his voice. “What you said about loyalty earlier; that’s…something I think about a fair bit. I mean, when I think about Thameland.”
“How so?” Khalik asked.
“Well, let’s say in the worst case scenario that keeps playing through my head— Uldar’s actually evil, or something—then let’s just say for a moment that he gets stopped. The cycles end and the Ravener’s gone. Everyone is supposed to live happily ever after, right? Except maybe a bunch of regular folk in Thameland aren’t so happy about that, eh?”
“Ah yes, that. That is true…” Khalik murmured. “I have some hope that perhaps things will not be so grim, but…if they are…”
Silence fell over the room.
“It’s something to talk about with the Heroes, I think,” Alex said. “If we lose the church and our faith in Thameland, they’ll be who people are probably going to listen to.”
“Yeah well,” Thundar grunted. “You’ll get a chance to ask them soon enough. Which reminds me—” He looked at Isolde. “You’ve got me rooting for you and Cedric. I hope your first date with him’s a hell of a lot better than mine with Kohana.”
The young noblewoman went beet-red. “I-I have no intentions of asking him out!”
“Ah, a traditionalist, eh?” Thundar chuckled. “Well, he’s bold. When he gets a chance, he’ll ask.”
“I…I do not wish…” Isolde paused, looking away. “I…hope not.”
“Wait, what, why?” Alex asked. “You like him, and he’s a lot better than your last pick, I gotta say.”
Her lips thinned. “It is…impractical, Alex.”
“How so?” An eyebrow rose.
“I am a noblewoman. A member of the aristocracy of the Rhinean Empire,” she said, raising her chin. Her eyes flashed as she held Alex’s gaze. “I have responsibilities to my empire, my grandfather, my parents, the fief…I cannot irresponsibly choose just any partner.”
“Oh come now.” Khalik’s frown deepened. “Do not tell me your parents insist on choosing your marriage partner for you. Or even who you choose to court in your youth. Even mine do not engage in such a practice…though, they will make their opinions known.” He winced. “Very known. So, I have that to look forward to.”
“My condolences. My parents are similar,” she said. “They do not insist on choosing a marriage partner for me, only because they have full trust that my choice will be one that does not bring trouble or shame to the family. They trust that I will pick well.”
“Would’ve been real disappointed if you’d brought Derek back, then,” Thundar said.
“Thundar!” Alex looked at him sharply.
“What, it’s true!” The minotaur frowned. “Think about what Theresa’s mom and dad would do if she brought Derek to their threshold.”
“Oh, by the Traveller, even I don’t want to imagine that much violence.” Alex shuddered.
Isolde laughed bitterly. “Well, you are not as correct as you think you are. My parents would worry about that choice on a personal level, but would not interfere from a political standpoint—if I were foolish enough to make such a choice—as Derek would not be a terrible choice, on paper. He is from a fine family in the realm with wealth and clout behind them.”
“Ugh.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Glad I wasn’t born into nobility, then. Don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff. But, what’s wrong with Cedric?”
“Cedric is…” she paused. “Cedric is a valued member of his clan, within your kingdom, Alex. But, he is not a member of the nobility. He has no great holdings in your lands or mine. It is…difficult.”
“Well, what about the fact that he’s a Hero. A Chosen, no less.” Alex said. “That’s about as important as you can get in Thameland. After every Ravener defeat, Chosens have gone on to be generals, some married Thameish princesses, others were given fiefs. Cedric’s no bloody titleless bumpkin. In some ways, he’s got one of the greatest titles in the realm.”
“Indeed, and I have accounted for that,” Isolde said. “When I was at home, I took the liberty of proceeding to an archive in the capitol. I discovered that there have been instances of Heroes of Uldar marrying Rhinean nobility before. It is not unheard of.”
“Right, that’s good, then!” Alex said. “Problem solved, right?”
“It is not simp—Wait…Thundar, why are you cackling like an old witch?” Isolde glared at the minotaur suspiciously.
He was fighting back laughter. And failing. “Well, I was just thinking I gotta tell Cedric to run. Or go fight the Ravener and then just…live in the wilderness somewhere where no one can find him.”
“And why is that?” Isolde asked.
“Well, I mean…” he giggled. “You two haven’t even gone out on a date yet…and you’re already looking up ancestors-damned marriage precedents! Hah!”
Isolde went stark white.
Khalik and Alex slowly looked back at her with twin evil grins on their bearded faces.
“I-it is not like that!” She yelped.
“Is it not?” Khalik asked innocently.
“It is not!”
“Are you sure about that?” Alex asked innocently.
“Yes!” Isolde cried. “I am not some wretched madwoman who would cling to someone like a drowning sailor to a piece of driftwood! I-it…” She turned away. “I-it just pays to be prepared for eventual possibilities, is all.”
Alex looked at Khalik and Thundar. “So we’re going to make sure we give Isolde and her fiery-haired prize plenty of alone time when the Heroes get here, right?”
“Of course!” Thundar and the prince said in unison.
“I hate you all!” Isolde’s scream echoed through the insula.
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