The Bathrobe Knight (36 page)

That’s why it was so frustrating. It made Kass want to pull her hair out. She had the strongest desire to use her amazing spells, but she couldn’t channel and keep up. She was only left with two options: either ask Darwin to slow down or figure out how to channel while running without breaking her concentration. Both options were impossible though since her pride wouldn’t let her do one, and sheer lack of ability wouldn’t let her do the other.
Another day of spamming Snowball’s Chance,
she sighed.

As the hours rolled by and the snowballs kept flying, she became sharply aware of the lack of conversation. While they were walking, the two had talked and goofed off, and she was getting to know him, but the second Darwin got near a mob it was all business no pleasure--or was it all “business is pleasure”? He didn’t say anything. He just darted from monster to monster in a gory mess. One second he was stabbing a bumble-bee-colored four-foot-tall Ant with goat horns in the head, and the next, he was slicing a pair of Deer-Frog’s heads off in one clean sweep. He could even be seen upper-cutting the occasional Goldfish-Butterfly-Squirrel into the air before throwing a Spoon right through its head.

The only thing he couldn’t be seen doing was talking about how his day was or what he was up to or what he and his friends did when they weren’t gaming. As she stared at him, his back began to feel more and more like an impassable wall separating the two.
What goes through his head while he is fighting that stops him from talking? How can he be that in the zone for hours at a time?
she wondered as she unleashed another snowball at two giant Beetle-Bees approaching from her right flank.

While she was watching his back, she saw the forest open up, and a mountain became visible. On the side of the mountain, there was an imposing entrance. It was plain, but not as plain as the entrance to the silver-ore mine. It had a series of head-sized square stones lining its outer edge as they led up to a single archstone on top. The archstone wasn’t a normal one though: it was the size of a massive watermelon and stuck out a good foot. There were even words carved on it, but Kass wasn’t close enough to read them yet.

“So, how long do we have to wait before the rest of them catch up?” She asked, not even bothering to humor the idea that they had been late with how fast Darwin butchered his way through the forest.

“Given what time it is now, and the distance they had to travel with the . . .” he started to answer, but Kass interrupted him right away.

“Nope! Stop that math right there and just tell me how long we have to wait,” she said sternly. She had sat through one too many half hour explanations to yes or no questions because of her dad’s love for long-winded math answers to let Darwin trail off.

“About an hour and a half, give or take five minutes,” he said.

“Might as well make ourselves comfortable then,” she said, still walking towards the entrance to read what was written on the archstone.

She knew it was part of the game, but when she finally managed to read the archstone, it sent a chill down her spine:
 The mountain has grown tall on the graves of trespassers; enter not lest you would have it grown taller.

Qasin
:

The primitive nature of the White-Horn capital left Qasin feeling somewhat disappointed. The people that had hunted, murdered, and killed his fellow men were living in a city that lacked even the basic marks of an advanced civilization. Sure, there were homes, but they weren’t even as sophisticated as the simple thatch houses that were commonplace throughout the Human lands. The White-Horns idea of a passable shelter was nothing more than two boulders stacked with a third over top as a covering to block the rain; or, even more remarkably, holes in the ground.
This . . . This is what almost toppled my Kingdom?
he seethed, suppressing an urge to put his Sword through the nearest Minotaur.
These foul things buried my good men?

“It’s hard not to,” Eve almost whispered in his ear. “All arrogance, no defense, a blade could slide in and out before anyone was the wiser,” she said, her observations resonating with his thoughts.

“I can’t,” Qasin responded quietly, almost as if he were thinking out loud. “I need them for the good of my people.”

“Diplomacy. Don’t you hate it?” she asked. She knew he did. “You have to make nice with the people who tried to kill you, all for a stupid Crown.”

Qasin didn’t respond this time. Every word she said was truth. Just a few days ago on the field of battle, he had felt alive and free for the first time in centuries; and yet, here he was again, shackled by the Crown.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ll get to kill at least one of them,” she whispered, chuckling a little as she did. “Barbarians such as these have to lose their alpha before they’ll accept a new one.”

“Do you think it is still him? The Axe King?” Qasin wondered aloud. “I had received word they deposed him, but I never found any confirmation on the subject.”

“I believe they tried, but failed. This philistine place bears none of the political conventions that other nations use to depose tyrants, so the only option left is the oldest and crudest method. A method the Axe-King, for lack of a decent foe, finds himself immune to,” Eve said, drawing a smile from Qasin’s face for the first time since they arrived in the capital.

“So someone of worth still draws breath on this wretched island?” He beamed.

The empty dullness that persistently encroached upon his thoughts ever since he discovered that he would never meet the Black Dragon in combat vanished. The Axe King, said to be peerless on the field, was waiting for him. He would not only get to use his Sword, he would get to do so against the warrior who had withstood a thousand challenges, the legendary Axe King.

“Qasin, you should try exploring. You might find that there are even some on this island who are far above you and your peers,” Eve laughed, smiling as she clung harder to Qasin’s arm.

“Exploring?” he sighed. “That is a luxury that a leading member of royalty should know he cannot afford.”

“Indeed, I suppose a member of the Human royalty might not be able to,” she agreed, still smiling. “Anyway, it seems as if you’ve successfully completed your mission to escort a beautiful young lady to the Axe-King.”

“It does appear to look that way,” he said as he came to a dead stop. In front of the two stood their destination.

A large marble throne sat in the center of a roughly spaced group of rock pillars. It was immediately obvious to even the most casual observer that the throne had been a laborious effort. Indeed, it stood out in stark contrast as an oddity when compared to primitive designs and craftwork that persisted throughout the White-Horn capital. The base of the throne was encircled with a carefully carved tablature depicting the conquest of an otherwise long-forgotten White-Horn leader. The arms and back of the throne were rounded smooth, presumably as much from use as from having been carefully tailored. Each of the pillars differed in height somewhere between five and twenty feet tall and were covered by roughly hewn spikes, giving off the illusion of large, barbed clubs.

All around the circle Satyrs and Minotaurs were standing, watching the throne. On it sat a giant nine-foot-tall Minotaur with an Axe lying across his lap. The Minotaur, with green eyes, tan hide, and muscles bulging like they were drawn in by Marvel or DC, stood as soon as he saw Qasin.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Brother,” he said, grabbing the Axe that was lying next to his throne. “I knew you’d come for me.”

Eve dropped Qasin’s arm and backed up a bit as Qasin started walking down the dirt path again towards the center of the circle.

“You knew I’d come?” Qasin asked.

“The stars foretold of our fates colliding long before first breath was drawn,” the Axe-King said, walking towards Qasin.

“That is interesting. Did these fates have anything specific to say about this collision?” Qasin asked, his hand gripping the coiled hilt of his blade.

“Only that we were made by the gods as brothers. That we were bound by the same pain and destined to suffer the same curse. The mystics have foretold our fate, that upon meeting, one of us would be given freedom at last.”

“Freedom . . . that would be nice, Brother,” Qasin said, deciding to humor the Axe-King out of courtesy. He wasn’t sure if he thought of them as brothers, but as leaders they would most assuredly suffer the same curse.

Qasin closed his eyes, leaned his head back and let his lungs empty. This moment, the calm mixed with a tingling anticipation that electrified his nerves, was a moment he wished would drag on forever. The goosebumps traveling down his arm let him feel every breeze and breath of wind that stirred around him.
Eve was right: this is what life is meant to feel like,
he thought, opening his eyes and lunging instantly at the Axe-King.
This is where I belong.

The Axe-King barely moved in time to save his kidney, the blade still nicking his hide as it tore past him. He quickly pulled the back end of his giant Axe’s shaft at Qasin as he dodged. Qasin, seeing the incoming shaft extended one hand to block it, lifting his feet up and letting the force of the Axe’s handle throw him into the air and over the Minotaur. He couldn’t get a clear cut, and the Axe-King was able to turn and slam his Axe into Qasin, throwing him back, before Qasin’s feet had even touched the ground again.

Qasin resumed his combat posture, extending his Sword forward like a fencer and throwing his left arm out for balance. Qasin knew the fight would not be won by quick lunges or sharp thrusts, it would be won by patience and counters. The Axe-King came at him again, throwing his Axe in a low sweeping arc in an attempt to catch Qasin in the chest, and Qasin ducked under it, using his comparatively small size to his advantage. He couldn’t even reach the Minotaur’s arms as the sweeping charge progressed, but his blade could and did reach the fingers, cutting up and pulling off two digits before another swing forced him to jump back.

The Axe-King didn’t even seem to notice the injury, throwing out countless more, but lower, swinging arcs as he drove Qasin backwards. Qasin jumped back almost four times before picking up the rhythm, and then on the fifth time he stabbed the double-sided blade at a downward angle, hitting it dead center. It busted the tip of his own Sword but sent the Axe into the ground to draw up dirt instead of blood. Before the Axe-King could get his weapon out of the dirt on his left, Qasin lunged at his right and drove the broken tip of his blade through the Minotaur’s lung.

The Axe-King stared at the blade protruding from his chest, pulled it out and tossed it to the ground. “Brother,” he said, blood coming out his mouth as he spoke, “forgive me that I could not set you free.” He took two more labored steps and collapsed.

“I forgive you, Brother,” Qasin said before cutting off the fallen Minotaur’s head. “I forgive you.”

He walked over to the throne the Axe-King had been sitting on and sat down. Everyone who had borne witness to the event lowered their head as he lowered himself into the chair. He was now the undisputed ruler of three peoples.

“Bravo,” Eve said, her soft clap the only sound in the arena. “Bravo, miLord. I suppose now I’ll have to do business with you instead of him.”

“That you will,” Qasin said, pulling out his Crown and putting it back on top of his head. “So, what does the Queen wish to discuss with me?”

Darwin
:

Kass had been staring at the archstone message since the two of them arrived. Darwin thought it was funny, but for some reason Kass took it way more seriously than he thought was necessary.
So what if it’s an ominous message?  It’s not like those type of shock warnings ever actually amounted to anything
, he thought, remembering all the video games that had tried to frighten him with these type of signs in the past. Each one had only ever amounted to him fighting the same boss he did in the last level, just with more hit points and a different avatar. Some games couldn’t even be bothered to switch the elements up each round.

Darwin tried to break Kass’s concentration with a question. “Do you think it’s actually going to be that tough?” he asked.

“Normally, I would say no, but in this game . . .” she trailed off for a moment, still not taking her eyes off the text. “In this game, it’s entirely different.”