Basil the Bunny removed the knife from Brin’s stomach. Myra’s shirt repaired itself immediately, and the black cloth barely showed the wetness of his blood.
“Go to your room. Don’t give Hogg any sign that something is wrong,” said Basil.
“What about sound?”
“Don’t worry about that. We can talk.”
Brin didn’t waste any time. He didn’t look to the left or right. He casually went to his room and closed the door behind him. Basil didn’t follow, but when Brin looked up he saw the bunny already on his bed.
“Let me explain how this is going to be. We’re going to play some games. If you lose, you get cut. If you win, you still get cut,” said Basil.
“That doesn’t sound very fun,” said Brin. “Shouldn’t I be safe if I win?”
Basil tsked and shook his head sadly. “How were you raised? Games aren’t about winning or losing. It’s about having fun! And don’t worry, I’ve been cutting children for a very long time. I’ll be careful and make sure not to slice anything important. As long as we’re having fun. But if you don’t do what I say, then maybe I won’t be so careful.”
That was it? They were just going to play a bunch of sadistic little games? What was the point? If Basil made good on his threat and killed Brin, Hogg would hunt Awnadil to the ends of the earth. Why would she take that risk? The only thing he could think of was spite. Basil had tortured Bruna’s son for messing with her plans. Now this was Brin’s punishment.
The stuffed yellow rabbit started hopping around Brin’s room. He snapped the curtains closed and then checked in the drawers and under his bed, searching for something? Checking for more visible eyes, most likely.It gave Brin a few seconds to think. How was he going to handle this? Back on earth he’d heard that if you were getting kidnapped, the most important rule was to scream and fight. The best chance of escape was right after you’ve been nabbed, while you were still strong and still generally in public.
But that was on earth, with earth rules. Basil was something like level 60 if he remembered correctly. There was no doubt in Brin's mind that he could cut him in half before he let out more than a squeak.
If this really was a punishment, then there was a good chance he would walk away from this. He just had to endure it.
“What are you looking for?”
“Toys,” said Basil, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. He stood on top of Brin’s dresser and opened the top shelf. That was where he kept some spending money. Fifty gold; the rest was in Hogg’s Sofa of Holding. “Where did you get all this money?”
“Hogg gives me an allowance,” said Brin. He had no reason to let this thing know about Lumina.
“That’s bonkers. This is too much money for a child. Do you mind if I have it?” asked Basil.
“Sure. Why would I mind? I’m just a–”
A sharp prick announced Basil’s knife, piercing his chest and scraping one of his ribs. “Don’t get sarcastic with me, Aberthol. It’s not funny and it’s not fun.”
Brin had been going for childish innocence, but obviously he’d put a little more bite in the statement than he meant to. He’d been taking this lightly. It was hard not to, when your opponent was a little stuffed rabbit. He grit his teeth and forced himself to look contrite. “Sorry.”
“It’s forgiven!” Basil said, his sewn mouth beaming with a smile. “See how easy that is? But back to business. Where are your toys?”
“I’m thirteen years old,” said Brin, then quickly followed up with, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have cool stuff! Here…”
Thinking quickly, he reached under his bed and pulled out his collection. “This black sword is from the first undead I ever killed. This nail is the first thing I ever made with metal, and this,” he held his old iron knife up triumphantly, “is the first knife I ever made!”
Basil eyes it critically, “It’s not very good.”
“Like I said, it was my first ever. This is the first glass knife I ever made,” said Brin. He held up the glass knife that he’d made by painstakingly sanding it into form.
“That’s a little better, but nothing like my knives,” said Basil.
“You should see what I can do now,” said Brin. “Can I see your knife again?”
“This old thing?” Basil showed Brin the knife by stabbing it into his forearm. Brin winced, and grit his teeth, making sure to show nothing on his face.
The knife was pretty thin and a foot and a half long, no doubt so that Basil could stab people who were taller than him, which was everyone.
Brin felt the beginning of a plan take shape. He called on [Summon Glass] and the magic responded with an ease he’d never felt before. The glass sprang into being in nearly exactly the shape he wanted, and it only took a little bit with [Shape Glass] to make it perfect.
In under a minute, Brin produced an exact replica of Basil’s knife, in glass.
“Careful…” Basil warned.
“Of what? Are you afraid I might accidentally cut you?”
Basil snorted. “No.”
Brin tossed him the knife. “For you.”
Basil caught it in his other paw. There were no fingers or anything; things that Basil wanted to grab just sort of adhered to his paw.
“I bet it’s way sharper than your other knife. I don’t like getting cut with dull blades.”
“Well who would?” Basil said with a smile. He stabbed Brin, deeply this time, into the shoulder. Brin hissed in pain as Basil twisted the knife around a bit.
He couldn’t keep going like this. He was going to break. Tears entered his eyes, and a scream crawled its way up his throat. Only a titanic effort of will let him shove it back down. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t have a high pain tolerance; that was why [Scarred One] was so tempting in the first place.
But the [Scarred One] was still a part of him, wasn’t he? He still remembered what it was like. He still remembered how he’d acted, who he’d been.
Brin threw on the personality like a mask. He felt his mouth spread wide in a nasty grin. He wanted to laugh. And why not? The first chuckle came low and dark, like a cough, but then it erupted into a bout of reckless cackles.
The pain was still there, but it was fine now. It would just make him happier, angrier and crazier until this was over.
Only then did he think to check Basil’s original knife with [Inspect].
Masterwork Longdagger. Enhanced by a master smith for sharpness and durability.
He was dead. He was so dead. No way his on-the-spot glass knife was actually sharper than a masterwork. The thought just made him laugh harder.
“So? Pretty good, huh?” asked Brin.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Aberthol, this knife is really sharp,” said Basil.
Brin thought he was probably just being nice. That idea was funny enough that he thought he might throw up from laughing so much, so he tamped it down.
Basil winked at him. No, he was probably blinking, it was just that one of his eyes was sewn shut. The other was blue and glassy, but it wasn’t glass. Brin’s Skill didn’t detect it at all. Probably some kind of gemstone.
Basil pulled the knife out of his shoulder. It burned with pain the entire time, but the burning was like a double shot of espresso at four in the afternoon on a Friday. It was making him more alert for their next game.
He lifted his arm when the knife was out, moving it around. He didn’t feel any kind of limit to his range of motion or even his strength, even though every slight twist brought another wave of burning pain. Basil was true to his word; he really was good at making sure to not cut anything important.
Both of the knives disappeared. He’d figured Basil had some kind of dimensional storage, after all that knife was nearly as tall as he was; he had no place to hide it. Now it was confirmed, he felt the knife nearby but also somehow distant. It was the same feeling as the potion bottles that Hogg kept in his bag of holding.
“So what do you want to do next?” asked Brin.
“How about cards?”
They played a game that was sort of a demented version of go fish, and Brin got stabbed three times. Once, because he actually cheated and the other two times because he was winning.
Anyone crossing on the street would hear the sounds of a boy playing a card game with his younger brother. Childish bickering interspersed with uproarious laughter at every twist and turn of the game.
“Hey, hey, hey Aberthol–” Basil was saying, while pretending to read his cards with all of them facing outwards.
“Did you know? No-one here calls me Aberthol,” said Brin.
“What? Really? Why not?”
“No one knew my name when I got to town so I told them all I was named Scar the Mistaken.”
“No way. No way that’s true,” said Basil.
“It’s true. Cross my heart,” said Brin.
“I’m going to go ask. And if you’re lying I will cross your heart. And not in the way you want.”
“Just don’t–” Brin started, then bit his lip.
“Just don’t what?”
He shouldn’t have said anything. No, he definitely should. Just because he was pretending to be the [Scarred One] didn’t mean he’d totally forgotten what was right and wrong. “Don’t kill anyone.”
“Huh. So that’s how I get to you. Ok, Brin, if you’re telling the truth and you keep being fun, I won’t kill anyone.”
Basil disappeared. Vanished from all sight. The necessity of putting on a brave face faded away and Brin’s real face started to show through. He grit his teeth and took in a long, shaky breath, willing himself not to break down.
It hurt. His shoulder, and then Basil had stabbed his stomach again, his leg, and his bicep. Each time, Basil had brought out a new knife, and each time, Brin had insisted on replacing it with one of his glass ones. He was burning through mana fast, but hopefully it would be worth it.
Every movement hurt, although he somehow still felt like he could move normally. Clearly, Basil liked playing with children for a very long time.
When Basil returned, it was almost a relief. Brin’s smile returned to his face, as well as the burning anger. Right, feeling sorry for himself could wait until after the danger had passed. Now was the time for hatred.
“You little turd,” said Basil. “They really are calling you Brin isu Yambul. I can’t believe it. You were telling the truth. Here’s your reward.”
He brought out a scalpel and shaved off Brin’s skin. He made a quarter-inch thick line that ran in a spiral all the way around, moving from his armpit down past his elbow.
“That is a very interesting feeling,” said Brin. He flexed, and little dots of blood appeared all up and down his arm from the area where he’d been flayed. He tried to keep his voice casual but couldn’t help gasping in pain. “Here. Let me try that one.”
He called on [Summon Glass], and this time [Directed Meditation] was the only reason he could make it work at all. He created the scalpel and then shaped it into extreme sharpness.
“Thanks,” said Basil, and made both it and his original scalpel disappear. He looked down at the cards on the floor and then kicked them. “I’m bored of cards. Let’s do something else. How about hide and seek?”
Brin tried to keep the excitement off his face. Hide and seek meant going outside, right? More chances that Hogg would notice and come save him. “Sure, sounds fun.”
“Ok, then you hide first. And don’t worry. If anyone bothers you, I’ll take care of them,” said Basil.
“No one is going to bother me. They love me in this town,” said Brin.
Basil smirked condescendingly. “I bet they do.”
“Mind if I get changed first?” Brin gestured at his ruined clothes. Myra’s enchantment had worn out pretty early. It was only meant to repair one or two scrapes between charges, not a full on torture session.
“Oh, I can take care of that,” said Basil. He patted Brin on the shoulder, and for once it was just his stuffed paw without a knife. Brin’s clothes instantly mended back together.
“Wow!” said Brin.
“You’re really surprised that I can repair fabric? Really?”
“What did we say about sarcasm?”
“Huh. You’re right. I’m sorry,” said Basil.
“No problem,” said Brin.
“Now are you ready to hide?”
Basil put his yellow paws to his eyes and started counting, even covering the eye that had been sewn closed with an ‘x’. Brin took off.
He dashed out the door and down the street, towards the walls. Nobody gave him a second glance. People were rushing around everywhere, no doubt due to the undead that had been spotted outside the walls.
He didn’t bother shouting out to any of the people that he passed. That would just be condemning them to death. The only person he trusted to deal with Basil was Hogg, and Hogg should be near the walls, either under a gate or in a watchtower.
He neared the walls to the easter gate, but didn’t see Hogg, so he changed direction and ran alongside it except a block away so it wouldn’t be too obvious what it was doing.
He didn’t get lucky. Time for Plan B. Because he really needed to find a hiding spot or Basil would be disappointed. He needed a place where no one would be; he couldn’t take the risk of getting someone else mixed up in this. There weren’t a lot of spots like that in the middle of town. Sure, there were probably lots of empty houses, but which ones could he guarantee would be empty? He had a better idea. He ran towards the silos.
The butcher’s silo where all the chimera’s were would probably be locked, but Hammon’s Bog was a trusting enough society that no one would bother to lock the others. He tried the chimera silo first, just in case, and to his surprise the door opened without any trouble. He ran inside and found a charnel pit.
The cages hanging from the ceiling were all open, and the chimeras were all dead. They lay on the ground in massive heaps. Someone had killed all the chimeras. Did they scrap the power-leveling plan for the new System Day kids after Bianca went crazy?
It was the perfect hiding spot, though. He found a massive bear claw and snuggled in underneath it.
It was cold, and gross, and heavy, but luckily he didn’t have to wait very long. The soft sound of a stuffed animal landing on the floor announced Basil’s arrival, and moments later, he casually kicked the bear claw off of Brin.
“I didn’t think you would really hide, but you did,” said Basil. He rewarded Brin with a stab straight through the top of his foot. This time he used a metal pole that could’ve been a fireplace poker. Brin dutifully recreated it in glass and gave it to Basil, who made it disappear.
By now, there was a lot of Brin’s glass in Basil’s hidden storage.
“You know, this is a nice spot! Did one of your local [Witches] set this up?” asked Basil.
“Yeah, and I killed her!” Brin said proudly. Then he winced as if something just occurred to him. “Hey, you don’t think Awnadil is mad about me killing a [Witch], do you?”
“Not about this one, no,” said Basil. “What you really shouldn’t have done, is–”
Basil stopped suddenly, and frowned. “He’s coming. You warned him, didn’t you?” His face twisted, veins bulging, his ordinary cutesy features mutating into something monstrous.
“No!” Brin objected, though he felt a swell of hope. There was only one person Basil could be talking about.
“I thought I told you not to give him any sign,” Basil growled.
“I didn’t! I swear! He must’ve found out on his own!”
Basil relaxed, his features turning back into an ordinary stuffed bunny. “Well, then I believe you. No big deal, we got to play a lot, didn’t we? I guess I should go now.”
He opened the door to the outside, and stepped out.
Brin followed him, his shoe squelching with every step.
Hogg stood outside blocking the way, looking as vast and cold as a winter storm.
“See you later, Aberthol. See you later, Hogg. Mama told me to tell you that she doesn’t like what you’ve been up to. You’re dangling on a thin thread.”
“You really think you’re going to walk out of here?” asked Hogg. There was a light in Hogg’s eyes, something that the [Scarred One] in Brin definitely recognized. If that expression was ever pointed at him, he’d start making funeral plans.
Hogg was here. And he was pissed. Brin wanted to sink to the ground in relief, and only excitement at what was about to happen kept him standing.
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Basil. “If you bother me, then Mama is going to bother you.”
“Two things. The first one is that I don’t believe you. I have protections enough that Awnadil won’t be able to hex me from a distance. She’d have to come close, and she’s not going to do that. [Witches] don’t live long enough to become [Great Witches] by taking risks.
“Second thing. I don’t care, even if she did.” Hogg massaged his temple. “I was going to let you get away with it. I was going to keep my head down and play along. All you had to do, the only thing you had to do, was to keep your filthy hands off my son.”
Sensing that this was his moment, Brin locked onto all the glass inside Basil the Bunny, and pushed. He used [Shape Glass], planning to push all the rest of his magic into it and make it all explode at once. Only, the magic didn’t take. He could sense the glass inside the dimensional storage Basil was using, but he couldn’t interact with it.
It was a good thing he didn’t try this earlier. Well, Hogg would have to deal with it.
The sun went dark. Brin looked up to see what was blocking it, only to find an enormous dome made of utter blackness grow out of the sky, sinking down to the ground like chocolate being poured on an ice-cream cone. It was huge, going over the top of the silo and surrounding the area in utter blackness. The dome hit the ground. He was trapped. Not Brin, he was fine. Basil was trapped; he’d never see daylight again.
Hogg blurred into action, moving so quickly that it was hard for Brin to follow. The old guy wasn’t an [Illusionist] anymore, but Brin still had a hard time keeping track of him. He seemed to dart around the impromptu arena as if he were the one who could teleport. Sometimes the Hogg that Brin saw was a mirror image, which explained some of it, but mostly it was the fact that he was just that fast.
At first, Brin could only keep track of the fight with the occasional flash of sparks and the sound of steel clashing against steel. Here, then there, then back again. Basil teleported around the area, but he apparently couldn’t teleport outside of the dome Hogg had created.
Sometimes the flash of sparks was inches away from Brin’s nose, but there was nothing he could do except trust Hogg to protect him. This fight was beyond him; he was just getting in Hogg’s way.
All sorts of strange shapes appeared, random-looking constructs of hard light. With the black dome in place, Hogg was able to use the full spread of his colors, and he did. A bright red tripwire there, a few green platforms in the air there, and weapons. So, so many weapons. Blue sabers, orange pikes, and pink bows shooting violet arrows.
The wall of the silo shattered as something yellow and fluffy was thrown through it. The wall near the flow exploded as the bunny came out again. A wall of hard light popped up to shield Brin from the shrapnel, then sank away again.
There had to be something he could do. He could still feel where Basil was, just based on where his glass was. Maybe that would help?
He pointed, following Basil’s path around the inside of the dome. The frequency and violence of the clashes of steel increased drastically. It was working.
He saw Basil more often, saw tears start to show in the yellow fabric. Blood poured out with stuffing.
All at once, his glass became a lot bigger and more visible in his mind. Basil had caught on and summoned it all out of his storage. Before he even saw what was happening with his eyes, Brin acted on instinct. He pushed into it with [Shape Glass], and made it expand wildly and get sticky.
The glass latched onto Basil, slowing him down for a precious instant.
Alert! [Shape Glass] leveled up! 18 -> 19
A vicious kick from one of Hogg’s clones sent Basil into the wall of the dome. A hammer blow knocked him to the ground, where he bounced back up just in time for a swarm of black arrows to blow through him and shred his fabric.
From there, it was just plain bullying. Hogg chased him around the arena, shredding him to pieces, pulling out stuffing, and shattering his masterwork knives.
Basil had some power to repair himself, but it wasn’t enough to keep up with the onslaught. His yellow fabric never stopped trying to regrow the pieces that Hogg tore away, but Hogg relentlessly broke him back down every time he built himself up.
Finally, Basil started to slow. He stopped teleporting around the arena. One arm completely torn off, a leg dangling to the side, Basil summoned what was left of his strength, carrying a broken knife in a shaky paw, and leapt at Hogg.
Hogg summoned a sphere of clear hard light and slammed it around the stuffed bunny, capturing him in place.
“Ok, fine. You win. Now let me go and we’ll call it even,” said Basil.
Hogg shook the container, slamming Basil against the walls. “Shut up.” Then he turned to Brin. “Basil Bunny Bubble.”
Brin laughed, but it came out sadder than he wanted it to. He wanted nothing more than to sink down to the ground. Now that the danger had passed, all he could think about was the burning, open wounds all over his body. Instead, he summoned the last dregs of the [Scarred One], smiled, and said, “A Basil Bunny Battle Bubble for the Basil Bunny Battle. I thought you told me that you weren’t sure if you could beat him.”
“That was before I had a few days to come up with a valid counter-strategy,” said Hogg.
“You’re not going to do it,” said Basil. His cut fabric slowly started to mend itself. He stayed slumped on the floor of his bubble, but Brin didn’t fail to notice the way that his torn leg was reattaching itself. “You wouldn’t bother capturing me if you were really going to kill me.”
“Don’t misunderstand. Killing something like you isn’t that easy. If even one thread remains you can rebuild yourself. That’s why I had Calisto make me this.” He pulled a green vial out of his overcoat. “This potion removes enchantments from fabric. It’s a poison, specifically designed to kill Basil Bunny.”
“A bottle of Basil Bunny bane,” Brin noted.
“Basically,” said Hogg.
Hogg handed Brin the potion. “Brin, be a brave boy and bring the Basil Bunny bane bottle to the Basil Bunny battle bubble.”
Brin chuckled, and found it wasn’t forced at all. The silly word game was actually making him feel a bit better, and this kind of silly, nonchalant send-off was exactly what Basil deserved.
He opened the lid and stepped forward. “If I’m going to pour this Basil Bunny bane bottle for the Basil Bunny battle into the Basil Bunny battle bubble then I’ll need to breach the Basil Bunny battle bubble with the Basil Bunny bane bottle.”
“Place the Basil Bunny bane bottle onto the Basil Bunny battle bubble, and the bubble will let it in. It’s quite bibulous.”
“Fine. I’m placing the Basil Bunny bane bottle onto the bibulous Basil Bunny–”
“You can’t do this!” Basil shrieked. His voice grew louder, enough to hurt the ears, taking on a resonant tone that seemed to make the sound penetrate the entire world. “STOP SITTING AROUND YOU IDIOTS AND HELP ME! ATTACK! EVERYONE ATTACK!”
“Do it,” said Hogg. Brin was so deafened by Basil’s shout that he saw the words on his lips rather than hearing them.
He placed the vial on top of Hogg’s sphere, and it sank inside. Hogg shook the bubble again, slamming him back and forth at top speed. The vial smashed against the sides of the bubble, and sizzled and foamed when it touched Basil’s fabric.
“HELP! HELP, THEY’RE KILLING ME! OH! Oh, no no no. Mama is going to be so upset. Mama…”
Basil’s voice quieted as the poison did its work. Hogg kept shaking. The poison melted him away until nothing was in the sphere except a frothy, sizzling liquid.
A full minute after Brin thought Basil was completely gone, they finally got the notification.
Congratulations! You have defeated: Basil the Bunny [61] Experience split between party members based on contribution.
Level up! Level 21 -> 22 +5 Strength +1 Dexterity, +2 Vitality, +2 Magic, +3 Mental Control, +1 Will, +2 free attributes.
“Just one level?” asked Brin.
“You don’t get experience for executing prisoners,” said Hogg. “You only got that much for pointing and for slowing him down a bit with your sticky glass. I got a level, though, and I don't come by those very often anymore.”
“Why not fire, by the way?” asked Brin.
“Fire is expected. If he didn’t have near perfect fire resistance, then he had some other trick; I’d bet my eye. Poisonous fumes, maybe.” He fished around inside his overcoat and brought out the Healing Potion. “Here.”
Brin pushed it away. “Save it for when we need it. I’ll use that cream you have for stopping the bleeding on small cuts. Really! I feel surprisingly good. Very limber, like after a good massage.” He actually felt completely terrible, but his injuries weren’t life threatening. He just needed to sit down. Again, he couldn’t, not while Hogg was here worrying about him instead of out there protecting the town.
As if on cue, the ringing in his ears receded enough to hear a different ringing, an alarm bell. There was shouting. Then, the clash of steel. The town was under attack.
The End of Part 2
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