The Zombie Knight

Vito Sebolt had never faced such odds. But Kerikos certainly had. And as they activated the hyper-state of pan-forma, all of the reaper’s memories and experience became his own.

Unfortunately, those things still did not fill him with confidence. If anything, Kerikos’ memories only served to reinforce how bad this situation actually was.

But oh well. Better to have the knowledge than not. At least now they were able to decide quickly on their best course of action here.

They knew there were plenty of other allied servants here in Livingston. They’d already sensed and even witnessed some of them fighting.

So it was just a matter of leading the fight over to some of those other warriors.

Easier said than done, perhaps. Especially when they couldn’t allow any of these Abolish bastards to get near the Prince or any of the other non-combatants. Not to mention, if those other warriors weren’t already rushing over to help him, then it was doubtless because they already had their hands quite full.

Regardless, Vito and Kerikos didn’t have the luxury of time to mull things over. They had to give the Abolishers something to think about.

And with Vito’s lutetium transfiguration, the first tactic that entered their minds was a horizontal shower of bright red fireballs.

They would have to sacrifice considerable body mass in order to cover so many enemies at once, but that was where pan-forma’s near-instant regeneration became extremely helpful.

The room roared to life with a red wave of flaming lutetium, filling the entire missing wall in seconds. The debris all over the floor caught fire instantly and began to melt or burn.

After that, the fighting slowed, as perhaps the attackers had begun to think twice about continuing to charge in at Vito, who still did not budge from the doorway.

David could still hear gunfire in the distance, along with more screaming, but it was the rumbling that was truly unsettling. Explosions? Invasive meteorite impacts? He wasn’t sure which to be more worried about.

Another large quake arrived, pulling unsettled dust out of the ceiling and making the Prince wonder if it was about to cave in on their heads. Thankfully, it held strong, but he saw Vito holding onto the doorframe and struggling to stay on his feet.

Then the door and the wall around it exploded, and Vito went flying backward through a cloud of debris. In the wall’s place, a great horizontal mass appeared, some kind of long and flat boulder, though it did not stay long. It seemed to disintegrate among the dirt and rubble, but David did not understand how or why. Nor did he much care. He was far more concerned about Vito, who’d left a giant hole in the wall on the other side of the room.

“Come on out, you rich little piggies!” came a booming voice. “Don’t make your poor lapdogs give their lives for you! We’re here for a good time, not a long time! If you can amuse us with your pathetic begging, then we’ll spare your lives and be on our way!”

David’s heart was in his throat as he listened. This was all too familiar. Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions with far too little information, but it seemed suddenly quite obvious who these attackers were.

More maniacs from Abolish. He’d gotten to know their ilk better than he’d ever wanted to.

It had taken only a handful of them to occupy Atreya and manipulate the entire country, and he was getting the distinct impression that there were far more of them here, now.

David’s eyes were locked on the giant hole that Vito had flown through. He didn’t know what to do other than hope for his young bodyguard to reappear.

And reappear he did.

A metallic hand gripped the edge of the hole with an audible crack, and Vito pulled himself through the opening, looking shinier and more silver than ever. His left arm was twisted in the wrong direction, and his neck seemed to be bent a little far to the right, but they soon corrected themselves.

More gunshots rang out--much closer this time--and they didn’t stop, either. David heard the hail of bullets whizzing through the air, and he ducked without thinking.

Then Vito was suddenly behind him, standing tall, and David instead heard the sound of bullets ricocheting off of metal. But only briefly. Because Vito returned fire and began shoving both David and Victor toward the open doorway on their right.

They reached the room and found another group of people already there, all looking terrified as they huddled behind a line of desks by the far wall.

The gunfire didn’t stop, and Vito didn’t stop pushing them until they were deeper into the room and behind a thick desk of their own.

When a strange man charged through the doorway after them, Vito met him head on.

Everything happened so fast that David’s eyes struggled to process it. The stranger was already firing as Vito closed in and grabbed the gun, blocking the barrel with his hand as if the bullets exploding out of it were no more deadly than foam darts.

The stranger swung on him. Vito dodged and countered with a right hook that sent him back through the door he’d just entered, taking part of the frame and wall with him.

Another figure appeared to take the previous challenger’s place. This one seemed to be a woman, but Vito showed no hesitation, grappling her in an instant and twisting her head off like a plucked watermelon. Her body dropped to the floor, and when another man arrived, Vito brained him with her severed head.

David merely watched with wide eyes, unable to look away.

Vito didn’t leave the doorway, even as another hail of gunfire visibly pelted the walls around it. Thankfully, only a few of the bullets seemed to be breaking through, but Vito spared a glance back in their direction, probably to make sure they were staying low like he’d said.

Did he have metal skin? David could still hear the pinging of ricochets, and there was definitely a shimmer there that the Prince hadn’t noticed before.

Vito returned fire again, but he soon ran out of bullets and had to reload. He didn’t seek cover, though, and when still another man sprinted over to interrupt him, Vito pistol whipped the guy, swept his feet, and then caved his skull in with the heel of his boot.

“I believe it may be an attack,” said Vito, calmer now.

“An attack?” David’s head reared back. “What makes you say that?”

“Call it a hunch, lord. Please do not leave my side.”

He certainly hadn’t been planning to.

Victor scrambled over from the other room. “Did you guys feel that? I’ve never--”

Another quake arrived, stronger than the previous two combined. Paintings fell off the walls, and a vase in the corner crashed to the floor while David just held onto the bed, trying not to fly off.

When everything finally settled again, the room was in shambles, and David saw a giant fissure running up through one of the walls.

Vito was already next to the bed, helping the Prince up. “We should get out of here, lord. Please follow me.”

“A-alright...” David was trying to remain calm. Emergency scenario. Was he forgetting anything? If he never returned to this room, was there anything he needed from it? Tablet, phone, shoes, wallet, royal pendant. All good. Coat? Hat? Briefcase? Not sure. He grabbed those last three, just in case.

Then they were on the move. Vito led the way while David made sure Victor was still behind them.

Gigantic windows along the inner hallway provided a view of one of Livingston’s several courtyards, and through them, David saw a smoldering mountain, looking like a fallen meteorite.

What in the world? He wanted to stop and stare, but apparently, his feet knew better and kept going. He thought he saw figures among the smoke. Were they appearing out of the meteorite?

Screams in the distance. Several at once. All cut short.

David’s blood ran cold.

People filled the corridor now, most running in the same direction as them, until yet another quake made everyone stumble.

David could hardly process what was happening now. Too much shaking. He was on his hands and knees. Trying to get up as the trembling abated. Vito was there again, helping him.

Bless this kid.

Victor? Already up, too. Good on him.

Then a wall ahead of them exploded, and David spotted shapes moving quickly through the dust and debris--and not in unison, either. They bounced and clashed off of one another, and he heard the sound of clanging metal and gunshots ring out. Along with more screams.

“Okay, maybe we shouldn’t go that way,” said Vito, looking around.

“How can anyone stand to live in a place like this?” said Victor.

“What do you mean?” said David. “I find it terribly charming here. So much beauty and history rolled together for all to admire, even in the small hours of the night.”

“...Prince David, sir, are you secretly a vampire?”

The Prince just chortled.

“You didn’t lure me here just to kill me, right?” said Victor.

“Of course not, my dear boy. I have to feed you and fatten you up, first.”

Now Victor laughed. “Hold on. I thought vampires only drank blood.”

“Ah, yes. Well, perhaps I’m trying something new.”

Eventually, they arrived at the Embassy. It was a comparatively modest set of chambers, including an office, a small meeting room, and then David’s private quarters in back.

He’d seen much more extravagant accommodations given to other countries’ representatives, but he could not complain. Nor did he wish to. These were just about perfect for him. Anything more would have been a waste of space, he felt. Perhaps Vito might have preferred a bit more room so that he didn’t have to sleep on the fold-out couch in the office, but if so, the young man had been keeping those feelings to himself, even at David’s prodding.

David directed Victor to the office, where the boy could use the computers as he pleased, once David logged in for him. The Prince wasn’t concerned about Victor seeing any sensitive information on there, because he’d barely been using those devices. He much preferred his personal tablet and government-issued phone.

He stayed with the kid for a while longer and continued to chat, then retired to his bedroom. It was still far too early in the day for sleep, but there was plenty of news to scroll through on the internet.

He didn’t get the chance, however, because just as he was going to sit down on his bed, the ground shook with such force that he practically fell on top of it, instead.

David sat up in a rush, attempting to make sense of what had just happened. An earthquake? Andayel didn’t get earthquakes.

He moved to stand, but then another tremor arrived, not quite as strong as the last one but still enough to give him pause.

Not more than a few moments later, he saw Vito in the open doorway. “Lord Prince, are you alright?!”

“I’m absolutely fine, Vito, but thank you for your concern. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Even now, after all these months of being shadowed by the man, David still did not know much about Vito’s abilities, but it was at least clear that the new Lord of Warrenhold had not chosen this man thoughtlessly. Vito did not speak very much, even when spoken to, but David was quite confident that he was taking this job very seriously.

It had become something of an ongoing project for David: trying to crack through that wall of stoicism. Plus, it was an opportunity to learn more about the fabled Rainlords of Sair. He’d already known a fair amount about the Sandlords of Sair, thanks to his brother Meriwether’s marriage to Nasira Saqqaf, but the Rainlords had always been comparatively more mysterious. As far as he knew, Atreya had never had any formal relations with them, so in some sense, this young bodyguard here was making history.

If only he could convince Vito to see it that way. Maybe he’d be more talkative.

For the moment, however, David remained entirely focused on his other young friend as they entered Livingston together. The great antechamber was so large that it could have easily handled hundreds more entrants--and frequently did so, he knew. Despite how many people he saw around, the place still managed to feel somewhat empty.

It was a long trek to the Atreyan Embassy, but thankfully, the seemingly endless hallways had travelators to make the journey easier. Victor continued gawking the whole way, and David didn’t blame him. At every intersection, there seemed to be yet another opulent thing to stare at and admire. A Pre-Imperial statue of the God of Death. A gigantic painting of Arcanus Daris, the first Mohssian Emperor. A golden chandelier the size of a truck. Another Pre-Imperial statue of the Goddess of Relief, joined by an angel holding a sleeping baby in swaddling clothes.

That one was particularly famous, as was the scene it depicted. David had seen it many times throughout his life, in almost every medium of artistry imaginable, but he felt that the statue might have been his favorite, even if he personally harbored little-to-no love for religion in general.

It was the scene of the Goddess Xixa and the Archangel Maximillius allowing the God of Death to be born into the world in order to ease the suffering of mortals.

For his part, though, Prince David did not mind staying here in the slightest. Thus far, several months into his ambassadorship, the castle’s ominous reputation had still not touched him one bit, nor did he ever expect it to. In the first place, he did not buy into such superstitions, but even if he did, there was no reason to think they would apply to foreign visitors.

Plus, the food here was spectacular.

If anything, it was hard to pull himself away from this place. That was one of the reasons why he’d been trying to hold his meetings at various restaurants in town: to force himself to leave. To not stay cooped up in the lap of luxury.

Also, there was just... something about Livingston. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Food aside, he simply found this place very comfortable. He wasn’t sure why. He slept soundly at night, felt a great peace in the extravagant gardens, and quite enjoyed the beautiful sunsets from the top floors. Thankfully, the sky-bending towers of downtown Andeyal did not entirely wall those off. In fact, he felt they might’ve been enhancing them with their shimmering windows.

As he stepped out of the vehicle, David noticed the young Victor gawking at the magnificent building in front of them. “First time here?” said the Prince.

“Y-yes... it’s, um... much more intimidating in person...”

“Think so?” David took a moment to share in the view, in the tall, black-lined windows with sharp, pointed apexes, almost like spikes. The walls had a repeating pattern of gray-on-darker-gray stones, and the steep rooftops with long eaves created some rather heavy shadows, even during the middle of the day like this. “What’s so intimidating about it?”

The young man turned to him. “Is that a joke? Just look at it.”

David did so. And then shrugged. “I think it looks quite majestic.”

Victor blinked. “W-well, yes, it does, b-but...”

More vehicles were arriving behind them, stopping curbside in order to drop passengers off. David was now at a point where he could recognize some of the faces coming and going, but only some. Livingston was always abuzz with activity, and keeping track of so many different people was no easy thing.

His own car drove off to go find a parking spot, but he knew the driver would not be leaving him alone for long. That was his bodyguard, Vito, and David had come to realize that even when the fellow wasn’t immediately present, he was still watching.

Victor gave him a skeptical look, however. “Is that the truth, sir? A man your age is still uncertain of his beliefs?”

David’s head reared back, and he couldn’t help snickering. “Excuse me, but please leave my age out of this. I do not believe I’ve said anything so offensive as to justify such a scathing attack on my person.”

“Ah... my apologies, sir.”

“Heh. I forgive you. You are young and stupid, after all.”

That earned a snort from the lad. “Sir, please. Hypocrisy misbecomes you.”

“You think so? Then why do I feel so much better?”

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination. Livingston Grand Castle was an ancient structure and incomparably gigantic, having been repeatedly expanded upon since the middle years of the Mohssian Empire. King William surely could have told him every detail of its long history, but David was only aware of its more infamous tales.

It had a strange reputation, this place. Having been built during the empire’s so-called Golden Era, it was meant to be a demonstration of the emperor’s unmatched power and wealth. But the construction had been plagued by endless turmoil, and that very same emperor died long before it was completed. The story went that the emperor had been on a tour of the construction site just as the second floor was being built, and then a stone--supposedly no bigger than a baseball--fell from a worker’s grasp, bounced off a wall, and landed squarely atop the emperor’s bald head, killing him instantly.

Apparently, the emperor’s retainers didn’t even realize what had happened for quite some time, because the blow did not appear that deadly. The man even remained on his feet. And since touching him without his expressed permission was a taboo punishable with execution, none dared to confirm his death for hours, until they were finally able to fetch his favorite wife to do the job.

Ever since the castle’s inauspicious beginnings, rumors abounded that this place was cursed--and by extension, so too was the empire. As such, multiple emperors had chosen not to live here, but each time one did so, some great misfortune seemed to befall him within a decade of his rule, typically resulting in his death.

And so the rumors grew. Until eventually, Livingston Grand Castle acquired a rather notorious moniker.

‘The Burden of Rule’ was what many had come to call it. To live in it was dangerous, but to ignore it was deadly.

Victor made no response, though David did spot a small smile on his face.

And again, the Prince found himself struggling to keep up the conversation. He supposed he shouldn’t try to force it. Perhaps just giving the young fellow some peace and quiet was better, anyway. He’d never considered himself very good at keeping his mouth shut, but perhaps on this occasion, he shouldn’t be considering himself at all.

He let the silence linger. It was still a ways to Livingston, but oh well.

At length, however, Victor decided to speak up on his own. “Prince David, sir... um...”

“Yes?”

“...Have you ever... um... have you ever lost someone close to you?”

Ah. So we were going in this direction, were we? Oh, boy. Truth be told, David never much cared for talking about his own past, but he supposed if there was ever a time for it, it would be now.

The Prince took a long, slow breath before finally answering. “I have, indeed. Most recently, my brothers.”

“Brothers?” said Victor. “As in, multiple?”

“Yes. I am one of eight children. And last year, four of my brothers were killed.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I can’t even imagine...”

“Yes, well... it was a complicated matter with... complicated emotions. Saying that we were close would perhaps be an overstatement. But... we had our moments.” He wondered if he should also mention that he’d essentially lost a fifth brother as well, considering the fact that Luther had been imprisoned for murdering the other four.

But he decided against it. He didn’t think the purpose of Victor’s question had been to hear about royal family drama.

In fact, with that in mind, perhaps bringing his brothers up at all had been the wrong call. Perhaps the death of his father would have been a more apt comparison?

Eh...

Well. He did have a different memory to pull from. It would probably be more fitting here, as well. But did he really want to talk about that? Especially with this young man he barely knew?

Not really.

“...Do you believe in an afterlife, sir?”

Agh. Wow. This hardly felt like the time to say that he didn’t. Somehow, that just seemed too disrespectful. So instead, he chose to soften his response. “I’m not sure what I believe.”

Victor’s gaze fell down to the floor of the car as he listened.

“He seemed particularly passionate about the current divide between the Moons and the Grands,” David went on. “I remember him telling me at length that the disparities between the two parties were more illusion than reality. ‘A demonstration for the masses,’ was how he put it. He said that unity between the two was not just possible but inevitable without constant intervention from those currently in power.” David chortled. “An interesting perspective, I thought.”

Victor still wasn’t looking back at him. He just chewed on his lip as he stared at the back of the driver’s seat in front of him.

The Prince wondered what might be going through the lad’s mind, right now. David wanted to keep talking about Charlie, but he was struggling. He only had so much to pull from. He wished he’d been able to talk to the boy more. “Ah... I remember thinking that he could have been a speechwriter, what with how strongly held some of his opinions were, and he told me that he hoped to become one, someday. Said he wasn’t experienced enough yet as a rhetorician--and that one of his friends had always been far better at it. Said he’d always been a bit envious of the fellow...”

Victor’s eyes widened a little, then he stopped chewing his lip and simply frowned. He shook his head and sighed.

David couldn’t help wanting to connect the dots. “He... hadn’t been talking about you, had he?”

The kid scratched his brow. “I don’t know... maybe...”

That sounded like a ‘yes’ to David. “Do you have an interest in becoming a speechwriter, too?”

“Mm... I wouldn’t turn the job down, but no, I wouldn’t say that was my overall goal. I’m more interested in drafting policy. Making real change happen.”

David felt he had to pick him up on that. “One could argue that persuasion is the only way that real change ever comes to pass. The legal agreements that follow might be considered more of a formality than a conducted change. Or, perhaps, an argument over semantics rather than the greater issues.”

The young man exhaled a curt breath. “Are you sure you only spoke with him a few times? You’re starting to sound just like him.”

“Heh. To my ears, that sounds like quite the compliment.”

“I’ve always found it curious,” said David. “With how much land Intar has at its disposal, one would think the greater imperative would be to build outward, not upward.”

“Intarians have always had a fascination with the sky,” said Victor. “Even back in the days of the Mohssian Empire, the people here were always building monuments as tall as humanly possible.”

“Ah, yes, I believe I’ve heard a little of that. Wasn’t there a formalized competition at one point?”

The kid nodded. “There was. Emperor Armadus III instituted it as a yearly tradition, and an entire festival grew around it. Then eventually, it became a minor holiday.”

“Cloudseeker Day,” said David.

“Oh, you know of it. I haven’t met many foreigners who did.”

“I lived here for a few years when I was younger,” said the Prince with a small smile. “But that still doesn’t sate my curiosity about the Intarian obsession with building upwards. Where does the interest in the sky originate? It’s an interesting element of your culture.”

“Oh, I see what you mean now. Yeah. I’ve always heard that the origins of our interest were a bit muddy. Some say one thing, others say something different.”

“I’ve heard that as well,” said David. “The most common theory seemed to involve religion. Cocora, specifically. The ancient Mohssians wanted to be closer to the Goddess of Light, so they reached for the Sun.”

“That’s the theory I like best,” said Victor. “There’s something romantic about it.”

“Heh. I can only agree.”

A lull in the conversation arrived, and David struggled for the next topic. Perhaps it was a bit early to be pushing for more detailed information, but he supposed there was no harm in asking the boy to talk. The lad could just say no, and that would be fine. There was no urgency here.

Not yet, at least.

“...Do you want to talk about Charlie?” said David.

Victor hesitated.

The Prince felt the need to clarify. “It is perfectly okay if you do not. I am merely offering an attentive ear, if you want one.”

Still, Victor remained quiet. Perhaps even he himself wasn’t sure what he wanted, right now.

Hmm. David thought for a moment. “...Well, perhaps I could talk about him, then. What little I was able to learn, at least. Would that be alright with you?”

The kid took a second, but he nodded.

“He seemed quite the energetic fellow. I only spoke with him, maybe... four times, but on each occasion, he certainly never had any trouble speaking his mind. I quite liked that about him.”

Victor eyed the vehicle. “I-I don’t know... I have a deposition in a couple days that I haven’t finished prepping for...”

Oh? Hmm. “Let me think. As I recall, your boss is... Senator Leoric, no?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure she will understand if you need to take some time off, right now. In fact, she might well force you to do so.”

“Ah... I very much doubt that, sir.”

The Prince tilted his brow. “Truly? I’ve heard the stories about her, but surely, she is not that much of a...” The words on the tip of his tongue were ‘slave-driving witch,’ but he changed them in favor of some new ones. “...Of a stern boss. Time off should be a matter of course after something like this, no?”

Victor gave him a look. His lips didn’t move, but his face said everything.

David didn’t force him to elaborate. “Well, in that case, you absolutely must come with me. You can make use of the embassy’s facilities to conduct your prep work, and if they prove insufficient, the greater castle around it has plenty more to offer. Including some quite luxurious spots, I must say.”

Victor still wasn’t saying anything, but his expression spoke of temptation.

The Prince started toward the car and opened the door, offering to let Victor get in first.

The kid looked like he was finally about to say something, but then he just hopped in.

David followed suit, told the driver their destination, and then they were off.

The tinted windows offered a now-very-familiar view of Andeyal, the Intarian capital city, as they sped down the road. The highways here very much lived up to their name, rising so far up into the air that entire office buildings could fit beneath--and often did. Many of the skyscrapers that filled the cityscape were nestled up right alongside the elevated roads, sometimes offering a surprisingly clear view into their mid-level offices.

The boy was still being quiet, so David had to be the one to revive the conversation. “These Intarian buildings of yours are something else,” he said as he craned his neck, staring out the window. “Every time I find myself on these roads, I’m tempted to bring a pair of binoculars and do some proper snooping. Perhaps try to discover exactly how many floors up we are.”

“...Depends on the building,” said Victor, “but this area’s about thirty. Highest I’ve seen was about fifty, I think.”

Prince David’s brow twitched at that reaction. “But perhaps his loss can be your gain,” he said. “I’ve just finished eating, but what say I buy you lunch, instead?”

“S-sir... that is a generous offer, but I feel I should inform you that... Charlie Rogerson is, um... well, he passed away this morning.”

Somehow, David did not feel nearly as shocked by this news as he probably should have. But appearing too calm here would do him no favors, either. “What?! What do you mean? What happened?”

Victor sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I’m still not quite sure I believe it, myself. But, um... he was in his bed, and he just... didn’t wake up. Which, I suppose actually means he passed away last night, not this morning... agh... I don’t know. It’s all been too much for me to process.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” said David. “I saw him not two days ago, and he seemed the very picture of health. Full of youthful zeal. I can hardly... imagine...”

Victor nodded. “I know, right? The paramedics said he was already gone by the time they arrived, but they couldn’t be sure of the cause of death yet and didn’t want to speculate. Our guess was... some freak aneurysm or something in his brain.”

“...Our?”

“Ah. Me and the other roommates. We were all in total shock. Hell, I think I still am.”

“Understandable. You’ve had one heck of a morning.”

Victor didn’t say anything and just kept rubbing his head with a distant look in his eyes.

Wow. Talk about a tough conversation to maintain. He did his best, though. “I didn’t realize you and Charlie were roommates.”

“Yeah... been that way since university...” Victor gave a solemn shake of his head. “He was just talking about moving out the other day, actually. Not anytime soon, but just as a future goal. I thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend or something...”

Oh boy. David looked around. The street was rather busy, and his car was still waiting for him. What to do here...?

Simple enough, he decided. He couldn’t just leave the poor kid here, not without at least offering something more elaborate in the form of condolences. He bumped the young man on the shoulder with one of his gloved hands. “It sounds like you might need a bit more than just lunch, right now.” He motioned to the blue-and-white sedan on the curb. “I was just headed back to my little embassy at Livingston. Would you like to tag along? See some of the sights? And I’ll still treat you to lunch, too, if you like.”

This particular diner was one of several that he had been using, of late. One thing he appreciated about his time in this melting pot of a country was the opportunity to sample all the different types of cuisine that it had to offer, especially here in the heart of its capital city.

But the problem with trying new things, of course, was that they weren’t always to his taste. So perhaps that was another reason for his foul mood, at the moment. He had not enjoyed his lunch, nor even the experimental dessert thereafter. The other meals he’d tried here had been exquisite, but that one...

Maybe Jesbolese food was simply not for him. Or maybe this otherwise excellent restaurant did not know how to prepare it. He supposed he would have to give it at least one more try in order to be sure.

At length, he decided that continuing to wait like this was pointless. The young paralegal that he’d been hoping to talk to had probably forgotten. The kid had seemed a bit airheaded, after all. Or just overwhelmed with work. It was strangely difficult to tell one from the other, sometimes.

He’d already paid, so he gathered up his things, put his coat on slowly, and then finally left.

Out on the street, he had a car waiting for him in order to take him back to the Livingston Grand Castle where he was but one of many resident ambassadors.

Before he even made it three steps to the car, however, a familiar face arrived in his vision--a face which brightened with recognition in return.

“Prince David,” said the young mustachioed man. A friendly smile crossed his lips, though it seemed rather muted when compared to how amicable David remembered this fellow to be. “A pleasure to see you again, sir.”

“Likewise,” said the Prince. This was not the same young man that he had been meant to have lunch with here today, but as David recalled, the two of them were coworkers. “Young Victor Branson the Paralegal. What a coincidence. Do you fancy this place, as well?”

“Ah... yes, sir, I do. I come here all the time. Their Jesbolese meatballs are to die for.”

David had to consciously avoid wincing at that remark, considering he’d just dined on exactly that meal and reached the exact opposite conclusion. “Heh. I see. You know, I was supposed to have lunch with Charlie, but he never showed up. I was hoping to pick his brain on a couple of subjects.”

Victor’s eyes widened. “Ah...”

Still, the orb remained silent.

Hector just let his words linger, feeling that he had said all he needed to.

Garovel was next to speak. ‘Damn, Hector. That even scared me a little.’

Impulsively, he wanted to apologize, but he caught himself, because he was certain that he had done the right thing. ‘This Mini-Candle here needs to realize that it doesn’t know everything and that we won’t be dancing to its tune. If I wasn’t here, it wouldn’t have attacked you, but instead, it would’ve tried to manipulate you.’

‘Oh? I suppose I’ll just have to trust your judgment on that one,’ said Garovel.

‘Think so?’ said Hector. ‘I’m betting you can at least feel its pull, though, can’t you? I mean, heck, you just admitted to being a power-hungry maniac, so you’re probably feeling pretty tempted to seize its power, aren’t you?’

‘H-hey, I thought we’d moved past that already...’

‘It was like one minute ago, Garovel.’

‘Well, time is not time, right? That means it’s actually ancient history.’

‘That’s not what that means at all.’

‘Also, I never called myself a maniac. I resent you using that term.’

‘Look, the point is, this thing would manipulate you into wielding its power and then probably turn it against you.’

‘Ah... am I to assume that is what happened to Worwal, then?’

‘I think so,’ said Hector. ‘And now we’re going to have this little guy undo what he did.’

‘Uh. What makes you think he even can?’

‘Because I’m gonna be real pissed off if he can’t.’

He felt the orb shudder again.

‘Huh. Well, my little orby friend... I forgive you for attacking me, since you’ve just been born ‘n all, but it would appear you’ve already gotten yourself into some hot water. Best of luck to you.’

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