Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 (12 page)

“The lord and lady do
protest too much methinks.”

In honor of his
homecoming, and to change the subject, they allowed Eric to choose the place.
He decided instantly and led them there.

Seig's Bistro held
special memories for him. It was a two-story building made of brick and mortar.
It was perpetually damaged due to happy hour brawls. He could close his eyes
and it would all come back to him.
It's good to be home
...

Crash! During his
stroll down Memory Lane, he bumped into a waiter and his tray of drinks
clattered to the floor. Shocked and apologetic, Eric did the first thing that
came to mind.

 “Instead of water
drops from milky pour, heat from cheeks will clean the floor! Fire Clean!”

 He pointed at the
puddle and his fire spell evaporated it. He also scorched the floor underneath
it, but there were already plenty of those.

“Thanks for –” The
waiter trailed off as he looked up. “You're Eric Watley, aren't you?”

“You know me?”

“Everyone knows you!
You rescued Her Royal Majesty, won the New Scepter magic competition, defeated
Duke Selen the Betrayer –”

“We helped!” Tiza
insisted.

Nolien put a hand on
her shoulder. “Let it go.” The fighter crossed her arms and pouted.

“He's really not that
big a deal,” said another waiter. “He was only Dengel Tymh's vessel. The Great
Master did all that stuff, not this sell staff.”

Eric scowled. “Excuse
me, but I was Dengel's
landlord.
The 'Great Master' was nothing but a
talking book in my head. I was the one mucking in sewers, fighting monsters,
and casting magic!”

The waiter looked with
disdain. “It must have been
so
difficult with one of the greatest mages
in history guiding your every move.”

“Are you calling me a
puppet
!?”

The waiter turned
sideways. “If the shoe fits...”

Nolien stepped into his
personal space with a scant millimeter between them. “Dengel betrayed the
nation to Duke Esrah,” he said with the voice of a judge. “Eric defeated him.”

The waiter stepped
backwards and averted his gaze, but still replied, “The report said the duel
was in his own mind. What loser
couldn't
win there?”

Eric was about to make
a witty retort, then realized he didn't have one. Everyone, regardless of their
spiritual power, was the ruler of their own mind. Even someone as pathetic as
he
used to be
, would have a hard time losing there.

A third waiter stopped
by and asked, “Bob, what's the hold up?”

The second turned him
gratefully and said, “This is Eric Watley.”

His order forgotten, he
asked again, “Dengel's vessel? I thought he disappeared! Wasn't it something
along the lines of Dengel's power being too much for him, so he vanished into
thin air?”

“I heard he tried one
of Dengel's spells and it backfired.”

“
Excuse me!
But I
was taken by –”

The manager walked over
and said, “Bob, Rob, Sebastian! Why are you standing around?”

“We're talking to
Dengel's vessel.”

Like his subordinates,
the manager was immediately engrossed by the celebrity's appearance. He forgot
about work and joined his employees in their conversation.

 “You mean that kid he
used to win the New Scepter competition?”

“I did that on my own!”
Eric shouted, then added softly, “He did help...a little.”

“Look!” Nolien shouted,
“It's Angelica Forline!”

Four heads spun so fast
Eric heard a crack and, while they were distracted, the trio escaped upstairs.

This floor was reserved
for warriors. As the restaurant was part of Warrior Town, warriors were its
chief patrons and were treated accordingly – usually. It was made of sterner
stuff than the floor below and decorated to accommodate them. For instance,
there were napkins for cleaning their weapons in addition to keeping their laps
clean. Eric slumped into a booth and hunched over the table.

“Vessel...
vessel
!”
he muttered angrily. “Is
that
what they're calling me!?”

It is appropriate.

Eric punched him, but
to his companions, he was punching thin air. They shared a look.

“Well...” Nolien began
uneasily. “...you know how truth gets distorted as it travels from its
source...and Dengel's name is so much bigger than yours, so...”

“They think I was his
puppet,” Eric said.

“Weren't you?” Tiza
asked seriously.

Eric opened his mouth
but caught himself. His hands became fists, his teeth clenched, and his throat
strained. He settled for grumbling and letting his head fall back against a
seat cushion.

“Eric, are you ready to
order?” Nolien asked. Eric lifted his head and saw a waiter standing in front
of him expectantly.

“Huh? Oh...right...I'll
have drumsticks.” 

When the food arrived,
all Eric could do was pick at it. He'd lost his appetite.
Is that what
everyone thinks? The puppet of a better man?
The words of the waiter came
back to him, infiltrating his thoughts like a burrowing parasite.
“What kind
of a loser couldn't win in their own mind?” 

While Eric sank into a
pit of self-loathing, Tiza snatched one of his drumsticks. “What?” she said to
Nolien's reproving look. “He obviously doesn't want 'em.” Nolien sighed.

Shadow Dengel appeared
behind him and whispered the past in his ear.

A lesser mage like
you should not attempt Elemental Fusion
...
It is fortunate that I taught
you that spell
... ‘
The guild shall be our home, and everyone in it shall
be family.’ What a farce
!

Eric grabbed his head
with both hands and plugged his ears, but the voice continued echoing.

 
If you object, then
try to take it from me
...
You NEED
me! You are NOTHING
without
me!

“I don't and I'm not!”
Eric shouted. “Leave me alone!”

The eyes of everyone on
the floor turned and stared. Nolien laughed nervously and told them his friend
ate something too spicy. He apologized for disturbing them and, one by one,
they returned to their lives. Eric laid his forehead in honey mustard,
painfully clutching his head.

 “Let me help you with
that.” Tiza wiped off the honey mustard with the drumstick she took from him
and took a bite out of it. “Hmm... still good.” 

“You know...” Nolien
said. “If you ever need to talk, we're here for you.”

“He's right, Dimwit,” Tiza
said through a mouthful of drumstick. “Don't forget, we're your friends as well
as your teammates.” She swallowed and reached for her drink.

 Eric stared out the
window at the darkening streets. For some reason, he'd rather be out there than
in the bright restaurant.

“I know and I
appreciate it, but you don't understand what it’s like. Having someone in your
head, their voice echoing, making you do thi –”

The glass shattered in
Tiza's hand. Its shards fell on her lap, but she casually brushed them off.

“Oops, guess I've been
training a little too hard.” She chuckled. “Good thing Tenderfoot's footing the
bill this time.” Then she burped long enough to turn nearby heads. Instead of
embarrassed, Nolien looked curious. “I'm gonna need another glass...” She
yelled for a waiter. “Sorry about that; guess I don't know my own strength.”

“No, I should thank you,”
the waiter said. “We've already lost five this week by demons. Now that you've
broken one, the manager should spring for reinforced carbon fiber.”

“You’re welcome. Do I
get a reward?”

Nolien nudged her and
said that wasn't necessary.

They passed the evening
catching up. Without Eric, his teammates were stuck with the lowest ranking
missions: they mowed lawns, ran errands, clipped orc toenails, and other grunt
work. When they spoke of picking herbs, Eric glanced at his hands and the tiny
scar on his right thumb. Half a year ago, it was bitten by a monster's beak and
throbbed for days. He was afraid it would be infected because he was using it
to shovel bird poop, but by now, it was a fond memory. Whenever he doubted
himself on Threa, he'd look at it and know he would be home someday.

I succeeded, but now
I have more problems. Dengel's shadow hovers over me and that Nulso creep is
after Annala. Unless I become stronger, I can't protect her.
His eyes
shined and his lips curved up.
If I became strong enough, my name would
surpass Dengel’s. If I create new magic, then I am no longer a student, and new
magic might defeat Nulso. Didn’t Annala say something about how chaos can
defeat order?

A family at the table
across the aisle stood up and left. They couldn't trust their food when a
mortal avatar of The Trickster sat across the aisle. When he started cackling,
it was common sense to pay their bill and leave.

Nolien paid for the
meal and at the restaurant’s threshold, Tiza spontaneously put Eric into a
chokehold and gave him a noogie. He chuckled. In
Tizanese,
that
translated to “affectionate hug.” She released him, turned on her heel, and
walked away. Nolien settled for the more formal “goodnight.” His heart light
and his belly full, Eric walked home.

On his way down the
stairs of Cutlass Bridge, he stopped to avoid something lying on them. It was a
human body sprawled across the steps and lying in brown liquid. By the smell,
he assumed it was vomit. Eric sighed and knelt beside the drunkard. A pub was
two blocks from his house, so drunkards often stumbled by and kept him awake
with their awful singing.

“Dere once was a boy
tamed Eric!” this one bellowed. “Who pad da beard of man famed Dengel! They
rusmed and kepsapom and dididldo! ... and Dengel had a much bigger hat!”

Eric breathed deeply
and stepped over the drunk, but he might have accidentally kicked him in the
head as his foot passed over. Then he opened the door and lost all control of
his anger.

“What are
you
still doing here!?”

Gruffle looked at him
over the rim of a book. “I live here.”

Eric slammed the door
and marched to the foot of the bed. A quick wind spell snatched the book away
from him and tossed it out a window. It made a “splosh” sound in the river.

“Not anymore! Not since
our duel!”

Nonplused, Gruffle
opened a second book. “The terms were that you could move in, not that I'd have
to move out.” He farted. “You don't mind, do you?”

The staff pulsed on
Eric's back and a humorously inappropriate punishment flashed in his mind. He
liked the idea and looked for something suitably painful he could use.

“Double or nothing.”

Gruffle reached for a
bowl of chips in a nightstand. “No thanks. I can't win against Dengel's vessel.
You'll use more of Dengel's spells and Dengel's tricks and Dengel's –”

Eric spun his staff out
of its strap and leveled the crystal at the intruder. “Say ‘Dengel’ one more
time and you'll spend the rest of your life as a pink poodle.”

Still, Gruffle
dismissed him. His only reaction was to turn a page. “Did Dengel teach you that
one too?”

Eric screamed and
slammed his fist on the desk. “Arm wrestling! As a troll, you should have the
advantage, or were you the runt of the litter?”

Finally, Gruffle put
the book down, walked over to the desk, and sat down across from Eric. The
human put his thin and fleshy elbow on the table while the troll put his larger
and stonier one next to it. They joined hands and Eric immediately regretted
his challenge.

 When humans have
hangnails, they're annoying; when a troll has them, they're like dull knives.
Between them and troll strength, Eric felt like he'd put his hand in a trash
compactor. Gruffle smirked as he pushed Eric's arm further and further back. He
enjoyed this far too much to let it end quickly. Then he made the mistake of
sneering at Eric.

 When he looked into
the darkness of the human's eyes, the darkness looked into him. It invaded his
soul and froze all thought in his mind. His heart skipped a beat and his wrist
slammed against the desk. The darkness vanished and he shook his head.

“Shadow!” He shook his
head again. “I mean, cheater!”

Eric pointed to the
door with his staff. “Consider it a lesson from your upperclassman.”

Gruffle reached for his
own weapon and brought it crashing down on Eric's head. It only smashed the
chair he was sitting on. It passed through Eric himself as if he wasn't there.
Someone blew a raspberry from behind him and when he looked over his shoulder,
he saw Eric.

“Lesson two: I set that
up while you were in a trance. Wanna go for three?” Gruffle jumped up and fell flat
on his face because his shoes were tied together. “Three it is, then: The
existence of one trick means there could be more.” Eric swung his crystal down
and gently tapped Gruffle's neck. “Lesson four is death. Care to learn it?”

The troll kept his head
down, as if in obeisance. “You are indeed the Trickster's Choice. You win. I'll
leave this apartment forever.” Eric stepped back and allowed Gruffle to untie
his shoes and stand up. He stopped at the doorway. “We'll meet again.”

As soon as he stepped
out, Eric solemnly closed the door and locked it. His journey did not end with
the journey itself. Trouble was waiting for him even here in the center of his
own place in the world, but now it was gone.
I can finally rest.

Just as he did in his
dream over a month ago, he basked in the glory of his humble home. The desk
where he studied magecraft was still there, but cluttered with troll junk. He
pushed it off and set
Introduction to Magecraft
in its place. The door
that was reinforced after thugs-in-royal-guard-clothing broke it down; he
traced his fingers over it and felt its strength. The scorch mark on the floor
next to the shower from when he tried to juggle fireballs. It was an experiment
to see if they were waterproof. The mantle that was really a support beam and
his treasures resting on top of it. Fear for these precious possessions plagued
him on the planet of his birth.