And when the King was looking down, the Jester stole his thorny crown.
All these minstrels through the ages;
That is really all we are;
Simply singing for the girl;
That makes us try so very hard;
To craft the perfect limerick;
To wield unending woe;
To write such silly songs;
And the difference never know.
I spread my hands in mocking supplication to the Rain King, making an over exaggerated bow.
Dumarkius only grinned in response, his gritted teeth all the more fierce framed by a fiery red goatee. Water flowed unnaturally from all directions, pooling at his feet. Though he was at least a handsbreadth shorter than I was, his presence dominated the corridor.
“You’ve grown some,” Dumarkius commented, as if chatting with an old friend, “You were just a gangly whelp last time I saw you, practically a child. Only sixteen seasons, but you were still a genius. My genius. So much potential for greatness, and yet you destroyed all that. The why of that day has always plagued me.”
“Just as dense as you ever were,” I responded, secretly satisfied at the grimace my insult elicited. Dumarkius’s ego was fragile, constantly inflated by his sniveling yes-men, and a well placed jab could throw the Rain King into state of distraction, which was my only chance of survival. “Never satisfied with the gifts you’ve been offered, you constantly reach for more. Without my aid you’d have still been some Pyrian mosquito, a pathetic thorn in their sides, a mere annoyance and nothing more. It was my strategies that brought you here, and protected you. But I am an impartial giver. When your daughter came to me, looking much as you had in Doell’aen, could I have denied her?”
“My Dupatelle was a princess, not some common wench to follow each fanciful whim that flitted its way into her empty head. She was to be married to a powerful Dialys noble, strengthen our kingdom, and cement my rule. Instead her sham headed mind became infatuated with that Pyrian rabble, and you in your infinite pre-pubescent wisdom enabled her.”
“The same pre-pubescent wisdom that kept you from getting crushed by your adversaries? The same wisdom that allowed Dupatelle to become a princess in the first place and not just the daughter of an impotent rebel? Your signet ring was my gift to give and the disguise, well, that was her idea. I am a problem solver Dumarkius, and I solved her problem, just as I did yours. She was in love…”
“She was a fool!” spat Dumarkius, his thick neck quivering in rage, “And so are you, bringing those pine loving Crysters here, through all of my back doors. The only talent you’ve ever possessed is betrayal!”
“And your only flaw is you always underestimate those you consider least. The Crystalysians were an ax waiting to fall while you pursued your obsession with the Pyrians. I was merely an instrument of guidance. Your era is over.”
As if to punctuate my statement, a resounding crash thundered down the hall, accompanied by the gruff shouts of the Frozen Blade soldiers. Dumarkius’s eyes flicked to the side and that was all I needed to let a dagger fly. Just as it pierced the Rain King’s flesh left of his sternum, the region went transparent. My blade sliced through his body harmlessly, the liquid space reverting back to flesh.
“Is the whelp trying to sting?” the Rain King scoffed, “My mastery of Water Form is such that I needn’t become a puddle every time I utilize it. I hope those Cryster flakes are grateful that their pawn gave his life for another kingdom’s victory.”
His right hand clenched into a fist, the First Shard emanating a flowing blue light from the gauntlet it was set in. The water that had been pooling at Dumarkius’s feet now leapt up in obedience to the Rain King, swirling around his upraised arm in fierce spirals. Completely out of options, I darted down the corridor, Dumarkius’s booming laughter pursuing me. I was desperate to escape any way I could. A shard wielder would be far too dangerous in a defensive fight. Sammei had to be notified to sound the retreat and hope to coax Dumarkius out into the open.
The roaring sound of rushing water filled my ears as the Rain King unleashed his attack. I didn’t spare a risky glance behind me, certain of an impending wave, ready to crush me against the wall. I caught sight of a small branching archway to my right and ducked inside. The wooden wall I had been facing splintered as the wave reached it, shards of wood cascading around the corner. Racing ever faster, I only discovered that this was also a dead end, a short access hallway for the bell ringer. Feeling the salty spray of the fast pursuing water, I bounded up to grasp hold of the thick knotted rope, the gong of Vasser Vitae’s bell echoing as I swung. Clambering to stay above the rising water, I reached hand over hand, pulling myself up the bell tower.
I was nearly confidant of my escape when a meaty hand clenched around my throat, its iron grasp crushing my windpipe. Dumarkius was rising like a god to address his followers, a steady geyser as his footstool. Stepping out of the apex of the bell onto the roof of his fortress, the Rain King clucked in disapproval of Vasser Vitae’s frozen fountain. I could only squirm and flop in Dumarkius’ grasp like a fish out of water. His brow furrowed in concentration, focusing his outstretched arm on the city’s water source. The First Shard blazed on the Rain King’s wrist like sunlight under the sea. A rumble emanated from deep within the bowels of the fortress, resonating upward in an ominous hum. Stone and ice shattered alike from the pressure Dumarkius had released, the fountain flowing twice as vast as before. Erratic jets sprayed our platform in rainbow tinted mists.
The Rain King tossed me haphazardly on the shingled ledge below, his smile widening to a haughty grin. Dumarkius closed his eyes, raising his thick arms in a triumphant pose and letting the drizzle bath his body. “Behold and bear witness, kings and fools, gods and beggars. The might of the sea is again victorious. Who can stand against its relentless tide, its endless flow? All will be claimed in the name of the great sea, in the Name of Dumarkius. Those who once scorned with be overrun, those who ignored will be overtaken, and those who betrayed, oh those who have betrayed, they will feel the might of the ocean’s depths, the incessant fear of eternal drowning, till no one again defies the Rain King!”
I gasped for breath, both hands grasping my bruised throat as Dumarkius’s sonorous voice boomed from the rooftops. Sparing a glance upward, I could see that his grin had quickly turned insidious, the mists coalescing into a swirling sphere suspended above the Rain King’s fist. The current of Dumarkius’s projectile gained speed and size, it’s core so dense and dark it was almost black. Knowing that every second was vital, I reached back into my rucksack, my hand clasping a belljar identical to the one I had sold to the Crystalysian citizen in Azuhara’s Keep. I flung it upward to the startled Dumarkius, whose instinctive reaction was to unleash his elemental attack prematurely. The swift current of the sphere shattered the glass, releasing the furry creature imprisoned within. Its beady eyes blinked in anger and confusion. Swinging its oversized arms around, it quickly summoned a protective encasement of swirling winds. The dust demon’s innate ability was potent enough to give Dumarkius’s projectile pause and it quickly became apparent that neither side was going to give.
The two elements began to fuse, their shapes morphing as they became unstable. I feebly covered my head with both arms and winced into the ensuing explosion, radiating outward to engulf both the King and myself in its terrible wake. I felt as if the hand of a giant had lifted my light frame upward before slamming me forcefully into the slant of a nearby roof. Waves of water and wind raked over me in equal measure, to the point that I wasn’t entirely sure if I was wet or dry. As I tumbled, I glimpsed the great bell as it was wrenched from its mooring and crashing into the same roof as I, an eruption of shingles, sea spray and sound. The enormous brass campana pealed overhead before toppling over the quickly approaching ledge.
My numb fingers scrambled around the slick surface, desperate for something to grasp ahold of. The only thing I could reach before plummeting off the ledge was the knotty rope of the bell, which I clung to in futile hope.
Shelter me oh genius words;
Just give me strength;
To pen these things;
Give me peace to weld her wings;
And oh, oh carry on, all you minstrels of the world;
We will catch our lady's ear;
We will win for us the girl.
That is really all we are;
Simply singing for the girl;
That makes us try so very hard;
To craft the perfect limerick;
To wield unending woe;
To write such silly songs;
And the difference never know.
I spread my hands in mocking supplication to the Rain King, making an over exaggerated bow.
Dumarkius only grinned in response, his gritted teeth all the more fierce framed by a fiery red goatee. Water flowed unnaturally from all directions, pooling at his feet. Though he was at least a handsbreadth shorter than I was, his presence dominated the corridor.
“You’ve grown some,” Dumarkius commented, as if chatting with an old friend, “You were just a gangly whelp last time I saw you, practically a child. Only sixteen seasons, but you were still a genius. My genius. So much potential for greatness, and yet you destroyed all that. The why of that day has always plagued me.”
“Just as dense as you ever were,” I responded, secretly satisfied at the grimace my insult elicited. Dumarkius’s ego was fragile, constantly inflated by his sniveling yes-men, and a well placed jab could throw the Rain King into state of distraction, which was my only chance of survival. “Never satisfied with the gifts you’ve been offered, you constantly reach for more. Without my aid you’d have still been some Pyrian mosquito, a pathetic thorn in their sides, a mere annoyance and nothing more. It was my strategies that brought you here, and protected you. But I am an impartial giver. When your daughter came to me, looking much as you had in Doell’aen, could I have denied her?”
“My Dupatelle was a princess, not some common wench to follow each fanciful whim that flitted its way into her empty head. She was to be married to a powerful Dialys noble, strengthen our kingdom, and cement my rule. Instead her sham headed mind became infatuated with that Pyrian rabble, and you in your infinite pre-pubescent wisdom enabled her.”
“The same pre-pubescent wisdom that kept you from getting crushed by your adversaries? The same wisdom that allowed Dupatelle to become a princess in the first place and not just the daughter of an impotent rebel? Your signet ring was my gift to give and the disguise, well, that was her idea. I am a problem solver Dumarkius, and I solved her problem, just as I did yours. She was in love…”
“She was a fool!” spat Dumarkius, his thick neck quivering in rage, “And so are you, bringing those pine loving Crysters here, through all of my back doors. The only talent you’ve ever possessed is betrayal!”
“And your only flaw is you always underestimate those you consider least. The Crystalysians were an ax waiting to fall while you pursued your obsession with the Pyrians. I was merely an instrument of guidance. Your era is over.”
As if to punctuate my statement, a resounding crash thundered down the hall, accompanied by the gruff shouts of the Frozen Blade soldiers. Dumarkius’s eyes flicked to the side and that was all I needed to let a dagger fly. Just as it pierced the Rain King’s flesh left of his sternum, the region went transparent. My blade sliced through his body harmlessly, the liquid space reverting back to flesh.
“Is the whelp trying to sting?” the Rain King scoffed, “My mastery of Water Form is such that I needn’t become a puddle every time I utilize it. I hope those Cryster flakes are grateful that their pawn gave his life for another kingdom’s victory.”
His right hand clenched into a fist, the First Shard emanating a flowing blue light from the gauntlet it was set in. The water that had been pooling at Dumarkius’s feet now leapt up in obedience to the Rain King, swirling around his upraised arm in fierce spirals. Completely out of options, I darted down the corridor, Dumarkius’s booming laughter pursuing me. I was desperate to escape any way I could. A shard wielder would be far too dangerous in a defensive fight. Sammei had to be notified to sound the retreat and hope to coax Dumarkius out into the open.
The roaring sound of rushing water filled my ears as the Rain King unleashed his attack. I didn’t spare a risky glance behind me, certain of an impending wave, ready to crush me against the wall. I caught sight of a small branching archway to my right and ducked inside. The wooden wall I had been facing splintered as the wave reached it, shards of wood cascading around the corner. Racing ever faster, I only discovered that this was also a dead end, a short access hallway for the bell ringer. Feeling the salty spray of the fast pursuing water, I bounded up to grasp hold of the thick knotted rope, the gong of Vasser Vitae’s bell echoing as I swung. Clambering to stay above the rising water, I reached hand over hand, pulling myself up the bell tower.
I was nearly confidant of my escape when a meaty hand clenched around my throat, its iron grasp crushing my windpipe. Dumarkius was rising like a god to address his followers, a steady geyser as his footstool. Stepping out of the apex of the bell onto the roof of his fortress, the Rain King clucked in disapproval of Vasser Vitae’s frozen fountain. I could only squirm and flop in Dumarkius’ grasp like a fish out of water. His brow furrowed in concentration, focusing his outstretched arm on the city’s water source. The First Shard blazed on the Rain King’s wrist like sunlight under the sea. A rumble emanated from deep within the bowels of the fortress, resonating upward in an ominous hum. Stone and ice shattered alike from the pressure Dumarkius had released, the fountain flowing twice as vast as before. Erratic jets sprayed our platform in rainbow tinted mists.
The Rain King tossed me haphazardly on the shingled ledge below, his smile widening to a haughty grin. Dumarkius closed his eyes, raising his thick arms in a triumphant pose and letting the drizzle bath his body. “Behold and bear witness, kings and fools, gods and beggars. The might of the sea is again victorious. Who can stand against its relentless tide, its endless flow? All will be claimed in the name of the great sea, in the Name of Dumarkius. Those who once scorned with be overrun, those who ignored will be overtaken, and those who betrayed, oh those who have betrayed, they will feel the might of the ocean’s depths, the incessant fear of eternal drowning, till no one again defies the Rain King!”
I gasped for breath, both hands grasping my bruised throat as Dumarkius’s sonorous voice boomed from the rooftops. Sparing a glance upward, I could see that his grin had quickly turned insidious, the mists coalescing into a swirling sphere suspended above the Rain King’s fist. The current of Dumarkius’s projectile gained speed and size, it’s core so dense and dark it was almost black. Knowing that every second was vital, I reached back into my rucksack, my hand clasping a belljar identical to the one I had sold to the Crystalysian citizen in Azuhara’s Keep. I flung it upward to the startled Dumarkius, whose instinctive reaction was to unleash his elemental attack prematurely. The swift current of the sphere shattered the glass, releasing the furry creature imprisoned within. Its beady eyes blinked in anger and confusion. Swinging its oversized arms around, it quickly summoned a protective encasement of swirling winds. The dust demon’s innate ability was potent enough to give Dumarkius’s projectile pause and it quickly became apparent that neither side was going to give.
The two elements began to fuse, their shapes morphing as they became unstable. I feebly covered my head with both arms and winced into the ensuing explosion, radiating outward to engulf both the King and myself in its terrible wake. I felt as if the hand of a giant had lifted my light frame upward before slamming me forcefully into the slant of a nearby roof. Waves of water and wind raked over me in equal measure, to the point that I wasn’t entirely sure if I was wet or dry. As I tumbled, I glimpsed the great bell as it was wrenched from its mooring and crashing into the same roof as I, an eruption of shingles, sea spray and sound. The enormous brass campana pealed overhead before toppling over the quickly approaching ledge.
My numb fingers scrambled around the slick surface, desperate for something to grasp ahold of. The only thing I could reach before plummeting off the ledge was the knotty rope of the bell, which I clung to in futile hope.
Shelter me oh genius words;
Just give me strength;
To pen these things;
Give me peace to weld her wings;
And oh, oh carry on, all you minstrels of the world;
We will catch our lady's ear;
We will win for us the girl.