The Ruler of Ruin

I returned to the pit after the fight with Howlister. Claire and Chrys were off trying to make deals for equipment, leaving only Remy waiting for me. Our eyes met, and I noticed a hint of a feral beast lurked in Remy’s eyes. I had never noticed it, it was so well hidden underneath the pain and guilt.

“Eating people now?” Remy asked lightly, but the question held a weight that defied the airy way he’d spoken.

“I lost control. He smelled so good, and the more he got injured, the harder it was to ignore, until I couldn’t take it anymore. His flesh melted like butter in my mouth.” I whispered the last. Howlister had tasted amazing. He had perhaps been the single greatest thing I had ever taken a bite out of, and that made me feel like a monster.

“Everyone is someone’s food,” Remy said with a tired sigh. I stared at him, confused, until he met my eyes.

“Look, you aren’t the first person who’s left the True World and become something that they weren’t before they left. Things get complicated in the Gossamyr, and they get complicated fast. The Church of Mithras likes to talk about the circle of life, the proper order of the universe, the way things used to be, but we don’t live in that world Emery.” Remy fidgeted, and pulled a pipe from his spatial storage bag, and filled it with some dried herb before lighting it.

“So, what, it’s okay to eat people who are weaker than you?” I asked. I was having difficulty parsing what angle Remy wanted to take with this conversation, and I felt so mixed up inside that I half wanted him to just lecture me.

“Kiddo, you saw us butcher kobolds for their scales, just because the Alchemist Guild offered something shiny to Blaise. Adventurers aren’t heroes. We were the fetch boys for the Guilds and the Church, who use all the resources we bring them from the mists, all while they demonize the beings of the mist. According to the Church, folks like Howlister aren’t even people, just monsters to be killed for the safety of the True World. The Kobolds are components waiting to be harvested for the good of the True World. Folks like Amaranthine, they just exist to thwart Mithras and prevent the progress of the True World. Do you think any of that is true?”

Between words Remy took drags from his pipe, and exhaled puffs of smoke. Each one turned into a different animal, or human. The little smoke clouds fought, and when one vanquished another, it broke apart into nothing, dissipated.

“I don’t know. Probably not. Mithras is a real asshole, but he’s not the only one. I don’t think Amaranthine really cares about Mithras beyond Corvusol’s grudge with him, and even then its more like a chore.” I shrugged in frustration, unable to put together the words on how I felt. I didn’t think where you came from mattered much, being a monster was more about your actions, wasn’t it?

“Power can do some scary things to the mind,” Remy said. Blue-white flames took over the whole of his eyes for a brief moment while he said it. “And sometimes, the people around us can do some scary things to us. The Gossamyr isn’t like the True World. What we believe in matters, what other people believe matters, and if you say things enough, maybe they start to come true, yeah?” Remy seemed to try to lead me somewhere with his question, so I thought about it.

Since our arrival in this realm people had referred to me as a dragon more than ever. Dragon this, dragon that. Had expectations of a dragon’s nature forced me to go through a mental crisis? That seemed like an easy way to get out of any responsibility, blame others, and move on.

“So, we just abdicate all responsibility and blame it on the Gossamyr, and keep being worse versions of ourselves?” I didn’t think that was the angle Remy meant, but I wanted him to understand I wasn’t going to take the easy route of rationalizing my choices away, or to blame others for my actions.

“Some do. Change is hard. Takes a lot of bravery, commitment, and support. Run away, pretend it never happened, and you cope the best you can.” The guilt, the decades of remorse, and the general sadness to my uncle all made a lot more sense to me, when he said those words.

Remy, the melancholy loner, hadn’t been able to ever deal with the fallout of what happened with Hector, himself, and my father. Marius had found his own way to deal with it, and Hector was dead, but Remy had existed in mixed stages of denial, anger, bargaining, and depression for years without ever coming through the other side and healing from it all.

“Good thing we’re not some people, huh? The LeeRoy men are far too obstinate to quit, good thing we have each other to rely on.” I gave Remy’s shoulder a squeeze, then dropped onto the bench next to him. It groaned under the addition of my weight.

“Smoke cleanse,” Remy muttered after drawing a tiny magic circle in the air. He exaled a puff of smoke into the circle, when then roiled to me.

“What the heck?” I coughed and sputtered, the acrid smoke really smelled awful when someone blows it in your face, instead of the nice, almost welcoming scent it had while it peacefully burned in the pipe.

Remy looked down at my clothes, then I did the same. All the blood and viscera from Howlister had been cleaned.

“That’s a handy spell,” I said a little begrudgingly. “Thank you.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s got a hunger for duck. It’s a miracle Miyuki or someone else hasn’t eaten Howlister for real by now.” Remy laughed, but it was short lived. Sven knocked on the pit door and let himself in.

Behind him, I could smell oiled steel and a woman.

“You’ve got a visitor, Emery! I’ll be outside if you need any fresh refreshments before your next bout,” the gnome set a tray of bread, meat, with two carafes of wine and three goblets on it, before he fled the room.

A woman stepped in, gently pushing the door shut behind herself. Her hair was a color I’d never really seen before, a bright orange that cascaded in curls to frame her face, but in the back it was bound by two blue ribbons. Despite being bound like that, her hair hung almost to her hips. Her features were sharp, her green eyes predatory, and she had no ears on the side of her head, instead two tufted, furred ears rose above her head. Five swords were sheathed across her back, and a solitary final sword remained sheathed on her hip. She was as beautiful as I had assumed she would be from her voice alone.

She was shorter than me. Maybe 5’2”. Even sitting she couldn’t look me evenly in the eyes.

Remy hissed, and let out an almost animalistic growl at her, while the woman ignored him for the moment, and smiled at me.

“Why hello there, Mr. Ravenous Dragon,” she greeted me warmly, and even I knew what she would say next. “I am Miyuki of the Six Swords, and it’s time that you and I talked.”

I eyed Remy, who had stopped growling, but still stared bloody murder at Miyuki. She ignored him so nonchalantly that Remy’s cheeks grew red with anger.

“What is there to talk about?” I wondered. I didn’t really see that we had anything to talk about, I was here to beat her, kill her, then move on to the Obsidian Arena. It all felt very straight forward to me.

“Do you know how the Obsidian Arena works?” Miyuki asked, then poured herself a goblet of wine and sat in one of the heavy wooden chairs opposite me.

“Nope,” I answered without hesitation.

Miyuki snorted, and nearly choked on the wine she’d helped herself too.

“Really?” Miyuki asked again.

“I haven’t looked into it at all yet, my companions are handling that,” I said. According to Arx Maxima, that’s what Claire and Chrys were doing now, so that’s what I answered with.

“Well, let me illuminate it for you. The Obsidian Arena is the Cursed Arena of Shackles and Chains. It has only two contestants, Xian the Chained and Alrik the Shackler. Truthfully, Alrik the Shackler is the true champion of the Arena. Not only is Alrik an Emerald, but he is also a soul warden, a particularly nasty summoner of considerable power. There are only two rules that effect the Obsidian Arena, would you like to know what they are?”

“Soul warden?” Remy groaned that part, which got Remy his first acknowledgement from Miyuki, a commiserating nod.

“Why do the rules matter?” I asked.

“Rules, conditions, are the heart –and thus the core-- of all curses. The first rule of the cursed arena is that none, but the champion may leave. This aspect of the curse is so powerful it effects life and death. All who enter the Obsidian Arena either become part of Alrik’s army of souls or are cursed to fight him for eternity as Xian the Chained does.” Miyuki stopped there and looked between Remy and me.

“So, it’s impossible to free Xian?” I asked Miyuki, and she looked like I slapped her.

“You’re here for Xian? I assumed this one brought you for revenge upon Alrik,” Miyuki gestured at Remy.

“Why would I care about Alrik?” Remy demanded, a harsh flare of anger in his voice. His fingers were held tightly in fists, I presumed to keep himself from casting any spells at Miyuki.

“Well, Alrik is the one who shackled poor Yukiko in that tomb. It is very difficult to force the soul of a kitsune into service, but Alrik reasoned that shackling her in that tomb and leaving two of his spirits to torment her would break her spirit enough to accomplish it, and he’d swoop by in a decade and collect his newest soul.” Miyuki’s distaste for Alrik couldn’t be overstated.

“What’s that got to do with us?” I asked.

“Well, Remy there killed her, but he also broke Alrik’s curse and shackles. So, how about we team up, Oh Merlin? You break the curses, the dragon and I kill the true evil behind Yukiko, and we end our superficial blame of one another?” Miyuki tried to make it sound like a win, and upbeat for everyone, but Remy’s face grew darker with each word.

“If you’d kept an eye on your sister she wouldn’t have been caught by that thing, and I wouldn’t have had to kill her! You’re every bit as responsible as this Alrik,” Remy emphasized, and when he pointed a potent spell lay ready to explode from his finger.

“Woah, no spells in a small room, please?” I asked Remy and I glared a warning at Miyuki to stop antagonizing him, if she was doing so intentionally.

“I blame myself every day for giving Yukiko her freedom to make mistakes. It’s what got her caught, and yes, I didn’t notice for a few months. Months that cost my sister her sanity. Every day, I bear the weight of my failures, but killing Alrik is the only way to make amends I have left. Someone else already freed and sent her spirit on,” Miyuki looked at the floor while she said it, ashamed. “I greatly regret that I punished you for your kindness. I was wrong.”

The sincerity of the apology, mixed with the utter deflation of Remy’s sails seemed like a good thing to me, but he kept deflating until I worried he might become an empty husk. I saw the wetness in Remy’s eyes, and the reduction of his spirit. Indignant anger may have been all that kept the mage going.

“I don’t get it?” I said, but Miyuki walked past me to kneel before Remy.

“I can’t undo what I did to you, but I can atone. Alrik took Yukiko and your friend from us; I took your humanity from you. Perhaps we can find something in addition to revenge, together?” Miyuki’s hands gently cupped Remy’s larger hands and squeezed them. I still felt left in the dark.

Remy’s answer was a laughter. A high pitched, almost giggling sound that veered between whimpering and cackling, and showed off the sharp canines I’d never noticed Remy possessed before, or the orange low lights to his auburn hair, or the tufted ears above his head, not on the side of his head… No, there was no way I ever missed that even once. Remy’s features shifted, revealing Remy, but a different Remy. One with blue-white foxfire burning in his eyes.