The Angel's Jester

Something familiar is under Osric's cheek. A carpet. A beige carpet. He jumps to his feet. He is in his old body again, in the angel's office.

At the desk, head in his hand, sits the silver-haired jerk.

"I guess it's over, huh?"

"Yep." The angel shifts his head to his other hand, cracking a grin. "Your life was... entertaining to say the least. I can't believe you fell for that demon's trick. I even warned you."

He sighs, the joy leaving his face. "You also didn’t listen. Now I’ve got a whole lot of work to do — thanks a lot."

"Wait, how's Elayne? Is she okay?"

"Uh, not quite." The angel claps his hands twice, and the TV cart appears.

The screen flickers on, showing a ball of flame speeding through the forest. A silhouetted figure inside, crimson-red eyes beaming through the fire.

"What's that?"

"That's Elayne." The angel leans back in his chair. "She's been... corrupted, like you."

"What!?" Osric’s heart drops into his stomach. He falls to his knees, watching in horror as Elayne flies through the forest, igniting every plant in her path.

She barrels straight toward the elf. He dodges last second of leaping into a tree. Then Elayne turns, shooting right up into the tree after him. He bounds out at the last second.

The feed then cuts, now falling the elf. His panicked panting rattles the speakers on the CRT TV. He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a small blue flute and plays a few notes.

Something dives down through the trees—no, multiple somethings. Owls. Seven brown owls flutter their wings in front of him. He screams something at them, in a language Osric doesn’t understand. They zoom toward Elayne, who’s dive-bombing straight at them.

A beam of fire shoots from her. Every owl is engulfed, reduced to ash in an instant.

The man shrieks in horror as the ash of his owl drifts to the ground. He takes off again, just as Elayne slams into the spot where he stood.

His hand glows green, and a pointed log bursts from the ground. He spins, hurling it at her — only for the log to disintegrate into ash, just like the birds.

He tries to run again, but Elayne flashes in front of him.

"Don't kill me!" he squeals, curling into a ball. Vines shoot from the ground in a circle, curling into a dome around him.

With a single touch, the vines turn to nothing but soot.

"No, please!" he shoots to his feet, begging, stumbling backward until he crashes into the tree.

Elayne advances slowly, menacingly, each step leaving a trail of flame.

He trembles, squealing in a pitch that climbs to that of a little girl.

She reaches — and lightly taps his shoulder.

He explodes into flames, the flickering inferno shooting high above the trees. He screams in bloody agony as he's cooked alive.

The flame poofs out of existence — all that's left is a pile of black soot, with the "Book of Sloth" resting on top.

The flaming Elayne simply turns and bolts through the forest.

"Where is she going now?" Osric's voice shakes.

"Who knows?" The angel shrugs.

The camera cuts to a bird's-eye view of the forest. A forest in flames. It pans after what he assumes is Elayne beneath the burning canopy. She’s heading toward a worn dirt path. Sunvale Village.

"No, no! Where is she going?" Osric shouts. "Why is she going into the village!?"

"She’s no longer in control," the angel remarks.

"You can't let her do that. You have to stop her!" Osric cries, shooting to his feet.

I’m not doing a thing." The angel rests both hands behind his head.

"I'll stop her."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do — you're dead." The angel chuckles.

"You can bring me back to life, can’t you?" Osric pushes the TV cart aside, staring him straight in the eyes.

"Why would I do that?"

"Please, just do it. I’ll do anything." Osric slams his hands down on the desk, pleading.

"Hmm. You know what? You can do me a favor." The angel leans in.

"Anything!" Osric blurts.

"Since you caused me all this work, you're gonna do it for me. You're going on a little quest to find all seven books of Sin... That's my condition for bringing you back to life."

"I'll do it!" Osric nods vehemently.

The angel leans in, his face inches from Osric’s. “Oh, you will. If you don’t… I can take your life away just as easily as I gave it back.” He lets the words hang for a moment, then adds, “Go down there and provide me with more entertainment, my little jester.” His mouth wriggles into a twisted smile.