in which the dark lord darkly sinks the world into darkness

In the end, Pebble convinced the usurper by telling him that she’d retrieved the crown and captured the bandit already. Before he saw any holes in this explanation, she gallantly excused herself—successfully this time. It’d stopped raining again, but this was fleeting at best.

What a stupid town.

What a stupid plan.

What a stupid way to live, waiting for a few minutes of sunlight at a time…

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

A long time ago, theoretically speaking, gods and humans lived in harmony. Gods chose humanity’s best to reign upon the mortal territories. Humans created civilization, and art, and hope, and sang the praises of those who granted them sentience.

No one but the god-chosen used magic back then, when Frell was human—when humans weren’t sparse. Gods were a painting, a sculpture, a legend, an excuse. Frell prayed to a statue that was little more than a rock. He served a king that ruled for profit. He was only twenty when the first revolution in history began, and in a way, he’d been twenty ever since.

Frell sat next to the window, squinting when the first—and only—ray of sunlight hit his eyes. The last god of rain had fallen during the war. Since no one had ascended or been demoted into the position yet, disasters like these were common. What was wrong with being the god of rain, anyway? He would’ve expected mortals to flock at the chance of, well… immortality.

Then again, divinity protected those cursed with it from wrinkles, but not a well-timed blade to the heart. Or a hundred. Frell got impaled fifty-seven times at some point during a war, so perhaps it was a case by case scenario.

Since he was alone, he slipped the rosary out of his shirt, letting it dangle upon his breast. As far as he was concerned, no one had talked to God in millennia. After all, they were “real” now.

He prayed.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Frell was talking to his necklace when Pebble walked into the room. He did that a lot, and it never got less annoying. He pretended to have been staring out the window instead, she pretended like she hadn’t listened, and together they restored peace. “I didn’t get the money back,” she said. “I felt bad for the, uh… burglar.” More like the usurper. She’d repeatedly declined to take his bounty for her alter ego, or else she’d have two thousand turtles at her disposal… but wasn’t that basically swindling? And swindling was mean.

“As expected,” he mumbled.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“With money.”

“I pay my nude models well.”

“Great,” Pebble said. “And I’m nude under my clothes. I’ll pose for you all you want while wearing your robe. Oh, and I bought you a rainhat.”

As Frell slid down the window’s rim, he snorted. “What, am I supposed to wear the crown and the rainhat?”

She shrugged.

“No thanks. That will ruin the scene. I don’t mind getting wet every now and then. So… we go to the plaza, you give me the crown as a gift, I put it on, and then poof, possession?”

“...yeah… it was pretty empty when I crossed it earlier, though… because of the rain…”

“...yeah… but we need a crowded place so the news can spread…”

They’d agreed on this state capital because nobody cared about it much, so the chances of a high-ranking Saint taking care of the situation diminished. The Hall of Heroes was vetoed for obvious reasons. Teleporting stones were prohibitively expensive.

“What about a tavern?” Pebble proposed.

“They’ll be too drunk to care.”

“A restaurant?”

“Could be.”

“Never mind,” Pebble said, “We’d ruin their meals.”

“Peb—”

“Let’s just do the plaza. I’ll wear a swimsuit to get people’s attention.”

Frell’s complaint fizzled instantly. His lecherous smile would’ve made her shiver had she not grown numb to it. “Great idea. GREAT idea. I’ll get my notebook.”

While embarrassing, it also made sense: one wore swimsuits when under water. With the crown, Frell’s cursed drawing materials, and handcrafted talismans in her rucksack, they left the inn, having to take a two-hour detour because nobody sold swimsuits in the area; they were a good week’s away from the closest source of water by foot.

“Maybe we should try another city,” Frell said.

“No.”

“I figured as much. Why not?”

“Because I guarantee, I guarantee that we’ll have issues again, and then you’ll say ‘let’s try another town’ and the same thing will happen. No. Let’s just do it once and for all. I’ll take off my shirt, but you’ll have to do it as well.”

They sought shelter under a palm tree next to a coffee shop. The plaza was one block away. Frell didn’t jump at the chance to see more skin, which was disturbing. He was tapping his cheek again. “I feel like it’ll be very hard to take this seriously if we’re both shirtless and wearing rainhats. Besides, your main attractions lie on your bottom half, so that wouldn’t get much attention.”

“Your upper half isn’t that attractive, either. Fuck you. When was the last time you picked up a dumbbell? How many centuries ago?”

“Ohoho, now we’re getting personal. Listen—”

The door to the coffee shop opened. Out walked one of the usurper’s guards. The smaller one. “Good afternoon. Pardon my intrusion, but the owner of this fine establishment told me to pass on the following message. Ahem. ‘Please tell the wandering troupe to do their act here they’ll get me customers I’ll give them free coffee I’m sending pigeons to spread the message no honey the ones that like rain not Sparky anyway sweetie will you be a darling.’” He gasped for breath after finishing.

Thus Frell and Pebble had free coffee and snacks while a crowd formed. The guard, who had probably just been enjoying the local cuisine, returned to his table, where he read while sipping tea. Like the houses, the furniture consisted of clay squares, but the chairs had embroidered cushions to add class to the shop.

Pebble’s dig at Frell had dug deeper than expected. He wasn’t silent, exactly, but his replies were distant, and he kept looking away. Apologizing would only make it worse and she knew it. He’d pretend as though it hadn’t hurt. The next best solution was to share the thorn in their hearts.

Then again… couldn’t he just pick up a dumbbell? Anything?

“Is it time?” Pebble asked once the shop was sufficiently full, which was to say that it had a dozen people.

“Yup.” Frell stood up. Like Pebble, he wore the provisional suit. Their clothes had yet to dry. “Well, my dearest Pebble, I’ve been waiting for too long. What was it you wanted to give me?”

She followed. She tried to enunciate loudly like him. She tried. Twelve people were staring. “I got a hat for, um. Wait, no, a crown.” Most people didn’t know what a crown was. “It’s this hat that used to belong to a king.” Most people didn’t know what a crown was. “M-monarchy. Someone very powerful wore it. In the past.”

“Wow! The remnant of a fallen civilization? That’s quite a gift to give to someone you just insulted.”

Oh dear. “Yeah, I was actually… going to keep it, but you can have it as an apology.” When she reached for her rucksack, she found that her hands were trembling. None of the reasons that came to mind were flattering. She handed it to him. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” He took it.

“Hurting you.”

“Meh.” As he put it on, Frell looked away. Whatever he saw then did not exist—not to anyone else. With a humorless smile, he said, “Wow. It really is just a stupid hat.”

It was pretty well-made, all things considered. Any jewelry it might’ve held had long since been pillaged, but its form was immaculate. She’d tinker with it once this whole thing was over.

“I feel dizzy,” Frell said.

“Is it too heavy?”

“No, you—no. Something’s… calling… talking to me…”

“Someone?” It took her a moment to remember that this was an act. “Frell?”

It didn’t help that his scream got the entire shop on their feet. Against her best judgment, Pebble’s heart began to race.

He collapsed, trying, and failing, to get the cursed item off his head. Or was he actually dying? Did gods have allergies? As agreed, Pebble reached for the bag, reached for one of the talismans Frell had drawn, then tore it between her fingers.

Walls darkened as faraway wails drowned the customers’ panicked murmurs. The oil lamp flickered, then went off on its own. Frell’s screams cut off abruptly as he began to laugh. Under ordinary circumstances, someone might’ve fled already, but they were enthralled at the “act”, which was an act, which was an Act.

Pebble was running out of talismans. She couldn’t do these… effects on her own. She’d told him as such. She’d try anyway lest he risk exposing himself again just to keep the atmosphere going.

…and then the seal began to glow under his neckband….

That, when nothing else could, made the first person bolt.

Abruptly, Frell sat up, slicing the air with his arm, shutting all doors and windows at once. The only sources of light were the fire at the oven, his seal, and his white, glowing pupils. As it turned out, that toothy smile could be as eerie as it could be lecherous. “At last,” he said, his voice distorting as Pebble tore through another piece of paper, “I am free.”

It took him clearing his throat to remember that this was her cue to speak. “Free? What are you talking about? Who are you and what did you do with Free? Um, Frell?”

“I am he.” Frell stood; even his red hair was glowing. Did this idiot think that she was good at magic? What if they ran out of talismans? She didn’t even know how he was doing all of this. “I am all that has existed, and all that will exist. I am the Demon King.”

For the first time since the act had started, someone else spoke—a woman in her thirties with a young girl on her lap. “I think the god-mark is a prop.”

“Me too,” replied her husband. “But it’s very realistic.”

Slowly, Frell walked over to them.

Why was he IMPROVISING!? He was supposed to attack her after she acted scared! Or did he not trust her to act convincingly?

…yeah, that was probably it.

Thus he opted to use the audience as props. Knowing that Pebble would stop him, Frell summoned a glowing, golden knife before lunging at the little girl, who screamed. Pebble rushed toward him, parrying it. Unfortunately, the fork she used melted on contact.

By then, people had begun to scramble. Any exits refused to open. “Enough!” The owner called out. “You’re going too far! It looks very nice, but—”

“Silence!”

When Frell spoke, every cry and whisper stopped. Pebble physically couldn’t speak. This absolute nincompoop was tapping into his divinity without realizing it. She couldn’t even breathe. “F…” she wheezed. “F… ss…”

“Hmm?” He glanced at her as though she were a cockroach. “Your friend can no longer hear you.”

“...khh!”

“Oh.” He released them, leading to a collective gasp as he reached out for his throat. The ‘oh, fuck’ on his face lasted an instant. It was an instant too long.

“God!” Cried the husband.

Though Pebble could almost hear his pulse, Frell continued, “God, you say? How fortunate! How—” Pebble blocked an incoming ice beam as she borrowed Frell’s knife. A divine weapon had more energy than a fork by a few orders of magnitude, so she not only vaporized the beam, but also cut clean through the wall, the house across the street, and a good portion of the treeless mountain beyond. The resulting seism shook the crockery.

Well.

Well…

Frell scowled at her. “No,” Pebble mumbled, then dropped the weapon. “You’re not—you’re controlling me!”

People were using the makeshift door to flee, owner included. Once the place was empty, Frell said, “Good save, but I don’t think any of them lis—” He collapsed, coughing, a hand on his neck.

“Oh, no,” Pebble mumbled, but he held up a hand as she reached for him.

“No… no biggie… I’ll just… five mm… min…”

The customers had probably run to their homes already, if not the plaza, if not the guard station. It wouldn’t take long for a mob to show up. After Pebble got some water for Frell to sip, she said, “At least we’ll have an audience.”

His laugh came out raspy.

“We can just… you know.”

“Yeah.”

The act could stay an act, the world a stinkhole. It’d only hurt until she died. Pebble helped him up. Frell was pale, even for him, yet he managed, “Let’s go.”

“Are you…”

“Yes. I’m sure.” He was whispering now. The more he used divine magic, the more the seal clamped on his neck. From what he’d told her, it was akin to a chain reaction.

It was raining again. Staring at the gash on the mountain, Pebble said, “Divine weapons are something else. No wonder you guys almost won.”

“Almost.”

“You got a bit too excited, didn’t you?”

“You too.”

She nodded slowly. She owed a lot of people now.

“Take the…” Frell gestured at the bag. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get this over with.”

True to her words, at the plaza, they had an audience this time. With all that happened, Pebble forgot to take the anesthetic, so when Frell cleaved her in half with his divine blade, it actually hurt. A lot. She passed out. And then she woke up in an inn with the usurper sitting beside her.