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Chapter 2

  Chapter 2: In Which Edwin’s Newly-Formed Army of Darkness Embarks On Their First Quest; Meeting Along the Way The Immortal Scoundrel, Garrik Neverlander

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  1

  Edwin didn't bother brushing his hair the next morning.

  As soon as his eyes opened, he threw off his tattered bedsheets and shoved on his steel-toed shoes. After fastening his cape and donning his heavy utility belt, he leapt out the door as quick as a flash, eager to make it to the forest cottage as soon as he could.

  All night, Edwin's mind had been turning, replaying the moment that Libellia - THE Libellia Vorgath, mind you - had agreed to mentor him. She had even called him "Lord Edwin."

  As he thought back to yesterday, he grinned, barely containing his excitement at being referred to that way. It wasn't said with sarcasm, or with an "aww" immediately preceding it. She had said it like a title, and who better to know what a real Dark Lord was like than a demoness, right?

  Down the gravel path he ran, his unkempt mop of bright blonde hair bouncing up and down. Bottles clinked in his belt with every step.

  The townsfolk gawked at him as he passed, giving a judgemental, concerned look. It was the same way someone in your world might glare at a teenager skateboarding down the sidewalk. Edwin didn't notice - or care. He smiled from ear to ear as he made his way to the edge of the dark woodlands on the outskirts of Tiryl.

  The morning was still young, and the sky still shone with orange and purple. Underneath the canopy of large oaks and evergreens, the winding road appeared dark and mysterious. Edwin's pace slowed.

  The usual sound of the village hustle and bustle was gone. In its place, filling the atmosphere, was the noise of rustling leaves as wind billowed through high branches. A "knock knock" could be heard: A woodpecker, most likely, Edwin thought.

  If you've ever been down an unfamiliar forest trail, then you may know the eerie, creeping sensation that began to cloak Edwin's mind like a wet blanket as he wandered further into the dark. It was the feeling of unfamiliarity - of self-doubt. The path seemed to wind in a different direction than he remembered. The trees seemed to have different colored bark. Rocks jutted out from the fern-covered ground in directions that seemed entirely new to him.

  As Edwin continued along the forest maze, he came to forks in the path he couldn't recall from yesterday. His host had led him to and from her house before, but he wasn't paying as much attention as he should have about the way to the secluded cottage.

  "It was left... no, right… Right? Ugh..."

  Edwin tried thinking back: Two lefts... one right... then at the fork of three, head straight down the middle. Had he accidentally gone the wrong direction?

  There was no doubt about it: Edwin Draconoff was absolutely, undeniably lost.

  His heart began to beat harder and faster than before. He felt cold sweat begin to form at his brow. The dark around him seemed to close in from every side.

  Just as he had made up his mind to turn and retrace his steps-

  *SNAP*

  It was the snapping of wood.

  A large piece of wood. More branch-like than stick-like.

  Edwin swallowed hard.

  Something - something large - was working its way toward him through the trees.

  His stomach twisted.

  He knew exactly what it was by the outline of its shadow, but his brain refused to process it until the creature approached fully within clear view:

  The beast was tall, heavy. It had deep, black, onyx eyes, thick brown hair, and sharp yellow teeth that peeked out through the curve of its dark lips. Its ears twitched as it made its way forward on its large, imposing paws. The ground itself began to quake.

  In your world, you’d call this a Grizzly Bear, but here, they were called Ursur - and this one was angry.

  Ursur were typically averse to run-ins with people, as they preferred to eat fruit and nuts they forged from the woods around them. As such, they were rarely known for attacks.

  ...That is, unless there were cubs nearby, and the mother felt threatened.

  The Ursur grunted, baring its teeth and snarling as it drew closer. Edwin's heart beat like a timpani, rattling his chest.

  He took a deep breath, retreating a few steps.

  "Rrrrr..." The Ursur advanced. It stamped its front paws. He could see the vapor from its nose cloud the air as it snorted.

  Being a lover of reading, especially when it came to monsters and beasts, Edwin knew a great many things about Ursur: their average size, height, weight, characteristics, habits and breeding.

  Still, when one was staring directly across from you, eyes burrowing into your soul, all of that knowledge seemed lost underneath the primal instinct to run.

  "Okay Edwin... if there was ever a great time to use some useful magic... now would be it... c’mon..."

  From his back, Edwin loosened an old, slightly bent Mage's scepter, finished in a dark, exotic metal. At its head was a bright amber-orange gemstone that glowed slightly in its ornate setting.

  As his hand grasped the scepter, the gem glowed brighter, as if the magic flowing through Edwin's arm was powering it.

  He stared at the Ursur, now within only a couple yards of distance. He tensed his forehead and raised the magical stone towards the beast. The orange glow made its black eyes appear reddish and fierce.

  His grip was tight.

  The low snarling of the beast became an adversarial growl. It stopped, as if to prepare itself to pounce.

  Edwin winced, unsure of what to do.

  He took a deep breath - possibly his last - and summoned everything within him to try and cast some sort of fire spell.

  *SHOOOOOOM!*

  The forest erupted in a wild green light, as fast as lightning and as sharp as broken glass. The blast sent the Ursur hurdling backwards several yards, crashing into the trunk of a nearby oak. Edwin fell backwards as well, the illumination nearly blinding him.

  He rubbed his eyes, peering ahead.

  The large creature sat slumped near the ground, its chest now scorched black and smoking from the absinthe-colored fireball that had struck it.

  The hulking beast was dead. Just like that, in a flash.

  Edwin's eyes grew wider than the rims of his now-askew glasses.

  Was that... him?

  He looked at the tip of his staff, almost as if he expected it to be steaming.

  Then, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

  The silhouette of horns cast an imposing shadow across the dirt.

  He turned around-

  "Lord Edwin, are you alright?!"

  It was Libellia, one hand removing her hood. She stood breathing heavily, her face full of worry.

  "Oh dear! I've been looking all over these woods for you. I cannot believe I forgot to give you directions!"

  She bent down on one knee and reached into a basket she was carrying. A warm, inviting smell met Edwin's nose. He sniffed.

  Inside was a small crock of soup, some homemade sourdough bread, and some ointments and bandages of various sizes.

  Edwin straightened his lenses, moving locks of his messy blonde hair from his vision.

  "I-I'm so terribly sorry Edwin... as soon as I saw that Ursur approaching you, I cast the first spell that came to mind! Did you get hurt?"

  "That fire spell... that was you?"

  Libellia nodded, grimacing as she looked over Edwin's face, searching for burn marks. Aside from some singed eyebrows, he appeared to be mostly fine. She breathed a sigh of relief, looking remorseful.

  "Yes... that was me... I'm so sorry I burned you..."

  She opened her eyes, expecting Edwin to be annoyed.

  Instead, he was practically vibrating with excitement.

  "That... was... SO TOTALLY WICKED!!! That must have been 'INFERNAL FIRE!!' The heat!! The speed!! It was INCREDIBLE!!"

  Libellia backed away slightly, shocked.

  "That was one of the most incredible fire spells I've ever seen! You just one-shot that Ursur like it was nothing!

  Libellia glanced back over at the corpse of the large beast.

  "I couldn't let it hurt you..."

  Edwin turned, looking serious for a moment.

  "I am so thankful you were there, Lady Libellia... I don't know if I would have made it, you know... the way my magic is..."

  Libellia handed him a clay cup of soup. It was a hearty, creamy stew with sausage and potatoes.

  Edwin took a sip. It was good, really good. He felt the warmth flowing through him, giving him strength back to rise to his feet.

  "Please," Libellia said, smiling softly, "just call me Libellia. No need for formalities."

  _____________

  2

  "Experience points."

  Libellia sat in a leather armchair, folding dresses and placing them back into her wooden laundry basket. Her tail flicked back and forth, thoughtfully.

  Edwin lay sprawled across the loveseat in Libellia's living room, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke.

  "If I'm ever going to learn any real, fearsome magic, I need experience points. If I can't even defend myself in the forest, how am I going to lead a dark army? Or defend my castle?!"

  "Experience points?"

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Libellia looked up from across the coffee table at Edwin, visibly confused.

  "...Yes. like, XP? It's how you level up and gain skills," Edwin stated.

  The demoness' expression remained blank.

  "I don't think I've ever needed anything like that..."

  Libellia folded her hands neatly in her lap. "You see, succubi are made as we are made,” she said, carefully. “Our gifts are just… there; from the start. I haven't ever had to 'learn new skills...' they've always been available to me.”

  She looked away for a moment, touching her chin. "You do get a few extra abilities if you've recently consumed a soul or two, but..."

  At this, Edwin threw himself back, his head hitting the armrest. He wore a defeated expression on his face.

  Libellia immediately raised her hands.

  "I-I mean, that's not to say I don't think that's a good plan! I suppose other mortals- uhm, I mean, Dark Lords, probably had to do something similar to get started!"

  She laughed a little, trying to ease Edwin's frustration.

  "Besides," she continued, "I thought you were working and saving up gold so you could afford going to university. Wouldn’t they teach you magical arts there?"

  Edwin sighed loudly.

  "...I quit my job yesterday."

  Libellia stopped short, gasping slightly as she dropped a sock on the floor.

  "Quit your job? Why on earth did you do that?"

  Edwin shrugged. "I was just… done. It wasn't getting me anywhere. The pay was so bad, I couldn't ever save up enough to attend a wizardry college. It was horrible work, too. I couldn’t bring myself to scrub any more dirty dishes!"

  He slipped his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling as he spoke. "...In addition, I guess I just wanted to spend as much time learning from you as I could."

  Libellia smiled faintly at that remark, before adjusting her expression back to a serious look.

  "As flattered as I am, Edwin... I'm afraid I can't give you magical abilities. I could teach spells, maybe - but you'd have to possess the mana capacity first."

  Edwin furrowed his brows and straightened his glasses. He slammed his fist into the poofy cushion of the sofa.

  "Any way you slice it, I need to go on some kind of starter quest. Ya know? Some kind of good old-fashioned beginner's adventure to earn a little money and experience."

  "Starter quest?"

  "Exactly! Like... like helping some guy find a lost pair of gloves in the woods, or a farmer rid pests from his fields! Things like that! Usually there's some kind of cash reward, and you can level up your magic abilities at the same time!"

  Libellia stood, grabbing the laundry basket and holding it under her arm.

  "I suppose that doesn't sound like a bad idea..."

  Edwin followed her into the other room, talking as she set stacks of folded clothes into the drawers of her dark walnut wardrobe.

  "Yeah! This sort of thing happens all the time at the Bard's Barrel. Wanderers from out of town stop there, looking for quests. As I understand, it's pretty standard stuff!"

  Edwin looked to Libellia for approval. She set down her basket, raising an eyebrow.

  "So, what you're asking is for me to come with you on an adventure. Is that right?"

  She turned to face Edwin, crossing her arms. Edwin swallowed.

  "Well, um, yeah. I suppose so... but only if you want to..."

  Libellia smirked. Her green eyes faintly glowed as she stared directly into the brown eyes of the boy standing before her.

  "I will accompany you."

  Edwin grinned, about to jump for joy.

  "ALL RIGHT! WICKE-"

  "However," she said, interrupting his celebration, "this is not my quest, but yours. I intend to come along as your guide to support you, Lord Edwin. However, I must remind you: I am no longer a practicing demoness. My home is here, in the forest. That has not changed."

  "Of course," Edwin replied, trying to straighten his face into a stoic calm.

  After a moment, Edwin glanced outside, checking the time of day. "Usually, the inn is most busy just before sundown. That gives us a little bit of time to get ready before we make our way into town."

  Libellia nodded. "I'll get some provisions ready."

  As Edwin sat in the living room, going through his notes and books with excited fervor, Libellia stole away to her bedroom, shutting the door quietly.

  She took a deep breath.

  After a moment, she got down on her hands and knees, reaching underneath her bed.

  With some effort, she pulled a large trunk out from underneath, coated in a layer of dust. It was a large, flat trunk, covered in dark black leather and studded with brass hobnails. She lifted it up onto her bed.

  Instinctively, she wiped the top of it off with her sleeve to remove the dust, coughing a little as it clouded the stale air.

  She reached to either side, pressing in on two small latches, which flipped open with a mechanical "clack."

  Slowly, almost as if she was afraid of what she would see, she raised the lid.

  Inside were relics of Libellia's past: A small jar containing blood red crystals. An old parchment map depicting a world that was far, far different from the once in which she now lived. A leather waistbelt which had once held her sword.

  She exhaled, her breath trembling.

  In the corner of the box, neatly folded, were the clothes she used to wear back then: The fabric was dark crimson, smooth and faintly reflective in the light. It was cut high at the hips and tight at the waist, designed not for comfort, but for impact. Gold filigree traced along the seams like veins of fire through stone.

  Libellia couldn't help but lift the bodysuit up from it's resting place and examine it. She felt the slickness of the material against her skin.

  Stepping over to her mirror, she held it up, looking at it. It was just as she had remembered it.

  "Oh my..." she chuckled faintly. "I could never..."

  She looked down.

  Her mind swirled with thoughts of the past. Of what she was. Of how she was.

  For a moment, just a moment, she wondered how she would look if she wore it again. How much power she could command. She wondered if she still possessed the same devastating beauty. The same authority.

  She closed her eyes. She shook her head.

  No. That simply wasn't her anymore.

  "It's okay. I'm not going back."

  And with that, she placed the outfit back into the trunk, closing the latches and sliding it underneath her bed once more.

  ‐----------------

  The outside lanterns of all the stores and shops had just been lit as Edwin and Libellia strode into town.

  Edwin wore his usual fanatical garb, striding with even more swagger and confidence than usual. Several paces back, Libellia walked slowly, her body almost entirely covered by a long, dark purple hooded cloak.

  As they approached the inn, Edwin turned back, nodding to Libellia. This was their signal: They had decided to enter the tavern at separate times, pretending not to know one another. Edwin would go in first and do the talking, trying to find someone who needed the help of a novice adventurer. After some time, Libellia would stop in to ensure Edwin hadn't gotten himself into trouble.

  The door of the Bard's Barrel creaked as Edwin entered, his signature steel-tipped shoes clicking against the tile.

  The room was packed - nearly every table was surrounded by patrons of various shapes and sizes. The chatter and laughter surrounded the atmosphere, endowing the torch-lit room with a merry, warm presence.

  Somewhere to Edwin's right, tall mugs of yeasty ale collided in a toast, casting sweet-smelling froth across the room and onto his black cape. Edwin wiped off his shoulder as he approached the bartender.

  The man behind the counter was a burly, muscular-type fellow, with short, dark hair and a waxed mustache. At the sight of his former co-worker, he stopped short, tossing a hand towel over his bulky shoulder.

  "Well, well! If it isn't little Quirk himself! Back to beg for your job?"

  He laughed, a deep, jolly kind of laugh that carried even in a loud room.

  Edwin leaned up against the bar, the way he had seen others do before.

  "No, Charlie," he spoke, in a voice that seemed a lower register than his usual, "I'm not here to clean plates. I'm here -" he glanced both ways before he spoke - "to look for a starter quest."

  The stocky bartender crossed his tree-trunk arms. "There ya go, using those peculiar words again. Starter quest? What on earth's that supposed to mean?"

  "Im looking for adventure work, Charlie," Edwin declared. "I need to grow my experience so I can learn magic, and the only way to do that is by going on a starter quest."

  The large man laughed again. "Hah! Adventure work?! You?! Boy..." Charlie began, waving a dismissive hand, "you're a good lad, but you're not much of the adventurin' type. With that bean pole body of yours, you'd end up some monster's snack - and not much of one at that. Be serious, now - have you thought this through?"

  At first, the large man's words bruised Edwin's ego. He pushed his glasses up to his face, preparing to respond -

  *CRASH*

  Edwin turned, suddenly, to see what had happened.

  A table behind him had been knocked over, the contents scattered across the floor. Voices gasped.

  Two masked figures barreled towards the exit. In their wake, another man ran after them, yelling.

  "HEY!! STOP!! THOSE BELONG TO ME, YOU SWINE!!"

  The stranger in pursuit grabbed a pint mug from an empty table, hurling more insults as he made his exit.

  Edwin glanced around, the hooded cloak of his partner nowhere to be seen. He instinctively followed suit, apologizing to the bartender and dashing out the door.

  The two masked men had already mounted their horses, making their way down the street with haste.

  "TAKE THIS, YOU STUPID FILTHY THIEVES!!"

  Edwin watched as the angry patron threw the tankard with all his might, just missing the back of one of the horseriders.

  Without warning, the bandit’s partner revealed a crossbow from within his saddle bags.

  Edwin's heart dropped.

  "Hey, wait! Stop!" He yelled, trying to get the mug-thrower's attention.

  ...but it was too late.

  *THWIK!*

  The slender bolt cut through the night air like a knife.

  Their pursuer collapsed to the ground, as if his very legs gave out in an instant. It wasn’t dramatic - it was sudden.

  Satisfied, the horsemen rode away into the dark, disappearing down the street as the sounds of galloping hooves grew quieter and quieter.

  As Edwin approached the slain man's body, he slowed his pace. The corpse was sprawled uncomfortably on the dirt road.

  The bolt had met its mark squarely in the man's chest. Warm blood trickled from the wound, mixing with the dirt below to form a thick mud.

  It was no use trying to save him.

  Edwin backed up a step. His breath caught. His ears rung like church bells.

  Of course, Edwin was no stranger to the concept of demise. He had read several books on battle, wars, and weaponry. He had read off death counts in the thousands when reading accounts of famous dark figures.

  ...But seeing death first hand?

  Edwin nearly wanted to vomit.

  He closed his eyes, massaging his temples to try and ground himself.

  "I'm okay. I need to get a medic, to call for help, to-"

  "Urgh... don't bother..."

  Edwin opened his eyes.

  What he saw made his jaw drop in utter shock.

  Before him stood the man who had just been shot, pulling the crossbow bolt out of his chest and wincing, as one might from removing a splinter.

  The revived figure breathed heavy, the bolt now fully removed.

  "I know I look like hell... but I'm not going to die."

  _____________

  3

  Edwin could not believe his eyes.

  That shot from the crossbow had sliced directly through his heart, and yet, the man standing before him was no longer even bleeding.

  He was a tall, well-built man, resembling what you might think of as a “traditional adventurer.” His face and jaw were rugged and well-defined, and his eyes were a sort of hazy grey, like the moon in a cloudy November sky. He had spiky, olive green hair that was slicked straight up (by some unknown substance). His clothes were ornate, made of obviously fine material, but were so deeply worn that they were ripped at nearly every bend and joint.

  “You…” Edwin began, voice trembling, “...you should be dead.”

  The man turned, as if taking in the sight of Edwin fully for the first time. He threw the bloodied crossbow bolt aside.

  “Oh, trust me. You're not the first to think that,” The mysterious adventurer retorted. He dusted himself off with his hands.

  “I'm being serious,” Edwin continued, “That bolt should have ruptured your left ventricle! There's no way a person would be able to take a shot like that and stand back up!”

  “My left ventra-what?”

  “...your heart.”

  The man looked down, placing a hand on his chest, as if feeling for the wound which had been there moments before.

  Suddenly, he began to laugh.

  “My heart, huh?”

  The man approached Edwin, a smirk on his face. His breath smelled faintly of alcohol as he spoke.

  “Joke's on you, kid. I haven’t had a heart for yeaaaars, believe me.”

  The mysterious stranger turned, looking back towards the now empty dirt road. His fists clenched.

  “Those bastards…” he said to himself, “...stole it right out of my hand…”

  Edwin walked closer. “Stole what?”

  The man turned, facing him again.

  “That's none of your business. And what on earth are you dressed up as? I thought Halloween wasn't for another couple of months.”

  Edwin, hurt by the man's remark, crossed his arms defiantly.

  “I-I'm not dressed as anything! This is my normal attire!”

  The stranger's eyes narrowed with skepticism. “...Normal seems kind of like a stretch. You look like a discount-rack dark wizard.”

  “Discount?!” Edwin tried to protest, but the previously wounded man had already begun to walk down the dimly lit street, pretending not to take notice of him anymore.

  “H-Hey! Wait up! Where are you going?”

  The man dug his hands into his pockets.

  “What's it to you?”

  Edwin caught up to him, walking side-by-side, arms flailing as he spoke. “You’re just walking away?! You haven't even paid your tab!”

  The stranger scoffed. “And clean up that mess inside? Hell no. I wanna get as far away from that place as possible. What a second-rate establishment… Cheap beer, and I got robbed.”

  Edwin ran up in front of the man, holding his arms out to the side as if to signify that he could walk no further. His black cape waved in the cool evening breeze.

  “Wait,” Edwin began, “I don’t really know what happened just now, and I'm kind of new to this whole ‘meeting adventurers’ thing, but you just took a shot to the heart and the only thing on your mind was the taste of the tavern's beer?! That's INSANELY wicked! Like… who are you?!”

  The man raised an eyebrow at the words “insanely wicked,” and crossed his arms.

  “Buzz off, kid! I already told you it's none of your beeswax!”

  The man tried to step around the peculiarly dressed boy, but with every step, Edwin moved to block his path.

  He darted to the right -

  “Move!”

  …then, to the left -

  “I said, MOVE!”

  Edwin continued to block him, eyes squinting up at him from beneath his round glasses. The man threw his hands up, groaning.

  “You really want an explanation that bad, huh? Fine.”

  The man extended a hand.

  “Typically, when you want to meet someone, you introduce yourself like a normal person. Like this: I’m Garrik. What’s your name?”

  Edwin went to shake Garrik’s hand, but Garrik pulled away, still mumbling.

  “Seriously. Do they even teach kids manners anymore?! What’s this world coming to…”

  Edwin interrupted Garrik’s self-discussion. “So, what are you? Some kind of elf? Demigod?”

  With that, Garrik began to laugh, a hint of maniacality in his voice.

  “Demigod?!” Garrik barked a laugh. “That’s new. I’m flattered. Usually people think I’m just lucky.”

  Garrik leaned in, conspiratorially.

  “The truth, though, is much more interesting than that.”

  Edwin’s eyes grew wide again, leaning in as Garrik paused, cleared his throat, and began to tell his story.

  “You see: Long, long ago, back when the village of Tiryl was barely more than a small, muddy encampment, these lands belonged to a great Elf Queen of renowned wisdom and beauty.”

  “Galaxia??” Edwin blurted out. “Her Majesty of Boundless Knowledge? You knew her?!”

  Garrik chuckled. “Knew her? Ha. I was in her personal guard. Lived in her enchanted marble palace.”

  He sighed, reminiscing as if remembering the taste of something expensive.

  “Those were the days… I was young, strong, well-dressed, and stupidly rich. The queen’s guard in those days was paid pretty damn well. I had stables. Fields. People bowed when I rode by; so low their hair practically swept the street.”

  He spread his arms, drinking in an imaginary crowd.

  “I’m telling you, kid… it was glorious.”

  Then, like a switch flipped, his expression shifted into something sly.

  “And there were… other perks.”

  “Perks? What perks?”

  Garrik gave a haughty chuckle, his white teeth glowing in the dark.

  “Let's just say Galaxia and I… Well, we… had a thing.”

  “A thing?” Edwin repeated.

  “Ooooh yeah. A good thing. Well, in her case, several good things…”

  “OKAY!” Edwin yelped, face going pink. He flailed both hands like he was trying to swat the words out of the air. “I get it! I understand! But if that was true - what happened?”

  Edwin gestured to Garrik, as if his appearance was enough explanation that something had to have gone wrong. Garrik’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m getting to that. Be patient and let me have my moment.”

  Edwin shut his lips tight.

  “...Anyway. So there I was - the most powerful knight in Galaxia’s holy army, and her personal suitor. I thought that I was invincible…”

  His eyes trailed off somewhere else, his hand rising behind his head.

  “That is… until I met Jezelle…”

  Edwin gave Garrik a concerned look. “Jezelle?”

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Garrik said quickly, like he could physically shove judgment away with his hands. “You know how it is. Long journey. No contact. You get lonely.”

  Edwin’s stare did not soften.

  Garrik plowed ahead, talking faster, like the words were trying to outrun his own conscience.

  “Jezelle was a young necromancer I met up in the mountains. We were supposed to fight. She had some artifact my Queen wanted destroyed. Very dramatic. Very ‘destiny.’”

  His eyes glazed over again. “She was like me, far from home and rather lonely. I told her that I was a lone rogue. I was here simply following orders, but deep down inside, I wondered what life was really all about… So, naturally, one thing led to another, and…

  “You played them both,” Edwin stated, bluntly.

  “I—” He pointed at Edwin like the accusation was physically unfair. “I suppose you could see it that way, sure, if you ignore all nuance and human weakness…”

  Edwin didn’t blink.

  Garrik threw his hands up. “What was I supposed to do?! Two powerful, magical women fall for you and I’m supposed to make an enemy out of one?! Do you have any idea what either of them could’ve done to me?! They could’ve incinerated me. They could’ve turned me inside out. They could’ve-”

  Garrik stopped himself, covering his face with his hands.

  “The ruse didn’t last long. It’s really hard to keep up two relationships, especially over such a long distance.”

  He sat up, his face becoming more serious.

  “Then came that day: The day it all ended.”

  Edwin crossed his arms, still unimpressed. Garrik swallowed.

  “I told Galaxia I was taking her to a waterfall to watch the sunset. I arranged an orchestra. Actual musicians. Real romantic nonsense. Cost me a fortune. I made it perfect.”

  His voice turned bitter as his face flushed with a long-held embarrassment.

  “And I… forgot I’d promised Jezelle the same day.”

  Edwin’s expression didn’t budge.

  “When I didn’t show,” Garrik continued, “Jezelle came looking for me. She saw the lights. The music. The whole scene. And Galaxia… Galaxia felt an evil presence and went to confront her.”

  His jaw tightened.

  “It didn’t take long for them to realize what had… transpired.”

  Garrik stood, speaking more dramatically. “With that, they fused their magical powers and cursed me with a diabolical Twin Curse - a curse of supreme wrath. They made me immortal, but powerless. No matter what you do to me, I come back.”

  He held up his hands, turning them palm-up like they were evidence in a trial.

  “But I feel everything.”

  His voice sharpened.

  “If I try to fight back - nothing happens. Swords drop out of my hands like dead weight. I cannot cast magic spells. Even if I try to use a regular object as a weapon - I’ll miss.”

  Garrik lowered his head. “Basically, I’m the universe’s punching bag. A cosmic joke.”

  Garrik laughed, despite himself. “Trust me - I’ve tested the limits of the curse. I’ve been bruised, battered, beheaded, boiled alive… you name it, I’ve come back. Even if my body is entirely incinerated, I just pop back into existence like a fairy.

  He clasped his hands together. “Did I deserve to be punished? Yeah, probably. But not like this. This is unfair - cruel. I always thought living forever sounds like freedom, but it's the ‘being unable to die’ part that feels like living in a cage, watching all the people you know complete their lives and pass away, all while you continue to just… exist. If there was a lesson to be learned - I think I've learned it… and I continue to learn it again and again each day."

  With that, Garrik turned towards the road. “So, you can see that no matter what happens - whether I get what was stolen back from me or not - I will be fine. Understand?”

  Edwin raised out his arm, stopping Garrik again. “Wait-” Garrik stopped, looking annoyed once again.

  “I realize that you can’t die - but you can’t guarantee success, either. If you want to get back what was stolen from you, please let my partner and I assist you. We - well, I - am in desperate need of experience points, and I haven’t had any luck finding a good starter quest! I promise, we won’t let you down!”

  Garrik chuckled. “We? Who’s “we?” Some other cosplay artist you’re friends with? I don’t need your help!”

  Edwin crossed his arms. He was sick and tired of being ridiculed, especially on his first official mission as a true Dark Lord-in-training. He stomped his foot, the ground shaking slightly. Behind him, his staff glowed a warm orange color. Garrik stopped speaking.

  “I am NOT a cosplay artist, Mr. Garrik. I am Edwin Draconoff - and someday, I will become the most powerful Dark Lord in history! I may not be a powerful mage yet… But I know more about monsters and magic than the oldest of scholars. In addition, my party includes my personal friend and mentor, Libellia Vorgath, a succubus once known as the Dark Queen of the West!”

  He continued, chest puffed out, his ego in full form. “I realize that we may not look like much, but believe me, I will not rest until I have achieved my goal. You, Mr. Garrik, are an impressive man. Although the consequences of your past actions have caused you to suffer greatly, I wish to assist you and-

  “...Succubus?”

  Edwin paused. Garrik’s pupils had shrunk to mere specks as the word circled in his mind.

  “...Yes?”

  Garrik walked up slowly, a wide grin spreading across his face.

  He placed a hand on Edwin’s shoulder.

  “Milord? I’m in. Let’s take you on a ‘starter quest.’”

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