Survivor: Definitely Not Minecraft

Gastard was still under the influence of a potion of strength, and it showed. My head snapped back, and my nose cracked under the blow of his gauntleted fist. I took a step back, gritting my teeth, and put a hand over my face, my ears ringing. I’d killed two demons, and the only damage I’d taken had been from a troll and my friend.

"What the hell?"

"You were supposed to be free of them!" Gastard was livid. "What was the point of this, if you are still bargaining with the shadow?"

"It's more complicated than that." Blood was pouring from one nostril, and my voice sounded muffled. "They aren't all the same."

Erdene ended her prayer and stood. Her gaze was dangerous. "You have asked for my trust. But I cannot trust someone who keeps a demon at their side."

Gastard took a step toward me, and Celaeno flapped down between us. She was nearly five feet tall, and when she spread her wings, she seemed even larger. "No closer, human, or I will take your eyes."

Gastard was visibly struggling with his anger. His jaw hardened, and he turned to the side. "You are my liege lord, and I should not have struck you. I will accept whatever punishment you deem fitting."

"Don't be like that," I said. “It's okay. Just give me a minute to explain." Rather than waste a healing potion, I fished out a beet from my pack and powered my way through it. Erdene watched in bafflement as I devoured the vegetable. Something popped in my nose, and the bleeding stopped. My nasal passages were clogged, but I could breathe properly again.

"What is there to explain?" Batu asked, still leaning against the palisade, his youthful face colored by disdain. "You are the Dark Lord of Dargoth. Whatever you did today, you did for your self-interest. You are not an ally to my people, and you never will be."

I looked at the shaman. "Do you know anything about Harmony and Discord?"

"Discord and Bedlam are one," she said cautiously. "What does it matter?"

"That's the thing. These two big forces are fighting in the universe, in all the universes, and almost everyone gets claimed by one side or the other, even if they don't pick that for themselves. But according to my System, I'm still neutral, and I think I want to stay that way."

Gastard grunted his disagreement. "There is no neutrality to be found between the shadow and the light. If you do not walk with Gotte, then you walk with devils."

"Harmony and Discord are not light and shadow," I said. “Those are just metaphors, or color palettes, or something. I mean, yes, the bad guys are bad, and the good guys are good, but that's not the end of the story. I don't know enough about the cosmology to explain it properly. But Astaroth doesn't want to serve the One Who Knocks. He's promised to be on my side, me exclusively, not one god or the other. We can talk through this, and once you've heard what he has to say, we’ll vote on it, okay?"

"Very well," Gastard said, giving Furtur's body a nudge with his boot. "You will hear Esmelda's council, at least, if you refuse to hear mine. The demon's execution may be stayed, but not for long."

Celaeno’s answering caw was angry. "Our patriarch speaks. If he invites the demon to the flock, so be it.."

"Harpies do not have a vote," Gastard said.

"We will see." Celaeno flapped her wings and took to the air, circling the palisade once before flying off toward what was left of the monster regiment.

"And what do you want from us?" Erdene asked. "Are we still your prisoners?"

I sighed. It would be more convenient if I could force them to stay and listen, but holding the shaman and the orkhan captive would not be conducive to improving the relationship between our nations. I wanted to give them a show of good faith.

"I want you to stay," I said. "But you can go if you want, on the condition that you take a message from me back to your people."

"More lies," Batu scoffed. "I am no messenger."

"Just tell your father, or whoever is in charge, that I don't want us to be enemies. Dargoth is going to become a peaceful nation once I banish the demons." I focused on Erdene. She was still skeptical, but her attitude wasn't nearly as adversarial as the kid's. "The former Dark Lord is imprisoned in Mount Doom. I need your help, your magic, if I'm going to keep him that way."

"My help, or the help of demons? You cannot have both."

"We're going to talk about that," I said. "You're welcome to join us."

Gastard and I had a quick chat with the nearest officer. I hadn't been keeping track of the soldiers, but I recognized the man. His name was Gulf, and he'd been in Dargoth's military service for most of his life. He had dark skin, and his steel gray hair was cropped short. No more monsters were attacking the camp. Those that hadn't burned away were still hiding in what remained of Gaap's fog, which was shifting to the east. The soldier put his hand to his chest in a salute.

"My lord," he said. "Forgive my boldness, but what is going on?"

"I've had a disagreement with the demons," I said. "We are going back to Mount Doom. Tell the captives that they are free to go and that Dargoth wants peace. Other than that, try to get everyone ready to be on the move within the hour."

If this turn of events surprised him, he didn't show it. "As you say," he bowed, then glanced around the camp. "The wagons, my lord…"

Shoot. Monsters had pulled most of the supply train. Fladnag had an ox, but aside from that, there were only a handful of horses along, any draft animals. That had been stupid of me. We would have to travel with what we could take on our backs.

"Sort out the supplies as best you can," I said. "We'll have to leave things behind. I'm giving you the authority to organize this mess as best you can. If anyone has a problem with it, send them to me, alright?"

His back straightened, and he saluted again. "Yes, my lord."

Gastard and I went to find Esmelda, and I noticed Erdene was trailing behind us.

"Are you staying?" I asked her.

The shaman’s lips turned down. "Batu is going back to Torgudai, but I think I owe it to the high shaman to learn more before I follow him."

"So, you're spying on me?"

"Yes." Her expression did not change.

"Great. I've got nothing to hide."

Gastard remained silent, but moved closer to the shaman, keeping a hand on the hilt of his sword. I didn't think she intended to threaten us, but it was good to know he was still primed to protect me, even if he didn't agree with my choices. We found Esmelda applying a bandage to the arm of a wounded soldier. I didn't love that she was out of hiding. She was the only lillit in the camp, which meant that she would be hard to miss if a demon had come looking for her, but the immediate danger had passed, so there was no point in arguing about it now.

A pair of harpies perched on top of a nearby wagon, and they responded with some amiable croaks when I waved at them in greeting. The Dargothians parted as I approached. Most of them treated me with a mixture of fear and respect. Since becoming the Dark Lord, I had done little to convince my subjects that I was any more personable than the man they still believed me to be.

Pretending that there had been no usurpation had seemed like the easiest course to maintain order, but I was wondering whether I should have been honest about it from the beginning. Being a Survivor with a stronghold came with the advantage of inspiring loyalty and followers. The Throne of Shadows was mine, along with everything that came with it, and I might have just been confusing matters by maintaining the illusion of continuity. By now, all the demons were aware Kevin had been overthrown. For all I knew, the general populace of Dargoth would be happy to learn that there was someone new at the helm.

Salutes and bows from the soldiers and camp followers followed as I came to a stop a little distance from my wife. Esmelda wasn't wearing her armor, and I didn't see Leto at all. She patted the shoulder of the man she had been helping and walked over to us.

"The harpies told me it was over," she said, her gray eyes meeting mine. "Did any of the demons escape?"

I gave her a summary of what had happened, including my conversation with Astaroth before the fighting began. Her face didn't give me any hints about what she thought of the change in plans, though the fact that she was keeping her expression blank might have been hint enough. She looked past me to the shaman.

"You must be Erdene," she said. "I apologize for not introducing myself formally before. My name is Esmelda."

The shaman came closer, Gastard at her heels, and looked Esmelda up and down.

"What are you?"

Esmelda's cheeks colored, and Gastard cut in quickly. "She is Dargoth's queen, and you will accord her the respect she is owed."

Erdene shrugged. "Atlan has no kings or queens. An orkhan can be a man or a woman, but their consorts have no special authority. I meant to ask if she was a…I don't know the Kevinian word. A baga khun."

It wasn't a phrase included in Fladnag's book, but I could guess the meaning, and Esmelda did as well.

"I am a lillit," she said. "What of it?"

"I meant no offense," Erdene raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I have never seen one of your kind before." She looked from Esmelda to me. "The two of you are wed?"

"We are." Where was she going with this? Esmelda's race, and our relationship, should have been the last thing on the shaman's mind. The woman knelt, not to me, but to Esmelda.

"Your people are precious to the Great Eagle. He says that you are favored by the blue goddess and that though you lived in the dark lands for an age, you never succumbed to its taint."

"Well," Esmelda said, mollified, "that is accurate."

Batu had mentioned a Great Eagle before, and I had assumed it was a mythical beast, but now I was wondering if it was a title. "Who is the Great Eagle?" I asked.

"A higher being," Erdene said. "Every year, the orkhans travel to Salenus to pay him homage. Many never see him, but when he appears, he shares his wisdom with the elders. It is by the will of the Great Eagle that we ride into Dargoth. He watches over Atlan, and the entire world, and tells us when the time has come to strike at the dark lands again."

"Is he a god?"

Erdene shook her head. "Not like the blue lady or the dark one that the demons serve. We honor him, but honor is not the same as worship. It was the Great Eagle who taught the shamans of old to wield the light and banish the creatures of Bedlam."

So there was a powerful entity messing around in Plana. What would his rank be? Higher than mine, certainly. Given that he was operating in direct opposition to the One Who Knocks, the demons had to know something about him.

Esmelda was listening with interest. "I've never heard of this. There's nothing about a Great Eagle in the Shui."

"Where's Leto?" I asked her. "Is he alright? We need to get everyone together so we can talk."

"He's fine," Esmelda said, giving me a reassuring smile. "Fladnag came to check on him as soon as the mist cleared. They're back in the wagon now."

The camp was not in great shape. Wagons were overturned, and people were injured, mostly with burns. The fire that banished monsters harmed people as well, but it didn't catch in the grass or the other flammables around. I could already see soldiers running around spreading the order I

had given Gulf. Fladnag had unhooked his ox from his wagon, and he was busily attaching bundles and boxes from inside to a complicated-looking harness on the back of his animal. Leto was happily helping him with the ties, acting as an extra set of hands.

"Yours is the one wagon that could still move," I said. "I'm surprised you're willing to leave it behind."

Fladnag turned but didn't greet me. There were deep bags under his eyes, and he was even paler than usual. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, though he probably slept more than the rest of us combined. In the distance, I could see Astaroth sitting in a meditative posture, alone in a section of the field scorched free of grass. Harpies surrounded him. They were on the ground, and though they were too far away for me to hear anything they were saying, the sight was closer to a conference than a trial. All birds. Maybe they would get along.

Leto waved excitedly at us as we approached. "Fladnag says he's going to set off his illuminators. The biggest he's got."

"Is that wise?" Esmelda asked.

"I'd like to see that," I said, "but maybe we should hold off celebrating until we're back home and we settle all of this."

Erdene screamed. Her eyes flashed with silver, and light shone around the edges of her hands, as she pointed them at Fladnag. Gastard had never stopped watching the shaman or strayed more than a pace from her side, and now he tackled her, taking her to the ground and jamming his knee into her back.

"Monster!" she shrieked. "Demon!"

Erdene fought to get out from under Gastard, but she was pinned by a six-foot-plus man wearing a hundred pounds of armor, and her efforts were fruitless. Esmelda gasped, her head swiveling as she searched for an enemy. But the surrounding camp had frozen, and the only demon in sight was sitting quietly a football field away. I pulled my sword, as confused as my wife.

Could Erdene see something we couldn't? Had Malphas survived and used a spell to hide himself? I tried to reach out with my aetheric sense, but it was as lackluster as ever. The shaman had a faint aura. Esmelda and Gastard were even fainter. Fladnag’s spirit was brighter than ever, but there was something wrong with that brightness. It tinged the flame of his soul, turning it oily and bitter.

"Such a disappointment," the old man said. "You had to be good. This would have been so much easier if you were biddable."

"What are you talking about?" We were only ten paces apart, but as I moved closer, he knelt beside Leto and wrapped his arm around him, pressing his stump against my son's chest.

"Stop there," he said. "All of you, stop. You need to listen to me, and listen well."

"Hey," Leto said. "Let me go." He pushed against Fladnag, but he might as well have been pushing against a statue. Gastard's gaze locked on them, and ever so slowly, he was shifting his weight to take the pressure off of Erdene's back. The shaman was no longer fought, and the glow of her magic had faded, but her body was tense. Her hands pressed into the earth, ready to spring up the moment she was no longer restrained.

"That man is a servant of darkness," she said. "He has come to us before with lies and treachery, seeking to destroy Salenus."

What was she talking about? All I could focus on was Fladnag and his demand.

"I'm listening," I said, "but you need to let Leto go."

"This world is cruel," Fladnag tightened his grip. "All worlds are cruel. It is a mistake to become attached to anything you cannot defend. It is a mistake to have anything you are not willing to let go. I learned that lesson, and now you must learn it as well. I truly considered giving up, but I'm sorry, William, you cannot turn back. We cannot turn back. The monument will fall, and the storm will spread. We cannot stop until the One Who Knocks has taken this world for his own."

"You were a hero," Esmelda said, a catch in her voice. "The goddess chose you. Are you not Lord Umber? Was all of it a lie?"

"It was the truth." Fladnag's expression was agonized. He looked older by the second. "Every word. My past, my deeds, but none of it counts for anything now. I will give them what they want, even if it means taking your son from you. Kevin was useless, and he had nothing we could threaten. But I won't wait any longer. There will be no more heroes, just an ending at last."

"Calvin," I was fighting to remain calm, "it is Calvin, right? Why are you doing this? Why would you, of all people, want to help the bad guys?"

His answer was simple.

"Because they have my son."