//------------------------------// // 26: Facts of Life (And Death) // Story: Dark Body, Light Soul (Or the Tale of the Stalfos) // by Garino //------------------------------// Chapter 26: Facts of Life (And Death) You learn a LOT of things when you just sit back and relax. You learn to take it easy so you can concentrate on more difficult parts. You learn that perfect way to sit so you get maximum comfort and minimal pain afterwards. And you learn the perfect way to play a fighting game without getting blisters, unlike your opponent. These are important things to know, but then there are mundane things you learn, such as that test you’re supposed to be studying for, dinner is gonna be ready in five minutes, and an actress has been arrested for breaking probation AGAIN. Of course, this is what I learned while I was relaxing: saddlebags/backpacks make for VERY poor transportation methods. For one, it is extremely stuffy, there isn’t much room to move around, and time passes so slow, you’d think you’re in the distant future with rocket packs, hoverboards, and Taco Bells on every corner once you get out. Also, when the pack hits the ground, it’s not soft. It’s a huge CRASH! All of my parts spilled out into what looked like the king’s bedchambers. Thankfully, it appeared to be empty, save for myself and Marcy. With her help, I reattached myself quickly and quietly. “Thanks for doing this, Marcy,” I whispered. “But what are we doing in here?” “King Griffon trusts me a bit more than the usual courier, so I can set things up for him when he’s busy,” Marcy whispered back. “Besides, you’d rather me dump you in the throne room, in plain sight?” I wisely kept my mouth shut on that topic. Face it, while video games say you can be a one-man army, I know that you can’t be one in real life without a gun, about 5000 bullets of the proper ammo, and about 20 years of fighting experience, all of which I left back home. “So how much time do you have in here?” I asked. She pulled out a semi-huge square box and a bottle of...what was that? I couldn’t read the label with Marcy’s claws in the way. She placed both the bottle (label away so I could see it) and the box on the table. “He gave me a good half-hour to put all of this together. In the meantime, you can get ready for your audience with him.” “Audience...yeah...” I said, a bit uneasily. Marcy stopped opening the box and gave me a look. “What’s wrong? An audience was what you wanted, right?” “Yes,” I replied, rolling my non-existant eyes, “I infiltrated a castle that’s increased its security because two prisoners broke out and, with the help of two others, knocked out a battalion of guards and one of the king’s own Honor Guard just to bring to him awareness that there’s a crack in the arena wall.” This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we in daily speech call ‘sarcasm.’ “No need to be snappy,” Marcy muttered, pulling out a...holy shit, is that CAKE?!? She did! She pulled a chocolate cake out of the box! Holy crap, it’s been so long since I had cake, like since my birthday. And let me tell you, that was the craziest party in the history of Ker- “Are you listening to me, Daniel?” “Huh?” Uh-oh. Probably should’ve been paying attention. Marcy sighed. “Listen, I know you’ve got a little crusade going, wanting to strike down the King, but...reconsider.” “Why?” I asked. “Don’t tell me you two are...” “No, Dan, we’re not,” Marcy sighed. “But he’s got enough problems as it is. You wouldn’t know it, but...King Highwind is the only thing keeping this city together." *insert record needle scratch here* "No," I shook my head. "He's the cause of all of this. He's been ruling Necro City with an iron fist for two years!" "Dan, there's a reason we have daily tournaments. We. Love. Fighting. Every aspect of it: from a fist colliding with a jaw, steel against steel, to the crushing of bone and sinew and seeing one's head part company with their body. We will find ANY reason to fight, so the king helped build the arena, so we could fight whenever we wanted. If anyone ever dared to challenge Griffon's rule, they'd be starting the only thing the king fears above all else: a civil war." Marcy poured a tiny bit of alcohol onto the cake for soaking before she took a sip from the bottle. "If that ever happened..." I didn't need to be told anymore. The only war worse than a world war where everyone fights everyone is a civil war where brother would fight against brother. I let out a chuckle as I realized my actions for the past few days. "What's so funny?" "It's just...you'd never guess that I actually hate fighting," I said, putting on my hat. "In truth, I despise conflict of any type. I refused to speak my mind if I felt the other person would argue with me, unless I knew I was right. Or I wouldn't do something if I guessed someone would yell at me, unless I was told to do it. But conflict is unavoidable. As long as there are two sentient beings, there will always be conflict." "Well, it's unavoidable," Marcy agreed, "but if you don't clash with others, you'll be nothing but the mat in front of a door. Never be afraid to voice an opinion or do something just because you want to please someone. It's the fastest way to become broken and cynical." I leaned on the table, careful not to interfere with the gryphon's work. I knew she was right, but I still didn't like it. I wasn't kidding when I said I despise conflict. And yes, I know my actions don't really line up with my words. But back home, I would rather leave my fighting in the games I played, and even then I was timid in what I did. Sadly, it meant I was an easy target because I rarely fought back. Totally cliche, right? Sadly, you can't make up the things that happen in your life. I was still skeptical that talking it out would work, since it never did before. But...it's bound to work sometime...right? "Listen, Marcy," I muttered, "I can't say we won't fight. I'll try talking, but I can't say it'll work. If worse comes to worst and he attacks me...I will fight back. You must understand that." Marcy finished messing with the cake and nodded. "As long as you're willing to try. I hope it doesn't come down to it, but if it does," she grabbed my skull and shook it, making my whole body rattle, "knock a bit of sense into him." I placed my shield on my left arm, my warhammer on my back, the sword hilt on my hip, and blocked out the light. A king must be able to defend himself if he's attacked, and I doubted Griffon was any different. His surname, Highwind...why did it sound so significant? I hoped I didn't have to find out immediately. As I let the light reenter my vision, Marcy had the cake ready for whatever. Maybe if this all went well, I could eat a slice with the king while we talked about Keeta. ...or just eat the cake and not speak, that would work better. I opened the door to the throne room. The king looked over and spoke. "Ah, Marcy, glad to se-" he cut himself off when he realized it wasn't the zombie courier, but the Stalfos warrior. His eyes narrowed as he growled, "Who are you, and what have you done to Marcy?!?" "She's still getting things ready," I replied. "Totally unharmed. As for who I am, the name's Daniel Fortesque, Dan for short. And I wish for an audience, your majesty."