light had to obey.
And in the center of the room, with his back turned, casting no shadows at all, stood a man dressed in flowing golden robes. He wore a golden scepter encrusted with diamonds at his right hip and a straight sword with a red gem set into its pommel sheathed at his left. Across his back was slung a cylindrical staff as tall as the man. The smooth bark of the Great Forest coated the Battlemage staff, and a glass orb was set into its top.
Ted’s fingernails dug into his palms. His sword. His staff. His father.
The Emperor turned to the side, but didn’t look back. He grabbed thin air and pulled, as if manipulating invisible threads, blissfully unaware of what stalked him.
Ted snuck up to the doorway.
Still no response.
He put his foot forward, and an invisible wall across the doorway blocked his path. Ted reached out with his hand, and a barrier tingled against his fingers. Magic, of a kind, although not Force magic—that would have dampened his motions, and never tingled like that.
Within the room, the Emperor continued whatever work he was doing, pinching and dragging empty air. Would he notice a spell?
Ted’s insides clenched. No choice, not really. He had to get in, and he couldn’t do that without seeing what was in his way. He pulled on his mana and cast Visibility upon the barrier.
A wall of colored light blazed before him, and what color—it wasn’t red, or blue, or purple, or any other color Ted had ever seen.
The Emperor clapped his hands together and turned upon Ted. “I call it octarine,” Father said, the corners of his mouth turning upward.
Biting pain quivered in Ted’s chest and thoughts scattered to the wind. “He’s dead, you know.”
“Oh.” Father tilted his head, and his brow furrowed. “What do you get your mom for Christmas, then?”
“I don’t.” Never had. Not since that day.
“I see.” There was a moment’s pause, then Father strolled forward.
Edwin fell back, nearly blinded by the teal gleam of Father’s Protection magic passing through the barrier.
“Now, boy,” Father said, advancing still, “do you realize how much easier this would have been had you accepted my offer in Hallowed Falls?”
Edwin’s lips trembled as he stumbled back, falling onto his ass. “Bring her back.”
“Who?”
“Cara.”
Father chuckled and shook his head. “Once you’ve returned my Companion to me, we can discuss the fate of yours.”
Ted pulled himself to his feet. Clenched his fists. “Bring. Her. Back.”
“Tick-tock,” the Emperor said, raising his hand and rocking it back and forth like a metronome. “I wouldn’t dally too long; souls are fickle things, and the System’s garbage collection is very particular.”
Drawing his falchion, Ted lunged at the bastard.
The Emperor clicked his fingers and a force seized Ted, securing every inch of him. “You may have locked out my administrative privileges, but my improved stats remain.”
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“Cheated stats,” Ted spat out, even that small motion an epic struggle.
“The words don’t matter, boy. Your choices do.” The Emperor clicked his fingers again, and the pressure holding Ted in place magnified, crushing against his chest and pressing his jaw closed.
Ted glanced at the barrier. So close, yet so far. The room beyond looked much like that of the control panel beneath Tarkath. If he could get past the barrier, the room itself would keep him safe from harm.
“It may not feel like it,” the Emperor said, casually strolling a circle around Ted, wagging his finger at his son, “but you’re making progress.”
Ted’s blood boiled. He tried to scream curses and threats, but even his tongue was held in place.
“You assassinated a legitimate ruler, then executed the woman who’d helped you do it. You made a deal with me, and then promptly betrayed me. You made a deal with the Destroyer, and—if you’re not totally stupid—you intend to betray him as well.”
Ted said nothing, silently seething. What choice did he have?
The Emperor squared up to Ted. His eyes narrowed, and he peered down the corridor over Ted’s shoulder. “Now tell me,” he said, “which of us holds the moral high ground here?”
A flood of curse words rushed to the fore, but Ted’s jaw still refused to move.
The Emperor’s lips pressed together into a cruel smile. “Nothing to say for yourself?”
Ted stared at the barrier. This wasn’t his father, not anymore. He focused his attention on the room beyond and mentally cast Teleport.
Nothing happened.
“I don’t have to click my fingers together, of course,” the Emperor said, “but it’s so very satisfying, don’t you think?” The Emperor clicked his fingers again.
The pressure lessened around Ted’s jaw. “Fuck you.”
“Tut, tut, tut. Not even going to try and con me like all the other dead souls you’ve left behind?”
Ted glared back and recast Teleport. Again, the spell went off without a hitch, but no result. The room beyond was blocked out to Portals magic.
The Emperor turned away with a shrug. “I suppose I should be glad that my son does not consider me a complete retard.”
“Let me into the control room,” Ted said, “and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I’m sure you would,” the Emperor said with a dark chuckle. “First, though, I’ll need Alenia back.”
“What do you care?”
The Emperor stared at the wall. “I can afford to wait, unlike your toy ranger.”
“‘They aren’t people’, remember?”
“Is that the way you want to play it?” The Emperor turned on Ted. His jaw clenched, and he mimed a metronome once again. “Tick-tock, boy. Tick-tock.”
“How many deals did you do with Death?”
Silence came back.
Ted paused. Why was the Emperor so damned insistent upon this? He didn’t care about the harm he did to anyone else, only Alenia.
Only his Companion.
The Emperor clicked his fingers, dismissing the restraining force. “Last chance, Ted. Take me to Alenia, or I shall be forced to take a firmer hand.”
Ted sucked in air, and his whole being clenched up. “If I do… you’ll bring Cara back?”
The Emperor said nothing. Time dragged by
“Please, Father…” Ted looked down at the floor. The same granite floor upon which Cara’s blood now pooled. “Whatever your price, I’ll pay it.”
“Very well,” the Emperor said. “But if this is another trick, I will resurrect Cara, and then you will watch as I torture her to death again, and again, and again. Do you understand me, boy?”
Ted meekly nodded his head. There was no other way, not any that he could see.
The Emperor shoved Ted back, away from the control room. “Move.”
With a bowed head, Ted did as he was told. Headed back. Back towards where Alenia had murdered Cara.
The Emperor walked alongside him. He held his head up high, and he hummed an upbeat tune.
Ted put one foot in front of the other, scuffing his feet as he ambled along, each step a little short than the last.
He slowly fell behind. Bit by bit, he fell back out of the Emperor’s line of sight.
This was it. His last chance.
Ted grabbed Milo’s axe and lunged. He poured all his spirit and as much mana as he dared into a Deathtouch in his left hand while he swung at the Emperor’s neck with his right.
The Emperor turned. His eyes went wide. His hands came up, too slow to make a difference.
Dispel flared in the axe, sparking against the Emperor’s Protection magic. White light crackled. The axe head collided with the Emperor’s neck, and Ted unleashed the Death spell into his father’s chest.
The Emperor’s gaze met his, and the world exploded.
The axe head shattered. A blast smashed Ted against the wall, bashing his head into a daze, and shards of metal slashed at his cheeks and hands.
An outstretched palm slammed into Ted’s chest, pinning him against the wall and ripping the mana from his body. The mana flooded out through the Emperor’s touch, ignoring any cries to stop.
Head spinning, vision blurring, Ted looked his father in the eyes.
Seething rage stared back at him. “I gave you every opportunity,” Father said, grabbing Ted by the throat with his other hand. “Every chance to become a god.”
Ted’s lungs gasped for air, and the last dredges of his mana drained away.
A sneer spread across Father’s face. “And don’t worry—death won’t be rescuing you any time soon.”
