Look at me.
Just look at me, would you?
How pathetic have I become? Reduced to this...shadow of my former self. No pun intended, of course. But seriously, what's happened to the world while I was locked in that thrice cursed bottle? There's...what...six fake Evil Kings now? Six! And more, by the looks of things! And more stupid, pedantic Heroes than I could shake a stick at. Assuming, of course, I was inclined to do so, as opposed to just setting them on fire or something. It wasn't always like this.
Three hundred years ago, before I was locked in that blasted bottle...alone...by myself...I was the greatest Evil King in the world. Not that that's saying much, if I'm going to be perfectly honest with myself. I was the only Evil King in the world. That's how it should be: one Evil King, one pig-headed Hero, and a lot of destruction. That was my favorite part. I could raze entire cities to the ground just by looking at them. You know that ruin, over on the other side of Triste? That was me. I did that. I'm very proud of that.
I had such high hopes for myself. We all had high hopes for me. I was going to be the One. You know, the one that actually manages to win in the end? Things were looking good, too. The Hero was a complete moron. He was a kid, a little older than my slave Ari, and that's being generous. I almost felt sorry for the poor kid. Almost. Not enough to take pity on him or anything, but almost.
Let's see...there were more cities back then, and I don't remember the names of them all. Not that I cared. One city looks pretty much like another when they're in flames, and when you're seen one screaming peasant, you've seen them all. But it was on that plateau west of the tunnel to the snowfields. I think. Maybe it was one in the mountains...oh well. That hardly matters now.
The day I was finally beaten, and most ignobly if I may say so. I was having fun, blast it all! They were screaming, and I was laughing, and that one girl...
Oh, yes. That girl. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She just looked at me with those big, blue puppy dog eyes like she knew what was coming. If I could go back and do it again, I wouldn't even have looked at her; I would have just blasted her to smithereens and gone on with my life. But she was just a child. I'm sure I must have been responsible for the deaths of many children before her, but there was just something about her. The way she just stood there off to the side, holding that tattered teddy bear. She reminded of something. You know, like something from another life? That thing that you think you should be able to remember, but you just can't because it never actually happened. But then it does happen, and you get that déjà vu feeling. That's what it felt like.
A little girl in a red dress with a thread bare bear...
Marlene kind of reminds me of that girl. I think that's why I just hated her so much on sight. Well, that and the fact that she keeps trying to steal my slave! What's wrong with her? Can't she find her own?
That little girl, though. She was my undoing. I saw her, and I just stopped. I hesitated. I think I would even have let her go if Stupid hadn't interfered. He came at me from behind wielding a sword that belonged to someone twice his size. It was almost comical to watch him bumble around and try to attack me. He did manage to hit me while I was distracted by that girl, but after that he just sort of jumped around, tripping on his own two feet the whole time. It was the strangest thing, though. He couldn't seem to hit me, but I couldn't seem to hit him, either. I like to think it was just fool's luck, but I do wonder sometimes...
He was yelling, and people were yelling. I saw the old man, but I didn't pay much attention to him. If I had, it all might have gone differently.
Damn, I wish I had.
The kid futilely tried to jump out of the way as I blasted him; but he tripped, and I missed anyway. Go figure. By this time, I wasn't having fun anymore. I was just irritated. I blasted a few pedestrians as they ran past, and I missed them, too. Now, I know my aim isn't that bad, and those brainless sheep were flocking so close together, they were practically begging to be killed. That's when I figured out something was going on. The kid took my moment of distraction to hit me again, and I turned to attack him. He dodged, of course.
Well, no. He didn't actually dodge. I have to reiterate that point. He had no idea what he was doing. I could tell he was amazed that he was still alive. I was amazed that he was still alive. Something was watching over him. I had, by now, completely forgotten about the old man. The kid ran past me and managed to slash me again. Again, I attacked and missed. And again. I have to reiterate that point, too, because it was at that point that I decided to just take him out with my bare hands.
When he slashed at me again, I focused all my magical shielding into my hand and grabbed the sword by the blade. The look on that kid's face was priceless as I yanked it away. Then, I grabbed him by throat. He stumbled back, and I went forward with him until I had him shoved against a crumbling wall. That's when it happened.
I saw that little girl again. Her face was covered in blood. There was a hole in her chest; not clean through, but enough to see her little heart take its last beat. She gasped once and went still.
I don't know what came over me, then. I knew I had killed her and...I actually cared. It felt like I had killed a family member or something. Even demons like me have something like love for family. I think I maybe almost started to cry, in fact. In fact, I probably would have if I hadn't quite suddenly and violently been distracted by a sharp piece of metal as it interacted with my torso. That little Hero brat stabbed me! Me! Evil King Stan! I was actually distracted enough by that little girl to allow myself to be stabbed.
Pathetic.
I stumbled backward. I could hear someone saying something, but I was more interested in pulling the knife out of my chest than paying attention. Everything was starting to go dark. I don't think I was actually dying, but I may have been losing consciousness. I remember seeing the old man, and I remember wondering what he was still doing this close to ground zero holding a bottle and muttering. When I came to, I was stuck inside it.
For three hundred years, I was stuck in that bottle, alone with my thoughts. Even James would have been good company. He probably could have gotten me out of there. Come to think of it, I wonder why he didn't try...
Not that it matters, now. I think I know what happened, though. I think that old man was Pollack. I think the kid's job was just to weaken me enough that they'd be able to trap me. They, or at least Pollack wanted me to be here to beat this Beiloune guy. And I'm pretty sure that if it hadn't been for that little girl, they would never have succeeded.
So here I am, three hundred years later. I've been freed from one prison only to be shoved into another, namely my slave's shadow. And being nothing more than a shadow...wait, no. Being little more...
Physically being a shadow, in the physical sense of the word only...
Oh, I give up. I'm stuck inside a shadow. I have next to no access to my power. I am...I must admit, if only to myself...little more than a shadow. And being little more than a shadow, I can't exist if there's no light.
And that damnable, pig-headed, pork-legged, ugly, sorry excuse for a Hero woman figured it out! So here I am, stuck in the dark. By myself. Alone.
I'm so lonely. I'm so lonely, I'm talking to myself. It's official. I have reached an all-time low. I am so glad that damn Hero woman can't hear me now.
You know, I would never, ever, ever tell him this, but Slave Ari has kind of grown on me. He doesn't prattle on endlessly like some people (Kisling), and he doesn't keep trying to hit on me like Linda. That would be disturbing. And he's actually rather intelligent, unlike meat-brained Big Bull. And most importantly, he's not that damnable Hero woman. Or Marlene.
I would never say this where anyone could me, but I kind of like Ari.
Come to think of it, he kind of reminds me of...
I hate that girl.
I hate her, and I hate that I hate her, and I hate that I can't bring myself to hate her! Everything that has gone wrong in my life is her fault, and I don't even know her name. What did she have against that she should invoke such...human feelings in me? And why does the sight of her broken body haunt me so? I don't understand it. I'm a demon. I don't care about humans, except to enjoy the sight of them as they bleed. Or burn. I like to burn things.
It's her fault I can't take over the world. Not that I've lost my power, although that was her fault, too. No, it's that every time I actually try to do something evil, I see her again and it all turns out good. I've got people in Tenel calling me an angel. People in Madril seem to think I'm cute and funny. And every single stupid time I try to prove them wrong, I see her again and end up proving them right. Everything I do turns out right. It makes me want to kill something.
Only I can't because of her.
And so, here I am. Little more than a shadow trying to get back everything I've lost. Me, Evil King Stan, held in check by nothing more than simple darkness. All alone with my thoughts...