Look, seventeen is my favorite number. Seventeen is the new eighteen. I'm sorry. It's eighteen now.
An hour later, Dimentio was up, cleaned, and dressed in fresh clothing. He had a closet full of purple and yellow, all tailored to fit him perfectly. The clothes seemed exactly like his usual clothes at first glance, though looking closely revealed they were much fancier than anything he ever wore before. The edges were gilded and the fabric was made of rare pider silk instead of rough sleepy sheep wool. Also, instead of plain purple and yellow with sparkles, there were patterns of intricate vines and flowers woven into the cloth. His shoes were soft and delicate, clearly not made for walking. Not that he ever did walk, but his normal shoes were nowhere near this nice.
Outside of his room was a long hallway which stretched endlessly to the left and right of his room. The entire far wall was windows, letting Dimentio see the landscape: a crystal clear lake, a row of mountains behind it, and a calm blue sky above them. He could see palace grounds of lush green gardens, and beyond that a village in the distance. Inside the hallway were marble pillars, a cathedral ceiling, and more fantastic works of art.
Beside his room was a portrait that interested Dimentio greatly. It showed a throne room, and sitting on the throne, rendered in exquisite detail, was Dimentio holding a brown staff with a jeweled top. That's the Count's staff! Dimentio realized excitedly. Beside him was a tall, slender Jester woman who looked much like him. Her mask face was softer and more feminine, and she was more willowy than he was.
Dimentio suddenly remembered the bed this morning, how it had been slept in on both sides. His stomach clenched with the sudden realization of what those two things meant. He slowly reached out and touched the painting. To his surprise, it wasn't canvas under his fingers but wood. "I am a king here," he whispered, "and I have a queen."
This was all wrong. Where was Count Bleck? Where was Nastasia? Where were Mimi and O'Chunks and Tippi? Where was Castle Bleck, Dimension Bleck? Where was home?
But at the same time, he was king. There was no denying this was a pretty sweet deal. King, yes, but of what world? Perhaps the deal wasn't as wonderful as all that.
Still, though...
Another Shy Guy rounded the corner. This one, to Dimentio, looked exactly like the one from earlier, but when it said, "Oh! I'm surprised to see you up, Your Lordship. I had heard you were feeling unwell," Dimentio guessed it was a completely different person.
"Is there anything interesting on the agenda today?"
"Just to enjoy another one of your perfect days," said the Shy Guy.
One of my perfect days? Dimentio wondered with a nervous edge. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what the Shy Guy was talking about.
"Where are the records kept?" asked Dimentio, suddenly not caring if he looked like he didn't know what he was doing. He just needed the answer.
The Shy Guy looked flustered. "Where? Um, the same place they're always kept..." He trailed off as he saw Dimentio's angry face. "I mean, in the vault! Under the castle! Is- is that not right?"
Dimentio covered his face with his hands for a moment, and when they took them away, he had his normal calm, composed, annoyingly cheerful face on. "Yes. Of course they are. Thank you for playing along."
The Shy Guy laughed nervously.
"I'm going to go and..."
"... find the scholar to open the doors?" suggested the Shy Guy.
"Yes," agreed Dimentio. "The usual place?"
"In the library."
"Of course." He turned around and floated down the halls, leaving the confused Shy Guy behind.
The castle, Dimentio found, had the same layout as Castle Bleck. He found himself floating through the halls with ah eerily familiar sense of where he was and where he was going. At first he was just floating around looking for something, but when he realized he knew exactly where he was at all times, instead of comforting him it made him feel even more out of place.
Suddenly, on his way to Castle Bleck's library, he turned around and went straight to the Meeting Room. Here, instead of an empty expanse with pedestals, he saw that it was an open room with stained glass windows on the far wall. There were eight windows with sunlight streaming through them, casting light in every color of the rainbow into the white room. They depicted scenes which made Dimentio uncomfortable: A purple void, a world beneath it, eight pure hearts, an idyllic countryside, Dimentio in all his glory...
Above each window was a stone heart set into the wall.
"What happened to the Pure Hearts?" he asked out loud. Last he knew, they were bouncing all around creation, spreading love and goodness free after being trapped in one place for so long. It didn't take a genius to connect the eight stone hearts in the wall to signify something bad happening to the embodiment of love.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Dimentio turned around saw that the willowy jester woman from the portrait was now standing just inside the doorway. She slowly glided over towards him, her toes skimming the ground. When she got to him, she reached her fingers out and lightly ran them over his shoulder.
"Yes," he said smoothly.
"Another perfect day." She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. "Feeling much better, I trust?"
"Oh, much," Dimentio agreed. He didn't like her touching him. He didn't really like anyone touching him, really, but this was particularly uncomfortable. He didn't even know her name. "Now, I was just heading to the library when I got sidetracked..."
"Aww," pouted the woman, still holding him close. She ran her hands slowly down his back in a frankly suggestive way that gave Dimentio chills, both the bad kind and the good kind, at the same time. "You're always running off to some library or conference or disaster. You never have time for me."
"Soon, my pet." Dimentio had no idea if that was what he ever called her, but he had a feeling that if he ever had a significant other, that would be the sort of pet name he would use. That or "my puni little pider," thought just thinking of using that now made the light purple of his face turn pink. "It's a matter of utmost importance."
"Of course it is," she sighed, letting him go. Dimentio loosened up a little when she did. "It always is when you're the emperor."
Hearing his title sent a shiver down his spine. It felt right, somehow. The fact that it did scared him. "Yes... but directly after, I'll meet you. I promise." The lie came easily.
She leaned in and kissed him, straight on the mouth. Then she giggled and disappeared in a flip.
As soon as she was gone, Dimentio wiped his mouth. He couldn't stand contact with others.
"I'm so glad you came," said Bookworm.
Bookworm was a long, lime green and purple striped worm with oversized whirly glasses and spindly, curly arms. Dimentio had never seen the likes of him before, and couldn't imagine what kind of world he came from, but all that was put aside in favor of the fact that Bookworm had the books and he knew what was going on.
"I've been asking for years, you know to have you go over everything, make sure the records are kept to your liking. It's your story, after all. You deserve to know that it's all going down right."
Bookworm slithered through the library, and Dimentio followed. The library was enormous. The vaulted ceiling hung above them higher than any ceiling in Castle Bleck, higher than the clouds it seemed like. The shelves stretched all the way up, covering every inch of wall that wasn't dedicated to windows letting in as much light as possible. If gravity weren't such a harsh mistress, there would be bookshelves on the ceiling.
They were nearly completely empty.
This library had enough room to hold all the books ever written, and it was empty.
"Curiouser and curiouser," murmured Dimentio.
"Beg pardon?" Bookworm glanced back.
"Nothing," said Dimentio.
They arrived at a tiny corner of the library, under a balcony that held presumably more books. This corner had a small door behind a stand-alone bookshelf. Bookworm pulled a rather thick book off the shelf and opened it. To Dimentio's surprise, it was hollowed out and contained a silver key. He handed the key to Dimentio. "Today this is the key, and it's Door Red Seven. Be sure to leave before midnight, or the way out will be over in Wilx County. Quite a hike back."
"Thank you," said Dimentio. "And, if anyone asks-"
"Natch," agreed Bookworm. "I know the drill." He traced a line across his throat with his tail.
Dimentio gulped. Just what was in this archive? Even though he knew that the one dispensing justice would likely be himself, and he had little to fear from himself, it still was a heavy situation.
Bookworm pat Dimentio on the back and then gave him a nudge out the door, and then closed it behind him. Dimentio looked down in his hands at the key. "And what good does this do me?" he groused. "Red Seven, what does that even-" He stopped as soon as he looked up and saw where he was.
He was standing in a hallway filled with doors. This hallway stretched on, but it also split off in the left and right. A quick peek down these hallways showed that they split off at their left and right, and on who knows how long. The walls were filled with doors. Green doors, pink doors, blue doors, purple doors, brown doors, all colors of doors, each one with a different number on the front. Down the left hall, to the right, was a door that was both red and bore the number "seven." He put his key in the lock, turned it, heard a click, and opened it. Inside was a stairway down..
Dimentio paused, and then closed the door. He turned to the door next to red seven, a blue one with the number 9. He put the key in the lock, turned the key, and unlocked this one. Behind it was a brick wall. Dimentio shook his head and went back to red seven.
The stairs went down impossibly far, farther than he felt comfortable with, but he kept going until he reached the ground. He lit a torch on the wall and looked at this underground chamber. The walls were made of stone, arching upwards. The ceiling was not very high at all. Contrasted to the ceiling of the library, it was positively claustrophobic.
There were eight filing cabinets, each one labeled: YEAR1, YEAR2, YEAR3, and so on. The room was cavernously empty, even with the comparatively low ceiling.
Dimentio pulled open the most recent one, YEAR8, and looked inside. There were folders in it, labeled mundane things like "population by region," "almanac," "record of birth," "record of death," "instances of imperfection," "crop statistics," and so on and so on. There were population distribution maps, weather records, birth certificates, death certificates, all very boring really.
Wait. Go back.
Dimentio thumbed through the folders until he found one that suddenly seemed wrong. "Instances of Imperfection." Slowly, he opened it.
First there was a weather map, plotting rain currents. This was followed by a report about drought conditions in the area of the map untouched by the rain current. After that was an accounting report over four quarters, showing the decrease of crops. Dimentio tilted his head and squinted, as if this was something he couldn't quite see. At the end was a description of a detailed magic spell Dimentio knew that could change the pattern of weather, provided you had enough power and help. Apparently he had, because this was labeled "positively resolved."
The next packet under "instances of imperfection" was a status sheet cross-referenced to a "record of death" under the name Milo Underbridge. Dimentio opened the "record of death" folder and found Underbridge, Milo.
Name: Underbridge, Milo
Date of Birth: original
[here were generic stats about his sex, height, weight, physical attributes, and so on]
Date of Death: Month 7, Day 24, Year 8
Cause of Death: Dissent
That was it.
Dimentio put the folders away and opened YEAR1. He checked all the folders, but couldn't find one for "record of birth." Instead, there was one whole drawer for "originals." Inside it was the same as the record of death for Milo, only without the date and cause of death, and nothing for date of birth.
Dimentio closed the drawer and left.
Dimentio flopped down face-first on his bed, mashing his face into his pillow. He tried so hard to empty his mind, to not understand what he had just seen.
Have I been gone for eight years?
It was impossible. He remembered eight years ago, and while the memory still stung as if it were fresh, the details had softened. He no longer remembered vividly the pain of defeat at the hands of the heroes, only the dullest ache of it. But hanging around the castle, watching the minions goofing around and casually participating? That was fresh. The details were intense, they were present, they were, well, there. He could remember exactly what he said to O'Chunks before demonstrating his dimensional prowess, could smell the thick warrior musk and the wisp of Mimi's perfume alongside it. But what he said to the heroes before he attempted to vanquish them? Not even close. Something about a greeting card? Maybe?
He felt the other side of the bed depress. Dimentio peered out and saw someone sitting down on the side opposite him. The jester woman. His queen.
Dimentio looked up.
"Well?" she asked quietly. "Didn't you say directly after?"
Dimentio sighed and rolled over onto his back. "I suppose I did."
"Do you no longer like this shape?" she asked. She leaned in close, putting her face near his neck, and kissed him softly. It send a chill through him. "You know I can change it anytime for you."
"No," said Dimentio. "That isn't it. You should just... be yourself."
"Be myself?"
"Or whoever you want to be. I don't know."
"Whatever pleases you, my darling."
Next to Dimentio was a puff of purple smoke. "Well?"
Dimentio glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, then did a double-take. He sat up and stared, blinking rapidly and shaking his head to see if he was mistaken.
Mimi was sitting on the bed next to him.
