By this time, someone had found a Super Megaphone and had announced to the entire world that "OMFG ZAKUM JUST WALKED THROUGH EL NATH" Most travelers thought it was bunk, and whispered that the announcer just wanted attention, but the bored ones hanging around Orbis used their teleport rock scrolls.
Greeting them at the base of Orbis Tower was fiery death. The survivors called their friends or used Super Megaphones of their own, and soon nearly everyone was either taking the airship to Orbis or teleporting down the tower to get burned alive/watch in stupefaction as the now-burning and mobile Zakum spent some time setting fire to his audience.
"Are the GMs doing this?" one random traveler remarked to another.
"No, those are the GMs over there, and they're just as stumped as we are."
GMs, of course, are the law enforcers of the world of Maple, but this evidently was not one of their pranks or a planned event. This made summoning the Crimson Balrog in the Free Market look like plain old newbie-killing at Lith Harbour. Travelers who had spent years training in the third tier of job advancement were dropping like green snails as Zakum swept his axe through their ranks.
"This is stupid. I'm logging off," declared a hermit – one of the master assassins of Maple – just before Zakum's axe reached him.
And where was the cleric responsible for all this? He was still following the Harlequin, who continued silent slithering along the charred remains of the snowfield.
"So much ice, gone to waste," the mask muttered, "I put it there to look pretty, not to get burnt."
"You made the snow fall in El Nath?"
"Well, yeah. Somebody had to make all this. What, you think evolution made penguins wear jewelry and ride yeti like cowboys?"
"Point taken. But this begs the question… why create, and then disappear?"
"I'm tired."
Zakum paused his rampage long enough to look over his shoulder.
"YOU!"
The Harlequin waved with one slender white gloved hand.
"Hi."
Zakum plunged his axe into the side of the tower, shaking snow off its entire height, and began to climb. The white mask tilted to one side.
"That's odd."
The sea of travelers parted for the man in the white mask and his follower.
"Last time he charged me with that big axe, screaming his head off."
"He's afraid of you?"
"I am his nightmares."
"Where did you come from, anyway?" the cleric asked as they went up the tower that constantly shook from Zakum's rock-climbing.
"Spontaneous combustion."
"Really?"
"No. I have a mother."
"Where is she?"
"Know how Zakum has his tree of chains?"
"Yeah?"
"My mother inspired that."
"Okay, I don't want to know anymore."
The cleric became mesmerized by the total silence with which the Harlequin moved. His rippling robes made no sound; neither did his footsteps. Only his voice, which resounded more in the head than through the air, was heard. Not just stealth, but grace was in his motions. He slithered up ropes as if they were pulling him upward. His shining white dress shoes tied with black lace barely touched the platforms at all, and though his movements belied a sylphlike swiftness, he slowly floated through the air as a bird might, allowing the cleric to keep pace.
The fallen-angel statue at the top had its demonic wing broken off, the burning rubble signaling Zakum's arrival in Orbis.
"Will he also set the skies afire?" the cleric wondered.
"No, I happen to like clouds," the Harlequin reassured, and flew into town. Understanding the need for urgency, the cleric equipped his Bone Helm, Icarus Cape, Red Whip and snowshoes modified for speed to keep up. Besides, against that demon, his battle equipment was no better than straw. Zooming after the Harlequin, the cleric persisted his questioning.
"You are going to seal him again?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe? He's already burned down half of Orbis!"
Indeed, Zakum had reduced the city proper to smoldering rubble, and his leaping flames could be seen in Orbis Park.
"This was such a beautiful place. And now it's gone."
The soaring arches of levitating stone had crumbled. The fair banners flapping in the wind were memories. The plant-life that had overgrown the older buildings was still burning, the old roots slowly dying. The bright sky was now turgid red.
"Don't worry."
"Don't worry? This place was built by the ancients! Its glory can never be restored!"
"Who do you think taught the ancients to build? Just relax."
"Sure," the cleric grumbled, "Relax. When I'm to blame?"
The Harlequin waved off the bitterness with one hand.
"It's okay. I do your time, I take the fall."
"Why? I'm the one who released him!" the cleric insisted. The Harlequin sighed.
"Yes, but I am guilty for us all. That's why I'm here."
"If you made everything, how does that make you guilty?"
"It doesn't, but I am, so that you don't have to be."
"I don't understand."
"Nobody does, least of all him."
They confronted Zakum who, at the edge of cloud city with nowhere to go, adopted a battle stance, his one eye furious behind his axe.
"I will not be cribbed and confined again!"
"Sure you will. It's what gives you purpose in life," the Harlequin replied.
"I am more powerful now than ever before, thanks to the foolish mortals of this world!"
"I'm still the same," the Harlequin shrugged, and walked forward while the cleric retreated. Zakum drew back, lifted his axe and swung with all his might. So quick was the strike that the cleric did not see the result, but he did feel the ground shatter, and screamed as he fell. They had been standing on the extremity of the city, so the ground was thinner than at the centre, and had broken off under the sheer force of Zakum's blow. For a few seconds the cleric saw nothing but white and felt the cold vapour of the clouds, and then the clouds were above him. The sea, however, was now several thousand feet below. So high up were they, he could see Victoria Island in the distance. Zakum was a comet below, and the Harlequin was either destroyed or lost to sight.