A/N: This is fairy tale/fantasy parody that includes characters from many of Jhonen Vasquez's works.. most notably Invader Zim. (WHEEE-HOOO!) All such characters belong to him. All others are usually fancharacters or fantasy parodies of my friends (SIs) who all belong to their respective owners. I will appear in here too, but not until later. Anyway, please enjoy this work of insane doom. Much thankies to all my friends for agreeing to appear in this story! ^.^

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Imperfections

Why do you fools always come asking me about these things? the old witch snarled past wrinkled lips. Empty eyes peered out from behind dusty lenses, and one claw-like, gnarled hand tightened around the edge of the wooden counter.

Aubri lifted his gaze to the worn sign hung above her head: Bitters Doom Telling. You might want to consider moving your residence out of a booth and to somewhere away from all of us he remarked cynically.

Someone needs to inform them how doomed they are, she snapped in reply, eyes narrowing. She pointed a crooked finger at him, and a small black insect crawled from her sleeve and across her hand, pausing on her fingertip to wave its antennae curiously at the robed young man who stood before it. What nightmarish future do you seek today, wizard? Ms. Bitters hissed.

I'm not a wizard, Aubri said coolly. And I think you know what I want.

Yes, yes, everyone does Ms. Bitters scowled fiercely, then swooped under her counter and returned with a cracked crystal ball, which she set down with a thump, leaning forward to stare hard into Aubri's eyes. He gazed back coolly, not even flinching. After a moment, Ms. Bitters drew back, and bent over the crystal ball.

. I see doom, she said gruffly. Doom for you, and your friends, and this entire world. Her voice took on a slightly more mystical tone as she continued. For we fools who have made what is His imperfect there will be nothing but DOOM rained down upon our pathetic, doomed heads. There is no way to assuage the DOOM there never is.

Aubri said sharply. Are you referring to a god?

she growled. Something worse. Like so many stinking zombies his nightmarish wrath will descend. Green and orange shields with he of the Bulbous Head Ms. Bitters paused abruptly, blinking into the crystal ball. Whatever. We're all doomed. Doomed doomed doomed

Aubri stepped quickly away from the booth, leaving the old witch to contemplate the so-called doom of the world. He couldn't help the sense that there was more to this doomish prophecy of Ms. Bitters, but there was no way he knew what it meant. Legends told of a sword but who was he of the Bulbous Head'? Aubri left the crossroads, stealing away into the woods to find a spot to meditate.

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The sun beat down on Dib's black hair, causing sweat to run into his eyes. He peered through his thickly fogging glasses at the hunched over figure of his father, toiling away to hoe the weeds from the crops. Endless fields spread out from Dib's view, covering hills far off into the distance. Tiny figures were visible among the stark, desolate rows, working endlessly. Dib paused for a moment, dropping to his knees in the soil and tugging at the course woven shirt he wore that was itching terribly around his neck.

he called weakly, and his father looked up slowly, long, oddly spiked hair limp from sweat and the heat. Dib repeated. Isn't she coming back with the water jug yet?

Your sister is busy taking it around to the other workers, son, his father said matter-of-factly. Wait your turn. And remember, work hard! He turned back to his hoeing, and Dib reluctantly pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the aching pain in his back as he continued to hack at weeds with the hoe.

Several more minutes passed, and Dib pushed his scythe of hair out of his eyes for the twelfth time, looking into the distance. He thought he saw a small figure far off on one of the other hills, purple hair glinting in the sun as she dropped the heavy water jug on a worker's foot. The worker's yell carried, echoing back and forth through the hills. Dib's father didn't seem to notice but continued steadily hoeing.

Dib needed a break. His vision was swimming in front of his eyes from the heat, and the hoe was beginning to blister his worn-out hands. With another glance at his father's hunched back, Dib stole quickly across the fields to the only spot of shade in the vicinity a small tree on the other side of the house. He slumped down there, closing his eyes immediately.

A few more minutes passed, before he thought he heard his father calling his name. With a groan, he sat up, and struggled to his feet, heading reluctantly back out. He wasn't more than two paces away from the corner of the house when he stumbled over something and fell face-first into the packed ground.

Almost out of instinct, he rolled away from the point of impact, sitting up to stare at what had tripped him. It was a pair of shoes. They were dirty as befitted their location, but they were white, made of some strange material, and had long thin strings woven through their tops. The strings extended past the shoes and lay dusty and coiled next to them.

Dib reached over carefully towards them, but before his fingers could brush the shoes, a light suddenly swelled up from them, and they slowly lifted from the ground of their own accord, bathed in a flickering white fire. Dib stumbled backwards, still in a sitting position, his eyes wide. A sign?

a voice murmured, and it seemed to be emanating from the shoes as they slowly moved to hover before him, those strange strings now slowly flapping up and down at their sides.

he answered breathlessly, his gaze never leaving the remarkably odd, glowing footwear.

the voice repeated. You have been chosen.

Huh? Chosen? What's that mean?? Who are you?

We are messengers, sent to inform you of your destiny. You've been chosen, Dib, by prophecy and right of your large head. You've heard of the dark ravages that have been plaguing the land within the last few months, have you not?

Of course I have! My dad goes to town meetings! What does that have to do with me?

You can stop them, Dib. There is a force more powerful than you can possibly comprehend behind the darkness that is plaguing Fantasyland. Travel to the city of Mitial and there find the inn called The Rubber Piggy'. A mentor will be waiting there for you, and he will guide you on your quest to stop the darkness. We can tell you no more. Good luck on your journey. With those words, the fiery glow faded from the shoes and they dropped back to the ground, seeming just as dead and useless as they had when they'd tripped him up.

Mitial? I think I know where that is yes I will go on this quest and save all of Fantasyland from certain destruction at the hands of this dark force! Dib climbed to his feet and picked up the shoes. Another glance towards the field showed him that his father was still working.

He'll never even notice I'm gone! Dib said suddenly, and clutching the shoes, he raced into the house to pack his few belongings.

Where are you going at this hour? His father's voice broke through Dib's thoughts as the boy was fastening his pack on. Don't tell me you're chasing after more of those strange lizard races, or that fog that hovers over here in the morning. When are you going to listen to what I've told you about working on real farming?

Dib turned around to face his father. This is important! These weird shoes showed up this afternoon, and told me I'd been chosen to save the world!! I have to go! The fate of Fantasyland DEPENDS on it!!

Of course, son, his father said amiably. Just be home in time for the chores, and remember what I've said about staying sane! With that, he headed off back to the fields. Dib watched him go for a moment, then turned to see his sister behind him, lugging the water jug towards the next row of workers.

Dib cried. I'm off to save the world! Make sure you take care of things while I'm gone, all right? And I will be home someday, after I've completed my noble quest and stopped the forces of darkness from destroying Fantasyland!

Gaz raised an eyebrow, letting the cumbersome water jug fall to the ground next to her. You're leaving? There was an edge of hope to her voice.

Not forever, Gaz! Well unless something happens like a monster eats me but I know about monsters! I can avoid them!

Why don't you leave forever?

Forever? Um well Gaz, this is my home! I'll travel to the Northern Barrier and the Southern Seas and beyond, but I'll always return home!

Really? You don't suppose you could get eaten by a dragon or something instead?

Gaz, please! Dragons never eat people.

Dib fell silent as his sister regarded him, her gaze steely. Finally she shrugged. Why not? she said. I'm just as tired of this farm as you are. Don't think I'm going anywhere close to the same direction you're going, though. With that, she headed off into the house, leaving the heavy jug trickling a stream of water onto the dry ground. Dib stared at it for a moment, then adjusted his pack and trudged on down the road towards Mitial. He had a mission to undertake, and nothing was going to stop him from doing the best he could.

Mitial. It was large enough, being an important trade center in the southern part of the kingdom, and was criss-crossed with cobbled streets, dirt roads, booths and stalls, markets, inns, and fine houses for those that lived there. Dib reached the city after only his second day of traveling, and the noise and sheer number of the people there overwhelmed him. The clip-clop of horse hooves, the groan of cart and wagon wheels, the chatter and shouting of people haggling, all of it was quite overwhelming for a simple farm boy who had only read about the world.

Excuse me! Dib called, hailing the nearest person that looked like he wasn't in a tremendous hurry. Do you know where I can find an inn called The Rubber Piggy? Before his victim could answer, Dib was nearly bowled over by a farmer with a cart in the middle of the street, and he dived towards a nearby alleyway to avoid being trampled.

Excuse me— he started again, only to find that the person he'd hailed had disappeared. Dib cautiously stepped out of the alleyway, which was dark, smelly, and full of horse manure that had been pitched there from the streets. A feeling of dread began to creep through the boy, as he realized he had no idea where he was, and none of these people looked at all friendly.

Come on, GIR! A loud shout rang out among the throngs, and Dib peered over curiously. Not everyone here was human, of course, but this individual was especially strange. Dressed flamboyantly in minstrel robes of dark purple and red, and carrying a stringed musical instrument that Dib recognized as a fiddle, was a small green being in an extravagant feathered hat. He was marching in a rather odd way, not like the guards at cities often did, but by kicking his feet high into the air and lifting his head up. Trotting at his side was an odd, greenish dog-like animal.

the dog creature shrieked as it tagged after what Dib assumed to be its master.

Yes, GIR! To the Rubber Piggy! the green minstrel called out imperiously. Several of the townsfolk stopped to stare at this person, but moved on with their own business. The Rubber Piggy? With a glance to either side, Dib stole after the pair, keeping a low profile and holding on tightly to the pack with his belongings. Fortunately, the minstrel was not hard to keep track of because of his overly elaborate and flashy garb.

The inn itself that was Dib's goal was a relatively simple one, but it looked clean and, when Dib stepped in the door after the minstrel, appeared well served. Some of the stew that occupants were eating looked positively delicious, at least after two days of way bread on Dib's part. The floors and walls were rough-hewn of a dark hardwood, and a fire burned steadily in a hearth at the other end of the room. Barmaids moved among the tables with drinks and meals.

Marching to the front of the room and leaping up on a table was the minstrel Dib had followed, and he calmly turned to face the room, solid crimson eyes regarding everything as he lifted his fiddle and laid the bow across the strings.

ZIM is HEEERE!! the minstrel shouted, gaining the attention of everyone in the inn, including the owner, a sweet-faced, plump woman with medium-short black hair in curls.

Not again the owner groaned, and disappeared into the kitchen area.

PAY ATTENTION! The minstrel was hollering now, as he swept off his feathered hat, revealing two long, thin black antennae flicking back from his otherwise bald head. The green dog he'd come in with was occupying itself chewing happily on the leg of the table that Zim stood on.

The AMAZING fid-ill master ZIM is here to play for you AAAALLLL!! A bold expression and an imperious stance dared the occupants to make a protest. None did.

Dib forced his gaze away from the extravagant fellow, peering instead at the other occupants of the inn. Most of them sat at tables, some of them casting nervous glances at Zim, some groaning audibly. The patrons, at least, seemed used to this

There was one girl, however, who was watching with open interest. Dib stared at her. She was wearing the oddest clothes he'd ever seen a short, simplistic tunic of a grayish color, and oddly printed blue pants. Most intriguing was the device she held in her hands rectangular and silver, a touch on its side by the girl's fingers produced a contraption like a rod that extended from the box, and she lifted the device up to her face, tapping some more buttons.

she said with a delighted smile on her face as she gazed at the minstrel. How cute!

Dib gasped in amazement as a bright flash of light went off in the minstrel's face.

STOP THAT!! Zim screamed at the girl, giving her a hefty glare before turning his attention to his fiddle, lifting the bow to the strings and playing out a scale of notes, before launching into full melodic execution.

The minstrel did actually play very well, well enough that he held the attention of everyone in the vicinity except one young man, who kept glancing around the room as if searching for something. Dib gulped nervously as the man's gaze landed on him and seemed to lock. Maybe this was his mentor but wasn't this guy a bit young for that? Dib tried to block out the sensual fiddle music that washed through the room, and moved towards a corner to find a table, climbing up on a chair to try and see better.

Yes, that man was definitely watching him. Dib returned his gaze nervously, but the young man only smiled at him before turning back to his glass of water. The man was dressed in a simple robe, long and brown with a simple embroidered design down the front and along the cuffs. His dark brown hair was long, falling past his shoulders, and his eyes were a soft grey.

A loud crash grabbed Dib's attention, as everyone in the room looked sharply over to the table where the minstrel had been playing.

Zim's ear-splitting scream of dismay jarred the hearing and caused many an eye twitch of annoyance among the room's occupants. The table the minstrel had been standing on had collapsed on one of its legs, and the green dog-like creature was now staring at the splintered leg, sawdust innocently framing its mouth and covering its little red tongue.

CAN I NOT BRING YOU ANYWHERE WITHOUT YOU DOING SOMETHING COMPLETELY BRAINLESS!? YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN FED TODAY!!! YOU DO NOT NEED TO EAT TABLES!! The minstrel was livid by now, fiddle clutched protectively to his chest as he screamed at the dog, which seemed completely oblivious. In fact, it giggled quietly and smiled charmingly at the inn patrons as they watched Zim's display with growing irritation.

You have interrupted my FID-ILL PLAYING, GIR!! Zim ranted, holding the aforementioned instrument almost tenderly as he looked down at it. If you had caused the fid-ill to be HURT I would I would if you were NOT SO ADVANCED, GIR, I WOULD—

Shut up! one large man snapped suddenly, throwing his just emptied mead mug violently towards the minstrel. The mug clouted Zim in the side of the head, and the green being's antennae shot straight up into the air.

YOU DARE TO HIT THE MIGHTY HEAD OF ZIM WITH THIS... Zim paused to look down at the mug that trickled mead onto the sawdust-coated floorboards. WALNUT!!

giggled the dog on the floor, and it smiled, scooping up an armful of the sawdust and throwing it into the air.

Quit playing around, GIR! Zim said, as he crawled under the downed table. And protect your master!! This last comment was followed by a barrage of various loose items against the table, consisting of mugs, bowls, knives, even a chair or two.

Dib stared. The brash minstrel was hiding under the table in earnest now as just about everyone in the tavern seemed to leap into the action, swinging at each other. Dib's eyes got even wider when he saw a couple of knives being pulled. GIR, despite its instructions to protect its master, remained sitting where it was, playing with the sawdust. The girl with the odd device had climbed up onto a table near the wall and was cheering various things such as, WHOO! GO MISTER HAIRY BACK! BITE HIS RIBS! BITE HIS RIBS! Oh that is one ­mis-used spork

Dib stared, cowering against his chair, as the fight raged on. The young man he'd noticed before finished his glass of water, set it down on the table, and stood up, only a moment before the table was toppled in the ensuing chaos and a couple of its legs broken off for use as clubs. The young man headed calmly towards Dib, pausing to step over an overturned chair.

This isn't a good place to be right now, the young man murmured as he reached the corner, and Dib looked up, startled.

Who are you? he demanded.

Right now, the young man started, I'm just wondering what you're doing here— He ducked suddenly, as a flying plate barely missed hitting him and smashed into the wall instead, shattering into powder that showered into his hair and over his robe. He stood back up slowly with a wry smile. What a crowd can do sometimes, eh?

The girl in the odd clothing was doing things with the strange object in her hands again, and the small light on it flashed repeatedly throughout the room. The girl randomly called to everyone in the vicinity, leaping off the table as she managed to dodge the minstrel's little green dog who had trotted out into the center of the brawl and had begun a dance number. Oh wow, these are some great pictures! Especially with that little dancing dog! The girl called, still messing with the box that was emitting flashes of light like mad. Hey, green person! Come out of there! I'm sure you could take down all these guys that are much stronger and taller than you! Hey!

well.. Dib started in answer to the young man's question. I was told to come here by— Dib shrank down in the chair as a mead mug crashed into the wall above his head, bounced down off the table, and came to a rest under another chair. By a wow, this sounds really stupid a pair of shoes Dib hurried to keep talking as he saw the young man lift an eyebrow. They told me I would meet a mentor he— Dib was interrupted by the sudden need to dodge some flying silverware, but he kept his gaze on the young man's face.

Well whoever you're waiting for the young man said with maddening calm, I don't think he'd be in this brawl right now...

Yeah I'd think not Dib said nervously, his knuckles whitened as he clung to the back of the chair.

I'm heading out, the young man said. I think you should too. You can follow if you like.

Hey wait a minute, who are you?? Dib called, but was distracted by a chair sailing past his line of sight.

Don't you think they—hey, whoa! Watch where you're throwing those, pal! The girl with the strange object exclaimed, seeming quite honestly surprised. She started edging her way towards the door, glancing around, seeming worried for her welfare for the first time since the fight began. I'd better make a run for it she mumbled, eyes wide.

Dib looked around frantically for the young man in the robe, and finally spotted him heading for the door in a straight line. Dib was ready to stay where he was, being wary by nature, but something caught his attention; the man didn't flinch at all as he moved it was as if the fighting hordes were unconsciously making a path for him. If there was a path out, Dib figured he'd better take advantage of it, and he leapt from the chair, scrambled under a table, and tagged closely at the young man's heels on his way out of the inn.

The minstrel under the table also seemed to notice this, and he watched the pair with an appraising eye before charging suddenly from his hiding place, snatching up the green dog as it did a pirouette in the air over a large fallen man, and tearing at top speed towards the door. He clutched his fiddle protectively against his chest, while dragging the dog by one ear. The girl with the strange box was also running for the door now.

The young man, again with maddening calmness, stepped out into the street and to the side from the door. Dib dove out after him, immediately flattening to the outside wall of the inn to try and catch his breath. A loud clatter of a thrown bowl from just inside the door was followed by the small green minstrel flying haphazardly face-first into the street, where he managed to curl into a protective roll around his instrument. The girl with the odd device followed immediately after, missing the bowl the minstrel had tripped over but tripping over the minstrel himself.

howled the minstrel, clutching the fiddle tighter as the girl sailed over him. He sat up immediately as soon as she was past, checking the instrument over for any damage. His robes were mussed and the hat that he'd thrown haphazardly back on his head was askew, but the fiddle was unharmed. The minstrel got to his feet with a sigh of relief, and haughtily brushed himself off.

Look Master! the little green dog screeched, picking up the girl's fallen object. A fish box!

Hey no! The girl yelped, snatching the box back from the dog. That's a camera! It's more precious than you could EVER imagine. She gazed at the camera in her hands for a moment in confusion. Fish box

whimpered the dog. I wanted ta have BRUNCH!

The girl stared at the dog for a long moment. You have such a cute dog, little minstrel, she said suddenly with a beaming smile. A cute talking dog..

Dib looked up at the young man who stood beside him. He had no idea who any of these people were he'd followed the minstrel here, and he was supposed to meet a mentor here surely none of these people were his mentor? This young man seemed the only likely candidate, but he hadn't said anything about the quest yet

Why does this sort of thing always happen? the man said thoughtfully as he gazed up at the sky.

Dib gave Zim, who was muttering evilly at the girl who had called him little', another wary glance before looking back at the young man. Do.. do they usually happen?

Ah, I tend to have to be in unusual places in my line of work—

the minstrel shouted suddenly, interrupting Dib's conversation as he jabbed a gloved finger at the girl with the camera. YOU were amazed by the fid-ill prowess of ZIM!! Were you not!? This last comment was followed by a steely glare, but the girl just blinked at him in confusion.

Fid-ill? Fiddle? Oh yeah! You were great, she said with a severely cheerful smile, and patted Zim's hat patronizingly.

The minstrel's glare increased as he backed away. Do not touch my hat of DOOM!

Sheesh, sorry the girl muttered. Hey maybe you can help me, I'm kind of lost

Dib tried to focus on the young man again. So.. um are you the one the shoes told me about? My mentor? Shoes aagh.. why did they have to be shoes?? That sounds so stupid

Well, Dib, I've heard stranger, the young man said, and looked down at the green dog who had attached itself to his leg.

I loves you, wizard-man, the dog cooed, its tongue sticking out cutely.

I'm not really a wizard, you know the young man said, gazing at the little dog.

Dib said suddenly, narrowing an eye suspiciously. How did you know my name?? And what IS that dog.. thing? It doesn't look like a dog..

What else? It's a talking dog that stands on its hind legs.

You know, how come you keep changing the subject on me?? You haven't answered one straight question I've asked you!! Dib demanded.

Hey come on I really don't belong here the girl with the camera was saying to the minstrel.

Well, OBVIOUSLY you do not belong, Zim said with a superior glare. You are filthy, dressed in HIDEOUS clothing, and carry idiotic light boxes around with you!!

This is not idiotic! the girl said defensively. It's a camera! I'll show you! She knelt down in front of the minstrel and snapped a picture right in his face. Say cheese!

Zim howled. STOP AT ONCE!!

Dib found his attention drawn once more by the camera. What does that thing do, exactly? he asked.

Aw, come on, strike a pose! the girl was saying as she snapped picture after picture of the little minstrel. Huh? What does it do? Oh! It um sees what you see and then freezes the moment in a copy you can see later. It's kind of like freezing the moment I guess She shrugged unknowingly and snapped another picture of the minstrel, who had been watching the camera with intrigue and was now posing before it.

Really? I've never seen anything like that before You can see the moment later you mean? Dib asked her, his gaze still fixed on the camera.

squealed the little green dog, still clinging to the minstrel's leg.

Oh yes, yes you can—

the robed young man said, pointing off in a random direction.

You can see the moment la—

The little green dog leapt from the man's leg and took off down the street, gaining the attention of the minstrel and shaking him out of his pose for a moment.

Zim howled. GET BACK HERE!!

BIRDIES, MASTER!! returned the screeching dog.

the young man said, turning to a rather dazed Dib. Did these shoes say anything else, Dib?

They said wait!! How do you know my name!? You still haven't told me how you know my name! Dib protested.

Hey that's cool mister wizard-guy!! the girl with the camera broke in. What's my name??

How the hell should I know? the young man said, looking at her with raised eyebrow.

Oh well.. gee.. sorry.. she said dejectedly.

If you don't know her name, how do you know mine?? Dib demanded, determined not to let the young man escape his questioning again.

The man merely shrugged. Because your name's important somehow.

A rather hurt look crossed the girl's face. Well that's it. I'm not speaking a word to you about the bubonic plague! she huffed, ignoring the small green dog that returned pirouetting around her with a pigeon stuffed in its mouth.

Huh? Important? What do you mean? Dib insisted suspiciously.

She's important in this too I'll warrant but I don't know how yet

Her? She doesn't even look like she belongs here I've never seen clothes like that Dib cast another wary glance at the girl.

It's just a t-shirt, she protested.

Oh, well the young man said thoughtfully. Maybe she's from those strange places out east. How do you eat with a pair of sticks I wonder

the girl began, only to be interrupted by the minstrel, who had stopped screaming at his dog long enough to take note of their conversation.

This human is a foreigner to our lands!! he crowed triumphantly, pointing vindictively to the girl. And therefore a threat!! GIR!! ERADICATE THIS THREAT!! He smiled triumphantly down at his dog, who gazed at him silently while munching on the pigeon.

Hey no don't.. uh um oh! Strike a pose, you amazing thing you! The girl crouched down quickly and resumed snapping pictures of the tiny minstrel.

GIR! If you will not—yes, yes I am amazing, am I not? The minstrel swept off his hat, stepping into an appropriately amazing' pose.

The young man sighed and turned back to Dib. About being important', Dib someone told me to look for you she didn't say how or where just that I'd meet you. And she didn't give me a name old bat. Always talking about the end of the world

the shoes said there was a force of darkness behind the ravages on Fantasyland, lately Dib said cautiously.

Force of darkness, eh? the young man said. That explains it then He wiggled his fingers in an imitation, muttering, Doom.. doom.. dooom He laughed slightly. If it weren't for what I'd heard of her

I hope I have more film the girl was saying nervously. Else all I'm going to have on this is one tiny green fiddler

ZIM is MIGHTY!! the minstrel insisted, puffing his chest out and setting his fiddle under his chin as he dropped into another pose.

Dib found himself staring at Zim once more. What.. is wrong with him? he said to the young man, nervously.

I don't know the man replied, also looking at the minstrel. He's an artist they tend to be eccentric.

Oh yeah my dad told me about them but then, he thinks anything besides real farming' is a waste of time

Glad you got out of that place then sounds stifling.

The minstrel huffed, ignored, and immediately launched into playing a slow, hypnotic melody on his fiddle.

Hey guys, the girl with the camera was saying. I hate to interrupt but where are she never finished her sentence, but turned to Zim, an interested expression on her face, as she listened to him play. The tiny minstrel seemed delighted with her reaction, and an evil grin spread across his face as he concentrated more intensely on his playing.

The young man gave the minstrel an appraising look, then turned back to Dib. Although, there is an old legend about a sword ever held a sword, Dib?

Dib tore his gaze away from Zim to look back up at the man. there aren't very many of them around here

The man pulled a sword out of his belt from underneath the robe. This one's pretty old

Listen to the fid-ill the minstrel was cackling, and Dib felt his gaze traveling back to the green being.

But it's not what we're looking for. The young man twirled the sword a couple of times, then slashed decisively in Zim's direction. Dib couldn't see what had happened, but it was as if the slow, smoky-sweet lure of the music had been abruptly cut. This did not escape the minstrel's notice, and the bow bounced off the fiddle-strings as he jerked in rage.

HOW DID YOU DO THAT!? he bellowed as well as a small being could. Foolish WIZARD!! You dare to foul with the spell of ZIIIIIM!?

wow what was that the girl was mumbling, shaking her head.

The sword I'm thinking of is odd in a way the young man continued, attempting to ignore the loud little minstrel.

Dib inquired, forcing himself to ignore the being as well.

Oh yes, you think you are so AMAZING with your wizardly powers!! But the foreign human stink-beast still belongs to ME!!! The minstrel continued his rant, oblivious to the fact that he was being ignored, before turning superiorily to the girl. Yes, I am amazing, am I not?

What were you doing to me? the girl said in confusion. stink-beast that's not very nice

the man continued, still ignoring the other two. It's supposed to bring forth light in the darkness or somesuch

Really? Is that what the.. uh.. the bat told you?

No, this is an old poem

The light in the darkness, is that the darkness the.. er.. the shoes were talking about?

Could be, it would make sense I don't remember it all it's old as the hills around here though.

Nobody knows where it comes from really, do they? Dib paused, his sense suddenly assailed by the fiddle music, which had started up once more. dark force, I mean

you're doing that playing thing again the girl was mumbling, her glazed stare hauntingly reminiscent of Dib's own.

I could try to lead you where it's supposed to be— The man paused, looking down, as the little green dog attached itself to his leg once more. But this dog's stuck to my leg

Oh.. uh.. HEY! Dib managed to shake the fiddle-spell off for a moment, pointing to the minstrel. Can you call off your dog?

said the minstrel imperiously, and he stopped playing a moment to puff his chest out in what Dib suspected was an attempt at a tough pose although the girl with the camera thought otherwise.

she cooed, taking another picture before giving the little minstrel a hug. You just know I'm going to make THAT snapshot into a postcard! she smiled widely.

the minstrel yelped. Oh Irk!! Oh the FILTH!!! LET GO AT ONCE!! AUUGH!!! He struggled out of her grasp, shuddering.

she protested, letting him go. I wasn't hurting you! And I'm not filthy!

The minstrel composed himself, adjusting his hat and brushing off his robes. NEVER touch the might of ZIM, he sniffed. You are not worthy.

worthy? An offended expression crossed the girl's face.

Yes. ZIM is almighty. The minstrel lifted the bow to the strings of his fiddle again.

Um how about we not do that this time? the girl said hurriedly, grabbing the bow from him. I kind of like free will

The little green dog chose that moment to let go of the young man's leg and launch itself for the minstrel's head although Dib wasn't entirely sure that was accidental on the man's part. Especially after what he'd done with that sword

the minstrel was shouting, GIVE THAT BA—GIIIIR!! GET OFF MY HEAD!!! The green dog landing dislodged the elaborately feathered hat, and the minstrel growled, swiping the bow back as he turned to the girl, a smug expression on his face as he tried to ignore his wayward pet.

Illusion is the only true joy— the minstrel began to the girl, GET OFF, GIR!! You must give in to the sensual beauty of Ziiiiiiimmm's fid-ill! GIR!! STOP—OWWWWWW!! Dib winced at the piercing yell, and looked over to see the green dog yanking happily on the green being's antennae.

GIDDAP LIL PIGGY! the dog screeched.

The sword's resting place is—

GRAAAAAH!! RELEASE ME GIIIR!!

—somewhere off to the north, that way the young man was attempting to say.

Oh damn it all okay!! the girl broke in, and picked GIR up from the minstrel's head. Come on, little pup, leave your master's.. um.. hair.. alone.. She looked down at Zim, who was rubbing his antennae with an awful grimace on his face.

What does the sword do, exactly? Dib persisted.

I haven't the slightest, the young man answered. The prophets of the past really didn't have much compassion for people reading their poetry They're all so vague.

But this dark force that's taking over the land will the sword stop it?

I am the evil force of this land!! ZIM!! the minstrel said huffily, picking his hat back up.

You?? What?? Dib stared at the minstrel.

Yeeessss, large-headed HUUUMAN larva! ZIM is SUPREME! the minstrel said proudly.

Dib stared, then turned nervously back to the young man who he was already beginning to think of as his quest mentor. Hopefully it was a correct assumption to make Is he just.. um insane-talking? Dib asked.

If he's not, this is going to be one short voyage

Dib and the young man both gazed curiously at the little minstrel, who stared back at them uncomfortably. The little minstrel glared at JC, who was occupied with cuddling the minstrel's dog. He folded his arms huffily, then suddenly snatched up his instrument again.

You would all like the illustrious FID-ILL now? he said, resuming his confident pose as he immediately began to play, ignoring the sudden confidently diabolical smile the young man was giving him.

I'M A FERRET! shrieked the little dog from the girl's arms.

I like music she was saying as she stared at the minstrel with round eyes. Dib found himself staring too, but he shook his head violently, trying to shake off the effects.

What is with that thing he said. That guy is dangerous!! Hey! He pointed at JC. You not belong here but stay away from that minstrel! Do you know what he's doing to your mind!?

But Dib she murmured, still staring. He plays so well

YOU know my name too? Dib yelped, staring wide-eyed at the girl. Oh.. oh wait you said it.. he mumbled to the young man.

Aubri narrowed his eyes. It was a sure spell the little minstrel was weaving with that instrument of his, one that flowed easily and deceptively through the mind. The strange girl was quite solidly under his spell, and Dib was beginning to falter, too, although he was trying harder to resist it. If there was one thing that could be said about the large-headed boy it was that he had a good sense of what things were, and what to avoid.

Aubri shifted his gaze to the minstrel, whose fingers leapt easily over the fingerboard as the bow darted on the strings, an evil grin on his face as he gazed intensely at the girl. Aubri's eyes locked on Zim's face, a wide, almost maniacal smile spreading across his face.

The effect was almost immediate. The minstrel faltered, glanced warily, edged away from Aubri, but tried to keep up playing and working his spell on the girl.

Yeeessss.. Zim's playing is AMAZING!! It is your maaaaster Zim was nearly purring now, though the effects were being shaken more and more by the waves of malice coming from Aubri's smile and death-glare.

the girl yelped, cut free for a moment. Hey would you stop trying to control my mind with your hypnotic fiddle!

The minstrel scowled, concentrating hard on keeping his music affecting the girl, although Aubri was making sure it was difficult for him at best. You adore the might of the fid-ill the minstrel half-growled.

Dib tugged on the sleeve of Aubri's robe. Can we leave somehere else this guy is really freaky.. and look what he's DOING to her!

Why are you doing this to ME!? the girl was grumbling, trying to cover her ears but not quite able to take her eyes off of the minstrel.

Because you are eh.. special.. yeeeesssss.. you humans like to be special, do you not? Zim cackled, and Aubri tried to ignore Dib's implorations to leave, shocking the minstrel with a harder wave as he narrowed his eyes. He could feel Zim struggling against the force, a terrible grimace on his face.

the minstrel howled, dropping his bow and turning on Aubri in fury. DO NOT INTERFERE WITH ZIM'S MIGHT!!

Special is good the girl murmured, then suddenly her eyes went wide and she darted to hide behind Aubri. Ah!! Zim' is trying to control me!! she yelped. Zim himself kept glaring all the while as he edged away, picking up his bow, his eyes never leaving Aubri's face. Aubri kept the gaze right back on him, and the minstrel shifted nervously, then tucked his fiddle under one arm.

How does.. um.. that fiddle-trick work? Dib was asking suspiciously, gazing at the instrument.

Music is a strong magic of its own, Aubri said thoughtfully, letting the malice field lessen slightly.

None of YOUR business, DIB-child of the gigantic HEAD!! snapped the minstrel.

My head's not big! Dib protested.

Zim laughed evilly. he cackled. Come! We have much to do! He turned to go, then paused, looking back.

the girl said, looking around. where did he go..? There was a pause as everyone glanced around for the location of the minstrel's green dog.

The little creature was perched on top of the girl's head. She didn't notice this, however, and continued looking around. He's gone! she said, a touch of worry in her voice. The minstrel sighed in exasperation.

He is right there!! Zim gave the girl a glare as he pointed to GIR, who remained silent, waving its small black arms and smiling. The minstrel growled. The little dog still didn't move.

Zim lifted his head decisively, placing his fiddle under his chin again. The stink-human shall accompany us as the slave of the mighty ZIM! Come, filthy one The fiddle music started up again, and Aubri heard himself sighing in exasperation as the girl's face once again fell into a glazed stare.

Haven't the time for this now he murmured. Come on, Dib he paused to look at the girl.. and, what is your name, anyway?

the girl mumbled, following after Zim, who had begun to march away, still playing the fiddle. Can't talk right now, Dib fiddle is playing. Dib shot her a confused glance, then looked up at Aubri, who rolled his eyes, then started singing along with the minstrel's playing. Perhaps there wasn't time to deal with the haughty little minstrel, but Aubri didn't feel right about leaving the hapless JC in his spell. And so he followed, singing, embellishing the bowstrokes with a bit of musical hypnosis of his own, but aiming it at Zim instead of JC. Dib followed uncertainly, keeping a close eye on the people around them.

Aubri concentrated on the minstrel, giving him a nudge to the right, forward, down this street, along that building and Zim followed every nudge, so wrapped up in his own playing and spell over JC that he was completely unaware of being manipulated. Aubri could tell the strength of the minstrel's own music being as good at it as he was, he must've had a lot of practice. Even this nutty Irken might serve a use in the quest for the sword music was a powerful tool. As evidenced by JC, who was trailing along behind the minstrel, aware of neither her surroundings nor the little dog dancing on her head.

The town around the group was looking different this was the North end of Mitial, where most of the trading centers were oriented, including the largest marketplace in the near kingdom. Aubri paused a moment to glance around, deftly avoiding a string of hand and horse-drawn carts, pushing Dib to one side as well.

The minstrel stopped, his eyes opening as he paused in his fiddle-playing, and he look around, seeming unnerved. Where am I? he said, before his gaze found Aubri. YOU!! Wizard-human bearing vile tricks of manipulative eh DOOM!! WHAT DID YOU DO!? This is not the end of town ZIM was heading for, the minstrel huffed, glaring.

Aubri ignored him and turned instead to Dib. What do you have in that pack, there? We have a long way to go and it might do to ask around and find out where we should be heading

Dib unshouldered his makeshift pack, and opened it.

HEY! HEY! the minstrel was ranting. DO NOT IGNORE ZIM! JC was standing off to one side of him, looking dazed, while the little green dog danced merrily on her head.

Hey you know, she began. I think they're kind of busy why don't.. no! No, I don't want you to play that thing again. You know I'll bet they know where I am. She darted over to where Dib was digging through his pack.

Way bread, water skin my spyglass.. lump of charcoal.. laptop compu—oh no, that's a sketchbook.. Dib was muttering.

Hey wizard-guy! Hey Dib! JC said as she bounced up to the pair. I was saying before um.. I'm kind of lost, do you think you could help me find the way home?

The muuuusic is your HOME! the minstrel called. And do not ask those filthy HUUUUmans for directions! They are full of stinky water!

Well, we're here now we need some supplies we have a long way to go. And I'm not a wizard, Aubri said.

Dib gazed up at him, frustrated. Then what ARE you?

My name is Aubri, Aubri told him. And I am an experientialist.

The market was a busy place, even near the end of the day. Stalls selling food, goods, and supplies, street jugglers and other entertainers, one large open area where horses were being auctioned, areas where candles were being made, mead was being brewed, there was food of a number of sorts being prepared. Rich smells filled the air, and Dib found himself eyeing the pork ribs and fresh bread hungrily. Two days on waybread made him hungry for real food. He had a bit of a wish to see a jousting tournament, but this place was too far south of the castle for any of that sort of spectacle to be held here.

Stinky, filthy huuuuumans, the minstrel on Dib's right muttered, kicking his feet high in the air as he marched. Dib glared. Why did this obnoxious being have to remain with them? Aubri thought he'd be helpful', and it seemed the minstrel had a devious interest in ruling the world, saying that he would put up with the adoring attentions of his fans for a.. as he called it doomful cause'. JC trailed along behind next to Aubri, snapping pictures of everything.

What do we need to take? she was saying eagerly. Oh, candles, I like those oh look at that necklace! Hand-carved stones, right? Oh that's a neat cape

nothing fancy, Aubri said. Food, something to sleep on, horses, weapons, and hopefully a trade caravan of some sort to travel with mind, we need to figure out where our first stop is going to be. I know there's a weaponsmaster who lives east of here

The wafting sound of music broke through the crowds, gaining Dib's attention although the minstrel next to him didn't seem to hear it. Dib knew it was standard for wandering minstrels and performers to take up a spot in a marketplace and perform for donations and yes, this did seem to be what was going on. The minstrel, however, once he noticed, seemed uncontent to pass by quietly.

Zim turned his head, squinting one eye, and regarded the group of colorfully garbed gypsies that played at the corner of the street near the market. The first, and probably only thing that caught his eye was the fact that in the musical group two fiddles were being wielded.

AH HA! The gypsies looked up, startled, as a short green figure strode up to them, purple-colored robes swirling around his boots. Zim shouted, pointing at the lead fiddle player. You think you can best the MIGHT of ZIIIIM on the FID-ILL!? The gypsy stared at him, perplexed, pausing in his playing.

A moment of awkward silence followed. Zim glared at each of them in turn, before whipping out his own fiddle and placing it under his chin. Move aside, worms! he crowed, leaping onto a crate near the gypsy wagon. Another moment of silence followed, then Zim the minstrel put his bow to his fiddle-strings and began to play.

Even passersby stopped to listen to this. The melody started off slow, Zim's gloved fingers expertly dancing up and down the fingerboard and the bow flowing easily along the strings. It sped up after a moment, and as the gypsies listened, they began to join in, the two on their fiddles, one with a hand drum, one with a mandolin, one on a flute, and the youngest of them with a tambourine.

YEESSSS!! BOW, MONKIES!! BOW TO THE FID-ILL OF ZIIIIIM!! the minstrel howled in delight as he sawed the bow across the strings, twisting on the crate and flowing with the rhythm of his own music. Quite a crowd was beginning to gather, many of them watching the little green dog-creature swinging its hips in the middle of the street with a big goofy smile on its face.

The youngest gypsy, a young woman dressed in a long, colorful skirt and a loose-fitting blouse, took her tambourine out into a dance on the street, twisting and whirling to the music.

Zim called to her. Dance! DANCE! He whirled again, robes sweeping around his small figure dramatically, as he leaned into his fiddle playing, the melody broken only by his slightly discordous evil cackling. And she danced, long blond hair and skirts flowing as she leapt and twirled, her green eyes sparkling at her newfound hero.

Off across the street, behind the crowds, Dib looked up to whisper to Aubri. Is this really a good idea he said nervously. Dib was wary of this minstrel he didn't trust him at all. And he seemed much too fond of attention wouldn't that bring the Dark Lord's eye to them and their quest? They hadn't even started yet, it was true but Dib was afraid that a dark force as powerful as the one ravaging the land would have ways of knowing about anyone with the intention to stop it.

Let him have his fun, Aubri said. It'll keep him occupied while we get what we need JC.

she said, pausing from re-loading the film in her camera.

Aubri sighed. Do you think you'd be at all able to pick out the kind of clothes you'll need?

Oh, sure, she agreed, shutting the camera. Dib found him watching the device again with intrigue. If it really did make captures, it would be an incredibly useful tool.. but then how did you get them out?

Zim didn't even notice when his group filed away as quickly as they could to gather supplies. Of course, Zim could handle his OWN supplies, by HIMSELF. That was a given. And with the world bowing to his fiddle, there was little he couldn't accomplish. He twirled again on the crate, the bow flying across the strings of his fiddle. Quite a group had gathered now, clapping along with the melody and cheering. Zim turned slightly, and caught the eye of the youngest gypsy as she twirled in the street around his green dog. She beamed at him as she danced, shaking the tambourine in her hand. Filthy, was the first thought in his mind, but when the song ended and the playing paused, she came right up to him and bowed. Zim liked that.

Yeeesss, you adore the fid-ill as much as the other dirt-monkies do!! he said proudly, flashing her a wicked grin. She flushed, her pale skin gleaming most horribly in the afternoon sun. And that horrible hair that all these humans had. They were all so disgusting not impressive and gorgeous as even the smallest Irken. But no matter how filthy, Zim was always ready to accept another fawning slave to his amazingness.

Of course, he said to her smugly, not even listening to the words that were babbling out of her mouth. Of course you may accompany me. I may shine a little too brightly for your worm-monkey eyes, but I am sure you will become fulfilled by my GLORY!!! The minstrel leapt from the crate, tucking the fiddle under his arm gently. Come, GIR! he hollered, and headed off down the street. If he was to rule the world and become head of this dark face ravaging the land, he had to have practice with minions

The little green dog continued dancing obliviously. Zim paused to glare at his pet. GIR!! I command you to COME!! He growled as the dog ignored him still.

The blond gypsy girl ran over to scoop GIR up, and immediately fell back into step behind Zim. I've got him, minstrel, she said said shyly.

Zim said, then began looking around him through the crowds. Where had that blasted wizard gone? And that disgustingly large-headed human child? And the most filthy and squirmy of them all, that girl with the flashing device. She was the most horrible to be around but again Zim reminded himself that he had to keep his head among his filthy minions, remember that he was superior to them, and not let their appalling filth get to him too badly. As long as none of them touched him, he should be fine

Where did they go now? he growled, catching no sight of any of them. Well, it was no matter, they could find HIM later, right now, he had supplies to buy.

Zim said to the gypsy girl, striding off down the street. She followed him obediently, and the minstrel was delighted with the fact that his fiddle-spell had lasted long enough that she still followed him without protest.

When the group met up again Dib noticed a decided change in the little minstrel. To be quite honest, he was disappointed that the green being had reappeared he was going to do nothing but make things difficult and perhaps endanger all of Fantasyland in the process. The haughty lifting of his head, the arrogant set of his antennae, and that overly exaggerated march not to mention that evil instrument he carried cradled under one arm. At least, the flamboyant red and purple robes were gone, as well as the extravagantly feathered hat. These had been replaced by slightly more travel-worthy wear—a bright red, long-sleeved shirt covered by a dark red tunic, as well as black leather pants and boots. The outfit was completed by the minstrel's gloves—which Dib was sure he never took off—and a deep purple cloak fastened around Zim's shoulders. The being also seemed to have picked up a companion a young gypsy girl, staggering along behind the minstrel under the weight of packed supplies.

Dib looked up at Aubri, who was gazing with raised eyebrow as the minstrel marched up.

ZIM is HERE! the green being announced, raising a gloved claw into the air decisively. Aubri looked sharply at him, but Zim took no notice. With a sigh, the wizard—no, experiantialist, Dib reminded himself—moved over to relieve the gypsy of some of her burden.

Oh what a CUTE outfit! JC said, and snapped a picture of the minstrel. He posed obligingly, looking incredibly pleased with himself and the attention.

Thank you, the gypsy said gratefully as Aubri maneuvered half of her load onto his own shoulders. He had already had, it seemed, everything he neded for the journey before Dib had met him. In the end all they had really needed to do besides accentuate their own stocks was buy things for JC. She'd kept those odd pants she called blue jeans', but they'd gotten her a wool tunic to go over the t-shirt', and a cloak. She still wore the strange white shoes.. and in fact, that was one of the reasons why Dib was glad she was on the trip with them. Her shoes almost exactly resembled the ones that had talked to him and told him of his quest that, and he definitely wanted the camera' around.

Who's your friend, Zim? Aubri said patiently.

the minstrel turned around to give the two of them an appraising, superior glare. Dib found himself glaring at the minstrel's turned back.

Oh, THIS, Zim sniffed. This is young KidKourage. She is my human stink-slave. The gypsy looked a bit embarrassed to Dib, although he supposed he didn't blame her. Aubri rolled his eyes, then nodded a greeting to the gypsy.

It's good to have you with us he said, then lowered his voice before continuing. Don't worry about Zim. We'll keep him in line.

She nodded. Call me KidK, she said in a friendly manner, and held out a hand to Aubri. He shook her hand and smiled.

Come along!! the minstrel snapped impatiently. ZIM wishes to rule this world soon!

We can't leave yet, Dib said, annoyed. We still need horses.. a trade caravan to travel with stuff like that. He crossed his arms and looked at the minstrel superiorly in an obvious imitation of the green being's own poses and expressions.

Zim growled. As you WISH, large-headed HUUUUman infant but know that Zim will prevail no matter how long you attempt to put off the world's fate. Dib merely met his gaze defiantly.

It was nearly evening by the time they'd found a trade caravan that was passing through luckily, there had been a horse auction running in the marketplace, and the mysterious well-wishes of a patron had generously supplied them. Dib was wary of mysterious patrons especially ones that bore disturbing resemblances to the camera-wielding foreigner in the group, and wouldn't stop staring at him. However, the patron had been well-enough off although she insisted on seeing them off as the trade party left that night.

Dib shifted around uncomfortably atop the supply packs that were lashed to the back of a mule. They only had one mule due to their incredible versitality as well as their inability to breed, mules were rarer, and more in demand, than horses. A long-maned, fetlocked Iceland pony stood below the mule, and on its saddle was the minstrel, attempting to look as haughty as always although it was obvious he had no idea how to ride a horse. Towering above the pony on the other side was a dark bay, a long-maned, spirited gypsy horse, ridden expertly by KidK. JC was trying to keep her balance on one of those small, high-crested desert-bred horses, smoky whitish with dark grey speckles. Aubri had picked up a stocky old cart horse, a reddish chestnut, that hadn't yet reached the end of its rope.

Torches waved in the encroaching darkness, and shouts, the creak of wheels, and the whirl of ropes echoed throughout the air. The party waited silently, as the trade caravan made ready to leave the city and head east. The caravan's eventual destination was the walled city of Naltan, far off on the east coast of the continent.

Dib looked up quickly, stifling a groan. Their patron was coming.

She held up a lantern, and she was fairly young dressed in a stiff, starchy-looking outfit. Some noble's daughter, or younger sister, or maybe young wife. Dib hoped she wasn't a wife; the scary way she kept smiling at him her hair was long and dark and her face resembled almost exactly JC's except she didn't wear glasses.

I've come to wish you well on your quest! she said as she reached them, holding the lantern up. Dib blinked as some of the flickering rays of light caught him in the eye.

Zim does not need the wishes of any huuuuman, grumbled the minstrel.

Aubri said to him, and received a scowl in return.

Goodbye, Dib, the patron was saying with a beaming smile. She kept leaning close too close for Dib's comfort.

bye.. he managed, as the mule stirred restlessly under his shifting weight.

Move out! came the call from the front of the trade caravan, and wagons and animals started through the gate.

Um.. yeah.. I've gotta go! Dib said, quickly edging the mule away from the patron. She stared after him, looking sad. What was her name again? Er.. and thanks! Rach! he called nervously, and then took off after his party.

What has gotten into your foul, large head? snapped the minstrel as Dib rode up. You need only the FID-ILL! These disgusting stink-beasts that we ride are geh disgusting!! Why did we not walk??

We can't carry ourselves everything you insisted on buying, Aubri called back from ahead.

Zim huffed, and lifted his head, trying again to look like he knew what he was doing although his movements were totally out of sync with his mount's. Dib had grown up on a farm and he could tell and how was this minstrel supposed to be an asset to them anyway? His frustration with his mentor's crypticness grew. Was he going to carry out this entire quest blind? There was not much to do except hold on and wait and maybe ask Aubri some questions later on they had a long way to go.