In which the mad prince of Highland returns from the dead and tries to make sense of his resurrection.
Luca Blight is a bad man, and he does not deserve happiness.
We took liberties with the technicalities surrounding the Beast Rune. Don't read too deeply into it.
The contents of this chapter are loosely based on a post from December 28th, 2004.
Suddenly air entered his lungs, and he was breathing again.
The first breath was biting and frigid. His chest ached from the strain. He sat up with a start, then doubled over and coughed. His breath formed puffs of warm air in the cold. His palm came back clean. A familiar yet unexpected sensation flickered from the backside of his hand. Even through his gauntlets he immediately recognized the feeling.
The Beast Rune… But when? And how?
Surprise quickly turned to disappointment upon realizing the voice of his new rune was silent as it laid dormant. After all that time they were in communication, now it chose to stay quiet?
Where the hell am I? And why is it so cold?
He rose to his feet and swayed in place. The clinking of his armor as he stood upright was comforting and familiar. His hand drifted to his side—his sword sat undisturbed in its hilt. With a gratifying sound it slid out with no effort. His face was reflected in the shine of the blade, clean and unmarked.
His last memories filtered through in fragments and flashes. Flickering fireflies, a volley of arrows, the taste of blood filling his mouth...
A lone wooden fence stretched out across the field. A delicate layer of frost coated the surface, and in the distance he could hear the low murmur of cows. The sky overhead was dark with a thick cover of clouds hiding the stars and moon from sight. He drew another deep breath - the scent of a nearby pig farm prickled at his nose.
"Heh...heh heh...hahahaha..HEHAHAHAHOHOOOHOOHAHA, is this the best you've got!?" he threw his arms out at his sides. His laughter rang across the field. "A pig farm!? Am I supposed to assume this is my punishment?! I was right not to fear death if this is what was awaiting me!"
The irony was almost too perfect. His shoulders shook as he continued to laugh. For being dead, everything felt remarkably real, almost uncomfortably real. He was actually growing chilly.
"What's so funny, mister?"
He spun around and laid eyes on a young boy. A farmhand, judging by his clothes. The boy wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and studied him with open interest.
So there are even children here in hell? Heh.
"Mister…?" the boy craned his neck and wrinkled his brow. "You don't look like a Zexen knight…"
For a passing moment he contemplated striking the child down, but curiosity won out. "What are you talking about, boy? Do you know who I am?"
The child shrugged and breathed into his hands. "Lost, I guess?"
"Lost? What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
"A lotta people come through this way looking for Budehuc," the boy continued. "And since it's gonna snow soon, I reckon you're probably just wandering in the wrong direction."
Nonsense names and a nonsense pig farm…is this actually hell after all?
The urge to cut the child down slowly rose along with his frustration, but he couldn't be hasty. This might be his only chance at actual answers. He slowly sheathed his sword. "I don't give a damn about this Budehuc, boy. Which direction is L'Renouille?"
"What now?"
"Highland Kingdom, you simpleton."
The boy scoffed. "Highland? Look mister, that ain't too nice of you. Just because I work on the farm doesn't mean I don't pay attention in history class. You're a long way off from the Dunan Republic, so uh…"
Dunan Republic?!
His sword was back out of its hilt in a flash and pressed against the boy's neck. "Are you telling me Highland is no more? Speak up, maggot...or my hand might slip."
That did the trick. The child squirmed and whimpered. "I-I told you all I know! If you want to know more, there are way more people up north at Budehuc!"
Either this truly is some twisted form of hell, or…
He pressed the blade closer and felt the child swallow against the steel. "And this Budehuc...is it part of your Dunan Republic?" he spat. The words felt filthy on his tongue.
"It's a free trade zone, so...it's part of nothing, I guess? I don't know!"
"Tch. Consider yourself lucky, maggot," he released the boy. It wasn't worth dirtying his blade. Not if there was something bigger waiting for him ahead. His blood was boiling. Was this truly hell? Some kind of pathetic joke? After his loss in battle, was he living his afterlife in a twisted world where his entire kingdom was no more?
The child stumbled backwards and drew his scarf closer against his neck. "Y-you've got issues, mister! You're not like any Zexen knight I've ever met!"
"Budehuc, Zexen, what is this garbage?" he snarled and sheathed his sword. The option to draw blood wasn't completely off the table, but gathering information was still more valuable. "I demand answers, you worthless worm!"
Beads of sweat dripped down the boy's forehead despite the chilly evening air. It was obvious he was contemplating making a run for it. "Y-you're on the outskirts of Iksay Village, sir!"
"That name means nothing to me! You're going to have to try harder than that if you want to live."
The child started to sob. "I don't know what else you want to know! My pa sent me out to check on the livestock, and I heard you laughing and… and I thought it was weird seeing someone out here on New Year's Eve—"
"New Year's?" he paused. An uncomfortable notion tugged at the back of his mind.
Highland is no more. Either this is hell, or...
"What year is it?"
"W-what?"
"The year—what damn year is it?!"
"IS 480 tomorrow, sir!"
Impossible.
He wanted it to be a lie, but the child's voice was high and quivered with fear. Those weren't the words of a liar. Those were the words of someone scared to die. He leaned down and breathed in the boy's face, his breath a vapor of hot air. "And which way did you say this Budehuc was?"
"N-Northwards...just...follow the road over the hill," he sniffled.
"Today is your lucky day. I'm feeling charitable. I'll tell you what I'm going to do," he cracked his neck. "I'm going to find your Budehuc. And I'm going to confirm if what you said is true. If I find out you lied...I will return, and I will burn your Iksay Village to the ground."
The fear in the child's eyes was gratifying. If this was death, he was starting to feel alive again. "B-but I'm not lying…then what?"
"Then you can go home and tell everyone you know that Luca Blight, prince of Highland has returned."