Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to
Nintendo and their affiliates. I just am really grateful to its creators for giving
me such a wonderful game and media series to write about!
I also don't own anything related to Harry Potter, all that belongs to J.K. Rowling,
but thanks go to her as well because, using her wonderful work, I can expand this
story to make it more interesting.
I also don't own anything related to Naruto if you see me throw a little of that, too.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I said I'd never set foot in this place ever again and here I am.
Though technically, last time he said that he'd been floating. Still. He cut his ties to the League a long time ago and he had no intention of reviving whatever remained of his camaraderie with either its members or founders. He had a specific purpose for returning to the gaping bronze canyons and it had everything to do with his unofficial godson.
Now where is the entrance, King Boo mused, his steps echoing throughout the cavernous gorge. He walked along the sedimentary rock ledge and stopped along the middle of it. It was like a bridge between two sides of the canyon and beneath him was a winding navy river. It was a long and painful fall from several miles high, even for an immortal. That was why he panicked when the ground crumbled beneath his black boots and his body descended at an alarming rate. But it wasn't to his death that he fell, but to the floor of a plain, four-walled room. There were four sorcerers in each corner, armed only with their magic and, given their reputation, that was more than enough. The door of the room burst open as King Boo knew it would. He had to applaud the League for their precaution. Any trespassers would be transported to this room where escape from their fatal prosecution was impossible. If he wasn't mistaken, the enchantment automatically alerted one of the League founders, and that was him walking through the door now.
He wasn't wrong.
Callian hadn't aged a day in the decades King Boo had last seen him, but his magic could be the cause of that. He still had the same short black hair, strong jaw, and rugged, barrel-chested build beneath his tight beige shirt and black breeches. The chains on his boots clinked and the door shut, marking his arrival. His blue eyes searched for the intruder, and when he saw King Boo standing regally in the center of the room, he grinned broadly.
"Well if it isn't my old partner in crime!" He boomed, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. Inky tattoos littered the skin of his biceps down to his wrists.
He nodded to the four league members and they stood down, slinking back to the corners of the room. King Boo smiled faintly at Callian and greeted him with a nod.
Callian asked, "Why'd you use the visitor's entrance?"
"It's been so long, I've forgotten where the front door is." King Boo answered wryly.
Callian laughed and tilted his head. "Where've you been, you old scoundrel?"
"Here and there," King Boo answered vaguely.
"You're looking good." The sorcerer observed with an appraising nod.
King Boo said, "As are you, but I'm afraid this isn't a social call."
"Oh?" Callian spoke, his thick brows knitted. "Why have you come then?"
The raven-haired immortal stated, "I should think it's obvious."
The League founder's blank stare said otherwise.
In a quiet voice King Boo then entreated, "Let the boy go, Callian."
"What?" The founder asked, perplexed.
"I know what Ludwig did to you," King Boo stated, and Callian suddenly lost all his good humor. "But he was young and ignorant. Let him go."
Callian's features grew stormy and he narrowed his eyes and pushed his tongue against the side of his cheek, reining in his anger before speaking.
He asked in a darker tone than before, "Why would you he'd be here?"
"Nikolai kidnapped him." King Boo explained and asked, "I was under the impression he did so under your orders."
Callian scoffed and said, "I haven't seen Nikky in years."
King Boo frowned, skeptically so. This made Callian bark out a gruff laugh. He dropped his arms and gestured dramatically to the door that seemed to open of its own accord.
"What, you don't believe me?" Callian asked, his temper and voice rising. "Go on, give the whole headquarters a tour! You won't find the little demon here!"
King Boo's frown deepened.
Callian sneered, "Trust me, if I did have him, there'd be no parts of him left for you to collect."
"I understand." King Boo spoke, his mind elsewhere.
Where could Nikolai have taken him? The only other person who despises Ludwig as much as Callian does is…
"No," King Boo uttered with grave softness.
Callian misinterpreted the worry in his eyes and looked disgusted. He walked backwards out of the room slowly, talking as he did so.
"That boy's made his bed, Boo, so let him lie in it." Callian scowled. "If Nikky does bring him to me, you won't be able to protect him like last time."
Perhaps there's some truth in that, King Boo thought as he teleported away. The more I try to protect Ludwig, the more his fate seems to worsen.
If they didn't before, my troops are gonna' hate me.
I was nearly certain of it as I walked down towards the training site. Dean wasn't with me, he'd preferred to sleep in today. The whole while I walked I was thinking of how to break the news to my soldiers. For the second time in a row, they would be subjected to the General's presence. I had no excuse for them other than the fact that I'd impulsively brought this on us all, whatever lay in store for us, that is. But that was unnecessary, I realized, as I descended the sloping hill.
"What the…"
It looked like I was late to the party. Apparently Zair was really on board with all this because he had to be the one to set up the four metal posts in the empty space of land between the barracks, in front of the mess hall. The posts were roped off like a rectangular wrestling ring and in the center of it was the General himself. We locked eyes and he nodded at me as I made my way over.
Stood at attention they did, my troops, as I neared. They crowded the ring and looked sort of excited. That was confusing because if I knew them, and at this point I almost did, then I knew they looked forward to time with Zair with as little enthusiasm as a kid in line for a flu shot. So why were they all hyped up? I could tell by the way they steadily moved and itched to continue buzzing as they stood erect and with their hands down by their sides. I waved a hand for them to relax and they immediately swarmed me and started talking all at once.
"Commander, is it true?" Troy asked, elbowing his way to the front. He asked with his eyes shining with admiration, "Are you really gonna' fight the General?"
"What?" I frowned and turned to said man.
General Zair was a little less orderly today. Instead of the usual immaculate topknot, he wore his sleek black hair in a thick braid behind his head and the white shirt and black pants he wore were very light and casual. He crossed his arms and I was reminded of the muscles I saw last night. Enduring his 'gym class' was one thing, but there was no way I was gonna' take on that brick wall of a man alone.
"Who even said that?" I turned back to Troy.
From another side of the crowd I heard Lise-Marie's cold, deadpan voice ring out. The crowd parted for her when she did and I saw her next to Portia with her hand on her cocked hip.
"Is it true or not, Commander?" She asked. "What's going on?"
"Yeah," Portia frowned, her high cheekbones forming lines on either side of her nose. "Why is my father here? We just had the pleasure of seeing him yesterday."
"I know," I sighed. "But I have a good reason for this."
General Zair announced, "Your Commander asked if I would emulate the experience of fighting the Dark King for you."
Troy asked, sounding as if he wanted to scratch his curly hair. "Sir, how are you like the Dark King?"
"They're both tyrants." Portia muttered, then shot her father a tight, cheeky smile when he glanced at her.
"No," I said slowly. "Zair has the same power Bowser has, with the fire, that is."
"Not exactly." General Zair corrected me.
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
He bowed his head, swept his arm out graciously and said, "Come, Commander, I'll show you."
I did not want to step into that ring, but I had to be an example for the rest of my soldiers. They had to understand what we were up against. Besides, I faced the Dark King and at least now my life wasn't in jeopardy.
I think.
Under the rope I ducked and General Zair stood with his shoulders squared. He spread his legs shoulder-length apart and tilted his head.
"Don't I get some kind of armor?" I asked, stepping backwards against the thick rope barrier.
General Zair asked, "Did you have any when you encountered the Dark King?"
"No."
Zair looked impressed and said, "No? Then it's a wonder you're alive, Commander."
"You're telling me." I murmured to myself and heard the troops react to that with more whispering.
Zair stated, "Armor would be essential, yes. As well as a shield." The General turned and said, "Horace, if you would."
Again the crowd parted, this time for a man carrying plates of metal in his arms. Upon Zair's request, he came over to me and gestured for me to raise my arms. When I did, I was outfitted in a sort of metallic vest with two leather straps in the back. It had a pleated metal sarong in the front that went down to my knees and felt much, much less heavy than I expected. It was astonishing how advanced Chai Kingdom was. I wondered where they got their intelligence from; the real world maybe?
"Here you are, Commander." The man named Horace said as he handed me a shield.
It was also thin and sturdy and not too big. I could hold it easily in one hand. It and the armor did help me feel a little more secure, but I still didn't want to fight the General.
"Is fighting even necessary?" I asked evasively. "Couldn't you just…explain what we should do? You know, in theory?"
Zair stared at me and the troops stopped talking. When he deflated a bit and nodded, I heard some of them groan in disappointment and thought, well gee, I'm so sorry you won't get to see me get my ass kicked. Maybe some other time.
General Zair said, "The armor isn't so cumbersome that it will slow you down, for you'll need to be quick on your feet."
"Yeah, I know." I remarked.
He also said, "You should all improve your reflexes. You'll need to be able to throw up your shield at a moment's notice. Both it and the armor are able to withstand the hottest sort of fire. Your bodies," He remarked dryly, "are not."
"Wait," I heard Troy blurt, "Commander, so you're not going to fight the General?"
"Do you want to fight him?" I shot back, and the young man grew quiet.
This made Lise-Marie smirk and beside her Portia did, too. She was the one to speak.
She taunted, "Troy couldn't handle the pressure. He'd probably faint like a lady."
"Stop saying that!" Troy snapped and then declared, "I'll do it."
"No, don't." I warned.
Troy said, "I can do it, Commander. I got through basic training—"
"—barely," Portia snorted.
He shot a glower over at her and strode boldly to the ring, then hopped over the edge, his eyes hard and determined. Next to me he stood and I started taking off my armor, intent on giving it to my soldier.
"No, that's okay Commander." He insisted. "I don't need it."
"At least take the shield." I told him, not keen on seeing him get toasted.
Troy did that and I stepped back out of the ring. Immediately I was flanked by Portia, Lise, and Deanna and all three of them wore similar expressions of amusement; Lise's was more a look of quiet satisfaction.
"Alexander Troy," General Zair recited, eyeing the young man critically. "You're the one with the…delicate heart, aren't you?"
Troy flushed bright red but stood his ground holding his shield in front of his athletic body and raising his head like a warrior. He didn't fight like one, though. In fact, he didn't really fight at all. Zair had him off his feet so fast it wasn't even funny.
I winced for the guy when the General held up two fingers and fire shot out from the tips of them like a blue whip. Zair spun his fingers and the fire curled around one of Troy's ankles, yanking him forward by the leg. High in the air Zair dangled him, then closed his hand in a fist. The coil vanished and for a half of a nanosecond Troy was suspended upside down in the air with nothing holding him. Zair shot his fist forward and the coiled flame that hoisted Troy upwards was replaced by a boisterous plume of fire that slammed into the young man's stomach and sent him flying through the air. A collective 'oooh' rolled through the crowd like an audible wave.
I hurried over to where the soldier was lying on his side, moaning. He rolled onto his back in the grass and I squatted next to him and slapped at his cheek, trying to get his brown eyes to stop rolling. He looked at me, dazed.
"What happened?" He asked.
He was still holding onto the shield, amazingly, but it now slipped from his slack fingers. I couldn't see any burn marks on him and he didn't even smell like smoke. His t-shirt and pants were unmarred as well. Odd.
So this must be part of what Zair means when he says his powers are different from Bowser's, I mused, knowing Troy would be burnt to a crisp if he'd gone up against the latter.
"Can you walk to the infirmary?" I asked him.
Troy blinked and said, "What?"
"I guess that's a no." I murmured, then looked behind me and asked, "Can somebody help him to the doctor?"
Two pairs of boots parked themselves on the ground near the young man's thick curls. Troy blinked up at their owners, then scowled.
"At least you didn't pass out." Portia remarked with a helpful smile.
Lise-Marie shocked both me and Troy when she effortlessly grabbed his bicep and hauled him to his feet. He started to say something but was silenced with a sharp look from the long-haired girl. Instead of speaking, he allowed her to sling his arm over her shoulder. Most of his weight he leaned on her.
There's more to this skinny girl than meets the eye, I noticed, as well as, there's also more to her and Troy's relationship. I'd be wasting my time trying to figure that one out, though.
As the two of them headed off, the other troops murmuring behind their backs, Portia called out to them.
She teased Troy with, "Maybe Lise can help soothe your battered ego since I'm sure all the medicine in the world wouldn't be able to."
Lise-Marie stiffened and Troy glanced back at Portia but didn't retort.
"You really got your ass handed to you." She continued.
Troy snapped, "I'd like to see you do any better!"
"I could do better." Portia claimed. "Just watch."
"Portia, wait—" I advised, touching her arm.
She brushed me off and said, "It's alright, Commander. I've beaten my dad plenty of times."
General Zair didn't respond either in word or expression, just stood there with his arms folded and his intense black eyes on his daughter. He didn't encourage or dissuade her, just stood there and waited. The troops all gathered around the ring again, some of them gripping the rope in anticipation of this next fight. I couldn't see this ending well.
Well, she is his daughter. Maybe she'll be able to back up her confidence, I thought.
She had a lot of that as she sauntered over to the ring. She ducked under the rope and stretched one arm across her chest. In all black she was dressed, and I think the pants she wore were really made for a man, for they were baggier in the legs than the ones the other females were wearing. Such a tomboy.
From her pocket Portia took a band and tied up her violet hair and a clump of it formed a bang over her eye. She cracked her knuckles and some of the soldiers near her grimaced at the sound. Had she punched them with those deceptively feminine fists?
General Zair quietly said, "Portia, perhaps you'd like to step down? I would hate to embarrass you in front of your friends."
Portia rolled a pair of eyes that were so much like her father's and lunged at him. He was ready for her and I saw them engage in the same kind of martial-arts-like combat Zair was practicing in the forest. It was clear he'd taught the girl everything she knew, for she fought with ease.
"So aggressive," General Zair remarked as his daughter threw frequent punches and kicks his way. He may have smirked when he said, "Put as much energy behind remaining alert and you just might surpass even me."
Following his praise was the appearance of his fire. With an azure flame stemming from his foot he swept Portia's legs out from under her. She cursed as she fell backwards but sprung on her hands so that her stumbling ended with a flip. She stood a few feet away from the General, poised for defense.
"I'd surpass you? That's rich," Portia huffed, "You're always holding me back."
She wasn't very patient, unlike her father. She made to leap at him but he held her at arm's length with his fire. I noticed again what he was talking about earlier. Bowser fought in a crude, brash way; he blasted everything in sight with reckless abandon. His flames, so orange and bright, were always the same type of sporadic gusts and that was the opposite of Zair. Zair was precise, controlled in the way he used his fire. He could fashion his flames into whips or fists or spheres, and he could enshroud his arms and legs and hands and feet in fire to enhance ordinary blows. Not to mention he could somehow controlled whether or not his flames caused any lasting harm to his victims. That probably explained why Troy got away with minor bruises to his stomach and pride. Had it been Bowser that boy would be dead.
That's also gotta' be the reason Portia's still on her feet, I reasoned.
The girl was panting and her ponytail drooped low on her head but she was still standing with her back hunched over and her hands raised with her fingers straight and rigid as daggers. She glared at her father and stepped slowly, one foot over the other, around him. He kept shooting half-rings of fire out at her but she dodged them, sometimes even twisting her heels in a seemingly painful way to skirt the flames. She was acrobatic, I'd say that, but she was no match for the General. It was her rash tenacity that was her undoing. Like the older man said, if she put half as much effort into staying on her guard as she did in trying to beat the tar out of her dad, she wouldn't have left herself open for he to lock her in a hold. With her back against his chest Zair restrained the young woman and she struggled viciously. This wasn't a friendly match at all. There were clearly some unresolved issues at play between the relatives.
"That's enough." General Zair's voice was like dry leaves brushing the ground in the wind. He told her in the same tone, "There's so much you don't understand."
"Just let go of me." Portia's mouth veered downwards bitterly as her hair covered her bowed head.
Zair let her go but this was his daughter so it only surprised the rest of us when her arm shot out like lightening and her fist smacked right into the palm of his waiting hand. She had a darker glare for him then but he weathered her animosity with a long-suffering gaze. He stroked her fist with his thumb but that made the girl wrench her hand away and stride out of the ring.
"Commander, would you excuse me? I need to get something from my bunk." She had to ask my permission before going anywhere.
I nodded, knowing it was just a cover for her to go off and cool down somewhere. General Zair watched her leave and I watched him, not having a clue how someone who had the respect of so many could have earned her scorn.
"Um…is this a bad time?"
I glanced over to the top of the hill where that voice had come from. It was another guy, this one wearing jeans and a brown bomber jacket and red and white trainers. He had an assault rifle in his hands and a perplexed look on his face. By the Council he was joined and I knew he had to be from the 'real' world.
"Your brother Mario sent me." The guy stated, confirming that. "You're Lorenzo, aren't you?"
"Luigi."
"Right." The man nodded. "I'm here to show you and yours how to work these guns."
Just what this situation needs; lethal weapons.
It was hard to say what was scarier: the pictures or his father. Those pictures along the wall, of varying dimensions, all bore one similarity; that being the grotesque expressions contorting the portraits' faces. Some of the individuals appeared to be in immense pain, some in epic stages of fright. They were all very unsettling, especially to a child. A five-year-old one stood in the middle of the room with his hands covering his ears and his jade eyes darting from the hideous paintings to the other terrifying sight.
Dozens of expletives flew like bats from the Dark King's mouth as he threw one of his biggest tantrums to date.
He could feel his power around as soon as he appeared in the estate and had tracked it to this room, then hunted around until he'd pinpointed its location to one of the portraits. It was sealed inside one of them and there was no way he could get it out. That was why he was having a fit now, for the fallen king had torn the picture apart as he endeavored to free his power. He'd punched at it until his knuckles bled and scratched his nails down to nubs against its papery surface but none of his actions yielded any results. He'd yelled at it, cursed at it, tried to pry it from the wall; none of that worked. His body heaved with each angered breath as he now exhausted his latest effort: glaring balefully at the navy-haired visage of his oldest son.
"When I see King Boo, I'm gonna' murder him for this." Bowser growled.
"Good luck with that. He's already dead."
Bowser whirled around and pinned a sharp look on his son, so small and frightened. It wasn't him who'd spoken, for his large eyes and helpless expression told of his innocence. Not to mention the voice had sounded a little older. Bowser then glanced towards the door of the gallery and found the culprit. Another of his…children.
Alabaster skin, green eyes, and long, lime-colored hair weren't ringing any bells for the Dark King, but the smaller child behind the tall one's legs did. His multi-colored hair framed his eagerly smiling face as he ran from behind his big brother.
"Lemmy!"
"B-Jun!"
Bowser recognized the one that was hugging his heir. They were about the same height and had spent so much time together in the palace. He gazed from the two boys up to the third and crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest.
"You must be the one that left the note." Bowser stated, sizing the adolescent up.
He's scrawny but those eyes…I can tell he's smart. I wonder how he found me, the redhead thought.
"Yes, that was me." Iggy said in answer.
So this is what he looks like, he thought as he stared at his father. He'd been to the mountains again but when he found the royal was no longer there, he used his enchanted map to lead him towards Evershade Valley. He didn't expect the king to be here, but he soon found out why. Perceptive lime eyes scoped out the damaged gallery and his sixth sense alerted him to the hotbed of magic and power surrounding the portrait of Ludwig. He quickly deduced what was going on. He was curious about why Bowser was trying to free what lay inside, but he decided to stick with getting what he came for.
He stared at his volatile father and said, "I know you probably don't remember me, but I'm your son."
"I know who you are." Bowser told him. "What are you trailing me for?" He smirked and asked, "Did you come to join your old man?"
"No." Iggy was sure of that as he replied flatly. He narrowed his eyes and said, "I'm looking for my mother."
Bowser looked genuinely befuddled for a moment but then rolled his gold-flecked eyes and said, "Then you better keep looking."
"I know you know where she is." Iggy spoke assuredly.
"She's dead."
"…she is?"
"Probably," Bowser shrugged nonchalantly, then added, "How the hell should I know?"
He then turned his back on the boy he deemed to be of no use to him and faced the portrait. Immediately his scowl was back and he resumed his work of trying to demolish the thing. While he smeared blood from his healing fists all over Ludwig's pale cheeks and mouth, Iggy put his cunning to work.
He must know something about my mom, the thirteen-year-old reasoned. He's just being difficult. But if I could offer him something in return…
Uncaringly the two youngest people in the room shared in a happy reunion. Bowser Junior smiled at his best friend and brother and Lemmy did the same.
The former asked, "Where did you go when you left last time?"
Lemmy replied, "Um, we went to lots of places, then we came back to the mountains but you and your Daddy was gone."
"Oh yeah," Junior recalled. "We left that place. It was so cold over there. I did not like it."
"You and your Daddy gonna' stay here now?" Lemmy then enquired.
Junior glanced around and shivered at the paintings, his nose wrinkling and his red mouth puckering in distaste.
"I would be, um, so, I mean," He struggled. "It would be bad if we did stay here."
"How come?" Lemmy frowned.
Junior told him, "I don't like the ugly pictures. And they have ghosts here. I heard them when me and Daddy got here. They told us to go away in a real mean voice."
Lemmy blinked, just now noticing the portraits and he, too shivered. They didn't seem to bother Iggy, but then Iggy had a lot on his mind as he stared at the unsuccessful king. What was bothering him in a sort of nitpick-ish way was how wrong the royal was going about the problem.
"You'll never get it out that way." He spoke quietly.
Bowser frowned at Iggy, then followed the boy's gaze over towards the portrait. He grew irritated at having been called out on the futility of his actions and dropped his arms so that his fists were balled near his legs.
"What would you know, kid?" He sneered.
Great, another know-it-all, Bowser thought with Ludwig in mind.
Iggy looked unfazed and just as cool as his satiny white cloak. The teenager pushed it off his shoulders, revealing his outfit beneath, and put his hands in his pants pockets. His fingers brushed the minimized version of his enchanted map.
He approached his sire and said, "The power's sealed magically in that portrait. You'll have to unbind the seals to get it free."
His eyes were trained and he could practically see the threaded weave of magic that held a mass of dark power caged behind it. Iggy knew what he was talking about and as that became clear to Bowser, the king changed his tune.
He unclenched his fists and smoothed his features into an obliging expression.
Smoothly he asked, "Do you know how to do that?"
"Yes."
Doesn't he? He is my father, isn't he? Why doesn't he just use his magic, Iggy thought, then wondered if it was because the king sincerely didn't know how. For some reason that made Iggy smile amusedly.
Bowser missed that smile but prompted, "Well go on and do it then."
Iggy asked, "Whose power is that?"
"Mine." Bowser spoke curtly.
"If it's yours," Iggy drawled, "then why was it locked in there in the first place?"
Bowser frowned impatiently and snapped, "I don't know. Can you unseal it or not?"
"I can." Iggy told him.
"Great—"
"—If you can tell me where my mother is." The teenager tacked on.
Bowser's expression fell like a stone and his brows knitted in consternation. He couldn't fathom why he had to have spawned such insufferably clever little brats.
Falsely he smiled and said, "Sure, kid, I'll tell you right where you can find her."
In the fucking morgue, Bowser added in his head.
But Iggy shook his and the tail of his hair whipped around his neck. He told his father, "I'll unseal your power while you tell me where she is."
Bowser ran a hand through his red mane and snorted, shaking his head down at the boy whose eyes were locked with his.
I knew he was smart, he assessed, it's too bad he doesn't want to come with me. I could use him in my empire. But at least he's good for something.
"Alright, kid." The king relented, then turned and looked at his heir and said, "Junior go get me a piece of paper and something to write with."
"But I don't even know where that's at!" The child proclaimed in distress.
Bowser's frown was quick and his temper quicker but before he could berate the boy, Iggy headed for the door. He knew the estate well, it'd been his sanctuary for a brief time. As he crossed the foyer, he began to have doubts about his next course of action. He remembered how good King Boo was to him as he bounded up the staircase and he wondered if he was doing the old immortal a disservice by unsealing Bowser's power.
What if King Boo sealed it for a reason, Iggy worried. I don't want to betray him. He helped me so much. But…I've got to find my mother. And if this is the way to do it, so be it.
Iggy took a writing utensil and scrap of parchment from the immortal's library, and he also left something, too. His map. That way King Boo would at least know where the power was. It wasn't as if Iggy needed it anymore. In his opinion, his father fell short of his expectations and he had no intentions of ever seeing him again.
Well, after this day.
"Come on, get started," Bowser urged when Iggy returned to the gallery.
Iggy did so and calculated that he'd be able to ask about three or four questions in the time it would take him to unseal the power from the portrait. He handed Bowser the paper and scoffed inside when the king furiously penned something down onto it.
I knew he was lying, Iggy thought, then feared he may be being lied to again. His hesitation made the king glare at him.
"We had a deal," he reminded the younger Koopa.
Iggy started to say something, but figured if the king was lying, asking him whether or not he was lying would do him no good. He didn't know if Bowser was so desperate he would write down anything, or if he was so desperate he'd figure he had nothing to lose by writing down the truth.
"Here," Bowser shoved the paper in the boy's face with a tight smile. "A show of good faith."
Iggy took the paper and examined the words on it. He glanced between it and his father incredulously.
"Don't look at me like that." Bowser groused. "It's not like I put her there."
Iggy dropped the paper, having committed the words to memory. It wasn't like that was hard to do. Those words had shocked him enough to leave a lasting mark in his mind.
He turned to the portrait in silence and hovered his palms in front of his brother's painted face. He closed his eyes and sent magical vectors from the tips of his fingers towards the unseen ones woven in front of the picture. He knotted his magic around King Boo's and began to loop the seals over, around, and under each other, undoing them like one would a matrix of thread.
Solemnly he asked, "How long has she been there?"
Bowser said behind him, "You're asking the wrong person. I haven't seen any of them since I had the lot of them…that is, I haven't seen them in ages."
"Did you even know her?" Iggy asked him softly.
"Not even in the physical sense."
"But you must have at least seen her face," Iggy persisted. "Did she mean nothing to you?"
Bowser's voice took on an almost defensive edge. "Look, kid, what do you want me to say? That I loved her or something? Give me a damn break. She was a means to an end. They all were."
Iggy stopped and stepped back from the portrait to give his father a proper, disgusted glare. Forget disappointment, Iggy was ashamed to be the son of someone so egregiously shallow and callous.
This explains a lot concerning Ludwig, Iggy thought.
"Why'd you stop?" Bowser demanded.
Iggy told him, "I'm finished."
"If you're finished then why isn't—" Bowser ended his sentence prematurely in favor of gazing down at his healed but bloody hands. His face lit up in a broad, greedy grin that showed all of his pointed teeth. Absolutely vivid with pleasure were his jade eyes and this all worried Iggy even more. It just didn't look or feel right, seeing his 'father' so happy.
What have I done, the teenager pondered, what have I really done? What does this mean?
He didn't know but he was anxious to leave. He asked his delighted sire how to get to the location of the place Bowser wrote down and the horn-bearing royal had no qualms about telling him exactly where to go. He'd gotten what he wanted, so why not?
"Let's go, Lemmy."
"No!"
Iggy had just closed the folds of his white cloak around his shoulders when he heard his younger brother's negative declaration. He asked again for Lemmy to come with him but the boy shook his head and refused to let go of the prince's hand.
"I don't want to go," Lemmy said, "I wanna' stay with B-Jun. Why we can't stay with him if he is our brother and that's our Daddy and we're all a family?"
Iggy grimaced and said, "Don't you want to see your mother?"
"Oh, his mother's dead." Bowser stated matter-of-factly.
Lemmy acted as if he didn't even hear that because his biggest concern was clinging to his red-haired relative's hand. Junior also pleaded with Iggy.
"You need to stay with us," He begged, "Because then we'll be all together when my Daddy has his emp-eye—"
"Empire." Bowser corrected him absently.
"What's that?" Lemmy asked.
"It's like a kingdom," Junior recited, "only it's bigger. Like the whole world, that much bigger."
Iggy rolled his eyes and said, "Lemmy we don't have time for this."
"You go." Lemmy suggested. "I'll stay with B-Jun."
Iggy started to put his foot down but it just so happened he caught the unseeing eye of Ludwig on the wall. The last thing he wanted to do was be like his controlling older brother, but if he made Lemmy tag along with him on his quest for his mother knowing his little brother's mom was dead, and thus the trip served no purpose for him, he'd be no better than Ludwig.
If he wants to stay, who am I to stop him? Iggy mused. But…is Bowser really someone he needs to be around? Well, Junior's around the same age and no harm has come to him, so he'll be safe. And I doubt there's anything nefarious Bowser could use Lemmy for; he's too little.
Iggy looked over at Bowser and asked, "You would allow this?"
With a cursory glance over at Lemmy the royal shrugged.
Iggy said, "So be it."
He went over and stooped to Lemmy's height and laid his hands on his shoulders. He gave his brother's hair a stroke and smiled faintly at him.
"You gonna' be gone a long time?" Lemmy asked.
Iggy told him, "Not too long. I'll be watching you."
"How?"
Iggy just kissed his forehead and stood. Casting a final glance at Bowser, Iggy vanished. That left the two boys alone with their father and he was grinning again. He was in such a good mood that he picked the both of them up and carried them, one child on each hip, out of the estate.
"What's so good, Daddy?" Junior asked, smiling a bit.
"The Dark King has risen!"
Both boys clapped their hands.
A/N: Thanks for reading. I've quit some jobs and now I just work one at a hospital so yay it's what I wanted but boo I only have one day off a week. Oh well. Gotta' make money since Fanfiction ain't raking in the dough, haha.
Some things are about to come to light, but I won't spoil what they are [you can probably guess] all in all, the happy times are about to be over ):
Anyway, thanks for the reviews and please leave more!
Until next time...
~DymondGold~