phew, I rewrote this like three times and I don't want to re-write it any more so... hope its good enough.
much love ty
Armour: Victide Armour (Ranger)
Weapon: Tendon Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (400/400)
The Slayer did not like to think.
In general, the poor boy-... the poor 'man', seemed quite content to keep his higher brain functions to a minimum. Complex concepts exhausted him. Long diatribes went into one ear and out the other. His thoughts appeared to be elementary and sparsely scattered, and he liked to keep it that way. This level of mental capacity was quite astonishing for somebody no less than three weeks old, but The Guide had never treated The Terrarian his age. He was a full grown infant, and was expected to take care of himself. The weight of such responsibility made The Terrarian slow to speak, and (usually) slow to act. He wasn't a very thoughtful person, but he certainly tried his best to be... so when he was faced with a decision, he faced it was exceeding caution. The Terrarian was fully aware he wasn't very smart. He had confessed as much, and it seemed to be a point of great contention for him. He regarded his own mind with suspicion and tread carefully with it. The worst thing anyone could ask of him was to make weighty decisions, especially under the pressure of time.
"Slayer - Its between me and The Dryad! You need to choose, now!"
And right now, it was this slow and cautious nature that was causing The Guide a considerable amount of angst. He needed The Dryad dead. He needed her dead. Now. The 'cautious' route would be to sit and wait. To talk everything out. To get every side of the story - and possibly to compromise... but The Guide could not afford that. The longer the issue rested, the more likely he would lose ... because he was locked in combat with The Dryad. She was in the right. He was in the wrong. She was telling the Truth. He was lying, and because he was lying, he could not argue against her. The most he could do was to silence and discredit her.
And he had only one method of 'silencing' at his disposal.
A permanent one.
He needed The Slayer to kill The Dryad.
The Guide gritted his teeth as he stood there, clinging to the cool stones of The Castle's main archway. The rocks were rough-hewn and tugged at his skin where he leaned against them. The scratching and the cold helped to keep him awake. A little bit of pain helped him to pin himself down and focus. He opened his eyes wide and stared at the two figures standing before him in the dim, odd lighting. The Dryad - his enemy - was attached to the ceiling, drooping down to cover the entirety of the castle's back wall. Her tremendous bulk was made of all sorts of woodland parts. Large fungal growths attached to great tree boughs, attached to the wings of a dragonfly, attached to the a jungle's canopy. Roots, flowers, vines, parts of insects, dirt and stone, her form was entirely amorphous and dotted with various glowing bits. Pulsing luminescent flowers that emitted a sleepy glow. Gentle pink lights filtered out from the centre of great flowers. Weird glowing mushrooms seemed to sway in a non-existent breeze and emitted hallucinogenic spores. The Dryad was terrifying and beautiful; her thousands of iridescent eyes hovered peacefully over them.
The Slayer can kill her... I'm sure he can manage it...
And standing beneath her was a small armoured form, dressed in dense platinum plates layered over thick chain mail. The Guide once had opportunity to handle that armour, but found it so incredibly heavy he could hardly lift it - much less wear it. But weight didn't seem to bother The Terrarian at all. He moved about as if he weren't encumbered with three hundred pounds of forged metal. As always, his armour was burnished clean - foggily reflecting The Dryad's lights; his cape and plume were spotless and flowed oddly, as if they had taken on their wearer's otherworldly qualities. When he turned to look at him, his neck twisted further than was possible. Although his face was well hidden behind that slatted visor, The Guide could easily tell his expression was guarded.
He's nervous... he won't act rashly...
How was The Guide going to trick The Slayer into killing somebody he didn't want to? What trickery must he employ to accomplish this? The Guide knew his companion had no qualms about killing. He had murdered The Travelling Merchant (twice, if his story was to be believed) without batting an eye. He had killed The Revived Merchant. He had tried to kill The Party Girl. If The Guide sicced him on some poor nobody in the street, there was no doubt in his mind that the almost-man would rend heads from necks without a second thought...
"(Kill me? What sort of nonsense is that... Little Creature, look at him - the poor man. He's not in his right mind, I'm afraid.)"
"..."
But The Dryad wasn't some 'nobody'.
The Guide didn't know how much time those two had spent together, nor what they involved themselves in - but for one reason or another, The Terrarian was quite fond of The Dryad. This was not particularly surprising. After all, her intentions towards the two of them have been utterly benevolent. She had been nothing but helpful and forthcoming, and she did not hide anything. It wasn't her nature to. In some ways, she and The Terrarian were similar. Pure creatures to whom deceit was unnatural. It was no wonder they got along so well.
And her goals align with his... She wants me alive for her bullshit spell... and he-... tch...
The Dryad wanted him alive to preserve the world. The Slayer wanted him alive to preserve his world. The Terrarian would not bear to lose him again - he had made that exceedingly clear. When they were separated by that great blast, he had gone through hell to return to his side. He would never accept The Guide's mission to destroy himself. Even if everything were explained to him, it was doubtful The Terrarian would see reason. He was the vehicle by which The Wall would be destroyed. It was therefore imperative the consequences of his 'mission' never reach his ears. If they did, The Terrarian would refuse to participate. If he refused to participate, The Guide would lose not just his soul, but the souls of all those he loved.
I need to save myself at all costs. If The Terrarian is sad for a while, so be it. I won't burn in hell for his feelings...
The Guide stood in the doorway of the castle, panting hard and clinging weakly to the doorway. He was tired. He wanted to drop, but desperation kept him alert. The Dryad's sedative that remained in his system was making him groggy. His limbs felt as if they were made of lead and when he moved, he was struggling through molasses. He was speaking as clearly as he could - but was unable to keep the slur completely out of his voice. He sucked in a deep breath and focused his wavering vision. He took a deep breath and pointed an accusative finger at The Dryad.
Then, with an earnest face, began to lie.
"Slayer, have I ever lied to you? I have never steered you wrong. I've been with you from the very beginning - from the moment you were born. You've relied on me your whole life... and now, will you now turn your back on me? Listen!" The Guide dropped his voice into a forceful hiss. "If you don't kill The Dryad - The Dryad will kill me!"
"..."
The light was odd and dim. Outside, the darkness was black as pitch and the stained glass shimmered as The Dryad's light refracted off of it. A cold draft silently gusted in through the open door, and The Guide shivered - his shirt damp from laying in the grass. Terrarian's eyes flashed as he glanced between the two of them. His form was tense and trembled as if under great pressure and his sword glinted and flickered in the many pulsing lights. It was as sharp and deadly as always, but it wobbled in his hand, as if attempting to squirm from his grasp. Behind him, The Dryad rustled her enormous, sprawling bulk. Her voice boomed out like tectonic plates groaning against each other.
"...Ha! Oh you selfish little human." The Dryad addressed him with considerable wrath. "Me? -I- wish you harm? Is that all you can come with? Do you not realize you're speaking to the one who saved your life? The fact that you're breathing is enough evidence to my benevolence... Little Creature - do you hear this? Come, let us be reasonable."
The Terrarian didn't turn to look at The Dryad. Instead, he continued to stare blankly at The Guide, his face a cold mask beneath that steel visor. He didn't say anything, but The Guide was well aware of what he was thinking. The brat was agreeing with The Dryad. He wanted to sit and wait. It hurt him to know The Guide was upset, but at the same time, he didn't want to kill The Dryad. The Guide had hoped a death threat was urgent enough to invoke some sort of actionable emotion, but The Terrarian was proving himself more reserved than anticipated.
You little shit! You know you're stupid! Stop thinking and just do what I tell you!
The Guide staggered into the room. He still felt weak from the pollen, so it wasn't difficult to exaggerate his condition. He swayed and wobbled dramatically as he made his way towards The Terrarian, making a specific point to cling to the pillars whenever he passed them by. The room was silent as he closed about half the distance - then stopped. He made a show of panting heavily and lifted his eyes to the two creatures huddled at the far end of Amidas' courtroom..
"..."
There was a long moment of tense silence before The Terrarian stepped out from beneath The Dryad and walked over to him. His movements were careful and guarded - even suspicious. His footsteps, loud on the cobbled stones. Behind him, The Dryad stretched her mass outwards but was unable to get within earshot without distending from the ceiling. She was content to hover over them to watch from a distance, her wooden human-ish appendage hanging limply from the stamen of a tremendous orchid. It's face was distorted into a warped sneer.
*tap, tap... tap, tap*
The Terrarian came to a stop, standing a little further away than he normally did. That wouldn't do. The Dryad's roots were slowly creeping towards them over the floor, and if they spoke in anything louder than a murmer - she would surely discover the contents of their conversation. With both hands, The Guide reached out and grabbed a hold of The Terrarian's white fur muff - pulling him in. The Terrarian frowned beneath his visor but allowed it. He cocked his head to the side and raised a half-query. The Guide cut him off. He made his voice low and pleading, a fierce whisper.
"... Guide what-"
"Please. Listen to me."
The Terrarian fell silent. Curiosity crept into those dull eyes.
"The Dryad... what did she say to you?" The Guide kicked his brain into overdrive, carefully considering what he would say to The Slayer if in a similar position. "Did she accuse me of being suicidal? That I need to stay in this village - with her? Surely she is not against you going out to fight The Crimson, but I must stay - right? I must be safe, so that's why I was drugged and left facedown in the field outside... Tell me, Slayer... use that brilliant month-old brain of yours. Doesn't that sound a tad suspicious? Maybe just a little?"
"..."
Silence. The Terrarian dropped his head in shame as he clearly didn't. (The Guide had never insulted The Terrarian's mental capacity until now. He would feel considerable guilt for this afterwards). The Guide spoke quickly, moving on before his words could really sink in. He was pulling ideas out of thin air. He had no real argument at all. He simply hoped that The Terrarian's 'Brilliant month-old brain' wouldn't discover the glaring holes in his logic and simply take his word as gospel.
"And what of me? Do you think I'm asking you to kill The Dryad on a whim? I scolded you only an hour ago for killing The Merchant. Of course I don't like you killing people! You know me, Slayer. You know I don't ask these things of you for no reason. Something like this is a very grave thing... so trust me and do what I say."
The Guide had softened his tone. He was wearing his most convincing face. He had done everything he could, but still - The Terrarian had that doubtful, indecisive look in his eye. The almost-man's lip was curled in bitterness beneath his visor. The tip of his blade tapped on the floor rhythmically. Every muscle in his armoured frame was taut as a wire, but he didn't look like he was about to spring into action. Instead, his whole form quivered. His feet were planted. His back was hunched. He had staunchly bunkered down, and he was listening, but he wasn't going to obey.
Fuck!
And for the first time in a long while, The Guide cursed him in his heart. What good was a soldier who wouldn't take orders?! If The Slayer refused to fulfill the purpose The Guide had set before him - then why was he wasting his time here?! The Guide gritted his teeth and fought to prevent his anger from showing on his face. He needed to keep things under control... he was desperate. He was drugged up. He was probably not thinking clearly - but he knew he needed The Dryad dead. He would deal with the fallout later.
He tried again. He made his voice like honey.
"And yes, I know you like The Dryad. I'm sure she was very sweet to you... but I will not survive the night if you leave me alone with her. She wishes to kill me. She will deny it, but you must weigh my word against hers. Slayer, I have never steered you wrong before. You have no reason to disbelieve me... But if you insist on letting me die..."
He reached out and grabbed hold of The Terrarian's helmet by the horns, pulling him close enough for his breath to fog the Terrarian's helm.
"Then I need to run. I need to leave... and you can stay here with The Dryad. If you won't kill her, that's the only option for me. Do you understand me?"
"..."
A sharp intake of breath. A glint of disturbance in that cold, flat gaze. The Guide could almost see the gears turning feebly behind The Terrarian's eyes, but overlaying it all was the beginnings of fear. The fear of abandonment. The fear of being alone. It had taken root in The Terrarian's mind... and it just needed a little push to consume him. The Guide exhaled and let go of The Terrarian's helmet. He feigned the look resignation and stepped back. He whispered in a hoarse and broken voice.
"I'm... going to pack a bag."
"...Guide, wha-"
"This may be the last time I see you."
"Wait! Guide, stop. Stop!"
It seemed that the weight of The Guide's intentions had finally gotten through The Terrarian's thick skull. An armoured hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist, tightening just beyond what was comfortable. The almost-man's trembling had stopped. The lie had generated fear, and fear exchanged caution for desperation. There was no longer any time to sit and think carefully. The Terrarian was going to make a decision - and The Guide had manipulated the circumstances so he would make the wrong one.
I win...
The Terrarian's voice overlay the surroundings. His tone was panicked. Behind him, The Dryad stirred - suddenly privy to the conversation that would soon result in her death. She rustled and peered down at them with her large sheets of iridescent eyes, maneuvering her bulk off the ceiling and down to the floor. Her tendrils began creeping around them like a great woodland snake. The Slayer paid her no mind. He clung to The Guide as if his very life depended on it.
"Guide, you cannot leave. I need you-"
"You are asking me to die, Slayer. How can I stay?"
"..."
The Terrarian made a frustrated noise. His breathing became rapid. He ground his molars. He held on to The Guide's wrist for a long moment before shaking his head violently as if he were a wild beast tearing at something with his teeth. He vanished his blade and stepped closer, his footsteps loud and his demeanor menacing. Even if The Guide wanted to flee, he knew he wouldn't be able to outrun his companion. He stood his ground as The Terrarian seized him by the collar and pulled him upwards, pressing the sharp edge of his visor into The Guide's forehead. His voice was flat - as always, but the force in his gaze caused The Guide's heart to sink in his chest. It wasn't fear he was feeling. It was something else.
"The Dryad... She said... you would kill yourself. Promise me that you won't."
"What?" The Guide scoffed shakily, but couldn't raise his eyes to meet The Terrarian's. He tried to dislodge his hold on him, but his companion would not let him go. Eventually he stretched his cheeks into a fake smile, even as ice ran through his veins.
"Promise what? I'm trying to survive. Something like suicide... That's ridiculous!"
A long moment of silence. The Slayer bared his teeth.
"No. Guide. Look me in the eyes and promise me. Promise me you won't kill yourself. Promise that when this is all done, you won't leave me alone here. Promise!"
The Guide scoffed again. He felt his facade cracking as those flat, pleading eyes burning holes in his face. Ah, what a horrible thing he was doing. What a horrible parent he was. The Terrarian trusted him completely. He was disbelieving common sense in favor of the lie The Guide was now spinning into his ears. This was a lie that would cost The Terrarian everything he held dear. Because of it, he was going to cut down The Dryad - his friend - with his own hands. Because of it, he was going to lose his Guide, watch him die in front of him. Would The Terrarian hate him when this was all over? Probably.
But what choice did he have?
This wasn't his fault. He couldn't be blamed. He was only doing what was best for himself and his family... and besides, all of this happened because of The Dryads. If only they hadn't 'blessed' his village - everything would be fine. He wouldn't have to make such a decision. In fact, if only The Vulture-Headed mage hadn't come to kill everyone! If only The Terrarian hadn't been born.
Tch...
But even as he repeated these justifications to himself, his heart was like lead. There were snakes squirming in his guts. He raised his eyes to meet The Terrarian's, but as he faced the innocent creature that he would soon destroy - his own soul turned against him in disgust. He couldn't look at him. The Guide fought to keep his hands from shaking as he reached up and wrapped his arms around the Terrarian's neck, pulling the stiff figure into an embrace - and sparing himself that baleful, piercing gaze.
He pressed his cheek against The Terrarian's cool helmet and stared past him, at The Dryad's rustling, pulsing form. The Terrarian's frame was tense, but after a moment, he let his head droop into The Guide's shoulder - as if in reluctant defeat. The Guide could hear his breath ringing hoarsely in his helmet. He could feel fingertips digging into his back. The lie had been believed. And now, The Guide's enemies will be laid to waste.
I win... I win...
The Guide patted the white feather plume and glared at The Dryad.
He hardened his gaze.
He hardened his heart.
And with a silvered tongue, he lied once more.
"Slayer, I won't die. I won't kill myself. And I won't abandon you. I promise. I swear it by my soul. Is that enough?"
"...yes."
"Good. Use your bow... frostfire arrows will be most effective. I'll wait for you outside."
Slayer: Suicide is Illegal
Everyone:...
Slayer: Penalty is death
Dryad: "If you actually kill yourself, how would he react?"
Guide: "He would probably write a sad letter, burn it and sit depressed for a while. Thats what i would do"
Dryad: "That sounds reasonable and managable"
*guide dies*
*Town explodes. Several alarms in neighboring towns go off*
Dryad: "Or he would do that"
Guide whyyy are you being evill noo
*me, the author, rubbing my hands together in wicked glee*
btw somehow Slayer's colloquial name is just 'Bitch'. I pretty much call him 'Bitch' outside the story. The name originated from some art where he always has a resting bitchface, which became Mister Bitchface, which became bitch. So if you join discord and I say 'bitch' it;s Slayer
leave reav