TBOS - LS R4

Two Birds, A King, and A Puppet

Regis didn't know how long he rode through the desert, scenery flashing by. The sun had set a long time ago, cloaking everything in darkness with no moon to see by. The bike itself had a bright light emanating from its front but it was next to useless with the speed he was going. More than once the bike had swerved of its own accord to avoid some sort of obstacle.

Somewhere between twilight and dawn was when Regis felt the shift. The ground dropped from underneath him and the world spiraled into an unseen drain, pulling him along for the ride. He held on to the bike and bobbed up and down in the tumultuous reality like a ship in a storm.

Colors began to separate from one another and define themselves in dark-toned shapes. In moments the chaotic oblivion had resolved into the foyer of a candle-lit mansion. Towering, shattered glass windows let in the furious storm outside, scattering puddles around the blood-spattered wooden floor.

Regis instinctively reached for his sword as the bike reformed into his medallion, and of course found nothing. He instead pulled the arrow construct from the satchel and examined it. If it worked the way it had for his own, then it would form into what he saw it as. In the next moment he held a spear. Unlike the blade it had not altered to his child form, perhaps because it recognized he was not the true owner? Or maybe because Regis had never heard of a tiny spear and the transformation reacted to it.

In any case, he had a weapon. A large weapon he had not trained in, but it was better than nothing. Perhaps he would be able to find a sword in this place, wherever it was.

He took a look around the ruined foyer. The front door was sealed and did not budge no matter how he pushed and pulled. He tried kicking the shards of a window out and instead bounced himself off it, unable to muster enough force with his tiny form. A few minutes later he found that only the door in front of him was unlocked, leading further into the mansion.

He pushed open the thick, wooden slab and scurried into the room before it boomed shut again. Regis heard the door lock and the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he hefted the spear up, straining his eyes to pierce the gloom.

Candles flared to life in the room, revealing a long table laden with all manner of dishes still with steam coming off them. Whole turkeys, sliced oranges, mashed potatoes, even those jerky strips he had developed a taste for in the prison rations during his repeated stays in Arama's dungeons.

There at the head of the table, munching on a drumstick, was the Iron Lord himself. He looked at Regis but made no move to get up or acknowledge the tiny hero. Red curtains hung behind him, concealing a good portion of the room.

Regis hefted his spear and immediately felt it push back against him, refusing to advance further. He lowered it and the pressure vanished. He took a step forward and met no resistance, causing him to scowl. Arama was inviting him to talk, as he had the other times when Regis had breached his sanctuary.

The Iron Lord finished off the drumstick and dropped it onto his plate with a loud clatter. He wiped his hands and said, "Welcome to my humble abode, Jenks. Have you thought about my offer? Maybe you want your sword back? Or perhaps you're here for the little bird. Name your desire, Sovereign Slayer."

Regis bristled at the title, recalling the sword hilt in his satchel. "Sparrow. Where is she?"

Arama gestured to the side and left half of the curtain rose up, revealing a cage of iron bars with no door. Sparrow was chained upright inside, her eyes closed in exhausted sleep. Strangely, her features were scrunched up, as it caught in a perpetual nightmare.

Regis took another step forward and was pushed back. Arama waggled his finger at Regis, "No, no, no. Not so easily, Jenks. If you want her back you'll have to play my game again. You succeeded with the last one because your opponents happened to desire allies. Let's see if that will remain true with this one." He snapped his fingers.

The door behind Regis opened up and a man was pulled through from the hip, having been listening from outside. He had white hair with a thick streak of black running through it, reverse-matching his eyes. He was dressed in a suit but otherwise had nothing very special so far as Regis could see. In all likelihood though, he was another traveler of the Book which meant he too had a gift. Might have to watch out for that.

As Regis was sizing up Magpie, Magpie was doing the same to everything in the room. Already he felt his teleportation locked away, meaning this place had iron in the walls for some god-forsaken reason. He'd heard enough of the conversation to deduce that he was going to be a participant in some sort of game where he honestly didn't care about the prize. A single human girl in sorry condition? That wasn't nearly enough motivation for him. That and this kid standing next to him with the spear. He'd already figured out from his encounter with Alice that kids in this place were never to be underestimated, especially not when they looked like they'd stepped straight off the throne in a fantasy tale and had been referred to as Sovereign Slayer. And that guy sitting at the end of the food-laden table, he felt his stomach rumble, was definitely trouble.

Arama gestured to Magpie. "Here is your opponent. Or ally as it may turn out. I have a feeling it may make little difference for this game."

"Now hold on," said Magpie, tearing his gaze away from the delectable meals in front of him. "What reason do I have for dancing to your tune? I already heard that girl is the prize, but honestly this kid can have her because I'm not interested."

Arama grinned. "Of course not, that is Regis's prize. Yours will be something equally desirable, Nicholas." He showed some teeth as he casually dropped the demon's human name. "Observe."

The rest of the curtain rose and Regis felt the breath catch in his throat. He snapped the tip of the spear up and leveled it at the new threat.

Valentine gazed at Regis impassively, the Crown of Winter's Touch still fixed firmly on his head. His sword was still sheathed, but Regis knew he didn't need it. As soon as he'd been revealed Regis had felt the pressure emanating from him. Somehow Valentine had been revived by Arama, or whoever his mysterious master was. And without Sparrow's assistance Regis wasn't certain whether he'd be able to triumph over him. Especially not without his sword. Well, this explained the look of fear on Sparrow's sleeping face.

Magpie raised an eyebrow. "This is my prize?"

Arama nodded. "All of him will be yours. From his form to his soul."

Magpie's face flickered momentarily with an expression of glee. "Hmm, well I suppose it's good enough." He didn't like how this person apparently knew his true nature, but Magpie would take care of that later. If he thought offering a black soul to Magpie would keep the demon from coveting his own, well he'd be educated on his mistake. Later. First he had to win at whatever this game would be and take out the brat next to him at the earliest opportunity. His soul was interesting and a little disorienting. Black but with a core of pure white, meaning he'd done something horrendous but was still good at heart. When fully corrupted they were the most delectable souls, but as it was it would be like biting into a pastry and finding that someone had used excrement as filling.

Regis didn't know why Arama thought this man would take Valentine as a prize, but that wasn't worth worrying about. He needed to know the game first to know if he'd need to take down this Nicholas or try working together. "Name the game, Arama," he said. "The sooner Sparrow and I leave, the better."

Arama smiled. "Of course, Jenks. The game is simple. In this mansion you must slay Valentine before he kills you. Starting now."

He and Sparrow shot up towards the ceiling as if on tethers. Regis forced his attention on Valentine and dove to the side as the psychic's blade thrust towards him from the opposite end of the room and released a telekinetic burst that wiped out the remaining foodstuffs on the table.

Regis wiped potatoes from his face and ran for the door, following swiftly after Magpie. That had not been the same level of power he'd faced from Valentine in their first encounter. Trying to take him on from the front would be suicide.

He avoided the puddles on the floor and sprinted for the stairs as the door flew past him and out the window. He took the steps three at a time and felt them shudder as the bottom half of the stairs were wiped out.

When Regis reached the top he didn't see Magpie anywhere. He hoped he wouldn't be stupid enough to attack him after seeing the displays of power Valentine was putting out. They'd need to work together, no way around it.

Regis looked down over the banister and sharply drew back as they exploded where his face had been. He ran down the left hallway, trying to think of a way to get behind Valentine. If he could land one good hit with the spear even Valentine would fall.

As he passed an open doorway a hand snaked out and grabbed Regis's collar before yanking him in.

Magpie held the tiny kid by the scruff of the neck and raised him to look eye-to-eye. "You seem like someone well-informed about that...thing. Mind giving me a few answers?"

Regis contemplated shoving the spear into Magpie's foot but then remembered he needed his help. "Set me down first and I'll tell you what I know."

Magpie dropped him unceremoniously. Regis dusted himself off and peered out the doorway but saw nothing. "That is someone called Valentine. He's a person of immense power, capable of fighting using only his mind. Sparrow called him psychic."

Magpie investigated the room they were in. A sewing room from the looks of things. He stowed a few long needles in his belt, just in case. "Sparrow's the girl in the cage isn't she? So if you have experience with the guy, why are you running?"

Regis tapped his spear. "Last time I faced him with my blade and Sparrow aiding me. Her power is greater than Valentine's, but she's terrified of him and needed someone to back her up before she could use that power. He's also far stronger now somehow, despite the last time I faced him down he ended up having his mind erased by that crown on his head."

Magpie scowled. "So you don't think you can beat him again?"

"Not without help," said Regis. "And I think that goes for you as well. When I fought him his power was focused on close combat. Now he's able to strike from long distances. Unless you think you can get behind him in an instant then there's no chance of hitting him."

"Get behind him huh?" said Magpie. "I could do that if we weren't inside. Buildings screw up with that ability." This wasn't entirely a lie, considering this particular structure was messing him up with its iron.

Regis looked out the doorway again. "So we'll need to lure him outside and somehow weather his attacks."

Magpie raised his hands. "There is no possible way I could do that. You're the warrior from the looks of things. I'm just a lawyer."

"I have no idea what that is," said Regis. "But fine. If you can get in a killing blow then I'll distract Valentine for as long as I can once outside. Are you certain your skills are up to the task?"

Magpie smiled, which didn't exactly put Regis at ease. Something about the man seemed off. "Leave it to me."

The mansion shook and Regis looked out the doorway to see a wall of dust rushing towards them. "Time to go then." He ran the opposite direction, with Magpie following close behind. They turned in opposite directions at the next intersection and the dust smashed out the wall, revealing the stormy weather outside. An instant later Valentine was crouched between the two of them.

Before either could react his power lashed out and threw them away from him. He stood up and locked onto Regis before dashing after his airborne foe.

Regis thrust the butt of his spear at the wall and threw himself away from Valentine's thrust. Now that he'd gotten a good look at the psychic, he felt strange. He would have thought that Valentine would be showing the kind of rage he'd displayed against Regis in their first bout, but instead there was nothing. His face was devoid of emotion, as were his eyes. He was attacking with mighty blows, but there was no heart or soul in them. He was just a puppet.

A very dangerous puppet though. Regis took off as soon as his feet touched the floor and ran back the way he'd come. If he could get Valentine outside then hopefully Nicholas would take him down.

Regis saw movement from the corner of his eye and ducked the scything blade as it cleaved through several walls at neck-level. He lashed out blindly with the spear behind him and felt it catch briefly on something. He didn't stay to find out what he'd hit and started running again.

He hadn't gone five feet when it felt as though he'd been punched in the entire back with the biggest fist ever. The force catapulted him down the hall and against the opposite wall with a loud thud. He had enough presence of mind when he saw Valentine drawing his sword in for another thrust to roll out of the way as another wave of invisible pressure smashed through the wall and into the storm.

Regis didn't stick around for Valentine to catch up. He jumped out onto the roof and quickly made for the edge, trying not to slip on the treacherous terrain. He looked at the ground below and saw it was stone. Slippery, but not as much a problem as mud would be. He felt the roof quake and quickly slipped over the edge.

A shape sailed over him and Valentine landed on the wet ground perfectly, blade in hand and drawn back for a swing. Regis tried to move out of the way only for his feet to slip. As he fell he angled the spear to try and deflect the swing.

The haft of the spear shattered under the force of the swing and Regis felt the tip of the sword slice into his chest, spared from a deeper cut only by his fall. The two pieces transformed back to the ink arrow, now broken in two.

Valentine stood over the fallen hero and raised his sword for one final blow.

Several needles blossomed from the psychic's chest. He swiftly whirled around and swung his sword but Magpie had already teleported behind him again. He plucked out one of the needles and rammed it in again.

This time the puppet stumbled and fell to one knee. A swift burst of pressure hurled both Regis and Magpie away. Both of them splashed into a giant puddle as the puppet regained its footing. But now its movements were slower and some kind of ichor ran freely from its wounds.

Magpie sniffed at Valentine. "Pathetic. Without its master this puppet is nothing."

"What do you mean by master?" said Regis, examining his wound.

"This thing has signs of possession. From what you said, when you fought it for the first time you wiped out its mind. So it became an ideal home for any number of nasty things, one of which is currently not home at the moment." Magpie regarded the blank-eyed Valentine. "Or maybe it was just waiting. Shit."

Valentine shivered and the Crown glowed with ethereal wisps of light. The water on the ground turned to ice as a freezing aura emanated from the psychic. He closed his eyes and opened them again, the light-blue transformed into a chilling hue as a cruel smile etched itself on his face. "Marvelous," said a female voice from Valentine's mouth. "To have survived this long you are indeed the one who slew my rival of Summer, little knight. You also allowed me to own this exquisite new form. My thanks."

Regis figured out who this being was. "The Summer Queen. Meaning you are the Winter Queen."

Valentine smiled again. "Indeed. Ordinarily I would grant you a boon for your service to Winter, but I have previous obligations to try and slay you. A pity, you wear my colors well. If you were to serve me as my Knight though, then perhaps I would be able to negotiate your safety from my master."

Regis responded with a very rude hand gesture he'd picked up from Sparrow. "How about instead I cut your head off like I did your rival?"

Magpie grimaced. "Are you deliberately antagonizing a Faerie Queen? You are aren't you. Uh miss, don't suppose you'd be willing to take me instead?"

Valentine fixed Magpie with a cool gaze. "I don't deal with your kind. Too treacherous for your own good."

"Pot meet kettle," said Magpie.

Valentine scowled. "Well, it appears as though negotiations have failed. I don't have any reason to hold back on you two then. I'll try not to enjoy your suffering too much though."

Ice coalesced around Valentine's form, layering itself into armor that no mere sewing needles would be able to penetrate. Icicles rose from the ground and molded into crystalline creatures with sharp claws. And the rain itself began to pepper the ground with tiny spears of frost as the Queen's aura spread out.

Magpie grabbed Regis's wrist and spun him around. "Okay, you managed to piss her off. Now  are you going to use that holy weapon or are you going to let us both die here?"

"Holy weapon?" said Regis, confused. "My only weapon was destroyed just now."

Magpie spun Regis around and smacked the satchel. "The one in here! Come on it's now or never and I really don't feel like losing to this bitch."

Regis opened the satchel and reached in. His fingers closed around rough leather and he pulled out the hilt and shattered blade of the sword he'd used to slay the Ruler of Heaven. "This? It's not a holy weapon."

Magpie hissed as he became extremely agitated. "Well now it's not! Bloody hell kid what did you do to this thing? If it had its blade we might stand a chance but you seem to have practiced slaying rocks with this!"

Its blade. Regis looked at the Queen of Winter/Valentine and eyed her sword. It had looked familiar when slashing at him, and now with the light given off from her magic he could see it clearly. That frozen bitch was using his sword!

Regis's blood boiled, but now he knew he had a chance at this hopeless fight. "Alright, then get me her sword."

Magpie whirled on him with his right eye twitching. "Get you her sword? Are you crazy? I'm going to try running and hope she focuses entirely on you!"

Regis stared down the lawyer. "She'll find you, you know she will. You want this weapon repaired? Then grab her sword and give it to me. You can do that much can't you?"

A thousand thoughts ran through Magpie's head. Leave this kid to die and hightail it out of here? No, he knew just how vengeful Faeries could be from the tales of his mortal life. He lived in Great Britain for adversary's sake, they were not easily escaped. Not even for him. He could try attacking the kid while he was defenseless and hope to gain the Queen's favor, but even that was a slim chance. He didn't even like fighting and now he was being forced to if he didn't want to spend the next few decades drudging up a new body!

"Fine!" snapped Magpie. "But you better deliver on your end kid or so help me Go--rt." He vanished.

The first of the ice creatures rushed at Regis and he took off, trying to kite them in a circle without slipping.

The Queen frowned at the disappearance of Magpie. Typical of a demon to run away rather than stand and fight. She'd have to hunt him down later.

A moment later a large chunk of flagstone smashed against her head. While it didn't penetrate the ice armor, the look on her face was worth it to Magpie as he teleported to her wrist and smacked the sword out of her hand. As it fell it transformed into a small ink blade. Magpie grabbed it and vanished again as a torrent of ice struck where he'd been.

He reappeared next to Regis and forced the ink construct into his hand. "There, now I'm gone until you take her down. Toodles!" And he was gone.

Regis took hold of the hilt as best he could. It was much bigger than anything he could feasibly wield in this form, but maybe an application of the ink construct would reshape the hilt  enough to hold it? Only one way to find out, he pressed the construct at the base of the broken blade and imagined it merging with the sword.

White flame erupted from the sword and curled around Regis. Where it touched the ice creatures they shuddered and fell motionless, exorcised of the Queen's magic. He held up the sword and marveled at it, as well as something else.

It had been the power of the dying Ruler that had turned him into a child. When he'd shattered  the god's weapon and body his own blade had been drenched in the divine blood of that power. In its shattered state it lay dormant. But when made whole again by the construct that had been imbued with the meaning of Power...

Regis stood as he once was, clad in shining armor with the strength of a Hero coursing through him. He stepped forward and swung the whole sword in a brilliant arc, cleaving through the remainder of the ice creatures in an instant. As the power was expended his form flickered, showing his child self for just a moment.

The Queen wasted no time in trying to kill him. She combined the psychic power of Riley Valentine with her own magic to form a blade of free-floating ice shards that struck at Regis in a fierce blow.

Regis parried the strike and leaned in with a lightning thrust, the white flame lunging forward like a curved spear as his kid form flickered into view once more. The Queen threw out her hand and it exploded against the psychic barrier she projected. She attempted to hurl Regis away with another burst of will, but he stabbed his sword into the ground and hung on until the wave passed.

She gathered the ice to her in a giant ball of razor edges and hurled it at Regis. He gripped his sword with both hands and stepped forward as he slashed overhead, the white flame trailing off the blade in a long arc that consumed the ice. Without waiting for her next move, Regis took another step and turned.

The Queen saw what was coming and threw as much power as she could into a telekinetic blade to meet Regis's. He completed his turn and brought the blazing sword in a wide, smashing arc. And then he vanished.

The Queen stood still in surprise and noticed the movement below her too late. Regis, having reverted to child form, leaped up and impaled the over-large sword into the Queen's heart, shoving it from the bottom of the hilt.

She gurgled on unknown words as white flame broke her power, consuming her form in seconds and leaving only the scorched golden crown behind. The sword clattered to the ground and broke apart back into the ink construct and broken hilt.

Regis knelt to pick up the hilt and it blazed white for just a moment before shattering into pieces. He thought for a moment and then collected the pieces into his satchel. He had a feeling the divine power had been completely used up, but this was still his sword. Maybe it could be reforged someday.

With the death of the Winter Queen, the storm ceased and dissipated to reveal a full moon illuminating the ground beneath. Regis picked up the ink construct and turned back towards the mansion. He wasn't done just yet.

"Well, so she's dead then?"

Regis looked at Magpie and gestured to the crown. "Or trapped in there. Who knows."

Magpie picked up the crown and examined it. "Opposite actually. That bloke's soul is in here. Guess she was hiding in the crown at first then switched places. Clever." He tried to smash the crown open and received a bruised palm for his trouble. He tried again for the same result. "Bloody piece of trash, don't you dare deny me my prize!"

"His soul? So, you're a demon then?"

Magpie eyed Regis carefully. "That matter to you?"

He shrugged. "Least your type is upfront about the trickery bit. No, I don't have a problem with you."

Magpie resumed trying to bust the crown. "Alright then. Not like you'd have any room to criticize, what with the blood that made your sword holy in the first place. How you got something like that is beyond me."

Regis didn't miss a beat. "I slew the Ruler of Heaven and cleaved my entire world in two with the blow, obliterating it and the afterlife and earning my cursed form."

Magpie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and awe. He fidgeted around for a little bit with his crown and said, "Er, uh, so I suppose I'll just...be off then. Away from you."

"Probably the best," agreed Regis.

Magpie vanished and Regis could swear that he heard a fading, "Bloody hell kid..."

Regis turned back to the mansion and walked to the front doors. He pushed them open and made his way to the dining hall.

It was completely empty. The candles were lit and the destruction remained but both Sparrow and Arama were nowhere to be seen.

Regis stalked towards the far end of the room, where the curtain hung and concealed the other half. He gripped the velvet fabric and yanked down, tearing it from its place.

Behind the curtain was a single page with the words, "Let it be finished," written on it. Regis stepped on it as he'd seen Arama do in the desert and the power within the page curled around him and he vanished. Wherever this next place was, it would be the end of the line for Arama.