Demonic Magician

54 - Brain Waves



There’s a marked changed in my notes from the... horse incident onwards. Whether it was due to the brain injury, the near-death experience, or part of my apparent soul merge, I wasn’t sure. I still felt like myself and acted like myself. Well, that was the crux of it - some of my actions were slightly skewed. One half charming showman, the other ruthless combatant - the resulting mix was a boon to both sides. As if my very being had been hit with a Power Token. Max+.

Ren sighed. “You can’t torture information out of him.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, unsure if she meant morally or because he couldn’t speak. Probably the latter. Not that I particularly wanted to torture him and get bad information in the process. There was a part of me who wasn’t sure if he had suffered enough yet. Not that I knew his crimes, but they couldn't be much better than the gang who had destroyed the outpost. Complicit, at the least. An eye for an eye left me with a smaller audience, however.

Hadrian continued to glare at us with the impassive yellow eyes that treants were known for. Based on that one encounter. He had remained remarkably still during the night, and I wondered how the System saw him now. Surely not as a Player, otherwise it would translate his speech. Had he somehow become a Monster, but with his memories intact? Not something I wanted an answer to. Maybe it was just a curse that needed lifting.

I turned back to Ren and rubbed my chin. “Do elves have something like ‘good cop, bad cop’?”

She blinked, the System doing the hard work of smoothing over the idiom. “Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll be the bad cop.” I grinned.

“Unfair, that’s kind of my thing.” She pouted and made a show of possibly wanting to argue over it, but relented with a sigh. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Bad cop wasn’t exactly my thing either, but I was feeling off my normal game due to the cracked skull, and it might put off the treant enough to work better. Maybe demon Max could carry the burden for me. Unfair to name him that, when he was me. I withdrew my lit torch, and we walked over.

“Morning, Hadrian. If that is still you in there. Ren here is insisting that we untie your little tree arms. Personally, I'm against that… but if you try anything, then I’ll be illuminating your internal organs.” I waved the torch in front of him and he winced away. “I'm fair, though - I’ll let you decide from which end.”

Ren kneeled down to work on the bindings. “Best behave. He’s been getting gradually more unhinged every day. He’ll listen to me, okay? I won’t let him hurt you if you play nice.”

I watched Hadrian for any kind of reaction, but he remained impassive. If he was a Monster he’d probably attack immediately. One arm came out, and he kept it to himself. Wolf came and sat behind us to watch. I tilted my head over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud, you might have your new chew toy soon.”

Second arm out and he rubbed at his wooden wrists with his little claw hands, but continued to glare. Some part of him must remain.

“You’re doing well,” Ren said to him in a hushed tone beside his head before rejoining me for the interrogation.

“Alright!” I began, louder than necessary to cut him from that comfort. “Now we’ll see how useful you are. Raise your right hand if you understand me.”

After a brief pause, he did.

“Lower it. Now left arm.” The process was repeated, and he understood me. “Right hand is for yes, left is for no. Do you understand?”

His right hand raised with hesitation.

“Just answer honestly,” Ren added, “things will be okay.”

She was selling it too well; I almost believed her. “Let’s start off easy.” I worked my jaw. “Are you still Hadrian?”

Right hand, he was still in there. Part of me paled at that reality, and how close I had come to drinking the stuff in the Dungeon. Would this have been my life? At least I wouldn't have gotten kicked by the horse—I doubted treants had a proper skull to crack. Those thoughts aside for now, I went back to the questions.

“Is this a permanent transfiguration?” Left Hand. “A curse that needs lifting?” Right Hand.

“I have an Antidote I could give him!” Ren offered, being ever so helpful.

Hadrian seemed to perk up at this, wanting to nod if his current physiology allowed it. His right clawed hand rose up eagerly.

“Hand down,” I demanded. “That wasn’t a question. Your honesty may earn you lenience, but I need further questions answered first.”

An outside observer may wonder why we didn’t turn him back into a human first and get the information in its fullest form. Have an actual conversation about it. Well, a magician never revealed his secrets. We kept him desperate.

“First question. Are there any other groups of Crimson Shadows in this area?” Right hand. “There is one by the bridge over the river?” Right hand.

Ren leaned towards him. “Is that the only one left?” Tentative right hand.

That filled enough of the gaps for me to be contented. We had killed just over a dozen of the gang. It’d be hard to imagine there were many more lurking around, given how quiet the woods had been in terms of Players. One last group to prevent people gaining access to the Fields and beyond seemed reasonable.

“Are there more than five members there?” I narrowed my eyes. Right hand. “More than ten?” He paused, raising both hands slightly - unsure. It looked as though Parties were often the maximum of five people. They had three scouting groups causing havoc throughout this first area. Probably a group or two would be at the bridge.

The three of us might have an issue. I wondered how they would respond if I suggested stowing a corpse on Wolf for easy Roger access. I wondered if he enjoyed his mash. Suddenly, I felt very hungry. I'd need to bring him back soon to let him know that I was okay. Would he even be worried? Probably busy making more little Rogers. Why was I so hungry?

My eyes scanned through my Inventory as the other two waited. Just needed something to snack on really—why was so much of it raw meat? I was just about to settle for some plain bread when I scrolled to the consumable bottles.

Into my hand, one of the vials of blood. “This pique your interest, firewood?”

He almost went to leap from his sitting position to grab for it, before a calm hand from the elf kept him seated. I rolled my tongue around in my mouth, wondering how it tasted. Probably worse than my own blood, which I wasn’t too keen on - based on way too much experience to be healthy.

“Addiction is a terrible thing.” I swirled it side to side. It was fair to assume he probably didn’t know how the Lady’s ability worked, or couldn’t explain the nuance of it even if he did. “Perhaps we can cure you of this, as well?”

He shook, and his left hand went up. They seemed reliant on it, or at least desired it more than was reasonable. A knife I could use to twist.

I popped the cork, watching the panicked reaction on his wooden face. Slowly, I started to tip it until the first drop escaped and fell to the uncaring ground.

Hadrian squirmed and shook as though I had plunged the torch into him.

“Wait,” Ren interrupted. “Maybe if he really helps us, then you can give that to him?”

I clucked my tongue and watched her bright blue eyes. It was hidden far below her surface expression, but there was the hint there that she was enjoying this. It was fun; I was enjoying it too. “Well, it’d have to be something very helpful for me to reconsider.” I didn’t tip any more, but I held it at a threatening slant. Maybe it should be worrying we found joy in tormenting someone, but then again, the history between us all...

“You can do that right, Hadrian?” Her eyes searched his yellow orbs. “Do you know where the Lady is going?”

Despite his lust for the liquid I held with such contempt, he wavered before slowly raising his right hand.

“Somewhere in the second area, past the bridge?” Right Hand. “The Mills?” Left Hand. “One of the towns?” Right Hand.

I raised my eyebrow at Wolf as the elf went through all the towns in the second area. Sitting there with his little bowler hat on, he looked quite the character. I gave him an ‘are you okay’ nod, which he answered by rubbing his stomach with a large paw. With a grin, I acknowledged his desires. We had already had breakfast, but there was no law against a second one. Did we already eat? Things were starting to blur, and an ache spread through my head. I was hungry.

“Candlekeep! Perfect, thank you, Hadrian.” Ren didn’t have it in her to fake a smile, but at least her voice sounded happy to have gotten an answer.

With a minute gesture to her, I wanted to see if she had anything to ask - which she declined with the slight shake of her head, reading my intent loud and clear. Being on the same page felt good.

“Alright, Hadrian. I guess you’ve earned this then.” I chucked a bottle to his root-like feet.

Immediately, he dropped to the ground to scrabble for it, his sharp fingers digging through the dirt. He got it in his clutches with some effort and lifted it up into the air to see that it was just an empty container instead. One sad, singular Dazzle icon. A shadow passed over him as Wolf stomped down upon his body and began to tear him to pieces.

“Shame we didn’t have any Antidotes, huh?” I watched the carnage impassively.

“Oh, I did.” Ren shrugged and looked at me. “But I wasn’t about to waste something we might need.”

I nodded and then winced as a sharp pain radiated up the front of my head. My hand held it to make sure I didn’t have a trap door about to open and spill my brain matter about. Fertilize the soil, see what grew from my mind. Probably something remarkably impressive to look at, but structurally flawed and liable to leap beneath the first hoof that came near it. Foot, not hoof. Although...

“You okay? You need to rest.” Ren put her arm around me and walked us away from the sound of Wolf chewing wood into shrapnel.

“Need to sit and maybe eat. Definitely eat, actually. And sit.” Conjured up a chair - my last one. I’d have to steal more. I sat, and she gave me a squeeze on the shoulder before moving away. My eyes held closed, I tried to will away the pain.

“No adventuring until you’re recovered. I know you’re burning up to go get maimed at the bridge, but this is the first time we’ve got the upper hand, right?”

She was right, on all accounts. Her chair moved across the dirt and stopped beside mine. If we had taken out most of the gang here, then they couldn’t afford to try to chase us around. They’d hold the bridge at all costs - if that was truly their plan. That put them in one place that we could assail at our leisure. When I was a little healthier.

I turned my tired head to see her beside me. "You’re a great good cop."

“Thanks. I was impressed by your bad cop routine.” Although her eyes narrowed, there was no tension in her face. “You do the unhinged thing really well.”

“Hardly had to act at all.” I smiled and looked at the sky. Cloudy, but pleasant. I closed my eyes as Wolf padded over to lie down near us. Both the trauma and the merge had left me feeling both not myself, and too much of myself. An odd mix that didn't seem to have settled yet.

I felt Ren’s hand on my arm. “Hey, Max. Take a break from being full-on today, okay? Let me be in charge.”

“My life is in your hands.” Too tired to open my eyes, I tried to tune out most things. She asked the bear to collect wood, specifying clearly that it shouldn’t be wood from Hadrian. The campfire was renewed. The sound of cutting. Pouring water. I fell asleep with a complaining stomach.

I awoke, briefly concerned, sometime later. By my own volition and not at the behest of the elf. My vision blurred as I tried to click everything back into place. Still daytime, so just a nap. There was a smell that was… divine. I leaned forward to see Ren stirring an almost cauldron-sized metal pot hanging over the fire. Wolf was lying on his side against my chair, asleep, like an oversized dog.

“Sometimes it feels like I did die and went to heaven.” I smiled softly at the elf as she turned to me.

“Smells good, huh? My aunt used to have a plot where she’d grow vegetables. In the colder months, we’d hunt rabbits and then make stew.” Her eyes unfocused as she dug around at those memories. “Just a hot meal, a fireplace, and warm blankets, against the unrelenting cold.”

“Sounds like the perfect day.” I furrowed my brow. “I seem to have mixed memories now. Although, only at a certain point do things diverge. Same childhood. The love for magic... also similar. Mother passing, then it gets a bit murky.”

“It’s kind of spooky in a way.” She began ladling some stew into bowls. “Like there must be other versions of me somewhere? Ones where I didn’t come here?”

I grunted. “No point worrying, you’re you and this is your life and existence.”

“I suppose.” She walked over to hand me a bowl before sitting on the chair beside me with her own. “You wouldn’t want to be a different Max, in a different time? Somewhere less dangerous?”

My tired eyes looked at the raised spoon, and I blew the steam away and cooled it. Put the chunks of cooked vegetables in my mouth. Heavenly.

Glancing at her bright blue eyes eager for my response, I shook my head with a smile. I didn't know whether it was the comforting food, or something about the way she was looking at me, but the answer was a clear page in my otherwise clouded mind.

“I’m right where I want to be.”


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