NOVEL WEB Chapter 8: Interlude 3: The Fool
"Honourable Mr. Fool, I attended Mr. A's Beyonder gathering tonight," The red star signifying Miss Magician pulsed as she reported the bounty set up by Mr. A at the Beyonder Gathering she attended.
She diligently reported how the Aurora Order was aware of The Fool's Honorific Name, and how they placed a bounty on His believers. Their was also a mention of a hidden existence that they're looking into:
The Summoner.
The prayer didn't receive an instant response.
Only the endless roiling of gray clouds surrounding a long mottled table could be seen in a space beyond the mortal world, and above the Spirit World.
Seated atop a high-backed chair with the image of a Pupil-less Eye and the Contorted Lines behind it was a humanoid figure, a man, wrapped in the same grey fog surrounding the ancient palace above the grey fog.
This was The Fool. The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog, and the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.
Anyone who looked at Him could not help but feel the presence of something vast, unfathomable, and mysterious.
And yet… the figure did not sit as a god or tyrant might.
He rested His cheek lazily against His gloved fist, elbow planted on His chair. The very image of leisure, indifferent and seemingly bored.
However, such a notion would be shattered the moment someone heard The Fool's inner voice.
Report Mr. A immediately!
How could a weak Sequence 7 like him fight an entire organisation like Aurora Order?
With Miss Magician' help, he could find the gathering location, and then do his civic duty by reporting to the Official Beyonder's: the Nighthawks, Mandated Punisher, or the Machinery Hivemind.
Given Mr. A's status as an Oracle, he's bound to earn significant attention from the three main churches of Backlund.
The Fool's finger drummed on the table for a while, before he shook his head as an amused chuckle left his lips.
Reporting was unnecessary.
Not only would implicate Miss Magician and the other innocent Beyonder's, given Aurora Order's extreme and depraved, unhinged behaviour.
Secondly, who said The Fool had believers?
The Tarot Club?
They were merely participants in a gathering that mutually benefited everyone. It wasn't worship, not truly. At least, not yet.
"The only believer of The Fool is Me, Myself, and I."
In other words, the Aurora Order hit a dead end before their search even began. The only related and possible clue to him would be his anonymous bank account that used his Honorific Name as a password.
In hindsight, it was foolish, but that didn't mean he had been careless.
Tracing the account back to Sherlock Moriarty, his current identity in Backlund, was anything but simple.
He had employed every method available to his financial level. From Beyonder means like anti-divination, to ordinary means like adjusting his gait, posture, and accent.
As far as the bank was concerned, he was just another faceless fog among many.
Just then, an intrusive thought slipped into his mind.
"Having now worshippers…isn't something to be proud about." He smiled wryly beneath the grey fog, as he made note to still be cautious on the off chance that a miracle happens leading Aurora Order to him.
The grey fog coiled gently as he sat upright, one leg crossed over the other, his back now straight, shoulders dignified, yet still relaxed.
Then, he finally answered.
His voice descended over the star marking Miss Magician's prayer:
"Don't worry about it."
After those words, The Fool shifted his attention to the piece of paper Miss Magician sacrificed to him.
The Summoner of Myriad Realms;
The Shepherd of All Creatures, The Keeper of True Names, The Anchor of Worlds;
The One who Summons through Eternity."
For a moment, he wondered if it was a fellow countryman who only transmigrated after him, and just like him decided to play god.
It shouldn't be…Unlike The Fool's Honorific Name, The Summoner's domains are clear: Shepherd of Creatures, True Names, Anchoring, and Summoning. The Fool analysed.
Shepherd reminds me of the True Creator…could this be an aspect of him? The Aurora Order did call Him a special existence…Perhaps the Secret Supplicant pathway can summon grazed souls at the demigod level, but it shouldn't have any connection to True Names or Anchoring.
What about the Myriad Realms? And Anchor of Worlds? Does it mean the Spirit World, Astral World, and Underworld?
"Or maybe it's like D&D, summoning from other planes…" The Fool mused, feeling a bout of nostalgia as he answered Miss Magician's question about who The Summoner is.
"The Summoner…"
The Fool let the name roll off his tongue slowly. He deliberately adjusted the tone, volume, and depth of his voice so that it oozed nostalgia, as though He had recalled something from a distant past.
He paused for a moment, giving time for Miss Magician to take the bait, then continued.
"It's only a matter of time now… before everyone remembers The Summoner again."
He made sure the certainty in his voice was clear. After all, even the True Creator wasn't so crazy as to make up a whole being and their Honorific Name, was he?
And announcing it now of all times meant that The Summoner is awakening or returning, just like The Fool.
Heh. I wonder what the Tarot Club would think if they knew that The Fool believed in the True Creator's revelation. The transmigrator lampooned as he leaned back into his seat, feeling pleased.
Once more, The Fool's persona has been mystified and elevated.
From his previous tone and words, a lot of detail and assumptions could be made.
Who was The Summoner… to The Fool?
Was he an enemy?
An ancient ally?
A rival?
…Or something more complicated?
The Fool's tone hadn't held hostility. No, it was far from that.
If anything, there was a faint… longing. Like a friend recalling a comrade lost to time.
The Aurora Order had described The Summoner as "a special existence." Not a pagan or false god.
And yet, they followed the will of the True Creator—The Fool's enemy.
So then… what was The Summoner's position?
Why did The Fool speak of him in such a way?
Why did He sound like He missed him?
Those were the questions that would naturally arise if—when—Miss Fors shared this with the Tarot Club.
And that was exactly what he, the Divine Pretender, wanted.
Mystery is power.
Unfathomability is protection.
Humans make their own assumptions. They see what they wish to see. Hear what they hope to hear. Wrap uncertainty in meaning to soothe the ache of the unknown.
And that, precisely, was the divine mask The Fool wore so well. All He had to do was exist in the right way, leave silences in the right places, and speak cryptically when needed, and then let the human mind do the rest.
The red star of Miss Magician once again pulsed, and Mr. Fool listened to the message carefully.
"Honourable Mr. Fool, I met Lawrence Abraham again. He passed away and left behind his Beyonder Characteristic and Book, which he told me to take to his relative at Pritz Harbour…"
The Mysterious Ruler nodded in understanding at her plight. Even The Fool would be tempted to pocket such wealth—cough!
What he meant was that he understood her concern about the possible dangers she might encounter, so he didn't mind tossing her a paper angel—a method of Anti-Divination that utilized the mysterious space above the gray fog and a Card of Blasphemy to interfere with fate.
He also divined the possibility of danger awaiting Miss Magician and found the results… satisfactory. Well within the acceptable range.
It wouldn't do for a Tarot Club member to die under my watch, he mused. Especially not so soon after joining. It would completely ruin The Fool's credibility if he couldn't even handle a low or mid-sequence Beyonder.
With all that sorted, Mr. Penny Pincher gave a dignified response—one brimming with divine majesty—as he addressed Miss Fors:
"Follow the true desires in your heart."
Seconds later, her reply came.
"I understand. Thank you, Mr. Fool."
You're welcome, Miss Magician. Now hurry up and take this Sheriff Characteristic off my hands—the great Fool is in urgent need of cash, he lampooned internally, quickly checking the red star again.
"Mr. Fool, I'm ready to trade for the Sheriff Characteristic…"
His lips curled upwards at her words, and without delay, he initiated the sacrificial and bestowal ritual, promptly sending down the Characteristic and collecting the 600 pounds.
"Thank you, Mr. Fool."
The Fool paid little attention to her gratitude. Instead, he immediately began counting the money.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Indeed, it's 600 pounds." He nodded a satisfied smile spreading beneath the grey fog.
That brought his total up to 1,230 pounds—still 300 pounds short of the minimum price for a single Sequence 6 Beyonder ingredient.
Where could a man make money these days?
The Fool sighed inwardly.
Truly, the poorest god ever.
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A/N: Surprise~ No one expected this one, huh? A chapter in 8 hours? All I can say is that I got a good position this night shift, and since it was Mr. Fool I was writing about, the motivation was strong.