Mask of Humanity

Nicolai’s Seed’s strain was increasing, and he knew it was nearing its limit. Perhaps this is unwise? But he wanted to know what was up the crack, and now was a good time to check.

He floated up and into the crack. He found the stone around him close, pressing, a vertical climb before him. He pulled his poncho out of his way, dug his feet and hands into the stone around him then deactivated the ring, gravity pulling on him once more, but he set himself, pushing on either side of the crack, and began climbing. It narrowed further as he went, until he worried he might not fit, but after a little squeezing he saw light above and his Seed’s tendrils spread around above, feeling for any danger and finding none, then he followed, squirming out of the crack.

Nicolai found himself in a hallway, lit by one of the ever-present torches. One side was blocked, a pile of rubble. The other side held a doorway, open. He went inside and found a small room with nothing inside of it except another torch, and nowhere else to go. The torch seemed to have taken a hit at some point, leaning slightly, its light fizzing and sparking now and then.

Some might have thought the room a useless, pointless dead end, but Nicolai was smiling as he looked around. This was useful. It was a sneaky little hide-away, impossible to reach for anyone who couldn’t also fly. He could see many uses for such a place, though he was uncertain about whether it would make a safe night-time hide. Could the things in the dark fly, or climb up the walls? He didn’t know. Best not to test it unless necessary.

Nicolai descended back down the crack and returned to the ground. He left the undead up there with their heads in place. He could now deal with them easily, and as such they were useful guards, better left to resurrect in the morning than killed. He skirted around the big skeleton to the door, unlocked it, then started back.

After returning to the group he told them he would distract the skeleton, leading it to the side of the entrance, then they should run out, go to the other side and quickly to the exit. He warned them that the skeleton might start throwing projectiles at them, spears and axes and such, so they should stay behind the columns until reaching the far side, and keep eyes on it if possible. There was a buzz of unease and upset over this, which Nicolai left John to handle. Not my problem.

The big man did a good job, calming them and impressing upon them that this was the only way. In Nicolai’s view, they didn’t realise how lucky they were. A good, safe place to hide out wasn’t easy to find in the castle, not from what he’d seen. One or two of them might die, but it’d be worth it for the rest.

Heading back in, he fully unzipped and deactivated his poncho, then called out to the skeleton. It turned to face him immediately and began trundling over. He simply sheltered behind the column as it drew close, feeling the ground shake in response to its movements, seeing thrown weapons glance off the column before him.

Then it arrived.

‘Go, go!’ he yelled out to the tunnel, meanwhile he dashed sideways as skeletal limbs extended, waving swords and poking with spears at him. Nicolai dodged and weaved, and those that came close he knocked aside with his shield. Each time he did so his shield rang and his arm ached. The skeleton had some serious power in its blows, driving him back. On the other side of it, he saw the group streaming by behind the columns on the far side. The skeleton twitched, and it began to hurl weapons at them. He heard yells and shouts, saw them stumbling and struggling.

Could I rush forward to draw its attention more fully onto me? Of course he could. But he wasn’t going to. It was too much of a risk, too high a chance of being bogged down by endless attacks and killed.

They would simply have to do their best to survive. If some of them died, that was on them. Nicolai had done his part.

To their credit, they made it on towards the other tunnel. The skeleton wasn’t happy about this, turning away from Nicolai, giving up on him to chase after them, throwing spears and other weapons.

They all yelled and ran and ducked and dodged, and they did a surprisingly good job of surviving, getting into the tunnel. Just as the group disappeared into the door, a flung spear caught the last in line, and Nicolai saw them tumble, then the others dragged him the rest of the way through.

They’d made it. Mostly.

Nicolai zipped up his poncho, activated it and padded after them. The skeleton turned around and stomped about, confused and angry, searching for him in vain.

He slid through the open doorway, deactivated his poncho and locked the door, then glanced to the others. They were clustered around the dying man. He’d done it, he’d gotten them through, and with only one dead. That wasn’t exactly a problem, in his eyes. He supposed it was a “bad thing,” but the less of them there were, the less danger the group represented in the event things soured and they turned on him. John left the others to approach him.

‘Do you have anything that can help him in here? Any Rejuvenating Orbs?’

‘No,’ said Nicolai simply.

‘No point, he’s dead,’ came a voice, and one of them stepped out towards him, the man who’d returned Nicolai’s rapier, Karl. He looked angry, stepping right towards Nicolai, aggressive.

Nicolai quickly unzipped his poncho and put a hand to one of his knives, ready to meet the man’s attack. Karl stopped, his bionic scanning Nicolai, brow creasing as he recognised the danger signs.

‘He’s dead because of you,’ said Karl in a snarl, pointing a finger at Nicolai. ‘You used Perro’s Orb.’

Nicolai raised his eyebrows at that, and saw the rest of them looking at him with equally frowny, accusatory faces. He wanted to say: people die. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Instead he made a tight-lipped sad-face of his own and sighed, did his best to look like he also felt grief. ‘It’s tough out here,’ he managed, unable to find the energy summon any better words because he simply didn’t care.

Karl snorted then spat at his feet before turning away. A chuckle bubbled up inside of Nicolai and he grit his teeth and coughed, managing to hide it.

‘Is there anywhere we can lay him to rest?’ John asked him.

Nicolai chewed at his lip, pretending uncertainty. ‘There’s a crypt, but it stinks. When I first spawned here, there were two guys who murdered everyone that came after them, one by one. I had to kill them and now the place is packed with decaying corpses. Still, it’s probably the best place for him.’ He lowered his voice a notch. ‘Maybe give him his rites and say some words first, then you and me take his body over there. People are unlikely to consider it a fitting resting place if they see it.’

‘These two guys killed everyone, you say?’ John asked, the wariness in his eyes back as strong as ever.

‘That’s right,’ Nicolai said, face blank. He found himself wanting to laugh again, amused that John was pressing him on this when for once he wasn’t lying.

John stared him in the eyes, emanating an expectant silence, waiting for more. The silence turned into something that most would find faintly awkward, that would press them to speak up and volunteer a bit more.

Nicolai stared right back with a demeanour that said I know what you’re doing and it is not going to work. John’s eyes narrowed. The stare between them developed a faint intensity, a competition. This was a competition that John was never going to win, because when it came to things like this Nicolai was happy to stand there all day long.

John looked away first. He scratched at his chin, acting as though he hadn’t actually been taking part in the competition and indeed, as though did not know that there had ever been such a thing.

‘Okay,’ said John, turning and heading over to the others.

Nicolai watched him go with some satisfaction.

After the man had said his part and they’d done the whole miserable boring thing of last rites and sad faces, Nicolai approached. But John waved off his offer to help, instead recruiting the woman with the bionic arm to help him carry the body. The pair of them followed after Nicolai as he led them to the crypt.

‘What’s your name?’ Nicolai asked her, tired of thinking of her as bionic-arm-woman.

‘Cait,’ she grunted.

Cait and John wrinkled their noses and cast disgusted glances (for some indecipherable reason) at Nicolai when they reached the crypt. He watched as they opened one of the sarcophagi and dumped the body, then he turned a thoughtful gaze to the sarcophagi as a whole. People were unlikely to want to come to this place, nor spend any time here. He had amassed quite a collection of valuables which he’d rather not leave out for these people to peruse whenever he was gone. The stone boxes in the stinking room struck him as decent places to hide things.

The pair trailed him as he left, following as he moved to stand before the group, who had wandered over to stare at the big throne chair and the piles of bones.

‘Well, here we are,’ said Nicolai, studying them for any signs of aggression, for hints of a planned attack. He only saw tiredness and relief and… grief, perhaps—he wasn’t sure—in their faces and body language. ‘Follow me,’ he added.

He led them up the spiral staircase, and found himself feeling oddly awkward and uncertain, a cross between how an owner of a new home might feel showing it off to their friends, as well as how someone might feel when gaining a new roommate. Will they be good roommates? Hard to say. Very hard.

Entering the little complex of rooms he moved around with customary wariness, his Seed’s tendrils spreading and investigating every room while he took the time to move through and check each with his eyes. When he returned, the group was gathered awkwardly at the top of the stairs, peering around.

‘That room is mine,’ said Nicolai, pointing at his door. ‘The others are all empty.’ He shrugged, not sure what else to say. ‘Pick a room.’

The torches were dull orange. Night would come soon. Nicolai was glad for that, because he needed a break, some time to be alone and think, to consider what had happened. As they slowly moved off and peered into rooms, a mutter of conversation erupting as people discussed and decided, he moved through them back to the big main door, locked it with his key then stuffed the rags against the wall into the cracks, before finally dragging over the bedframe he left next to the door and placing it in front, his method of dampening noise as much as possible.

As they were beginning to look around inside the rooms, he entered his own, closed the door behind him and removed Kleos from the jar.

He stared at the head silently as the fluid drained from its neck. Kleos stared back at him. While Nicolai waited for the fluid to drain, half of his focus was on the tendrils of soul sense that passed through the door and attached to the people beyond, keeping track of them. None of them were doing anything unexpected.

‘We have… guests,’ said Nicolai.

‘Oh?’

‘Others of my race. I decided to let them stay with me.’

Kleos frowned at him. ‘That’s… unusual of you. You intend to have them remove the band?’

Nicolai quirked a smile. ‘That’s right. May I introduce you?’

‘Sure.’

Nicolai exited, Kleos in his hands, closing the door behind him again. He called out. ‘Hey! There’s someone you all need to meet.’

Curious faces popped out of the surrounding rooms, then John emerged, staring at the head Nicolai held.

Nicolai waited until more had gathered, and then held Kleos out. ‘This is Kleos. He is a friend of mine.’

They stared at the head. Kleos didn’t speak. The silence stretched. Nicolai rotated Kleos’ head and frowned at what he saw. Kleos’ head was frozen in a slumped, dead expression, as though he were truly dead, eyes staring off at angles. The group were giving Nicolai some very strange and concerned looks, exchanging glances.

‘Uh.’ John cleared his throat. ‘Good to meet you… Kleos.’

Kleos remained mute and unmoving. Nicolai jiggled the head up and down, confused. ‘Kleos?’ he asked. ‘He normally speaks,’ he assured them all, and knew that he sounded completely insane. He smiled reassuringly then moved his mouth by Kleos’ ear. ‘What are you doing?’ he hissed. There was no response. A dark, dull, ominous feeling began to seep through him. It can’t be…

‘Nice to meet you, Kleos,’ came a muted chorus. He saw them smirking and raising eyebrows.

What the fuck! ‘Kleos,’ he snarled.

‘Hi!’ They all flinched, eyes widening, and the head jerked slightly in Nicolai’s grip. He stared at it, and saw Kleos’ slack visage had transformed into a huge, smug grin. ‘Glad to meet you, too, humans.’

A wave of relief rolled through Nicolai. He hadn’t completely lost his mind, not yet. Kleos was a talking head, for real. The evil bastard had just been playing a joke on him, which was something of a shock. Kleos’ eyes found Nicolai’s and winked, then the head let out a nasty little chuckle, pleased with itself.

Nicolai grinned back at it, thinking, you little shit, but he found himself laughing, too relieved to be angry. Then he faced them all, realising there was something he needed to explain. He curved his mouth into a friendly smile as he spoke.

‘If anyone harms Kleos, I will kill them.’