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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 2: Chapter 3

“Finally! I feel as if we’ve been putting this off for weeks!”

This is the farthest Ari’s ever been on the path leading out of Tenel village. The villager that’s usually on guard duty is suspiciously absent. Ari stands on that spot, staring at the path that snakes its way through the forest, meets the bridge crossing the river, and then dissolves into the open fields. He swallows hard, trying to steel himself.

“Wouldn’t you agree, slave?” King Stan prattles on, “I mean, it really feels like we’ve had two or three weeks of solid stalling. So. Much. Wasted. Time.”

Ari rolls his eyes, distracted just for a moment from the yawning unknown laid out before him in the daylight. Placing a hand on the sharpened fruit knife on his belt, he takes a deep breath and begins to walk.

It’s going to be ok, he tells himself, it’s going to be ok. It’s going to be ok. I just have to walk really, really fast. Is that a ticking sound?

Ari pauses and looks around along the ground.

“Just one second, Stan,” says Ari before the evil king can roar at him with impatient rage, “found it!”

The ticking leads him to a small patch of grass where a tiny gear waits. It looks just like the one found behind the Nameless Dwelling and just like that one, it stops ticking the moment Ari touches it.

He hears Stan growling.

“Burning …”

“Alright! Alright! I’m going!” Ari protests as he slips the gear into a pocket where it can join its brother.

The boy can’t help but notice that he’s developing a strange new hobby - gear collecting.

I guess it suits an uncool weirdo like me …

Eventually, Ari finds himself at the bridge. It crosses a small ravine that cuts the border of the field. The river tracing down the middle of it flows with a peaceful ease, not at all reflecting the dangers that lay beyond. The bridge itself seems sturdy and safe. It’s made of thick slabs of pale wood. Nothing about the bridge or the ravine or the river gives Ari the slightest hint of worry.

It’s the grassy expanse on the other side, dotted with trees and bushes and bunches of wild grass and suspicious looking patches of bluish fog, that make his heart race and his skin go grossly clammy.

It’s going to be ok. It’s going to be ok. You have Sta- … you have a fruit knife. That’s something.

In preparation, Ari pulls free the fruit knife and holds it ready. He begins to carefully cross the bridge. The farther he goes and the more things don’t happen, the better he begins to feel. The calming sounds of the water below and birds singing from far off in their trees start to soothe the pounding of his heart. Once he gets to the bridge’s midpoint, he might even dare to call himself relaxed.

See? It’s fine. So far, so good …

As soon as the thought passes through his head, a little white cloud fades into view at the far end of the bridge. It possesses wide, yellow eyes and bobs up and down in that all too familiar, ghostly way.

Of course.

Ari stops and Stanley pops up behind him.

“Oh, here is some low class evil being like the one in the church that I smashed for you.”

“It seems so, Evil King Stan.”

“But slave, you should improve your skills.”

“Improve my … what now?”

“Now, slave, destroy the one there. A true servant of mine should be able to do this easily. Now, go!”

Stan suddenly sinks back down, leaving Ari awkwardly and pathetically alone with nothing but a fruit knife.

Ok … ok … ok ok ok. It’s just one ghost, right? I have the fruit knife and … and maybe I can figure out the whole overdrive thing.

“O-o-verdri-”

Before Ari can say the word, a bone-chilling ‘boo’ pipes up from behind him. He turns to see a red ghost coming up from behind, growling and eying him up like a particularly easy and delicious snack.

Stupidly, Ari brandishes the fruit knife, whipping back and forth between the two ghosts. Even he thinks he looks pathetic as the knife shakes violently in his fear plagued fingers.

“St-Stanley? K-k-k-k-king Stanley … uh …”

Nothing happens. The ghosts continue to approach, forcing Ari into the middle of the most unfortunate sandwich of his life.

“Uh … ok … um, h-hello, guys … girls … um, whatever you are.”

The ghosts say nothing - not even a ‘boo.’

“I’m really sorry. I-I just got a little lost. This is your bridge, isn’t it? It’s a nice bridge. Very sturdy. I’ll just … leave your nice bridge alone so I don’t … um, sully it.”

Unfortunately, neither ghost seems inclined to move aside to let him pass.

Whelp, I guess this is it … not even 5 seconds into the wild and I’m about to be eaten.

He feels the stinky, icy breath of peckish ghost death bearing down upon him, caressing his face and slipping down the back of his neck.

“Wait a minute!”

An angel?

The thought is cliché, but being seconds away from being ghost-food, Ari isn’t expecting to hear female voices from anything on the earthly plane. Quickly following it, there come the heavy sounds of running boots hitting wooden planks. The whole event passes in a blur. A series of swish-swish sounds whirlwind around him and a fast passing body knocks him to the ground.

Dizzily, Ari looks up to find the first ghost fading away into nothing. Looking over his shoulder, he finds a similar fate befalling the second.

“Phew! Recently, there have been so many cruddy ghosts floating around. Are you ok?”

Ari gets up slowly, shaking his head to clear the dizziness. He turns and where there was once a ghost, there now stands a beautiful woman.

He shakes his head a bit more and rubs at his eyes for good measure.

She’s still standing there in a very un-hallucination-like manner, staring at him with increasing concern.

The mysterious woman seems to be in her early twenties. She has a slender, but subtly muscular build. It reminds Ari of a dancer, but cooler. She wears a long military style coat with blue trim, shiny gold fasteners, and epaulets. Heavy, calf high boots explain the footsteps Ari heard earlier. And the thin, wickedly sharp sword in her right hand explains the fate of the ghosts.

“Um … are you ok?”

Her face is gorgeous. She has large yellow brown eyes and a firmly set, heroic countenance. A headband that looks suspiciously like a buckled belt keeps back shoulder length locks of golden honey colored hair. In her non-sword holding hand, she carries a delicate pink parasol, keeping her in a patch of cool looking shade.

“Hello?” she says as she smoothly sheaths her sword.

“Oh! Um … y-yeah. I-I’m ok … thanks to you. That was so coo-”

“Don’t walk around so vulnerable like that! You don’t even have a weapon!”

As if in his own defense, Ari holds up the fruit knife. It takes him just a fraction of a millisecond to realize how stupid the defense is.

“What an optimistic attitude! I can’t believe it! Hold on a sec.”

Before Ari can recover his first impression, she passes by him and crosses the bridge to recover a ridiculously large bag that had been thrown to the grass in her haste. Without dropping the parasol or losing a hint of coolness, she rummages around among the bag’s contents.

“Here we are,” she says, slipping out a sheathed sword.

The mysterious woman runs back up to Ari on the bridge.

“Here, take this!” shes says, shoving the sword into Ari’s hand. “You’ll have much better luck fighting ghosts with this.”

“Um, th-thank you. Are you su-”

“It’s a cheapie, but it’s better than that,” she says, nodding towards the fruit knife. “You know how to use a sword, right?”

“Uh, stab it until it dies?”

Her face looks grim, but still cool. “Good enough, I guess. Just … you know, don’t be a sissy. Got it? Ghosts can smell an easy, fearful meal from a mile away. They’ll be all over you if you don’t toughen up a bit.”

“Right! Thank you! … um, can I have your na-”

“Oh no! It’s already that late! I have to go or he’ll … I gotta go!”

The mysterious woman suddenly takes off running, back from whence she came.

“Good luck, kid!” she calls over her shoulder.

Ari watches until she disappears into the fog and wild grass and trees.

“Damn!”

Ari jumps.

“I didn’t have time to appear! Who was that anyway?!”

“Probably the coolest person I’ve ever met …” he replies wistfully as he looks down at the leftover sword.

Ari returns the fruit knife to its clip and sets to work strapping the sword sheath to his belt.

“You are a pathetic thing, slave. Two lowly beings show up and you cower like a troll!”

“Well, it’s not like I have any powers that will cause things to be consumed by black flames of infinite evil … like somebody I know.”

“On top of that, you were saved by some passing hag!”

“Hag? Are you nuts? She was so cool! Plus, she gave me this!”

With a clumsy flourish, Ari whips out the sword. It’s light enough to be shakily lifted by one arm. The edges seem comfortingly sharp, glinting in the sunlight.

King Stan sighs angrily. “Oh well. Be grateful that my evil hand is merciful to my servants. Seeing how pathetic you are in battle, maybe I’ll render you aid from time to time.”

“Well, that’s good of you … nice knowing my life means so much to you that you may help out.”

“But you must still become stronger! Discipline yourself by making your way to Madril and giving any lower being that crosses your path a good thrashing! We’re going to have issues if you can’t protect yourself. Don’t forget that your shadow houses the great Evil King Stan!”

With that, the great Evil King Stan disappears and Ari’s left alone with nothing but a sword and a ghost infested open field.

Somehow, despite such a disastrous start, Ari doesn’t feel as doomed as he did before. He’s pretty sure it has something to do with the sword clutched in his right hand. Thinking of how cool the mysterious woman was, he slashes the air, enjoying the wind cutting swish noise it makes.

Ok … let’s try this setting out thing one more time.

NOTE: Okage Shadow King is owned by Sony Computer Entertainment and Zener Works. This novelization is purely a fan-work and the writer claims no ownership over the characters, general plot line(s), etc.

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Let me explain ...

So, a bit of life happened ... a lot of life happened. A mixture of good and bad events that totally took up my time and attention for the past 2-ish weeks.

I’m sorry I missed this past Monday

I will be back this upcoming Monday with a new chapter.

#Okage shadow king #Boku to Mao #osk #excuses #stop making excuses

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 2: Chapter 2

The day is calm and peaceful. Ari notices the brilliant blue sky overhead. Little plops of cloud lazily mosey on their way. As he walks, there’s a breeze that escorts him down the path and gently tousles the loose strands of his hair. There comes the sounds of bird chatter and snapping twigs. The sun warms his shoulders and paints the dusty path and the grass and the trees and the rocks all in vibrant, blazing color. Such a perfect day provides an interesting contrast to the panic attack rocking around in Ari’s head.

This is it. I’m actually doing this. Is this happening? Am I supposed to be doing this? No, no, I was never supposed to leave Tenel. Ordinary boy. I. Am. Ordinary. But then, of course, there’s Stan- er, King Stanley High-something Trini-whatever the XIV, and then suddenly, here I am. Taking down ghosts with sticks. Overdrive. Overdrive? Really? Overdrive? What the heck is overdrive? And a stick? Really?! A stick?! I should be dead. I shouldn’t be walking right now. I should be dead in the Church basement! Dead! Dead! Dead!

Ari walks down the path, away from Tenel, away from home - very, very slowly.

What do I do if I run into another ghost? Ha ha. If? Of course I’m going to run into another ghost! I’m going to run into a whole FIELD of ghosts! And then, THEN! I’m going to die.

“Boy, your panic is so loud I can smell it!”

He looks over his shoulder at Stan. “That doesn’t make any sen-”

“Silence! You’re moving so slowly! We’re not even past the circus yet!”

“The circus?” Ari pauses, inspiration putting the panic to rest for a moment.

“We’re still in sight of that wretched to-”

“Let’s go to the Circus!”

“What?!”

“The Cyphertext. Of course, we can’t leave before completing the Cyphertext.”

“Oh no you don’t, slave! We just spent a whole morning wandering around that fly smear of a town! You will NOT stall us any longer!”

“Alright, let’s take another look to be sure,” muses Ari as he fishes the Cyphertext paper out of a rucksack pocket, “ok, ‘sdnuorg eht ot og s’tel ereh si sucric eht.’ Well, it’s obvious that the whole thing is backwards. The circus is here. Let’s go to the grounds. Alright, we’re going to the fields!”

“Slave, I may not be able kill you, but I will set your shoes on fire and I will laugh!”

“Look! The banner! And hey! The tent’s still up! I thought the circus troupe would have moved on by now.”

“Grrr …” Stanley growls.

As Ari strolls up to the giant candy striped tent, he spots a suspicious looking man leaning against one of the tent poles. He casually picks at his fingernails and looks as if he’s waiting to persuade somebody to buy something.

“Uh … hello?” risks Ari.

The suspicious man looks up and as soon as his eyes set on Ari, he seems unimpressed.

“Hmph,” he grunts, “congratulations. You’ve passed.”

“I … oh!”

From some reason, Ari thought it would take just a little bit longer that this.

“From now on, you are a member of the Sermo Comixtus Society, the World Crypto Organization.”

“Um, th-thank you.”

“It’s a great organization. It …” the man pauses to shuffle a card out of his pocket, “… it ‘searches for the world’s secrets through cyphers.’ We are playing … I mean, studying the creation and decoding of cyphers. Now, we give you, the newcomer, the following command.” The man reaches into his pocket and pulls forth another fancy looking envelope. “This cypher indicates a location somewhere in Madril. We heard you’re heading that way, right?”

“Er, yeah … I guess.”

“Decode this one, newcomer. You must live up to the Society’s expectations!”

Without another word, the suspicious man runs away, leaping into the surrounding forest and disappearing amongst the trees.

“Humans are so weird.”

Ari can only nod as he looks on, still able to hear the awkward tromping and thrashing as the suspicious man fights for a mysterious and suave disappearance. But then, as that fades into the distance, another sound makes itself known. It’s familiar and rhythmic and … ticking.

“Stan! Do you hear that?”

“Yes, the idiot just tripped over a log. Now, I think he just ran into a beehive. I hear buzzing.”

“No! Not that! The ticking! Do you hear the ticking?”

Ari looks to the ground frantically, expecting a tiny gear to be settled in the dust at his feet.

“You think I’m so simple that I would fall for such a lazy, pathetic trick? Stop. Wasting. Time!”

After a moment of concentration, Ari realizes that this ticking is not coming from the ground, but is instead catching him from behind, from much farther away. He spins around and wanders towards the other side of the tent, towards the stone pillar in its stone circle -

- which is glowing.

Ticking and glowing.

“… it’s never done that before,” Ari whispers.

“Slave, what are you talking about?!”

“You don’t see that? That thing’s glowing! It doesn’t normally do that!”

“All I see is a rock sticking out of a bunch of other rocks.”

He looks over his shoulder helplessly. If Stan, the weird magic shadow, isn’t seeing the weird magic stuff going on, what does that mean for Ari? It’s a question that’s been nagging at him since the gear in the basement. He turns his attention back to the stone circle and walks towards it cautiously.

The glow is a bright, vibrant, burning green and it radiates out from the circle’s center in waves. With each wave comes a ‘wap’ sound accompanying a persistent low humming - and the ticking of course.

It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of it that Ari sees the gear - or gears. They float before the stone circle much in the same way the one in the Church basement did. There’s four of them, interlocking and turning and ticking.

“Slave, has my dark malevolence overwhelmed you into utter stupidity once again? Why are you just standing here?”

What do you want to bet these break as soon as I touch them?

Ari reaches out a hand and pokes the largest gear, seemingly at the center of the quartet’s motion. At the barest graze of his fingertip, the gear halts as does its fellow gears. The ticking stops. They hang there a moment as if unsure of what to do with themselves. But then, the center gear falls backwards, out of its place, and they all fade away.

“The rocks! They’re glowing!”

“Oh, now you notice?!”

“What is this strange structure, slave?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I’ve never seen it do this before.”

Ari’s hand is still outstretched. With the gears gone, the green waves are able to lap against his fingers. Each brings a strange, pulling sensation as if to draw him into the center of the circle. In a moment of curiosity or absentmindedness or possibly stupidity, Ari lets himself be drawn into the glow-

And immediately regrets it.

He screams as his body lifts into the air. But it’s not like flying or floating. It’s more like he’s being sucked up through a straw, thinned out and stretched. His vision fills with white and a high pitched ‘wap’ pierces his ears. This all happens and passes in just a moment, but it is a strange and terrifying moment.

When his feet touch ground again, when his body is un-thinned and un-stretched, when the white clears from his eyes and the sound dies away, Ari finds himself nowhere near the circus tent. In fact, the more he sees, the stronger his suspicions that they are suddenly nowhere near Tenel. He sees ocean, large and blue and infinite, meeting the sky at the horizon. And the ocean has never been visible in or near Tenel.

Ari finds himself on an island that towers into the sky. When he peaks over the edge, he is met with the horrifying vision of miles and miles of rocky cliff-face extending down into the sea. This awkward island doesn’t stand alone. Off in one direction, there are more islands, hilly and grassy and seemingly untouched by people. Out of the water in another, there stick the jagged shapes of stone ruins, man made things half swallowed by the sea and reduced to bones.

On the island Ari finds himself, there’s nothing but more stone circles. The one at which Ari stands, has the same green glow as the one into which he stupidly stepped. But all of the others are still and glow-less. There are six in all.

“Welcome to the Island of Wap-Wap,” comes a completely monotone voice.

Ari whips around. Standing by the edge, there is a woman dressed completely in black. She wears a black dress and black gloves and black shoes. She even has chin-length black hair. The only spot of color on her, which Ari doesn’t notice until later, is a red flower tucked into the band of her bell shaped black hat. She watches him with wide, black eyes. She’s very pale and thin, but there’s a macabre prettiness about her.

“The … island of Wap-Wap?”

“Also known as ‘Traveler’s Island,’ it connects to all over the world from this stele.”

The monotone way she talks makes Ari think of an encyclopedia having been brought to life.

“If you are to continue to travel,” she carries on, “you will have to frequent this place. But I’m afraid most of the portals lie dormant.”

“Portals …” Ari looks around. “Do you mean … these rocks link to other places?”

She nods. “Correct.”

For a moment, Ari thinks he should be more freaked out by the existence of portals magically linking cities across the land, but having his shadow possessed by a reincarnated evil king has severely increased his tolerance for ‘weird.’

“Where do they go? Is there one that opens up in Madril?” Ari asks hopefully.

Maybe I won’t have to face that field of ghosts after all.

She shakes her head. “There’s no way for you to know … until you unlock them.”

Ari sighs defeatedly.

Nevermind.

“Um … so, who are you anyway?” Ari asks, “how did you get here if all the portals are closed?”

Up to this point, the woman’s expression has matched her way of speaking - flat, emotionless, monotone. However, at these two important, natural to be asked questions, Ari thinks he catches just the barest hint of what might just be a smirk …

Wait, no, nevermind, her expression hasn’t changed in the slightest.

“Good questions … for another time, if fate allows.”

“Oh …” says Ari awkwardly.

“Fare thee well, traveler.” As if to dismiss him, the woman in black turns her gaze back out to sea.

“Oh … um … bye then.”

Feeling odd about the whole encounter, Ari turns away from her and starts to inspect the stone circles. Each one is like how the Tenel one used to be - kind of strange, but overall ordinary and frankly unimpressive. He supposes this will have to be yet another thing to keep an eye out for while trying not to die out in the world.

With nothing else to do, Ari wanders back over to the Tenel stone circle, the green waves beckoning him once more. Holding his breath and bracing himself, Ari steps into the green waves. He doesn’t scream this time as he’s spaghetti flung into the ether … but he wants to.

In the next second, his feet hit circus ground. There is the circus tent, surrounded by the familiar forest of Tenel. Off in the distance, there is the path with left leading back to safe and familiar Tenel and right leading to what is most assuredly Ari’s untimely death in the fields. He steps away from the stone circle, eying it suspiciously. The glow of it taunts him with its strangeness.

Just another weird thing to be aware of, I guess …

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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😞 Internet connectivity issues blah blah blah excuses ..... next chapter will be up later this evening.

Thank you for your patience 🙏

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 2. Enter the Pink Hero and Her Parasol

Chapter 1.

Before taking on this weird quest, before leaving home for the first time in his life, before carrying on with the evil machinations of his master, the Evil King Stanley Hihat Trinidad XIV, Ari, the hero of this epic, decides to visit the small village of Tenel one final time …

- to beg for money.

Fourteen sukel - the change belonging to the ghost previously haunting the Church basement - feels especially light when it’s all you have to live on. Ari fiddles with the coins nervously in his pockets as he walks, wishing he ate a big breakfast before leaving and wondering if grass is edible.

As he approaches Tenel’s front gates, Stan pops out from Ari’s shadow.

“What’s wrong with you, slave? You still need something from this pathetic village? Don’t waste my time with foolish errands! We’ve got fake evil kings to destroy, my powers to regain, and a continent to conquer!”

Ari takes a deep breath and rubs at his forehead.

“I-I know, King Stan, but … but I will need to, y’know, eat while we’re out traveling. You won’t be conquering anything if I starve to death, right?”

The evil king pauses in thought, a claw held to the 2-dimensional equivalent of a chin.

“I suppose you’re right, my minion. But hurry up! Every second they have my powers is another abuse to my dark, malevolent reputation.”

With that, he slips back down into Ari’s shadow. The boy crosses over into Tenel and it strikes him that this might be the last time he passes through these absurd, non-ghost proof gates. As he walks, every observation has the sour taste of possibly being the last. This may be the last time he passes by the Parm Inn that only gets two or three guests per year. This may be the last time he passes by that scared guy, standing off to the side of the path, muttering to himself about the evil king supposedly hiding out in the Madril sewer system. This might be the last time he passes by Julia-

Julia!

Maybe it’s the glare upon her usually soft, angelic face or maybe Ari just has a natural flee response when it comes to being faced with potentially awkward situations - either way, the moment he realizes that it’s Julia giving him a less than pleasant look, he darts into the nearest shop and slams the door behind him. With his back against the door, he prays she doesn’t follow in after him.

“Oh! Ari!”

The soft words of Mr. Bakster and the overpowering smell of baking bread clue Ari in that he just threw himself into the Bakery. He remembers the small pebble in his pocket.

“Hello, Mr. Bakster, Mrs. Bakster,” he says, nodding to the husband and wife in their respective places of business. “Uh … my grandmother asked me to stop by to give you something.”

“Ari, we heard that you’re off to travel,” says Mr. Bakster, seeming to pay no mind to what Ari just said.

Word travels fast … guess I’m not surprised.

“Yeah, that’s right … I guess.”

Mr. Bakster stands up, holding a hand out towards Ari. He smiles a bittersweet smile.

“We’re going to miss you, boy.”

Ari doesn’t know what to say. He steps forward and takes Mr. Bakster’s hand in a hearty man-to-man handshake.

“The little miss will miss you a lot.”

He looks over to Mrs. Bakster who stands behind the front counter, staring down at the wood intently.

“Go say a proper good-bye, will you?”

Ari nods and gently makes his way over to the front counter.

“I’ll- I’ll really miss coming into the Bakery, Mrs. Bakster. Um … you and your husband have always been so-”

“Gracious!” she suddenly exclaims, “I just don’t know what to do about that gap!” Mrs. Bakster finally looks up. “Oh, Ari! I didn’t see you come in. I’m in trouble, boy. A gap has formed in the bread oven!”

“I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Bakster. Anything I can do?”

“Nevermind that, Ari. I hear that you’re going off on an adventure.”

He nods.

“Remember this! A man should act with dignity! Keep your chin up!”

“Y-yes, ma’am. Uh,” Ari mutters as he fishes the pebble out of his pocket, “by the way, my grandmother told me to deliver this to you.”

He places the pebble on the counter. Mrs. Bakster leans in to look at it.

“A pebble?” she asks incredulously, but then realization illuminates her face.

She pinches the pebble between two flour coated fingers. “I don’t know how she does it!”

“Does what?”

“This looks like just the right stone!” Without any further, helpful explanation, she turns and rushes over to the bread oven. “Yes! It fits in the gap perfectly! What a relief!”

Ari chuckles because he can’t think of any other way to respond to something so strangely coincidental.

“Your grandma,” says Mrs. Bakster as she returns to the counter, “she seems senile, but she’s far from it. She’s a mystery, that one. Well, I suppose this deserves a bit of repayment.”

Ari’s hopes soared. “Oh, Mrs. Bakster, that means so much to me. I thought-”

“To show my thanks, take this.”

Mrs. Bakster places a piece of bread crust on the counter. Ari stares at it.

“… b-bread crust?”

“Freshly cut!” she exclaims as if to make the “reward” more enticing.

Not wanting to seem rude in the face of such enthusiasm, Ari picks up the bread crust and cradles it delicately in the palm of his hand.

“Um … thank you, Mrs. Bakster. That’s very kind of you.” He finds an empty pocket in his rucksack and sticks the bread crust in there - mostly for show. “Um, I was wondering. I’ve got a long journey ahead of me. And my parents advised me to make money on the road. I don’t have much right now. I was wondering if you might have some … some old bread or maybe a few rolls you could … um, you could spare?”

Mrs. Bakster’s face turns soft and motherly. “Oh, Ari, of course. We would love to help you,” she says sweetly.

She darts around the bakery and slips a few goodies into a bag. With each roll and pastry she grabs, Ari’s mouth waters and his heart feels more full.

The Baksters really are good people.

“Alright, Ari,” she says, coming back and plopping down an overstuffed bag.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Bakster. This is so-”

“That’ll be 2 sukel.”

Ari pauses. “O-oh … uh.”

“Discounted just for you, Ari,” she says with a wink, “to help you get started.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Bakster,” he says, fishing two precious sukel coins out of his pocket.

“You’re a good boy, Ari. Have a good trip! Bring back lots of stories!”

“I will,” he says, giving a small smile and blushing out of slight embarrassment.

When Ari steps out of the Bakery, he looks around carefully, making sure there’s no sign of Julia and her horrible, angelic, agitated, pretty face. His eyes land on Tinkers, the blacksmith. It occurs to Ari that he no longer has the possibly magic, but probably not magic stick that saved him down in the Church basement. If he’s going to go running into a wilderness filled with wandering, flesh munching ghosts, a weapon of some kind may not be a bad idea … even if it’s got to cost less than 12 sukel.

Inside Tinkers, Ari is immediately greeted by a rush of heat, kept constant by the forge in the far back. The smell of fire licked metals flood his nostrils and he can hear flames snapping and a hammer beating down with a metallic clang.

Cool!

“Hey Ari, never seen you in here before.”

He looks to the right of the shop to find a young boy leaning over the main counter. He seems only a few years younger than Ari. He’s got dark hair and yellow brown eyes and his smudged up face lights up with a genuine smile. Ari guesses that this is the blacksmith’s son.

“Ha ha, yeah, I guess I’ve never had reason to.”

“I heard what you did in the Church basement. Getting rid of that ghost! You must’ve had a really cool sword or an ax or something, right?”

“Oh … eh, not really. I … I kind of just used whatever I could find.”

“What kind of weapons do they keep in the Church?” asks the kid, genuinely puzzled.

“None really. I … I used a stick.”

The boy burst out laughing. “A stick! Ha ha! Oh man, Ari! They’re all right about you! You’re hilarious!”

Ari chuckles along, begging to God that this kid doesn’t want the actual answer.

“Anyway, did your grandpa give you a sword or something?”

“My grandpa?”

“Yeah.” The kid pauses a beat. “Wait, you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Your grandpa was a famous swordsman when he was young.”

Ari stares at the kid, cocking his head in confusion. “My grandfather? The grandfather at the Nameless Dwelling?”

“Yeah, and he used to make swords before he hurt his back. He’s famous among blacksmiths. My dad’s a big fan.”

“I had no idea. He-he never talked about things like that.”

Guess there’s a lot more to grandpa than I thought.

“What’s going on up here?” says the blacksmith, bursting in from the back. “Lot of chatter going on. Son, you finish your chores?”

“Dad, Ari’s here.”

“Oh!” The blacksmith, a bigger, sweatier, more muscular version of the son, turns towards Ari and smirks. “Hey Ari! You’ve done it! You’re really something, you know that! You saved my business from going under with the Church basement business you pulled. Thank you!”

“Oh, uh, I’m happy it all worked out.”

“Like most blacksmiths,” he carries on proudly, “we make and sell weapons and protective gear.” Suddenly, he wilts. “Unlike most blacksmiths, I’m stationed in a town where there’s nary a hero in sight. So, most of my time is spent straightening out and mending metal kitchen ware. But what can I do for you, Ari?”

Ari gulps, fearing the price tag to come at the end of this conversation. “Well, you see, sir. Um, I’m going off adventuring and-”

“Adventure always comes with danger,” says the blacksmith seriously.

“Y-yes, exactly.”

“There’ll be times when you need to pick up your weapon and fight.”

“That’s my trouble, sir. I don’t have a weapon. I was wondering if you might have something I could … buy. But I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of money.”

“That’s alright, Ari. I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of weapons.”

“Oh.”

“But let me see what I can dig up for you.”

The blacksmith starts bustling about the place, looking in cabinets and chests and moving around metal pieces in progress, clanging all the way.

“So, you’re really going on an adventure, Ari?” asks the boy, “do you know where you’re going?”

“I have a map. I hear a lot about trouble in Madril. So, I think I’ll go there maybe.”

The boy shakes his head. “A lot of bad things happening in Madril. Whelp, at least I got to see you before you left. Imagine it might be the last time.”

“Here we go!” exclaims the blacksmith as he rushes back over to Ari.

With a grand flourish and gesture, the blacksmith presents Ari with a shiny, incredibly sharp looking fruit knife. He takes the presented hilt and holds it up. It’s just about the length of his palm from tip to the bottom of the handle. Ari imagines it in a fight against another pair of frogs and the ghost and a sick feeling starts in his stomach.

“It’s great for eating fruit!” exclaims the blacksmith, “I’m sorry it’s not something cooler.”

“No, thank you, thank you,” says Ari quickly.

It’s better than a stick, I guess.

“Are there no swords here?”

“I’m afraid not,” the blacksmith admits, “I haven’t been asked to forge or repair a sword in over two years. That’s the swordiest thing I have at the moment.”

“Oh … h-how much do I owe you?”

“Please, don’t even mention it. You saved the entire town, Ari. Consider this my thanks. Now, I better not keep you any longer from your adventure. And we’ve got to get back to work. If you ever find yourself in Tenel again and you’ve got yourself a proper sword, come straight to me and I’ll service it properly. I swear it!”

“Thank you.”

“Ah, the adventuring life,” says the blacksmith wistfully, “makes me want to get out there with a sword, but I guess being the blacksmith is all I’ve got. I just make the things. I can’t go out there and play with them myself.”

Ari looks at the blacksmith curiously, finding the statement odd, but unsure what to say about it.

“I’ll come back and visit as soon as I can. Take care.”

After leaving Tinkers, Ari darts from place to place, saying his goodbyes, humbly asking for whatever scraps he can get, and diligently keeping an eye out for Julia so he can immediately run in the opposite direction. The parting words of his fellow villagers strike a chord with Ari and he can’t help but feel a surge of optimism when presented with their encouragement.

“Hey Ari! You’re going off on a trip?” says Nathan when Ari passes by him in the street, “looks like you’ve changed some. Don’t worry about Annie while you’re away. She’ll be in good hands! Count on me, brother-in-law!”

Ok, so maybe that isn’t the most encouraging, heart felt statement of the day, but the thought is nice.

“Hey, you’re awesome,” says the clerk hanging outside the Village Office, “you’re setting off to travel soon, right? On an adventure around the world! Geez, look at me - I ask a girl from work for a date, and she tells me, ‘Your Classification is Class Lazy Goof Off type.’ No respect!”

Ari isn’t at all sure what the latter part’s all about, but he says ‘thank you’ anyway.

Inside the Village Office, the woman who previously suffered a mental breakdown over Ari’s absence from the list, approaches him as he enters. He braces himself for yelling.

“Ari, I hear you’re going on a trip,” she says, calmly, “make sure you find out why you name’s not on the list. It still doesn’t make any sense. And that’s unacceptable.”

He nods and backs away slowly, leaving the Village Office immediately.

“Hey Ari,” says Levi when Ari stops by to visit, “so we both got dumped by Julia.”

Ari is struck by an overwhelming urge to not want to talk about this. But he let’s Levi continue.

“This is lame. From now on, you and I are pals. Friends in dumped-dom. Ha ha ha! See ya …”

“Slave!” Ari is startled as he leaves Levi’s house when Stan suddenly burst out from his shadow.

“You’ve wasted enough of my time! We are leaving! Now!”

No argument comes to mind to have them stay any longer. He’s said his goodbyes to practically everyone and his rucksack is well packed with kind-hearted gifts and items on sale.

“Alright,” Ari says with a heavy sigh.

“That’s better!”

Ari walks down Tenel’s main path, back towards the gate. His heart beats faster as he draws closer to the destiny that awaits him out in Tenel Field. He touches the fruit knife clipped onto his belt for easy access.

This is it. It’s happening. Really, really happening. And I didn’t even have to face Jul-

Julia is waiting for him in front of Tenel’s main gate. She has her arms crossed and her foot is tapping furiously into the ground. The look on her face is cold and harsh.

Ari thinks he would rather face a hundred ghosts than have to talk to Julia right now while she looks like that.

“So, you’re some macho touch guy, now?” she spits as he walks up to her.

“Um … no, not rea-”

“You’re going further and further away from my ideal!”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“I see what you’re trying to tell me.” Her arms unfold so that she can dramatically press her face into her palms. “You never really cared about me. I was right to say good-bye to you!”

Before Ari can say anything, she runs around him and disappears into town.

He stands there a moment, replaying what just happened in his head.

Oh yeah … I forgot … forever alone … forever uncool …

great.

Book 1: Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 - Finale

#Okage shadow king #osk #Boku to Mao #zener works #sony #Sony Entertainment #ari #playstation #PlayStation 2 #PlayStation 4 #fanfiction #fannovel #fanwork #writing #humor #comedy #fantasy #JRPG #rpg

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Quick Note from Shinkei

Hello Everyone,

Welcome to the end of Book 1!

It’s been an exhausting start, but I’ve never had so much fun with writing and I’ve never felt so passionate about a project.

Thank you for sticking around!

I’m planning to take a week off to start getting things ready for Book 2: Enter the Pink Hero and Her Parasol. I’m very excited for this book as it’s the introduction of one of my favorite characters from this game. From the beginning, I’ve been especially hyped about getting to her part.

On top of catching up on Book 2 chapters, I’m hoping to finally, FINALLY add in chapter links so navigating from part to part isn’t such a giant pain.

So, if everything goes as planned, you should expect Chapter 1 of Book 2 on Monday, May 3rd.

Hope you are as excited as I am!

Cheers,

Shinkei Koiwai

#Okage shadow king #osk #Boku to Mao #fanfiction #fan novel #Fanart #update #rpg #JRPG #author note #sony #Sony Entertainment #zener works

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 1: Chapter 16 - Finale

Ari didn’t sleep well that night. His dreams are interrupted with visions of Julia saying, ‘I can’t be with a person who does tricks with his shadow.’ And for good measure, James follows up with ‘a kid as uncool as you.’

So when his mother knocks on his bedroom door saying, “Ari? Come on. Wake up. It’s morning,” Ari sits up groggily, squinting his eyes into the unwelcome sunlight and wondering why all of this has to happen to him.

Before he can reply, his bedroom door opens and his mother practically dances into the room.

“Well, it’s another beautiful day,” she sings, “come on, Ari. Everybody’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Oh yeah … that, he remembers.

“Both your dad and Gramps are preparing something for you. Come down as soon as you’re ready. You better not go back to sleep, young man,” she chides with a giddy smile.

She turns and leaves the bedroom, but Ari can hear her giggling to herself with a “oh how exciting!” on the way out.

With a mopey sluggishness unique to a recently rejected teenager, Ari drags himself out of bed and begins dressing, his dreams still haunting him in this barely awake state.

‘I can’t be with a person who does tricks with his shadow.’

‘a kid as uncool as you.’

He sighs in adolescent despair.

Once dressed, he takes one final look around his bedroom. Julia and James temporarily pause, allowing him to remember that he’s probably not going to see this room again for a long, long time. He picks up an old rucksack from the floor. It used to belong to his mother during her adventuring days. She insisted he take it, already weighed down with extra clothes and the provisions only a mother can think of. In addition, he stuck the glass tube and the small unticking gear into one of the large pockets. They seem important and mysterious enough to be relevant on this journey.

Ari shoulders his bag and makes his way downstairs. The house has the feel of early morning. It’s quiet and expectant, as if something grand or different is about to happen. All Ari can think about though is how he must’ve really angered someone to have fate deal him such a bad hand.

The entire family, and James, wait at the foot of the grand staircase. His father beams up at him, hands on hips. His mother is still rosily smiling. Ari thinks he can see hints of happy tears in her eyes. Annie stands just behind them, giving a little wave when their eyes meet. His grandfather nods his head as he dozes off, but then his grandmother roughly elbows him awake. James … well, James just stands there, looking in Ari’s general direction with his expressionless, skullish face.

“Ari! Finally, the time has come for you to leave us,” says his father as Ari reaches the bottom step.

His words carry all the drama of a speech that’s been rehearsed several times over.

Ari nods. “Good morning to you too, Dad.”

“Yes, when I heard about all this from James, I’ll admit I was surprised. But, son, you are going on an important journey. A journey with a mission! To subjugate fake Evil Kings. And to conquer the world!”

“Uh … conquer the world?”

Ari knows the whole impostor Evil King business, but world domination is new.

“Well, it sounds great,” continues his father unfazed, “I couldn’t help but agree!”

“Hey, middle manager, the slave seems to be confused,” says Stan as he pops up from the floor.

“Huh? Oh, that’s right! I forgot to tell him. A little mistake! Silly me! Ha ha!”

“Let me update you, slave. I told you yesterday that there are fakers all over the world, claiming they’re Evil Kings.”

“Yeah.”

“I, the genuine Evil King and my slave - that’s you - are leaving on a malevolent crusade to subjugate these impostors and reclaim the powers that are rightfully mine!”

“Sure.”

“And I figured that while we’re at it, we may as well conquer the world!”

“… oh.”

“Are you ready? Don’t dally now! Let us be gone this instant!”

“… but what about-”

“Fine! Let us go, slave!”

“Hey! Hey! Wait a minute, Ari!” his father jumps in, “you have to say goodbye to the family first.”

Stan groans with impatience. “Be quick about it!”

In the next instant, Stan is gone.

“Oh Ari,” coos his mother as she rushes up to throw her arms around him, “don’t drink dirty water, ok? And greet people properly. And make sure to brush your teeth.”

“O-ok, mom, I will,” he says, patting her back gently.

“Oh, that reminds me, Ari.”

When his mother pulls away, he catches the tear trails upon her cheeks. It makes his heart ache a little.

“Take this with you,” she says, reaching into an apron pocket and pulling out an antique looking, wooden music box.

Ari takes it gingerly. It’s a deep, warm red with golden, curling accents running along the edges. A tiny lever poking out the side begs to be turned to bring the little box to life.

“This is my treasure. Your dad gave this to me when he proposed.” She giggles. “I was much younger then.”

She places her hands over Ari’s upon the little music box.

“Ari, find someone special on this quest, like how your father and I found each other. When you find her, Ari, don’t hesitate. Give her this music box. Listen to its song together. It’ll be the most beautiful thing you ever hear.”

Ari’s heart sinks. The only ‘someone special’ that comes to mind in that moment is Julia, and that ship had sailed. He can’t bring himself to turn the lever, to open the box and listen to its song. He forces himself to smile.

“Thanks, mom, I will.”

Somehow, her smile grows even warmer. She leans in and kisses her son on the cheek.

“Grab that chance, and push, push, push!”

Ari nods and when she releases his hands, he slips the music box carefully into a secure rucksack pocket.

“Ari,” comes a voice.

He looks up to find Annie stepping closer. For the first time in what feels like his lifetime, she actually looks a touch hesitant.

“I’m sorry, Ari. This whole thing started because of me. Because I … I asked you to help me.”

It’s disturbing to see Annie so down and guilt ridden. A small, brotherly smile curls his mouth and he puts a hand on her slender shoulder.

“Annie, how many boys would I have devastated if I had let you go the rest of your life speaking Pig Latin?”

She laughs.

“What are big brothers for, right?”

“Thank you so much, big bro,” says Annie, catching him in an enthusiastic hug, “I’m totally grateful! The pink shadow’s cute too!”

She releases him and Ari can see she’s back to her confident, peppy self.

“Hurray for Ari! Good luck!”

He chuckles and then makes his way over to his grandparents.

“Ari, about the strange item you got at the church in the village …” starts his grandfather.

Ari suddenly perks up, surprised that he’s finally going to get a straight unambiguous answer about something.

“Yes?” he replies eagerly.

“Legends say that it’s part of something called a ‘voice recorder.’ It’s an ancient, mysterious device that stores people’s voices and replays them. Since you’re going on a journey, you might as well look for the rest of the parts.”

“… but why though?”

“It was kept in the village as a secret treasure. Somehow, I think that it must be very important.”

Ari supposes he should be grateful that it’s at least somewhat of a straight answer.

“Uh huh, uh huh. That’s right, honey,” says grandmother cheerfully.

“Thanks, grandfather, grandmother. I love you both.”

“Oh,” says grandmother, “if you are going to the village, give this to the baker.”

Ari stares at his grandmother. She can say other things?

His grandmother reaches and places something small into the palm of Ari’s hand. It’s a pebble. A mere pebble. It’s oddly shaped and overall, unremarkable. He looks at his grandmother.

“Now, make sure you come back before dusk. There are ghosts about after dark, you know?”

She chuckles softly and pats him on the arm.

“Y-yes, grandmother, of course. Um, it’s a very nice pebble. I’ll make sure to get it to the baker.”

He pockets the pebble, worrying that the rucksack would probably digest away such a small thing. Suddenly, a loud sob bowls the room over.

“Master Stan,” wails James, “at last, at last you’re departing on your journey of world conquest! The world conquest that the former Great Evil King Gohma couldn’t achieve because of the intervention of the irritating hero Hopkins! But the dark magical power of Master Gohma is surpassed by that of Master Stan. His beautifully evil design will reach its full realization! Oh, it’s a thrilling time to be evil!” A sob hiccups his monologue. “I, James, will always watch over the Master from under the sod! Call me whenever my malicious services are required!”

“Well, Ari, it’s time to go,” says his father.

Ari looks towards the door and heaves a soul settling sigh.

I guess this is really happening. Like, actually really happening.

“Don’t look so worried. Adventuring is fun!”

His father punctuates with a hearty slap on the back.

“Yes,” says his mother, “a journey makes a person shine!”

“That’s definitely true. Is there anything we’re forgetting?”

With the door looming before him, ready to send him out into the world at any moment, Ari is struck with a sudden, exceedingly important thought.

“Um … how am I supposed to pay for things?”

“Oh!” exclaims his father, as if he also hasn’t thought of this until now, “ah, well, I’d give you some allowance, son, but, uh, heh heh, I … I used up all of my bonus the other day.”

“You see the wooden doll,” says his mother, gesturing to a figurine sitting prettily and comfortably on a nearby table. “Isn’t it cute? It was pricey though.”

“Well, son, if you are an adventurer, you can make some money while you’re on the journey!”

“Make money how?” Ari questions.

“Oh people always need things done, odd jobs here and there. Plus, you might find some spare change lying around. Here, take my card with you.”

His father hands him a business card with his name and the title ‘Assistant Manager, Tenel Village Office’ stamped across it.

“People will think you’re famous if you show them this. You may get into some private clubs or something.”

No offense, dad, but I doubt it, Ari thinks, but pockets the card anyway.

“Boy, you’re chattering forever and making me wait!”

Ari chuckles, trying to bury that awkward, sad feeling building in his stomach.

“I-I guess that’s my cue to exit.”

He turns towards the door.

“Ahem!” he hears grandfather say, “the time has come for our youth to depart! Now …”

“One … two … three!”

And in unison, the strange little family bursts with cheers and applause.

“Good luck, Ari!”

The sound fills Ari’s heart and he feels the slight sting of tears come to the corners of his eyes - though of course, he’ll never admit to them. He sniffs and quickly wipes an arm across his face to hide the evidence.

“Thanks, you guys.”

End of Book 1

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 - Finale

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

Text

Hey there! Due to location/internet limitations 😅 today’s chapter won’t be up until later this afternoon.

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 1: Chapter 15

You know what? No!

Ari takes a deep breath and determination fill his chest. His mother was an adventurer who met his father on the road. She traveled all over the world and somehow, they made it work. Nothing says that he can’t be with Julia … when he returns. He just has to find her, explain to her what’s happening, and ask her to wait. He’ll write letters. He’ll carry around her picture. He’ll try to finagle regular visits to Tenel. He races out of the Gulp Tavern.

Gotta find Julia.

He starts a run towards the town entrance. He’s not sure why that direction feels right, but he remembers Annie’s advice about ‘following his heart’ and doesn’t worry about it. Villagers try to stop and talk to him, congratulate him on his success in the Church basement, thank him for bringing the water back, compliment him on the hilarity of his ‘shadow trick,’ but he flies past with a quick “sorry, can’t talk right now.”

Suddenly, he’s in sight of the main gate to Tenel, and there she is.

Julia!

Julia is waiting for him at the gate. She’s looking down into the dust, her face pretty and thoughtful.

This has to be fate.

He runs up to her, skidding to a stop in the dirt. She looks up, surprised.

“Oh!” she gasps.

Ari pants heavily, but can’t take his eyes off of her. He’s always thought she was cute, even back when they were little, but now, he can see that she’s beautiful. She’s the most beautiful girl in Tenel. No! The most beautiful girl in all the world.

“H-Hey Julia,” he huffs out.

“Hello Ari,” she says softly.

An awkward moment passes, and then …

“I have something to tell you.”

They speak in unison.

Ari chuckles while Julia giggles softly.

“You go first,” he says.

She nods and takes a deep breath.

“Ari … I liked you.”

Yes! I knew it! I knew- waitaminute.

“L-liked? As in past tense?”

Julia looks him in the eye, her mouth set in a firm determined frown.

“Ari, you’re serious, honest, and quiet. The kind that becomes a husband who’d eat cold mashed potatoes without complaining … o-or lets me go on rampant impulse shopping sprees without complaining. That’s what I liked about you, but …”

But?

“But I can’t be with a person who does tricks with his shadow. Good-bye, Ari.”

Without waiting for him to speak, Julia moves around Ari and walks off into town. He stands there dumbstruck.

So much for fate …

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 1: Chapter 14

“Greetings, I am the fortune teller!”

Ari jumps at the sudden, loud voice that accosts him as he takes a first timid step into the Gulp tavern. He’s so distracted by the strange high-pitched sound that at first, he doesn’t quite register what’s being said. If you took a rat and told it to do chores for the next four hours, the sound of its whining and complaining would probably come close to sounding like this voice.

“Huh?”

“There’s a reason I can’t reveal my name. But ‘Love Fortune Teller Number 1’ Is what most people call me.”

Ari’s eyes finally land on the speaker. An extremely short - woman? He thinks it’s a woman anyway - wearing a muted purple dress with black and yellow stripes along the hem. The weirdest element though is a curious sack-like mask with jagged eye and mouth holes that covers the woman’s face.

“Love Fortune Teller Number 1 seems a little … different.”

“My boy, just one look at the crystal and I’ll identify exactly who loves you the most!” At this moment, she reaches into a pocket and slips out a huge crystal ball, seemingly filled with smoke.

“Am I in the right place?”

He looks around to be sure. It’s not a place he visits much, but Ari’s been in enough times to fetch his father to know what it should look like. Even midday, the place is fairly low-lit. Moody oil lamps cast a warm orange glow that goes perfectly with amber colored beverages in clear glasses. Immediately before the door there’s the bar. A grouchy looking woman, the bartender, stands behind it, eying Ari and ‘Love Fortune Teller Number 1’ with skepticism. This is the right place.

“Oh, are you not interested?” Love Fortune Teller Number 1 asks, wiggling stubby fingers over the crystal ball. “What a sad thing - a young man not invested in his love life.”

“Um, no, that’s not …”

“Great! Here we go!”

Love Fortune Teller Number 1 intensifies her finger wiggles, passing her crazed digits over the crystal’s surface.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” she starts in a strikingly un-majestic way, “Show me, my crystal ball! Show me the one with whom this boy’s life is entwined … hmmm … yes, yes! Ah, it’s coming to me through the fogs of the beyond. Yes, yes.”

“Uh … ma’am, I really have to go-”

“Whoa!”

“What?”

“A childhood friend! Let’s see. Begins with a J. Jodie … Janice …”

“Julia?”

“That’s the one! Yes, her love for you … it shines through the fog … though it sometimes gets obscured by the confusions, the frantic ups and downs of adolescence.”

“I see.”

“Despair not, boy! Do not give up hope!”

“Oi! Love Fortune Teller Number 1! Leave the kid alone,” the bartender suddenly yells.

“Despair not,” continues Love Fortune Teller Number 1, as if nothing just happened, “people inevitably change … as does the love between them.”

Ari stands there for a moment, the words weighing heavy on him with their surprising insight.

“Go home, lady! You’re drunk!”

The fortune teller finally whips towards the bar, and nearly tips over like an unbalanced top.

“I am not drunk! I’ve only had a few! I’m saving love lives here!”

The bartender says nothing, but emphatically points towards the door.

“Fine. Young man, come see me should you ever need some clarity on matters of the heart. I’ll be at the Parm Inn … probably sleeping.”

With that, the little masked fortune teller drops the crystal ball back into her pocket and makes her way tipsily out the door.

“Sheesh!” exclaims the bartender, “she’s been doing that all day. I know we’ve been closed for a long while, but people need to pace themselves. It’s the middle of the day!”

Ari just nods, mildly distracted by the fact that this makes two people now who’ve told him that his childhood friend, Julia, has been harboring a major crush for him.

“Anyway, what can I do for you, hun? Your dad hasn’t been in if that’s why you’re here.”

“No. Uh … actually, I was wondering if anyone … I mean, have you heard anything about a …” Ari feels obligated to lower his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “… a map of evil kings?”

The bartender stares at him for a minute, but then turns and nods her head towards the other side of the bar. “That one’s been going on and on about it since we reopened.”

Ari follows her gesture and finds …

“Is that the ringmaster?”

Further into the bar, the oil lamps give way to sunlight leaking in through two small arched windows set high in the wall. Most of the tables sit empty, waiting for the late evening when drinking heavily is a bit more socially acceptable. However, at one table tucked away in the corner, there sits the rotund figure of the circus ringmaster. His mustache, his wide empty eyes, and his tall top hat are unmistakable. The bartender nods, but then sighs with disdain.

“Once he starts to drink, he really gets drunk. Don’t know what to do with him.”

The rotund man shifts to readjust his seating and then dramatically tilts his head back to put away another drink. The sound of a deep, guttural burp crosses the bar. Ari grimaces.

“Thanks, ma’am.”

Forcing the disgust from his expression, Ari makes his way to the far off table. When he finds his place just behind the ringmaster’s shoulder, the smell of sweat, peanuts, and stale popcorn hits him one hundred fold and he has to painfully stifle a gagging cough.

“Stupid troopers,” mumbles the ringmaster to himself, “ugh, leaving without me …”

Another burp punctuates his lament.

“So this is the lowlife who’s spreading that swill!”

Suddenly, Stan pops up out of the floor.

“Hey you! I hear you’ve been spreading tall tales that there’s more than one Evil King!”

The ringmaster jumps and spins round in his seat.

“What?! … o-oh … you’re that kid … the one I saw the other night, with the shadow.”

“Yeah,” Ari confirms.

“Now that I got a good look,” he says, getting up from his chair and stumbling closer to Ari, “you’ve got an interesting shadow with ya there.”

“Interesting?! Agghh, fine! Whatever! Just know this, fat man - if you speak of this ‘Map o’ Evil Kings’ rubbish again, I may just shut that mouth of yours permanently!”

“Oh?” replies the ringmaster with a hiccup, “you want it? Sure thing.”

He reaches into his waistcoat and retrieves a tattered, crease patterned sheet of parchment the color of over steeped tea. Ari takes it gingerly.

“Lately, they’ve been saying a fearful Evil King’s shown up in Madril. I swear, it’s true. Ha ha ha, it’s funny really. So, what are you going to do about it, Shadow Evil King?”

The words make time stand still. Ari stares at the ringmaster, re-evaluating the man behind the polka-dotted waistcoat and the peanut smell. Even the village elder thought Stan was just some weird magic trick, but the ringmaster … he knows?

“Shadow Evil King?” repeats Ari dumbfounded.

“Curses,” spits Stan, “you’re more than just some drunk mortal, aren’t you? who are you?!”

“Ugh, I think I’m gonna barf …”

Ari scrambles back a step.

“Heh heh, too much fun last night.”

“Answer me!” barks King Stan.

But the ringmaster pays him no mind and falls back into his chair.

“Barkeep, give me 10 minutes and then bring over another bottle, would ya?”

“Not today, ringmaster! I’m cutting you off. You’ve got 5 seconds to get out of my bar and back over to the Parm Inn.”

Feeling that his interrogation of the ringmaster has decidedly come to an end, Ari moves back towards the tavern entrance before he can get caught in the bartender’s last nerve.

“Hey boy, wait! Why don’t we take a look at that map.”

“Oh, right.”

Ari almost forgot about the limp piece of paper still clutched in his fingers. He looks around, notices the bartender irritably making her way over to the unbudged ringmaster, and decides to slip over to the opposite end of the tavern. He turns up the flame in one of the oil lamps and holds the map up to catch the orange light.

The map has been folded and unfolded in a variety of different ways, each leaving a sharp hill or valley in its memory. All the world is there, rising and falling with the abundance of crinkles and creases. Ari’s eyes immediately fall on his home country, a shape like a dribbled glob of gravy. Around its edges are nameless squiggles and lines representing only God knows what. But to the north in the gravy glob country, there is Tenel, shown by a tiny little dot.

“Eh? What’s this? 1 … 2 … There are more Evil Kings than myself?”

Scanning his eyes over the expanse, Ari notices the other, more unusual map markings. Little black crowns are stamped all across the world. One blocks the dot labeled Madrid to Tenel’s southeast and another covers Rishero, a place further south that Ari’s never heard of before. But not just towns, they cover all over, haphazardly, without rhyme or reason.

Ari can’t help but notice that no such black crown appears in Tenel.

“On top of that, where’s my crown?! I’m not even on this stupid map! James! James! Where are you?!”

In the next moment, a glowing white portal blossoms up from the floor, spitting wind and mist into Ari’s face. James slowly emerges from the mist, but backwards, facing away from his master.

“Like the setting sun … the glistening moon …”

The evil butler spins around, seeming startled by the change in scenery. He quickly recovers and genuflects.

“Oh, Master! How might I serve?”

“James!” Stan barks, flailing about in classic Stan fashion, “straiten this out, will you? Am I not the one and only Evil King? The successor of the great Evil King Gohma? Who are these other Evil Kings?!”

“Hmmmmmm,” muses James as he gazes upon the map, “well, Master, I will tell you. These others are impostors. Encroachers. Evil Kings only in name.”

“Fake Evil Kings?” asks Ari.

“Precisely. While you were inside the bottle, my Master, they must have stolen your powers, and then went about claiming to be Evil Kings. That must be it!”

“You got all that just by looking at the map?”

James shrugs. “How else could such a thing be? There is only one Evil King and that is my Master.”

“Hmmmmm, I see. I knew something was wrong. These Tenel villagers called me - me - my dark majesty, a … ‘nice guy!’”

“Well, you did get that one lady’s hat out of the tree …”

“Shuddup! Naturally, if my power were at its peak, they would have wept and groveled before me. Yes! That must be it! So it was all the doing of these usurpers! These self-proclaimed Evil Kings were stealing my power!”

“How did they-”

“There is just one thing to do! Slave, you know what that is, don’t you?!”

“Uh …”

“Master!” James exclaims excitedly, “Of course! Of course!”

“Indeed! We’re going to take out all of those phony Evil Kings and get back all of my dark powers!”

“Oh … uh …”

“Then, the whole world will tremble and kneel before me as they rightfully should! Slave, let’s do this! An expedition of conquest!”

“But, um, K-King Stan … uh … Julia … girl …”

“You have nerve, slave! I may not have my full power, but you disobey me and a three hour tickling torture will be waiting for you!”

“Tickling?”

“Master,” James intervenes, “if I may, the teenage girl, Julia, has a bit of a crush on your slave.”

Ari stares at James. Even the evil butler knows?!

“For a kid as uncool as you,” James continues, “this could be your last chance for romance. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

“… well, I wouldn’t have put it quite like that …”

“Touching …” Stan says flatly, “But you’re my slave. You are stuck with me! Ha ha ha! Enough of this romantic rot! We must pack for the journey! To your house! Come on, Slave!”

“But …”

“Oh, that ‘Map o’ Evil Kings.’ How infuriating! Don’t lose that, Slave. It should keep us on the trail of those upstart impostors!”

Before Ari can cough up any more half-formed protests, Stan slips back down into the floor and James bows himself back into the whirling portal. He is left alone with the crushing defeat of having lost love before it could even begin. Feelings of uncoolness settle over him.

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 1: Chapter 13

“Who even are you?!” yells one of the office clerks.

It takes Ari a minute to recover from being startled and to recognize her as the coworker he previously asked about the purpose of the Classification Tables. This woman - he’s not sure of her name - ran up to him as soon as he stepped in through the village office doors.

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Your name’s Ari, right? A-R-I? The eldest son of the assistant manager? Unremarkable in every way?”

“… yes?”

“The Classification List just arrived from the Royal City. I’ve been over it 12 times. Your name isn’t anywhere on it!”

“I-is that bad?”

“Ari, it’s weird! Wait … were you ever on the list?” She turns away, tapping two fingers against the side of her head as if to summon the memory of every Classification List ever received. “You-you must have been. The Royal City doesn’t just not classify a citizen. Everyone is classified. Maybe it’s a mistake? Let me check the list again.”

The woman wanders off, presumably to her desk, to go over the Classification List a 13th or 14th (or 15th) time.

“Don’t mind her, Ari,” calls his dad, “she always gets stressed if there’s even a whiff of something wrong with the Classification List.”

“How often are they wrong?”

His father thinks for a second and then, shrugs.

“Until now, practically never. But anyway, I am so proud of you, son. You and Stan did a great job dealing with that ghost. Where is he? I got to tell him in person.”

“He’s not up for talking right now. Maybe later … but dad, I just went to see the elder and … he said some stuff about rumors going around, stuff about Madril …” Ari trails off, hoping his father will jump at the chance to fill in the rest.

“Oh! Right! Yes! It’s not just Madril, son. It’s happening in towns all over.”

Ari perks up. “What’s happening?”

His father rubs at his chin. “Well, I only know so much. Maybe you better go ask that scared guy …”

“Scared guy?”

“I forget his name, but you look at him and immediately, you know ‘oh yeah, that’s a scared guy right there.’ You know what I mean? I’m sure you’ve passed him while going about town.”

Ari thinks for a moment and no one in particular comes to mind. He figures that he’ll probably know a ‘scared guy’ when he sees him.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about the rumors, dad? Anything useful?”

He chuckles. “Heh, well, it’ll get Stan going. That’s for sure.”

Ari thanks his dad and, avoiding making eye contact with the clerk manically shuffling papers at her desk, he leaves the village office. He walks down the hill, back towards the main bustle of town.

“King Stan, are you sure you don’t have anything to say about all of this?”

There’s no response.

“You can’t still be mad.”

There’s still no response. Ari sighs in resignation. As he walks, he looks each and every passerby in the eye, waiting for that reaction of ‘whoa, he’s super scared.’ But the farther he goes, the more he begins to feel like an idiot sent on a wild goose chase. In the back of his mind, there’s also a sliver of hope that he’ll run into Julia somewhere along the way.

And then, he sees it - that face.

The eyes, wide and bulging, darting every which way in anticipation of something awful. The mouth, permanently turned in a jagged gape of anxiety. The cheeks, devoid of color, taking on a sickly, uncomfortable paleness.

This man is absolutely, 100%, consistently terrified.

He lingers by the town’s main gates, trembling and shuddering where he stands. Ari can’t remember if he simply passed him earlier and didn’t realize, but he finds it odd that he would ever forget a face like that. He decides to walk up slowly, feeling that any abrupt motion would send the man running and screaming. Despite his efforts, the man still jumps when he notices Ari.

“AH! Oh … oh, Ari, it’s you. Sorry. I just … Scary! Nothing is scarier than this!”

“What do you mean?” Ari asks softly.

The ‘scared guy’ begins to shudder more violently. The fear within him forces his body into a cowering stance, hunched over and small.

“All of a sudden, in spots all over the world, a bunch of Evil Kings appeared!”

“Bah! Enough of your whimpering!”

Ari jumps as Stan pops up behind him. The shriek unleashed by scared guy pierces the air and for a minute, Ari thinks he might genuinely faint.

“I’m tired and mentally wounded. And now this rubbish from you!”

“Welcome back, King Stan - long time, no see,” says Ari wryly.

“Listen up. The Evil King is the King of Evil. And a King is a King. That means only one! Not two or three. One! Moi!”

“No! I’m not making this up!” says the scared guy.

Ari is impressed that he hasn’t fainted or run away screaming yet.

“That pudgy guy at the bar has been talking about it. The word is that in certain places, there are copies of the ‘Map o’ Evil Kings’ floating around.”

“That sounds incredibly fake,” Ari mutters.

“It tells the locations of the Evil Kings.” The man shudders even more violently. “It’s just so scary.”

“Hogwash! ‘Map o’ Evil Kings?!’ Are you kidding? Slave! Find the lunatic who’s spreading these lies! He will pay for this!”

Ari sighs as Stan slips back into the ground.

Back to a lifetime of slavery and servitude, I guess.

“Wow, Ari,” scared guy says, and for once, he looks just a little less scared, “that’s a pretty neat trick.”

Ari prays Stan didn’t hear that and makes a quick retreat.

“Good-bye, sir! Pleasure talking with you!”

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

Text

Book 1: Chapter 12

“You’re finally awake.”

Ari looks up to find his sister and, of all people, Nathan walking toward him. The couple stops in front of him, Annie placing a hand on one hip and Nathan shoving his hands into his pockets. Ari quickly tucks away the Cyphertext.

“For a while, I thought you were dead,” she says, giggling. “But hey! You’re not! And look at you. You’re almost cool now!”

Ari chuckles. “Heh heh, almost.”

“Nobody knew you existed before. But now, the whole village is noticing. More importantly, Julia is noticing.”

He stares at her dumbly.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Ari,” Nathan chimes in, a pitying smile on his face, “I knew you were slow, but not that slow.”

“What are you talking about?”

Annie flips a pigtail in impatience. “Duh, bro, Julia likes you … even more now that you’re the big hero around town.”

“But … but Julia turned me down when I asked her about the circus. She said someone else asked her.”

“Yeah,” says Nathan, “Levi - she dumped him like a sack of potatoes as soon as the circus was over. She told him she was interested in someone else. Now, he’s nothing but a shell of a man, crying on the floor in his room …”

“You’ve never heard of ‘playing hard to get?’” Annie asks incredulously. “She was trying to make you jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Ari’s not sure how to take this. Julia’s always teased him, but it never struck him that it was because she …

“Anyway,” Annie interrupts his thinking, “you’ve got yourself an easy in, Ari! Julia’s all yours! Nice going, you!”

“Yeah, good going, man!”

Ari feels his face grow hot and he rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Are those pastries?”

He suddenly notices Annie’s eyes trained in on the remaining pastries in their paper bag. Happy to stop talking about his love life, he holds the bag out for his sister.

“Gift from the Baksters. Strawberry and cheese. Go for it.”

Smile turning wide and sweet, she takes the bag and fishes one out for herself.

“Don’t tell mom,” she says before taking a huge bite. She happily chews for a moment, savoring the sweetness. “So, where are you off to now?” she asks after swallowing.

“Oh … um, the village elder said I should go see dad at the office. Something about some new rumors cropping up?”

“Oh yeah,” says Nathan, “people are freaking out about Madril.”

“People are always freaking out about Madril,” says Annie, rolling her eyes.

“Not like this though. People are really scared. I guess the elder sees you as Tenel’s star defender. Maybe he hopes you’ll do something about it.”

“What am I supposed to do?” asks Ari with a shrug.

Nathan answers with a shrug of his own. “I don’t know, man. Same thing you did to the ghost in the church?”

“Never mind all that,” Annie suddenly bursts, “Ari, listen to me. The only thing you should be thinking about is Julia! It’s a matter of life and death. Strike while the iron’s hot.”

“What?”

“Go find Julia! She’s probably all a flutter over you. Now’s the perfect time to ask her out!”

“Do you know where she is?”

Annie and Nathan look at each other.

“I saw her at your house earlier,” admits Nathan, “but I didn’t see where she ran off to.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Annie exclaims, “true love will bring you two together. Just listen to your heart, Ari …”

Ari stares at her blankly.

“Or … y’know, something like that.”

“I’ll … I’ll try my best?”

“Good,” she says with a triumphant nod, “well, we’ll see you later. Nathan and I are going over to his house to hang out.”

Annie leans up to Nathan and cuddles his arm. Nathan can only blush and rub at the back of his head.

“Heh heh, yeah, see ya, Ari.”

With Annie still firmly tangled around Nathan’s flabby bicep, the pair turn and mosey on down the road. Ari stands there a moment and looks on after them, his mind caught up in a teenager tangle of confusion and emotion. He has no idea where Julia is at this moment and, it seems, neither does his heart. So, the next best thing he can do is carry on to the village office to see his dad, as if the conversation didn’t just happen.

Waitaminute - Annie’s dating Nathan?!

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

Text

Book 1: Chapter 11

When Ari walks through Tenel’s front gates, it feels like walking into a totally different town. There’s a different kind of energy bustling through the streets. Each villager seems to be smiling more as they go about their daily business. Ari hasn’t seen things this way in weeks.

And, most striking of all, everyone seems to notice him.

“Hey Ari! Way to go!”

“Hey, you’re amazing. You defeated the Ghost! Well, as strong as you are, you’re off to travel then, huh?”

“I can start going to Church again! Thank you, Ari! I’m on my way to confession now!”

“Ari, your stand up comedy routine was great! According to my original survey on “Tenel: Funniest Guys To Be Around Ranking”, you’re one notch up from being the lowest in rank! That’s so cool, Ari!”

When he passes the bakery, Mr. Bakster rushes out to catch him.

“Ari! Glad you wandered by. Will you stop in and say hello to Mrs. Bakster? She’s so happy for you. Remember she cares about you. She’s so very proud of what you did!”

Ari can’t help himself. A small smile appears on his face.

“Sure.”

With that, Ari follows Mr. Bakster back into the bakery. Mrs. Bakster stands at her usual place behind the counter.

“Dear, look who it is.”

Mrs. Bakster looks up. “Oh Ari, I hear that you’re the one who saved the village. Come on, act like a hero! A hero should act with dignity!”

“Oh … yeah,” Ari mutters.

“Especially after doing a good thing!”

Despite her typical harshness - some things never change, Ari supposes - Mrs. Bakster is beaming at him, a smile of warmth and genuine pride caked upon her face.

When Ari leaves, he carries with him an unfamiliar, but nice, happy fulfilled feeling and a small packet of strawberry and cheese pastries. Realizing he literally hasn’t eaten for two days, he quickly devours one or two (or three) on the way to the village elder’s house.

“Ari!” exclaims the elder’s daughter when she finds him at her front door. She radiates pure happiness and gratitude. “Oh! I was hoping you would stop by! I wanted a chance to personally thank you! Do you know how much cleaning I’ve been able to get done over the past 2 days?”

She moves aside and beckons him in. As soon as shoe touches floor, Ari slips and nearly falls.

“Oh! Yeah, please be careful! I just finished the floors. They’re a bit slippery.”

Holding onto the wall for dear life and securely clutching the remaining pastries, Ari follows the elder’s daughter to the study.

As soon as the door opens, the village elder launches up and rounds his desk towards them.

“Ari, my boy!”

The elder grabs Ari’s hand in a firm, enthusiastic handshake. His strength is surprising given how elderly the village elder is supposed to be. Ari nearly drops his pastries. As the village elder guides Ari closer to his desk, the elder’s daughter quietly slips out and closes the door. Ari suspects she’s off to do more cleaning.

“Well done! Well done indeed! I always thought that you were a promising youth! Such bravery! You fought that ghost all by yourself and you fixed the town’s water problem.”

With each word, Ari can feel his cheeks turn redder and redder. He’s certainly not used to this kind of attention.

“I-it was … was my pleasure, sir. I-I’m happy to help.”

“You can even make people laugh with your shadow!”

Ari casts a wary eye down at the floor, wondering if Stan heard that.

“By the way, I found this-” Ari tries to start.

“Alright! I’ve made up my mind!” The village elder returns to his desk and begins sorting through one of the drawers. He pops back up from his seat with a fancy looking envelope in hand.

“Take this, Ari. This is a Cyphertext.”

The look on the village elder’s face makes it seem like Ari should know what a Cyphertext is and that he should be caught in a state of awe by it. Ari gingerly takes the offered envelope.

“My boy, you have proved yourself worthy by your acts of bravery and cleverness. I officially and happily extend to you this invitation to join the Sermo Comixtus Society.”

“S- … Sermo Co-what-us?”

“Sermo Comixtus. We are a secret society of puzzle solvers, stationed all over the world, seeking out the most tangled of texts, the most mixed up of monologues, and the most snarled of sentences. Within that envelope, Ari, is your first task. If you can solve that puzzle, you will officially be a member of Sermo Comixtus and your adventures will truly begin.”

Ari nods slowly and slips a finger beneath the wax sealed envelope flap.

“No! No! Not here!”

Ari jumps and earns himself a paper cut.

“If you reveal the text to me, I might be tempted to help you solve it. You know how much I enjoy a good puzzle.”

Ari didn’t know that, but lets the elder carry on.

“Open it once you’ve left my house. Remember, you are not to receive any assistance on this - not even from me.” The village elder suddenly looks wistful. “I remember my first puzzle … I spent two months on it. I would stare at it for days at a time. It was grueling work, but so worth it …”

“I-I will try my best, sir,” says Ari as he slips the envelope into his pocket.

The village elder moves back to his desk and takes a seat.

“So, sir, in the Church basement-”

“I’m looking forward to your success and acceptance into the Sermo Comixtus Society.”

At this point, Ari’s fairly certain the village elder just likes saying ‘Sermo Comixtus’ over and over.

“Um, thank you, but-”

“Now,” the elder continues, “with fun and games aside, I would urge you to think over what we discussed two days ago.”

Ari has to think for a moment, retracing events before two days of near-comatose sleep and a fierce mind boggling battle with a ghost and a couple frogs. But he vaguely remembers a brief discussion about an evil king and the end of the world.

“Th-the Evil King?”

Somehow, and he will find it near impossible to explain to anyone who asks, Ari feels a twinge in his shadow.

“Yes, exactly. Though our ghost problem has been solved, we can’t ignore the strange goings-on outside of Tenel. The rumors are far too troubling to ignore.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll leave you with this, Ari. Go to your father in the Tenel Village Office and ask him about Madril. Ask some of the townsfolk - particularly that scared guy, what’s-his-name. There’s something more going on than just a ghost in the Church basement.”

Ari lets a heavy pause hang in the air, feeling that it’s fitting for such an ominous, dramatic statement. When it feels right, he nods his thanks to the village elder.

“Speaking of the Church basement-”

“And remember to have fun with that Cyphertext! I’m so excited for you, Ari. Off you go now!”

“But I found this thing-”

“Now now, Ari, not another word. I just cannot help you with that Cyphertext. On your way now.”

Ari sighs in defeat. He turns and leaves the village elder’s study. As he carefully makes his way down the slippery, immaculately clean hallway, the elder’s daughter pops out from one of the rooms. She wipes her brow and lets out a satisfied sigh. Apparently, one more room has been cleaned to satisfaction.

“Oh, Ari, did you have a good chat with my father? Let me guess, he told you about that secret Sermo Comixtus Society, didn’t he?”

Ari nods.

“Typical. He’s such a little kid. Thank you for humoring him.”

He chuckles awkwardly. “Heh, n-no problem?”

Once outside, Ari slips the envelope out of his pocket.The paper is old and tea colored. A wax seal keeps it shut and Ari’s name is written in a fancy script on the other side. Looking around, he slips a finger beneath the lip of the envelope. The seal crumbles away as he opens it. As he finds the little card inside, he remembers the elder’s talk about spending months on puzzling out a Cyphertext.

‘Cyphertext 1 Sdnuorg eht ot og s’tel ereh si sucric eht.’

Now, Ari does not consider himself particularly smart, but even he thinks this is a little disappointing.

#okage shadow king #osk #zener works #sony #sony entertainment #playstation 2 #playstation 4 #video games #jrpg #rpg #nostalgia #2001 #20th anniversary #fanfiction #fanart #fanwork #writing #novelization #boku to maō

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

Text

Book 1: Chapter 10

When Ari wakes up, the very first thing he sees is his bedroom ceiling, and for just the briefest moment, he’s tempted to believe again that the whole thing - the Pig Latin curse, the strange bottle, weird butler, Evil King Stan, fighting a ghost in the Church basement - was just a dream. But then the redundancy of it hits him and he pushes away the temptation.

“About time you woke up, slave.”

Ari hears the crabby grumblings as he slips out of bed. As Stan pops out from under his feet, he notices that he’s been changed into pajamas.

“What happened?” he asks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes.

“In shock of my fury and rage, you promptly passed out. I disappear when you fall unconscious - which is a surprisingly frequent event it seems - but I saw idiots from the village come down a couple hours later to find you pathetically curled up on the basement floor. They noticed the low level ghost had been vanquished, praised my name, and quickly whisked you home to your family. You’ve been asleep for two days.”

“Two days?!”

“Pathetic, isn’t it? But then, I suppose my powers are considerably overwhelming. So, don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Ari sits down on the bed, memories of a burning white glow and the phrase ‘overdrive’ drifting through his mind. He pulls up the pant leg of his pajamas and finds a neat bandage hiding away the teeth marks. A twinge of tenderness aches his skin when he gently pokes it.

“I guess it was all the fighting. I-I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Speaking of, slave,” Stan starts in an offended huff, “what was all that? I wasn’t aware you had any sort of actual ability.”

“Neither was I,” Ari admits, “there was a moment in the middle of it, where everything sort of froze, and … there was this gear …”

“A gear?”

“Yeah, it was just floating in front of me. D-Does that mean you didn’t see it?”

King Stan places a thoughtful claw to his bright yellow mouth.

“Maybe you’ve been blessed with power simply due to your proximity to me. Leech-like you utilize the great amounts of power, boiling over from my being.”

Ari takes this as a ‘no,’ and sighs in resignation that he won’t find answers here.

“Technically, you’re the leech here,” he says, but then suddenly notices the glass tube sitting on his desk. “The village treasure?”

“Treasure?! Pah! Never mind that garbage! I’ve been stuck in this room for two days. Get dressed and make yourself useful!”

Before Ari can respond or even comply, there’s a soft knock at the door and his mother’s voice.

“Ari? Are you awake?”

He can hear an eagerness mixed with relief in his mother’s tone. “Y-yeah, I just woke up.”

“Oh, Ari! You must come see! Get dressed! Everyone is out front, waiting for you!”

“Everyone?”

Ari listens to his mother’s footsteps disappear down the hall.

“Well, don’t sit there like a slug! Get going!”

Stan sinks back down into the floorboards. Ari is grateful for a multitude of reasons, but the silence to be able to think stands at a solid number 2 on that list. As he dresses, the strange, floating gear still ticks away in his thoughts, and the word ‘overdrive’ echoes back.

Why ‘overdrive’ anyway? Did I make it up? I mean, if I did, it’s not a very cool name for an attack. I mean, even Stan had ‘Burning Devil.’ Even for him, that’s sort of cool. And how did I even get an attack? It couldn’t have been the weapon … unless that was a magic stick. Dammit! The one cool, magic item to fall into my hands and it’s a stick!

Ari doesn’t actually believe it was a magic stick.

Once dressed, Ari grabs the glass tube and turns it over in his hands. He’s not sure if the village meant for him to take it or if they didn’t recognize it as Tenel’s most prized possession and thought it was just some trash. Either way, he sticks it in his pocket and plans on asking the Village Office or the Village Elder or someone what he’s supposed to do with it.

Leaving his room, Ari makes his way down the hall and down the grand staircase that leads to the front door. Despite living with five other people - six if he includes the evil butler - the house is surprisingly quiet and empty feeling. He imagines that everyone is already getting on with their daily business. When he steps out the front door and into the sunlight, he is immediately deafened by waves of cheering.

The entire town of Tenel seems to be standing in his family’s courtyard. Some of Ari’s friends balance on the wall of the water fountain, waving at him. A few late villagers stand in the back of the crowd, carefully shifting away from the ancient graves so as not to step on the haunted ground. But in the front are a cornucopia of familiar faces, all pressing closer to give their enthusiastic support and ask their burning questions. He even sees Julia there, looking up at him with a uniquely feminine look of worry and concern.

“Hey! Hey, Ari!”

“Good work, Ari! Way to go!”

“Thanks! That was great!”

“How did you get rid of the ghosts? Let’s hear it, Ari!”

“Yeah! Tell us, Ari!”

Ari stands there speechless. He’s never been so noticed by so many people all at once. An embarrassing blush rushes to his cheeks.

“Grrr, they’ve got it all wrong,” Stan growls from somewhere, “It was all my doing! Evil King Stan is the proper target of your affection! Oh well, this is good timing. They are all assembled to receive the wisdom I shall bestow upon them!”

Before Ari can react, he hears the familiar whistle and feels Evil King Stan loom up behind him. He looks over his shoulder to find the shadow towering over him, quaking with an evil laugh as he looks out over the villagers. Ari tries to read the faces of the crowd. They look surprised to say the least.

“Listen here, villagers! I am the reincarnation of the Evil King Gohma, the Evil King of Darkness! I am Stan!”

“Wh-what’s going on?”

“Say, isn’t that …”

Ari hears the confused whispers and murmurs bubbling up from the crowd.

“Now that I’ve returned to this world, all that walks, flies, or crawls shall be my subjects! As a reward for your willing subjugation, I shall grant you insects a long, delightful purgatory!” Stan punctuates with a hearty laugh and then adds, “hear this! My official declaration! I will saturate this land with a black cloud of astounding malevolence!”

Ari feels a breeze hit the back of his neck as Stan whips about in his fervor.

“My plague of evil will infect every corner of this world! Bow before your lord and master, Evil King Stan!!!”

The ominous echo of ‘Stan’ bounces about the courtyard, over the heads of the bewildered audience. It seems like even the birds and squirrels in the trees have stopped twittering and chirping. Ari swallows nervously, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

“Aha! They’re speechless!” King Stan hisses in delight.

The quiet is heavily unnerving.

Ari waits.

And then, waits a moment more.

Another moment.

“… Ha ha …”

“… Pffft, ha ha ha ha ha!!!”

“Ha ha ha ha! This is too much!”

One laugh unleashes another and then another in a chain reaction of hilarity.

“Ari! I didn’t know you were such a riot!”

“Oh wow, this is good! I’m gonna die laughing!”

“That shadow trick of yours is pretty slick!”

“What?!”

“Hey! You should perform at the next Tenel Festival!”

“Evil King Stan, did you say? That’s priceless! Ha ha ha!”

“YOU PEASANTS! What are you laughing at?! My great decree is to be taken seriously! You! That one there! Stop laughing!”

“He just keeps going! Ha ha!”

All of a sudden, Ari feels a strange heat radiating off of the clearly angered shadow and it occurs to him that it’s been quite a while since he last used that ‘burning devil’ trick.

“Ah-um, OK, everyone,” Ari calls out, waving his arms to get their attention, “thanks for stopping by! Um, n-no trouble at all about the … the whole ghost thing … I gotta get back to studying. I-I’ll see you around town!”

Ari whips around and darts back inside the house before Stan can incinerate the entire town with black fire. He sighs as he leans against the front door.

“Why? Aghh! I don’t understand! Why?!” King Stan laments, shaking with rage. “I am the Evil King! A harbinger of impending doom! Yet the humans mock me … They even laugh at me! I’m so humiliated!”

Awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck, Ari wracks his brain for something to say in response to King Stan’s tantrum of self-doubt.

“Well, I-”

“What am I … What am I supposed to do?! Am I a failure as Evil King? Am I a hopeless Evil King?”

“Uhhh …”

“So, it’s true?!”

“Wait, I didn’t-”

“Do I have to hear from this lousy slave that I am a lousy hopeless Evil King? I can’t take this anymore! I’m tired. I must rest for a while.”

And like a 2-dimensional teenager, Stan disappears to sulk in private. Ari waits a moment, frozen temporarily by the emotional whiplash. He’s not even sure how that conversation even happened.

“St-Stan?” he calls meekly.

Nothing happens.

“King Stan?”

“Silence! Don’t talk to me now! Curses!”

Ari supposes the shadow is well and truly upset.

“Oh, Ari!”

He looks up and finds his mother emerging from the kitchen, a huge sweet smile plastered across her face. She rushes up to him and catches him in a hug, squeezing him too tightly.

“Did you see them, Ari? The entire village came to see you! Oh, I’m so proud of you! My popular little man!”

“Mom,” he whines in a teenagerly way.

“You should go out into town,” she says excitedly as she finally pulls away, “I’m sure everyone wants to talk to you. Oh! And Stan too!”

A low growl rumbles up from the floor.

“Stan isn’t feeling too talkative right now.”

“Well, anyway, I heard even the village elder wants to speak with you! Apparently, there’s some rumor going around town.”

“What kind of rumor?” Ari asks, knowing full well that a rumor in Tenel is nothing new and usually nothing much to be excited about.

“I don’t know too much about it myself. Some kind of trouble happening in other towns. Go ask your father about it while your out. Go on!”

His mother practically pushes Ari out of the house. Once clear of the entryway, the front door slams shut behind him.

“Love you!” comes his mother’s muffled voice.

The courtyard now sits empty, its crowd of visitors having dissipated to carry on with normal, everyday Tenel business.

“I guess I’ll see what the elder wants,” Ari mumbles to himself … or to Stan, in case the shadow was still listening.

Before Ari sets off towards the gate, a strange noise pricks at his ears. It’s not the usual noises of nature - not chirping or twittering or snapping twigs - but it’s a sharp, mechanical clicking. It’s rhythmic and consistent. Instead of carrying on down the stone steps, he follows the noise along a small dirt path connecting the front to the back. Two balconies look down at him from the side of the house. Briefly, Ari wonders if the noise is leaking from one of those rooms. But no, it sounds much too close. Carrying on, he passes by a pile of firewood and a stump bearing the ax that made it. No, not from there.

Finally, Ari finds himself at the base of a tall, spindly steel tower. It’s an awkward marker for where the family property ends and the land suddenly drops off in a fair cliff, overlooking miles and miles of untamed, monster ridden wilderness. The tower is made up of lattice girders, spaced out at the base and joining together as the reach the top. The whole thing seems oddly squashed - as if a giant had grabbed it and squeezed - and it leans in a way that doesn’t seem safe.

“I found the source of the ticking,” he says to no one in particular, for no particular reason.

With an eye on the tower should it decide this is the opportune moment to finally keel over, Ari pokes around the tall grasses and tangled wild flowers. He swears the ticking is buried here at the tower’s feet. Finally, as he pulls aside a clump of weeds, a tiny gear comes into view. Nestled among the plant stalks, it fidgets in place, emitting that steady tick.

“Stan?” Ari excitedly whispers - though a beat later, he’s not sure why he felt the need to whisper since no one is around.

There is no response from the evil king. Feeling as if it might stop or disappear in a blink, Ari reaches out and gently plucks up the gear from its weedy nest. He lays it out in the palm of his hand. Overall, it seems completely ordinary. It fits neatly in his hand. It’s a dark, well-worn iron and has bits of dirt stuck in its crevices. If it wasn’t clicking on its own, Ari would have assumed it just fell off the tower. Naturally, he wonders if this gear bears any relation to that which he found (and broke) in the church basement.

Before he can think about it for too long, the ticking suddenly stops and the gear sits still.

I broke another one?

Ari wiggles hand in hopes of jiggling the gear back to ticking, clicking life, but the thing sits motionless, tickless, clickless.

I broke another one.

And of course, Ari’s now not sure if there was ever any noise at all. Perhaps it was all in his head. He wonders if hallucinations and mental breakdowns are typical symptoms of having one’s shadow possessed by a reincarnated evil king.

Anyway, Ari decides to pocket the little gear for now, just in case it start up again. If Stan will ever decide to talk to him again, maybe he can ask about it. But helpful answers don’t seem to be the evil king’s forte.

#okage shadow king #osk #boku to maō #zener works #sony #sony entertainment #playstation 2 #playstation 4 #video games #jrpg #rpg #writing #fanfiction #fannovel #fanwork #fanart #novelization

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 1: Chapter 9

“Oh sure, by all means,” Ari’s father says pleasantly, “I have a feeling this will be interesting.”

He looks up at his son and the Evil King Stan as the Tenel Village Office thunders around them in chaos, more chaos than what is considered normal. Some workers run around frantically with stacks of papers haphazardly clutched in their arms while others hide under their desks, hoping no one will notice them.

“Um … is everything ok here, dad?” Ari asks.

His father pops up from fishing a set of keys out from deep within a severely cluttered desk drawer.

“Oh sure,” he says, his smile never faltering, “everyone’s just excited about the ghost in the Church and the village finding out about it.”

Ari looks again and catches tears running down faces and wails echoing throughout the office. “I don’t think ‘excited’ is the right word.”

“Don’t mind them, son. The town found out about the ghost in the Church and these guys are all panicking that there’s going to be a mob coming after the village office because we’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks. Here you go!”

He hands Ari a ring of keys. King Stan giggles maliciously.

“Perfect. Tell your fellow mortals that their ghost problem is coming to an end …” King Stan lowers his voice so that only Ari can hear him. “… and their Evil King problem is just beginning.”

Ari starts to rethink this strategy.

“Well, I’ll see you later, dad.”

“Be careful, Ari, and on behalf of the village of Tenel, Stan, we’d like to extend our deepest thanks for taking care of our ghost problem.”

“King Stan! KING! KING! KING!”

Ari makes his way out of the village office, stepping over several assistants and secretaries curled over in fetal positions along the way.

“Look at this pathetic rabble, slave,” King Stan murmurs as they make their way outside, “all this crying and panicking over measly ghosts and fellow humans with pitchforks. They have no idea the terror I have in store for them.”

It occurs to Ari that even though taking care of the ghost would be a good thing for Stan to do, he’s not sure if putting the Tenel treasure into the shadow’s clutches is worth it. He has no idea what sort of treasure is in the Church’s basement. If it’s really a thing of great power, Ari might just be dooming Tenel and who knows? Maybe the whole world. Stan has been pretty ridiculous up to this point, but how much would people be laughing if he truly has the power he brags about?

Before Ari knows it, he’s standing before the Church, key in hand. He hesitates.

“Don’t be chicken, slave! Those lesser evil being are nothing in the face of my awesome power! Now, get in there!”

“Oh! Master! Please wait!”

Ari looks over his shoulder just in time to see a ball of lightning appear and burst to result in James the evil butler strolling casually towards them.

“I long to see your evil plans come to fruition, my Master. I cannot wait! However, there is one thing,” James looks squarely at Ari, “you’re a rookie, Ari, and let’s be honest, not so sharp. Try your best to stay out of Master’s way.”

Ari stares at James, unsure if he should be offended or not. Then, he nods.

“Good! Well, good luck, my Master!”

Another ball of lightning appears, bursts, and James is gone.

“Does he always do that? Shows up, says a sentence or two, then poof! He’s gone?”

King Stan shrugs. “That is James’ way, I suppose. Now, slave, no more stalling!”

Before he can second guess himself, Ari steps up to the Church door and unlocks it. The door sticks terribly and only opens with a bit of force. A musty, rotted wood smell, mixed with ancient incense greets Ari as he steps inside. The only light comes from the sun reaching in through the stained glass windows. It’s weak and does little to dispel the darkness.

It’s been ages since Ari’s been in Church and he’s certainly not used to seeing it so empty. The pews are hauntingly dusty. The pulpit at the far end still holds homily notes and announcements.

“Slave, the basement,” King Stan manages to whisper.

The shadow gestures towards a door to one side of the Church. In the dim light, Ari picks out the right key and unlocks it.

This is it … I guess.

Ari’s heart pounds in his chest and it’s only when he removes the key from the lock that he notices his hands are shaking. The door opens with a loud whine that seems ear shattering in the solemn quiet. Ari is greeted with basement darkness, a familiar phobia of his childhood days.

“I-I can’t see a thing.”

“Hmmm, that is problematic. I can’t exist in a completely dark room.”

“Wait, really?”

“Think carefully, slave. Is it possible to have a shadow in total darkness, where there’s no source of light?”

“Well, no-”

“Exactly! Sheesh! James wasn’t kidding when he said ‘not too sharp.’” King Stan pauses to look around. “Ah! But we can use those!”

Ari follows King Stan’s pointing finger to one of the floor candelabras lining the sides of the Church. Their candles are partially melted from previous use, but have become cold and dusted over.

“Grab one, slave!”

Feeling just a touch sacrilegious, Ari reaches up and plucks out a thick candle from the candelabra’s clutches.

“I don’t have any matches, King Stan.”

“Don’t bother me with your mortal problems, boy,” he grumbles and then whispers, “burning devil …”

Suddenly, black fire spurts from the Evil King’s finger and catches upon the wick of the candle. Ari nearly drops it in surprise.

“Careful, slave!”

“Whoa! What was that?”

“My power! The glorious malevolent flames of all the evil possessed within me!”

“… but it’s so teeny.”

“I was lighting a candle, slave! Not burning the Church down!” King Stan crosses his arms and mumbles, “and anyway, I’m nowhere near back to my full strength. Whatever! Just get on with it!”

Ari swallows all the questions he wants to ask and, raising the candle high, begins his descent into the basement. The stairs are old and rickety, the barest bones of what stairs should be. They tremble and squeal under each of Ari’s steps. It doesn’t help that the Evil King Stan must huddle close to Ari’s back to stay within the candle’s halo, lest he be swallowed up by the black. There’s a cold that crowds the basement. It’s clammy and wet, like the whole room is nervously sweating. And off in the distance, Ari can hear an indistinct noise. In one moment, it sounds like the natural settling of an old foundation, but in the next, it sounds like muffled howling and moaning.

“Look, slave!”

Ari jumps, his ears ringing from the sudden command.

“What?! What is it?!”

“An oil lamp!”

He swings the candle round and as he finally steps down on the floor, the light catches the faint gleam of a bulbous oil lamp dangling by a chain from the center of the ceiling.

“Looks like there’s still some oil in it. Go and light it!”

“Why can’t you light it? You know, with that burning devil trick, spell thing?”

“My powers are limited, slave. I’m not wasting it on every little light fixture we pass!”

Considering there’s still a ghost to deal with, Ari finds that fair. Standing on tiptoe and being extremely careful, he lifts the glass globe to share the candle’s flame with the oil soaked wick. The room floods with a warm, yellow glow.

“Ah, much better!” King Stan stretches out into the light.

If the cold, drippy atmosphere wasn’t a give away on the trip down the stairs, the oil lamp confirms the dungeony atmosphere, revealing muddy grey stone floors and dark stone brick walls. A collection of barrels off in the corner suggests the Church used this mostly for storage, but then Ari also finds a wooden bench and a lion headed fountain. The lion’s mouth is dry and dusty, having gone weeks without water to spit out into the basin below it. Finally, beside the fountain, there is a heavy metal door. When Ari draws closer to it, the room somehow gets even colder and his skin begins to crawl and itch.

“I-I think th-this is it, King Stan,” Ari says through fear and chattering teeth.

“Hmm, yes, I can feel the presence of a lowly being, skulking around in there. This must be where the treasure is!”

Reluctantly, Ari fidgets the still lit candle and the key ring to ready the fitting key.

“And-and you’re sure you got this?” Ari can’t help but ask.

“You doubt my power?!”

“No, not doubt, just … you know, checking in.”

“Open the door, slave!”

Ari takes a deep breath and turns the key in the lock. The mechanism makes a loud thunk which makes him tense up. The door opens and to his surprise, there’s already an oil lamp lit. And the first thing Ari catches in the lamp light is a hulking red cloud of a ghost, aggressively pacing the room. It seems to be muttering to itself, but of course, Ari has no idea what it’s saying.

“Booo, boobah, bah?! Boo boo bah bah!”

(Where am I?! I’ve been lost for ages!)

It doesn’t look like it’s noticed us yet, Ari thinks with a touch of relief.

“So, you’re the third class demon who stands in the way of my ambition!”

Well, that was short lived.

The ghost stops its pacing and spots Ari and King Stan in the doorway.

“Slave, move closer,” he whispers.

With King Stan’s prodding, Ari reluctantly inches further into the room. It has the same dungeon inspired atmosphere of the last room, but amidst the wooden crates and barrels, a giant, thick, rusty pipe snakes from one wall to another. A large valve sticks up out of the pipe and it occurs to Ari that this must be where the water issue is. The ghost puffs up, reclaiming Ari’s attention. Bits of debris supposedly trailed in by the ghost - sticks, leaves, and rocks - tremble on the floor. As the angry yellow eyes fall on him, Ari feels his stomach drop and a gross, clammy sweat breaks out on the back of his neck.

“Booh, baaah!”

(Whoa, what a weird shadow!)

“Ha ha ha! Look at it, slave! This low rank demon, he cowers before my divine dark power!”

Ari watches the ghost and it doesn’t seem at all like it’s cowering, in his opinion anyway. Then again, Ari figures he, himself, doesn’t speak ghost, so he’s probably just missing something.

“Boo bo bo behobooo!”

(Oh boy, this is too funny! What a weird shadow!)

Is the ghost chuckling?

“Ah, I see. You want to pledge allegiance to me?”

“Bubabubaboo …”

(Getting hungry … he’s weak-looking. He’ll do.)

The ghost’s eyes travel up and down Ari’s stature. Then, the big red cloud starts slowly drifting towards Ari and King Stan.

“Uh, K-King Stan?”

“Yes, very good! Once you become my follower, your existence will be devoted to me!”

Then, a terrible, awful thought strikes Ari. It’s so terrible and awful that Ari immediately rejects it in a desperate attempt to hold onto hope in this situation. But …

I don’t think Stan can understand ghost. He’s supposed to be their lord and master - how could he not understand ghost?!

“Booh boo ha!”

(Time to chow!)

The big red cloud charges Ari. Before the boy can move, he is swallowed up by a red mist. It feels awful, like he’s going through a light rain of dirty sink water. Through the red mist, Ari catches sight of three figures.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“Funny, I was about to ask you something similar!”

Eventually, the mist clears and three monsters stand before boy and shadow, ready to pounce.

“M-monsters? I-inside the ghost?”

“Possessed beasts.”

Two of the three are giant frogs. They sit at half Ari’s height and stare up at the boy with wide, haunted white eyes. Their mouths are unnaturally wide and massive, possessing rows of neatly jagged teeth. The third hovers above the two frogs, swaying back and forth. To Ari’s surprise, it’s another, smaller ghost. This one is white however and looks more like a flying tadpole than a cloud. It wails with a forever open mouth, and long, noodley arms reach out for him.

“Minion! As the one true Evil King and Master of all ghosts, I command you to stop!”

Paying no mind to the talking shadow, the frogs leap forward in unison, mouths aimed for Ari’s legs. He yelps as he springs out of their way. Their mouths make violent snaps in the air where Ari was standing just a second before. He backs up and bumps into a barrel.

“Stan! What’s going on? Why aren’t they listening?!”

“King Stan, and I don’t know, slave! Perhaps my subjects have grown disobedient in my absence.”

The frogs are back on the prowl, inching their way closer to Ari. He thinks he can hear a croaky growl gurgling from deep within their throats. The ghost seems a little slower and more thoughtful with its movements. It floats towards Ari, but stretches its arms out as if to block possible escape routes.

WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?

“Stan! Do something!”

“Pesky frogs and tricky ghost, cease immediately, or I’ll get really angry!”

“BESIDES THAT!!!”

Ari makes another last minute dash, just as the frogs jump and the ghost tries to make a grab for him. He trips in the rush and hits the floor, his head violently smacking the hard stone.

“Slave! Be careful! If you die, I die, remember?!”

Ari sits up, his head pounding and spinning and his thoughts a scramble. His gaze falls on the three monsters again.

I-I can’t keep this up. I-I-I …

Still on the floor, Ari clumsily backs up until his hand touches something other than hard stone. He looks and finds a long, thick branch. He grabs it and brandishes it desperately.

“I’m going to die.”

“You better not!”

“I can’t believe this. I’m actually going to die.”

One of the frogs goes after Ari’s outstretched legs, its teeth sinking into his left calf. Ari screams.

“Burning devil!”

A blast of black flame leaps over Ari’s head and strikes the frog. It releases Ari’s leg with a high-pitched squeal, writhing on the ground. Ari hugs his bleeding, stinging leg and stares as the fires make quick work, dying out once the frog is nothing but a fine, black dust.

“Why didn’t you do that before?!”

“It’s very difficult to do in my current state!”

One frog down, one more and a ghost to go. Watching their amphibious associate perish seemed to make the other two more cautious. They keep their distance, eying Stan warily.

The frog bite burns and Ari hisses at the pain. Looking closer, through the diamond rips in his pant leg, he can see the curved line of punctures, oozing little rivers of blood. It looks nasty, but it’s not very deep. Ari stands up. Stick still in hand, he holds it out like a sword.

“Alright, King Stan, go ahead and toast the other two.”

“I can��t, slave.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I’m in a weakened state, remember? I can only do that once a day!”

“Once a day? You just did it twice!”

“The small one didn’t count!”

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Stan?!”

This time, the ghost comes for him. It swoops at Ari with a wailing roar, its stringy arms clawing at the air. As he watches the ghost come at him, something strange happens in Ari. It’s a surge of energy in his chest. The world suddenly goes slow and blurry.

“Stan?” he calls as the room bleeds more and more into itself, but there is no answer.

The smearing of the room intensifies until nothing around him is discernible. There is no Church basement, no ghost, no frog, not even an Evil King Stan. Even the stick is gone, his hands suddenly empty. It’s just a sea of swirling, messy color. Ari looks around frantically, but otherwise, stays stock-still lest any stray movement cause something even more bizarre to happen. Suddenly, despite the stillness, something even more bizarre does happen.

A shape suddenly makes itself defined out of the blurry mess. It appears before Ari as a dark rust stained iron gear, turning in midair. It’s about the size of a dinner plate with medium sized teeth, interlocked seemingly with nothing at all. It moves so painfully slow that Ari’s not even sure it’s moving. He looks around it, under it, over it, but nothing seems to be holding it up or causing it to rotate except its own gearish will.

Ari reaches out a curious hand and taps a finger against one stubby tooth. He shudders all over with the contact and it briefly occurs to him that this could be some kind of ghostly trick. But something bigger in him, something instinctual, something like a mysterious gut feeling tells him to not just touch it, but to take it.

He reaches up and wraps his hands over the edges. The iron is cold and the rust has roughed up the surface. He starts to pull and twist it in the opposite direction of its turn. If the tap before just produced a shudder, this feels like his whole body is being put through an earthquake. The gear resists, determined to continue its slow turn. Ari grips tighter and throws everything into that contrary twist.

And then the gear shatters.

“Oh,” says Ari stupidly.

The shards fade into nothing, but Ari’s hands adopt a strange, tingling glow.

“SLAVE!!!”

Ari looks up from his hands to find the world returned to high definition, including the ghost coming right at his face. Without thinking, Ari sweeps his hand upward to hit the ghost away, but then, the stick is back in his fist. And more than that, it glows a strange, eerie white. As it connects with the ghost, the white glow releases, turning a swat into a hefty punch. Ari can feel it - the satisfying follow-through of making a really good hit.

The strike sends the balloon like ghost flying across the room until it smacks into a far wall.

Ari stares at the stick still tightly gripped in his hands. The strange white glow hums up and down the length of it from his fists to the few remaining dying leaves on the branch’s tip.

“What was THAT, slave?!” King Stan frets behind him.

“I don’t know,” Ari mutters, partially to himself, “but I don’t think I can count myself as ‘ordinary people’ anymore.”

The simple, if obvious, statement inspires the boy to action. While the ghost and the frog are still stunned by his sudden not-so-ordinary abilities, Ari rushes the frog, the stick drawn back over one shoulder, ready for the strike.

“Overdrive!”

Ari spits the word out without thinking. Later, he’ll try to explain that he just said it in the heat of the moment or that Stan made him believe all strange powers had to have cool names in order to do them. Either way, with the utterance of that word, the white glow flares up into blinding waves rippling up and down the length of the simplistic weapon. Upon reaching the frog, Ari whips the stick in a brilliant arc, striking the monster across the face and scattering its body into a cloud of dust particles.

In a last ditch effort to get itself a bit of lunch, the wobbly, battered ghost picks itself up off the floor and drunkenly makes its way over to Ari, wailing as it goes.

“Destroy it, slave!”

Ari is way ahead of him. He runs towards the ghost and with another mighty, burning swing, he crashes the stick down upon the ghost’s round, tadpole head. Ari obliterates the monster.

All that’s left of the battle in the basement is a few drops of Ari’s blood and several curious piles of dust and ashes. In the silence that follows, the glow in Ari’s hands and in his weapon slowly dies away.

“Phew … that was odd … oh well, never mind! I showed that floor-scrubbing demon what happens when you turn against me!”

Ari looks over his shoulder, saying nothing, but launching a barrage of protest with his eyes. The small motion hits him with a wave of dizziness. His limbs suddenly feel very tired and ‘floaty.’

“Look, slave!”

Stan frantically gestures towards a dark corner of the basement, just behind the giant pipe. Though his vision feels off kilter, Ari can just make out a chest shaped object hidden back there. On numbing legs, Ari walks over and carefully climbs over the snaking pipe. Sure enough, the chest shaped object is in fact a chest.

“This must be the treasure that the old coot was talking about!”

“You’d think they’d be better about hiding something this important. I mean … this thing isn’t even locked.”

Ari kneels and gingerly lifts the lid, the old hinges whining in protest. The inside first strikes Ari as being overwhelmingly disappointing.

“It’s empty?!”

But a lump in the corner of the chest catches Ari’s weary eye.

“No, take a look at this.”

It’s a dusty, velvet black bag that makes a strange jingle and a glass clacking sound when Ari picks it up. Evil King Stan hovers heavily with treasure hungry anticipation.

“Open it, slave. Open it.”

Curious himself, Ari doesn’t hesitate to slip open the drawstring and reach inside.

“Slave, what is it? What new weapon or power has fallen into my terrible grasp?!”

“A glass tube, and … 14 sukel.”

“… what?”

“I think it’s about 14.” Ari flips the bag upside down to be sure. “Yep, 14 sukel and a glass tube. Why would they keep their spare change in here? It’s not even enough to buy a pound of beef from the butcher.”

“Focus, slave! Is the glass tube magical in some way? M-maybe it’s a piece from some horrible, world shattering device?”

Ari holds it up into the light and looks over it, turning it round to get a view of every angle. He even holds it up to his eye like a telescope.

“Pretty sure it’s just a glass tube.”

The evil king trembles in fury. It builds and builds until the paper-like Stan explodes in a gust whipped frenzy of flailing.

“They’ve tricked me! They will all pay for this! My wrath will know no end, boy!!!”

Ari is frankly too tired to be fazed. As the evil king flaps about, he remembers the valve. Ari feels like the string of a tornado caught kite, but with outraged Stan in tow, he makes his way along the pipe to where the valve sits covered in weeks old cobwebs.

Might as well fix this while we’re down here.

Ari grabs the valve and twists it, reminded immediately of the strange floating gear he accidentally shattered.

I suppose I should ask Stan about that … once he’s calmed down.

The valve gives in and begins turning, though it takes quite a bit of strength on Ari’s part.

Maybe it’s a shadow thing?

As the valve turns, Ari can suddenly hear the sounds of rushing water. And with it, comes a sudden rush of exhaustion.

Oh … oh, I think that did it.

Once Ari releases the valve, he falls to the ground.

“Slave?!” is the last thing he hears as a sweet, restful darkness overwhelms him.

#okage shadow king #osk #boku to maō #zener works #sony #sony entertainment #playstation 2 #playstation 4 #video games #jrpg #rpg #writing #writer #fanfiction #fanart #fanwork #fan novel

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okageshadowkingfannovel · 3 years

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Book 1: Chapter 8

After the sharp crack to the back of his head, Ari awakens to a view of his bedroom ceiling. He’s sprawled out across the bedroom floor though the sheets entangling one leg make a desperate attempt to keep at least some of him in the bed. His heart is still pounding and he feels a cold, clammy sweat drying across his skin.

A nightmare?

He untangles his leg from the bed sheets and gets up slowly. He aches all over, presumably from the fall. For some reason, he’s still wearing his clothes from yesterday. Maybe he got home so late after the circus, he just crashed? Or no, he missed the circus last night. His head feels so heavy, he can’t remember.

Ari rubs at his eyes, hoping that’ll clear up some of the fog still thickening up his thoughts and memories. As he changes his clothes, he tries to think through the nightmare that sent him tumbling out of bed. Not much comes back to him save for a feeling of dread deep down in his stomach.

Once changed, Ari leaves his room and heads downstairs. The house feels still and quiet. Ari guesses that his father’s already gone off to work, his mother’s probably already in the kitchen, and Annie’s doing whatever she does during the day. As predicted, when he steps into the kitchen, his mother is set to work wiping off the counters.

“Oh, good morning, Ari,” she says, looking over her shoulder to smile at him, “what’s wrong, honey? You look pale.”

“I-I had a nightmare … I think.”

“Oh, poor thing. Let me get you something for breakfast.”

“No thanks, Mom. I’m not really hungry.” The dread is taking up to much space.

“At least have a slice of bread.”

Not accepting another word, his mother pulls out the remaining bread from the bread box, cuts him a thick slice, and smears some butter over it. Ari takes it and has a bite to satisfy her.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You know, it’s such a beautiful day outside. It’s so peaceful here,” she says, sighing with pleasure, “forget about that dream and go have some fun in Tenel!”

Ari stuffs the rest of the bread into his mouth. Thinking it over, it probably would be good to get his mind off that disturbing dream. Mouth still full, he nods and smiles his thanks to his mother. Feeling hopeful and full of bread, Ari leaves the kitchen and walks through the foyer towards the front door. Stepping out, he’s greeted by sunshine, abundant, buttery sunshine, filling up the courtyard. A nice breeze blows through. The air still has the faintest hint of morning chill, but that sun feels warm on Ari’s skin. Stepping further out, he stretches his arms into the air, banishing the aches in his back and the worries on his mind.

Hmm. Well, it WAS a dream.

I am the same old ordinary boy.

What a relief!

That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

“Too bad!”

With a whistle, Ari’s shadow bursts out from under his feet, the surprise of it sending him to the ground.

“This is nothing but reality! You are the obedient servant of the Evil King Stan - forever!”

As Ari looks up into the yellow eyed, yellow mouthed face of Evil King Stan, the living shadow, his memories of the night before and even his nightmare come back to him. He stares slack jawed, as the weight of reality falls heavily upon his shoulders. He sold his soul to a freaky shadow so that his little sister wouldn’t be stuck speaking Pig Latin for the rest of her life.

“Hee hee hee. We’ll be together for a long while, boy. Get used to it! Ha ha ha ha!”

There’s that laugh - that horrible, ugly laugh.

Ari feels like he might throw up. Slowly, he picks himself up off the ground.

“Now, slave, firs-”

Ari starts running.

“What are you doing?!”

He runs around the courtyard, through the trees, doubles back, runs through the courtyard again, round the side of the house …

“Are you actually trying to run from your own shadow?”

Every time Ari looks over his shoulder, the dark shape of Evil King Stan is right there, just behind him, never growing distant, never losing ground. Eventually, his legs tire and Ari’s forced to stop his fruitless attempts. He doubles over panting, fresh drops of sweat forming on his neck.

“That may have been the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a human do, and I’ve met some pretty stupid humans. It’d be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.”

“This can’t be happening to me,” Ari whispers to himself, “it can’t. I’m just an ordinary boy. Things like this don’t happen to ordinary people.”

Before Ari can sink any further into a state of panicked denial, a small white whirlwind appears and James materializes.

“Good morning, Master!” he says giddily with a bow, “a lovely day, isn’t it? How about breakfast, Master? Madam’s omelet is simply divine!”

“James! We don’t have time for breakfast! From now on, I’ll use this boy and initiate my plan for world conquest! As I was about to explain …” Evil King Stan trails off for a second and Ari feels an accusing glare heating up the back of his head. “To begin, I’ll drive the nearby village of Tenel into an abyss of nightmarish horror! Ha ha ha ha!”

The butler’s jagged smile widens. “I’m so proud of you, Master Stan! So proud to be in your fiendish service!”

Sounds a bit vague to me, Ari thinks, wait, can he read my thoughts?

“Your James is always at your side with passionate devotion! Or at least …” James’ grandeur suddenly turns sheepish. “… after I finish my second omelet.”

With that, James quickly turns and walks straight through the wall of the mansion. Ari can hear the faintest sound of “good luck, Master” on the wind.

Ari wants to say something about the strangeness of King Stan’s devoted minion, but then he thinks saying it to an evil possessed shadow would be even stranger.

“Well, my reluctant servant, off to the village! Let us go, and no more of your human nonsense. I’ve no time for your mental breakdowns!”

Suddenly, King Stan melts back down into the ground and Ari’s shadow is just his shadow again. He stands there in silence for a moment, still reeling from the catch up of last night’s events and what just happened.

Maybe someone in town can help me.

Ari is still unclear on whether or not the shadow can read his thoughts, but he supposes it can’t be helped either way. He can’t walk about brain dead. He starts on his way down the path and, unable to break habit, stops by the three gravestones.

“Whoever you guys are, please pray for me …” he whimpers with hands folded.

He then heads towards the crossroads and Tenel, constantly mindful of the seemingly normal shadow at his feet. After the morning he’s had, he keeps expecting it to pop up all of a sudden, like some horrible jack-in-the-box.

“Hey Ari!”

Up ahead on the pathway, Ari finds a villager waiting for him. Ari’s seen him around Tenel, but has never talked to him much. He’s a beefy, tall man with a wide smile and curious eyes.

“Oh, g-good morning.”

“Ari, I heard you learned a funny trick,” says the man excitedly.

“Trick?”

“Everybody in the village is talking about it! Your dad is so excited. He’s told everyone!”

Suddenly, Ari hears that tell-tale whistle sound and feels that strange looming sensation behind him.

“Funny trick? What is that, mortal?”

Nervous sweat forms on the back of Ari’s neck as he eyes the large villager. The man stares at King Stan, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“Wow! That is amazing! Where’d you learn to do that, Ari?”

“Do? Do what now?”

“What is he talking about, slave? Humans perplex me sometimes.”

This only makes the man laugh. “Marvelous, Ari! You should consider joining the circus! You’d be a hit!”

“Uh … th-thanks?”

“Enough of this! Slave! The village!” Stan yells before disappearing.

“I understand,” says the man, still chuckling, “you must be very busy today.”

Ari nods and turns away to continue on down the path.

Maybe the village elder … He’s old and knows a lot. Maybe he can help me.

“Oh dear! What am I going to do?”

Ari looks up and sees an elderly woman at the crossroads staring into tops of the surrounding trees. She absentmindedly fiddles with her braid of long, silver hair, eyes filled with distress. As Ari gets closer, she turns to him and can’t help the tears slipping down her cheeks.

“Oh, young man! My hat’s blown away in the wind. It’s stuck up in that tree,” she cries, pointing into the tallest branches.

Ari barely catches sight of it in the swaying branches and dancing leaves, but sure enough, he sees a pale straw hat with a pink ribbon caught up in the tree’s clutches. He almost suggests going into Tenel to buy another hat, but the old woman cuts him off before he can start.

“It’s my favorite hat. My late husband bought it for me …” She trails off into wailing.

“Heh heh heh, whimpering old lady!”

Ari only jumps slightly when King Stan pops up behind him this time. It unnerves him that he might be getting used to it.

“What powerless animals human beings are! Slave, behold the power of your Evil Master!”

Ari looks over his shoulder and watches as the living shadow stretches itself up like pulled taffy, reaching up over their heads and easily plucking the lost hat from the branches.

“I am completely elastic! One advantage to being a shadow, I suppose. It’s a trivial task to retrieve your silly, lost hat! Behold!”

King Stan holds out the battered old hat to the woman on his pitchfork fingers. The old lady seems overwhelmed, staring wide-eyed at it. She takes it gingerly and places it back upon her head.

“Th-thank you. Thank you! Thank you so much!,” she says, a smile exploding across her tear stained face, “my goodness! You must have been sent straight from heaven!”

“Hey, old bag! You don’t understand! If I can so easily stretch myself in such a way, imagine what other horrible powers I must have. Think about what I might do to you and your pathetic little village! I am pure evil, through and through! Evil King Stan! The name says it all! Fear me! Beg for mercy! Kneel and grovel before me!”

Instead, the lady presses her hands together and bows her head. “Oh, thank you, God, for sending these kind people to help me in my time of need.”

“No! No, no, no!”

With a roar of frustration, “Evil” King Stan disappears.

“Well …” says Ari awkwardly as the lady continues to beam at him with gratitude, “I-I’ll be going now.”

“Take care, young man. Please thank your friend again for me.”

As Ari leaves, he wonders if the old woman’s vision is impaired. She didn’t seem at all freaked out by a living, talking, suddenly stretching, suddenly disappearing shadow. The open gates of Tenel come into sight and outside the entrance, a group of younger kids all stand huddled together, whispering. One of them, a skinny girl with brown hair, looks over and spots Ari coming down the path.

“Here he comes! Here he comes!”

Ari is beginning to notice a pattern. Strangely, this is the most attention Tenel has ever given him. Before he can slip by into the village, the three kids surround him, gazing up at him with bright, shiny eyes and expectant, gap toothed smiles.

“Hey there, Ari,” the trio sings in unnerving unison.

“We heard your shadow is really cool,” says the skinny brunette, “will you show it to us?”

“Please, please, please!” cries the other two - a finely dressed boy with primly cut blond hair and a much younger boy with a closely shaved head.

3 … 2 … 1.

“What is wrong with you?!”

The three children gasp.

“Omigod,” says the girl, “it speaks too?! Awesome! Is it alive?”

“Hey, girlie! What do you think I am?! I am the Evil King Stan, a symbol of incomprehensible evil!”

“Hey! It tells jokes too! I want one!”

The bald kid giggles wildly. “Yipee! The shadow! The funny shadow! I saw it! That’s so cool, Ari!”

“Shut up, small fry! Gaze upon my horrifying visage and fear it! Cry! Pee your pants!”

That only makes the trio laugh harder.

“Let me just say,” starts the finely dressed boy, after stifling his laughter, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shadow.”

“Don’t get fresh with me, you suckling! Do you know who you’re talking to?!”

“Ha ha, Ari’s father told us you’re a kind, gentle shadow.”

“What?!”

“I think it’s cute that he’s shy,” murmurs the skinny girl, “but you tell such good jokes, Mr. Shadow.”

“You wanna be our friend?” asks the youngest boy sweetly.

“No, you repugnant whelps! I am the Evil King Stan! I am no one’s friend! You’ll rue this day, small children!”

And once again, he disappears.

“Awwww, where’d he go?” asks the girl.

The three kids look at Ari pleadingly.

“Uh, he’s, um … resting. He’s not really used to … new people. And he’s cranky. I mean, you know how it is.”

The kids just stare at him silently for a beat, but then turn and wander on down the pathway.

“Why would a shadow need rest?” asks the littlest boy.

“I think it’s just shy. Ha ha,” answers the well dressed kid.

“Well, I like it,” exclaims the girl.

Once they disappear out of earshot, Evil King Stan pops up out of the ground beside Ari.

“Strange, strange,” he muses, yellow eyes narrowing into thin diamonds, “… based on my predictions, as soon I appear in this world, humans should be awed and terrified, fleeing in every direction. Then, overwhelmed and quaking with fright, they are supposed to swear their obedience to me!” Stan starts waving about angrily, like a kite caught in a strong wind. “But, but … Look at their reactions!”

Ari eyes the shadow, examining it and thinking.

“Are you sure you’re really … evil?”

King Stan stops flailing and glares down at Ari, towering himself over the boy.

“What?! A lackey like you making fun of me, your master?!”

Ari shrinks back. “Well … I mean, you haven’t really done anything evil yet.”

“Just you wait, boy. The only thing we have to do is display my evilness through action! I’ll show these humans what terror I can bring!”

King Stan turns towards the village and glares through the open gate.

“So, this is Tenel Village? This is it?”

Ari shrugs, unable to help himself. “This is it.”

“This is no task for I, a vessel of pure malevolence! But hey, I might as well do it! Ha ha! Now, how should I go about doing this?”

Ari considers himself to be pretty average when it comes to intelligence, but in the moment, he comes across a fairly decent idea.

“… what if … what if you speak to the village elder?”

“Is he in charge of this pathetic little plot of humanity?”

“Well … well, no. We have a village council. My dad’s assistant manager actually. But anyway, the village elder has a lot of respect in Tenel … a-and he knows a lot about the history of the world and stuff. So, if there’s anyone who is going to know about … about the utter horror and-and despair your presence is supposed to bring …”

“Ah, I see your point, slave! Strike fear into the heart of the village elder and the rest will fall like dominoes.”

“Sure …”

And I can ask the village elder about getting myself out of this mess.

“Good work, slave! You’ve become surprisingly cooperative.”

Ari chuckles nervously. “Yeah, well, I did … swear to be your … loyal, devoted servant for the rest of my life. Ha ha.”

“Ha ha! Yes! Now, forward, slave! Take me to the village elder!”

The shadow disappears and Ari practically flies through the village gates. The village elder lives in a large house neighboring the Church and the Tenel village office. He runs, passing bustling, worrying, chatting villagers and all the businesses with their water shortage signs. For once, he’s glad he’s not one to draw too much attention to himself. The village elder’s house is large, though not quite so mansion and behemoth like as the ‘Nameless Dwelling.’ Impressive, but cozy seems the best way to describe it. Ari runs up and knocks, and then, uses the wait to catch his breath.

The door opens and a pretty young woman with mousy brown hair looks down at him. She’s the village elder’s daughter.

“Oh, Ari, so nice to see you. What can I do for you?”

“I … I need to see the village elder … please,” he says, still panting. Tenel’s not a large village, but he still ran at top speed. “It’s urgent.”

“Are you ok? I’d offer you some water, but …” She trails off sadly.

“No, no, I’m fine.”

“It’s a shame. I don’t even have water to clean house. Come on in. Please forgive the state of the place.”

She turns and leads Ari inside.

“Grandfather’s just up in his study,” she explains as they begin a trek up a set of stairs, “he’s trying to figure out the ghost problem.”

Ari pauses mid-step. “Ghost problem?”

“You haven’t heard? There’s a ghost in the Church.”

A shiver runs up Ari’s spine. So many questions flood his mind, he’s not sure what to ask first.

“How- … I mean … what-”

“Nobody knows how it got in there,” she supplies, “but supposedly, it’s been there for weeks, and that’s why the Church has been closed.”

“Does that mean … does that mean the village council knew about it?”

“Yes. They kept it hush-hush so as not to cause a panic, I guess. But I think everyone found closing the Church pretty suspicious anyway.”

Ari follows her to the door of her grandfather’s study. She knocks softly.

“Grandfather, you have a visitor.”

“Who?” comes a slightly annoyed bark through the door.

“It’s Ari. He says it’s urgent.”

There’s a brief pause.

“Who?!”

She sighs and opens the door.

“I said it’s Ari!” She gestures to the boy sheepishly peeking into the doorway.

Ari’s only ever been in to see the elder a few times. Most of the important village information comes from his father, but every so often there’s a matter that only a village elder can solve.

The village elder is a no-nonsense, but welcoming old gentleman. His mouth is hidden behind a thick, white mustache and his eyes are hidden behind thick, white eyebrows. He wears Tenel’s traditional clothing, a silk jacket in orange and green blocks with fancy embroidery for ties, and a matching cap. He sits at his desk, mountains of books caging him in.

“Oh, Ari,” he says pleasantly, standing up, but unable to leave his literary prison, “come in, come in.”

Ari steps inside and the elder’s granddaughter shuts the door behind him.

“Good morning, sir, I-I’m sorry to bother you, bu-”

“Bother? No, no! The only thing bothering me at the moment is the ghost problem. It’s most concerning.”

“If he’s concerned now, just wait til he meets me, heh heh heh,” King Stan whispers from … wherever he goes when he’s not around.

“Yeah … yeah, your granddaughter just told me about it … I didn’t know …”

“You don’t know the half of it,” says the elder, slapping the open page of the book in front of him, “do you know about the Evil King?”

Ari’s heart jumps. “Um … well, actually, ye-”

“The Evil King is the ruler of the ghosts. They all are his evil minions. He is a fearful King of Terror!”

“Yes! YES! This one understands!”

“300 years ago, an Evil King called Gohma destroyed half the world.”

“I-I know, bu-”

“But a hero called Hopkins defeated Gohma after a pitched battle. Since then, the world’s been peaceful.”

“H-Hopkins?”

“But lately, there are rumors that ghosts have been sighted. And of course, we have the ghost currently haunting the Church … it might be that a new Evil King has arisen.”

“Mwa ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha!” a laugh echoes throughout the study.

“Hmm? What was that?” asks the old man, standing up and looking curiously around the room.

“Prepare yourself, old man!” The voice grows louder, meaner, more menacing. “For your nightmare has just become reality!”

“Ari, what is this?”

“Oh-oh no …”

Suddenly, Evil King Stan pops up from the ground behind Ari, puffing himself up so that he reaches the ceiling, looking down upon the poor old man at his desk.

“The Evil King has indeed arisen!” thunders King Stan, his voice booming, “I am Evil King Stanley Hihat Trinidad XIV, the reincarnation and successor of King Gohma! I have been freed and the world shall quake at the very sound of my name! Fall to your knees and beg for mercy lest you be overwhelmed by my diabolicalness!”

The study falls into silence as the village elder gapes up at the shadow looming over him. Ari damns himself, wishing he had asked his questions before the elder launched into his history lesson.

“Ha ha,” the village elder suddenly chuckles.

Ari stares at him, not sure he heard correctly.

“Ha ha ha,” the elder carries on, “cute trick.”

“WHAT?!”

“But seriously, Ari, an Evil King is a fearful, terrifying creature. So terrifying that … that any ordinary people like us would drop dead just looking at it! That flimsy, flat shadow? It could never pass as an Evil King. It’s funny, Ari, but you might want to work on the act a bit. Ha ha, ‘overwhelmed by my diabolicalness.’ That’s rich!”

Ari looks over his shoulder at King Stan to see him shrinking and looking distressed.

“I hate this village!” he roars before disappearing into the floor.

“Anyway,” continues the elder, “I pray the Evil King rumors are just that … but we still have the reality of the ghost haunting the church …” he trails off in thought.

“Sir,” Ari asserts himself before some other bit of monologue can begin, “um … hypothetically speaking … if the Evil King did rise, and let’s say … he was so weak that he needed to possess the shadow of someone who promised away their entire life … um, how would one go about defeating the Evil King?”

The village elder rubs at his chin, seeming to give the matter serious thought. “You said the Evil King is so weak he must essentially leech off a human being?”

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

“Well, the answer’s rather obvious.”

Ari perks up, a bubble of hope rising in his chest. “Really?”

“He’d probably have to kill himself.”

Pop! There goes the hope bubble.

“K-kill himself?”

“I mean, if the Evil King depends on a host to exist in this world … you kill the host.”

“O-oh … and-and there’s no other way?”

“Well, I suppose if the person were reluctant to take his own life … you could hire a hero to kill him. It’d be for the safety of the entire world, so a genuine hero would be all too ready to make such a sacrifice.”

“I see … and there’s no other way besides killing the person?”

“I mean, this is all hypothetical, Ari. But in my opinion, killing the host would be the surest way to prevent the Evil King from regaining his strength and plunging the world into a nightmarish new age of terror and chaos.”

That’s it, then, Ari thinks, I’m doomed.

“Thank you for your time, sir. I hope you get the ghost problem figured out.”

“I hope so too - especially since that’s probably what’s messing with the village’s waterways, causing the water shortage … and of course, there’s the village treasure to consider.”

“Treasure?” Ari asks flatly, still feeling numb from the elder’s “solution.”

“Not even I’m entirely sure what it is. The only reason we know it exists is from some ancient inventories and writings. It’s written that it’s something very important. Most believe that if we were to ever lose it, the village would be lost.”

“Oh …”

“Well, Ari, I’m afraid I must bid you good-day if there’s nothing else. I’m sure there’s an answer in here somewhere,” says the village elder as he buries his nose back into the pages of the open book.

With the conversation clearly coming to a close, Ari turns round and leaves the study. The village elder’s granddaughter is nowhere in sight. He sulks back down the stairs and lets himself out into the sunshine and the noise of a village worrying about its ghost problem. Unsure of what else to do, Ari walks a little ways and finds a clear, out of the way little spot between houses. There, he sits down in the dirt, and does absolutely nothing.

“Slave! Did you hear what that old fool said about treasure?!” King Stan pops up excitedly out of the ground before Ari.

Ari doesn’t respond. He’s found a particularly interesting patch of grass and has started plucking out the blades.

“We’re in business! We’ll get the treasure of Tenel and laugh as they all wallow in misery! He he he! If it’s indeed an important treasure, it must be something very powerful! Perhaps it can enhance my already substantial abilities. I’ll be unstoppable, slave! Then, they’ll have to submit to me!”

Again, Ari says nothing.

“Oh, by the way, slave, what was all that ‘hypothetical stopping an Evil King’ business?”

It takes a minute for Ari to register the glare of suspicion bearing down upon him.

“Huh? Oh - OH! Well, uh, I just figured … you know, to be … successful, we gotta … know your weaknesses - I mean, what little there are - so that we are … prepared?”

King Stan stares at him for an awkward beat, but then nods emphatically.

“True, slave, this is good thinking. As idiotic as he is, the old man was right about one thing.” The shadow points a sharp finger at Ari. “You are my greatest weakness. If you perish, I will have nowhere to go and thus, will disappear into nothingness. A tragic, pathetic end to what should be my great and terrible reign!”

“Exactly,” says Ari glumly, his shoulders drooping.

“So no dying!”

“I’ll try my best,” he replies, sighing heavily.

“Now, back to the matter at hand. We must get into the church basement and plunder that treasure!”

“But the church has been closed for weeks.”

“That’s where you come in, slave! I command you to figure out a way to get into that church!”

For a moment, Ari stays in his place on the ground.

What would happen if I just didn’t do anything? He’d be stuck, right? He’d have to move on to somebody else, right?

“Slave! Don’t just sit there! Get to it!”

“Hey Ari! Hey Stan!”

Boy and shadow pause from their exchange and look to see Annie standing there and smiling. Immediately, Ari’s eyes fall to the vibrant pink shadow puddling out across the ground. Despite this, Annie seems oddly happy and upbeat. She beams at the two of them.

“St-Stan? Do you forget who I am, little girl? I am an Evil King! How dare you address me without a title?!”

Annie pouts playfully. “Oh, come on, Stan! We’re all friends now. Besides, Evil King Stan is such a mouthful. It’s annoying to have to say it all the time.”

“Slave, talk some sense into her!”

“You’re not upset about your shadow anymore, Annie?”

She looks down at it fondly, picking a dainty foot up to see her pink silhouette mimic the action.

“Not anymore. Everyone keeps telling me how cute it looks! All the boys are noticing me, saying it makes me look even more feminine!”

Ari chuckles. It figures she’d work this out to her advantage. Typical Annie.

“I’m glad.”

“Stop this! I am not anyone’s friend! Slave, we are wasting precious time!”

“What’s Stan going on about?” asks Annie, tilting her head cutely with curiosity.

“King Stan! King!”

Ari hesitates to answer, but …

“He wants to get into the church basement.”

“Oh!” Annie exclaims, “is he going to fight the ghost?”

Ari and Stan exchange looks.

“Fight the lowly whelp haunting the church …” The king muses to himself.

“I’m sure if you ask dad, he’ll let you in.”

“What?”

Ari and Stan exclaim in unison.

“Yeah,” Annie says, clapping her hands, “I’m surprised dad didn’t ask you sooner, Stan! You cured me of the Pig Latin curse. Of course, you can rid the Church of the ghost!”

“Of-of course, I can. Yes. YES! Brilliant, Ari’s sister! Yes! Slave!”

Ari looks up at Stan, another stone of dread added to the pile building up in his stomach.

“Let us go find your father! We shall tell him of our plan to … rid the Church of this low level ghost.” For some reason, Stan feels the need to wink obviously. “Perhaps he will let us in to assist the town.”

Ari swallows nervously. He was hoping the village office restriction on the Church would be a road block for Stan’s plan. Unfortunately, Annie just came in like a wrecking ball and demolished that road block. Stan may have abundant confidence in facing off with low level phantoms, but Ari … not so much.

“Um … King Stan, remember that thing we said a minute ago … about the ‘me not dying’ part?”

“Worry not, my cowardly slave …”

Ari thinks that was unnecessary.

“… I am the King of Ghosts, remember? If I just look at that pathetic glob of ectoplasm, it’ll go running off back to the underworld or whatever dimension it slithered out from.”

Surprisingly, this gives Ari just the barest taste of reassurance. True, humans around Tenel didn’t take Stan seriously, but a ghost should be a different story.

Right?

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