Chapter 174 (Book 4 Chapter 51 - Epilogue) (Patreon)

Author's Note:

I'll be busy Christmas weekend, so the next update will be on December 29th.

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With curious eyes, King Elnaril of the Harpies stared at the open book resting below him. He carefully laid a finger onto its pages, retracing his steps over peaks and valleys of letters. One word stood out, like an arcane inscription taunting him with secrets yet untold. "Ab...ab...d..."

He paused, piecing the word together via syllables, as he'd done so many times before. A and b made 'Ab'. D and i made 'Di'. C and a made 'Ca'. T and e made 'Te'. "Ab...di...ca...te." Four syllables.

A thought twinged from the corner of his mind. No, it said. That's wrong. Elnaril concentrated, sifting through his memories like pages in a book, realizing that 'cate' was one syllable, not two. He couldn't fathom why, but that was how the people of these lands pronounced it, and who was he to argue?

"Ab...di...cate. Abdicate." Satisfied, Elnaril bookmarked his place in the dictionary and closed it tight. Another phrase added to his repertoire – albeit one he'd never use – was still cause for celebration.

He smiled, folding his hands in his lap. Words were such difficult little oddities to comprehend, yet the joy of learning them far outpaced any frustration his studies induced. Everyone needs a hobby, his memories told him, before sinking back into darkness.

"Reading again?" a fond voice asked. Elnaril turned his head to find a Harpy standing in the doorway to his personal quarters. The Harpy was of ordinary height and frame, except for his ashen-white, feathered wings, which stretched several inches longer than average when fully extended. Everything about the Harpy's appearance, from his well-tailored clothing to his disarming grin, was crafted to exude an aura of trustworthy competence.

As Elnaril stared at the Harpy, his memories stirred. Desalis, they provided. Faithful Desalis. Kindly Desalis. Earnest Desalis. Based on what Elnaril had experienced in the past five or so years, his memories spoke the truth. This Harpy visited him at noon every day, without fail, often staying for hours at a time. Elnaril prodded his memories for more information, but they slank away, recoiling from the touch.

"My King?" Desalis sprang forward, flapping his wings once for momentum. He grabbed Elnaril's shoulders in a tight, desperate grip. "Do you recognize me?"

A part of him did, but Elnaril wasn't sure how to phrase that sentiment. Some of the meaning would be lost in the telling. After seconds passed without an answer, Desalis released him and backed away, his burgeoning hope snuffed out like a candle under a gust of ill wind. "That's alright," he said, his voice straining with false cheer. "There's light in your eyes, now. Progress. It's...it's progress."

Desalis inhaled deeply, then exhaled, drawing strength from a waning reservoir. "How are you on this fine day, my King?" he asked, all smiles. "I hope the weather suits you well."

Elnaril picked up his dictionary and opened up to its bookmarked page. "New...word," he explained, with some measure of excitement. "Abdi...cate."

The word inspired a mess of conflicting emotions on Desalis' face. He turned away, keeping silent for a solid minute. When he turned around again, the smiles had returned. "I'd like to try something new today," Desalis began, taking a seat in front of Elnaril. "The physicians believe that stimulating your thought processes has been beneficial thus far. Therefore..."

Desalis produced a sheaf of papers from his traveling pack. "It took some pestering, but the Assembly has agreed to hear your input on certain matters of importance. What I have here is a list of issues that must be resolved soon. We've simplified each issue to one of two possible solutions. All you need do is point to the answer which you deem to be correct. How does that sound?"

He hesitated. "Do you understand what I'm asking, my King?"

Leader makes decisions, the memories said. Elnaril nodded; he was familiar with the concept, at least.

"Marvelous!" Desalis' expression brightened. "Then let us begin." He placed two individual sheets of paper on the table, one next to the other. "To start with, there's the Dragon Queen's rampage in the Elven territories. She's attempted to frame it as the work of Blightspawn, but anyone with a modicum of sense can deduce who the true culprit is. Some members of the Assembly wish to censure her depravity, while others advocate for caution, claiming that it would be foolhardy to invite the Queen's wrath. Which do you believe is the right course of action, my King?"


Protect our people. Elnaril followed the memory's urging, tapping the leftmost paper that represented caution.

"Excellent choice," Desalis remarked, as he retrieved the papers. "The Assembly will be pleased. Most of them already..."

He froze. "Pay me no mind," the Harpy chuckled, pulling more papers out of his pack. "Just the odd ramblings of a tired soul."

Elnaril didn't require the memory's assistance to surmise what Desalis had been about to say. Most of the Assembly already elected to take the cautious route, and so Elnaril's approval wasn't strictly necessary. It was unlikely that any ruling the Harpy King made would sway their decisions one way or another.

When taken to its natural conclusion, this meant that the main reason they'd approved of these exercises wasn't to assist the King's progress or glean his input, but instead to measure his faculties. Answering correctly too often might actually be dangerous, as it could indicate that his cognition was starting to improve. Covetous Assemblagers would be hiring assassins to visit him nightly. Not everyone desired for their King's return, after all.

The memories were horrified at Elnaril's theories, but he didn't really care whether he was right or wrong. None of it would matter by the end of today.

"Moving on to the next topic," Desalis said, placing two sheets of paper on the table. "Our Spies within Elven territory and Dwarven territory have confirmed that the Human is alive, well, and allied with the Fiends. If that weren't enough, his Level also appears to be growing at a nonsensical rate. We estimate that he may have reached the high 60s as of now."

At that, a small laugh escaped Elnaril's throat. Desalis gasped, waiting for his King to say more, before slowly realizing that nothing else was forthcoming. "The Assembly is torn on how to regard this anomaly," Desalis continued, hiding his disappointment well. "If left unchecked, he could become a bigger threat than the Blight, or even the Dragon Queen herself. We are unsure if Harpy territory should ally with or against the Human once we make contact with him. Which do you believe is the right course of action, my King?"

Elnaril possessed his own strong opinions on that particular subject, but he chose to answer as the memories would have. Odds are better, it supplied. While the Human might eventually succumb to Leveling High and seek to kill them all, he'd still be easier to subdue than the Dragon Queen, who would assuredly succumb to her own brand of insanity in the imminent future. It was a simple risk analysis.

Which was why Elnaril was surprised when, after tapping the page that represented allying with the Human, Desalis briefly grimaced. "Thank you for your input, my King," the Harpy said, retrieving his papers. He paused, considering how much to say. "Truth be told, the Assembly feels that allying with the Human would rouse Queen Ragnavi's ire. If we are to avoid censuring her slaughter of Elves, then we must also eschew policies with a chance of antagonizing her. There's no benefit to be gained from half-measures."

Not necessarily. The Memories would have avoided censuring Ragnavi, then allied with the Human and Seneschal Sylpeiros in secret, thereby preventing Ragnavi from noticing the noose tightening around her neck until it was too late. Apparently, however, the Assembly had already whispered in Desalis' ears and convinced him of what the 'correct' path forward was. Thus, his disappointment at Elnaril selecting the 'incorrect' path.

Faithful, kindly, and earnest. Elnaril sensed no guile in Desalis' disappointment. More than anyone else in Harpy territory, he wished for his King to make a swift recovery.

Their back-and-forth continued for some time. Elnaril chose some options that Desalis had hoped for, and some options that he hadn't. The Memories and Desalis grew equally despondent, largely owing to a lack of communication. How was Desalis to know that Elnaril refused to support a certain member of the Assembly because the featherless bastard was secretly embezzling territory funds? Only the memories knew of that fact. Alas, words were difficult little oddities, and expressing them was always so taxing.

"I suppose that's all for now," Desalis eventually said, offering Elnaril a tenuous smile as he stowed his papers away. "I'll see you tomorrow, my King."

Elnaril nodded mutely in response. Desalis made to go, then stopped, abruptly flopping back into his chair. "I wonder if tomorrow will ever truly come," the Harpy said, with a bitter chuckle. "It's been like this for years now. Perhaps the progress I claim to see is a delusion of the self."

Desalis dragged a taloned hand over his face. He sank further into his chair, defeat spreading through his posture. "I used to hate you," the Harpy admitted, with an air of someone who just didn't care anymore. "You weren't the Dragon Queen, I'll grant you that, but that's a rather low standard to aspire to. I'd resolved myself to wait out your lifespan, praying to Zephyria that the next Leader in Harpy territory wasn't such an arrogant prick."

As if against their will, Desalis' lips crept up into another smile. "Then came the war and the Cataclysm. People say that times of tribulation are what reveal a man's true character, and you proved that adage single-handedly. Once you realized that Harpy territory was in actual danger, that you couldn't simply fly through life doing whatever you wanted, things changed."

He snorted. "Still a prick, but one that tried to put his people before himself. That was enough for me. I swore a vow then and there – as long as you did right by Harpy territory, I'd stay loyal until your dying days."

Seconds passed in silence, Desalis waiting for an affirmation that would never come. The Harpy craned his head to the side, staring wistfully at Elnaril's blank expression. "What happened to you, my King? Where has your mind gone?"

Something pinged on the edges of Elnaril's senses, shifting his expression by a hair. Desalis was too engrossed in his own introspection to notice. "I just..." the Harpy clenched his fists. "I just wish that I knew my efforts weren't in vain. That what I'm doing is helping you. If you're in there, my King, then please. Give me an indication that the man I once knew still lingers."

Elnaril carefully considered the request. It was about time, anyway, and Desalis deserved a reward for his loyalty. As the memories trembled, Elnaril turned to face Desalis, drawing a harsh breath from the Harpy. Words were difficult little oddities, but he'd prepared the ones necessary for this moment well in advance.

"I...am not...your King."

Elnaril's torso split open, revealing a maw of blackened Corruption within. Tendrils shot out and wrapped around Desalis' limbs like fleshy manacles. The Harpy screamed as he was dragged inside, wings beating frantically before they were snapped in half. First his feet disappeared into the void, then his legs, then everything.

The maw closed with a crunch of meat and bone. Faithful Desalis, Elnaril thought, as he chewed. Kindly Desalis. Earnest Desalis.

Delicious Desalis.

Elnaril cracked the Harpy's soul like an egg, devouring his fears and supping from the marrow of his dreams. They flowed unceasingly into Elnaril's being, the sweetest of all nectars. The memories wept, unable to do anything but watch as their most ardent supporter in the world was consumed.

It was over in moments. The only thing that remained of Desalis was a smattering of feathers on the floor, and the supreme sense of satisfaction in Elnaril's heart.

After years of holding back, it felt wonderful to finally indulge.

Would any of my kind have been capable of the same restraint? he wondered. One fragment of the #*@$&@#()*$ within Dhalerune Mines had directly stated that, to them, delayed gratification was the ultimate insanity. To live without revelry was anathema. And in the past, Elnaril knew that he would have wholeheartedly agreed.

But that was before his fragment infected that first Harpy years ago. Back then, he'd been too weak and insignificant to do anything except ride along like a microscopic parasite. Elnaril – although he did not yet possess a name – had bided his time, spreading from Harpy to Harpy, working his way up the social food chain until he reached their Leader. He'd spent the better part of a decade supplanting the King's mind, stealing slivers of autonomy piece by piece, acting so gradually that his host didn't realize anything was amiss.

Until there was nothing left of the Harpy King except a half-aware lump of memories.

Admittedly, the process had been a double-edged sword. Elnaril spent so many years immersed in Elnaril's subconscious that he'd adopted some of the Harpy's characteristics. It was hard not to think of himself as himself, separate from the whole, with a name to call his own. He was no longer a pure #*@$&@#()*$, no longer a creature of infinity, having become something more, or lesser.

Elnaril walked to a window at the edge of his room, peering out into the city below. As he watched the Harpies go about their day, ignorant of what was to come, his mouth began to salivate with anticipation. Perhaps he wasn't pure anymore, but that was fine. Elnaril didn't mind what he'd become.

Delayed gratification opened up so many possibilities.

BEGIN, he commanded.

Five seconds went by. Then, like a thunderclap on a cloudless day, screams started to resound. Elnaril's lips stretched into a facsimile of a smile as he watched Harpies clinging to their fragile existences, shrieking in terror, already crying out for a savior. The revelry had commenced.

And just as importantly, the bell had been tolled.

"See you...soon...Rob."

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That's it for Book 4! 210k words total. The series is getting dangerously close to a million freaking words. It boggles my mind that so many people have read that much, and I'm truly grateful for all of your support.

Considering we're this far into the series (and that Rob just hit Level 80 out of 99), some of you are probably wonder how much is left. Here's a quick breakdown of what to expect moving forward:

1. The series will end on Book 6. It was going to end on Book 5, but after seeing how much material I have left to cover, I've decided to quit fooling myself and expect it to take two more books. Did you know that this series was original supposed to be a trilogy? And that Book 4's planned, detailed outline was originally 39 Chapters? I've become a fantasy author stereotype.

2. I'll be taking a break to plan out Book 5 and 6 simultaneously to make sure that all the details are in order. In the interim, I'll also be posting a second Side Story, once again co-written by Rafael Kalleen. It's currently 11-12 chapters in its outline...we'll see what happens there.

3. There's also several other projects coming up in the future! All related to Outcast. It's unfortunately too early to announce any of them, but I'm really looking forward to them, so I can't help but share a bit of my hype with everyone.

That's all for now. I'll keep you posted on any future developments. And, as always, thanks so much for reading.