The Human From a Dungeon 53 (Patreon)

Chapter 53

Horth

Adventurer Level: N/A

Bone Fae King - Deepwyld Forest

I watched with anticipation as the dust from our attacks began to clear. A convenient gust of wind helped speed things along, and soon Basinoth and I were able to meet each other's eyes. Spears of bone and blood impaled the ground around us. We simultaneously slouched as we realized that we had once again remained unscathed by each other's attacks.

"Bah," Basinoth said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm willing to call it a draw if you are. We can drain each other's magic and come no closer to a final decision."

"You are most likely correct," I admitted. "Fine, a draw it is. Again. I suppose we'll both take part in the hearing."

"THANK THE HIGH ONES!" A shrill voice shouted from beneath a toppled tree. "A LITTLE HELP, PLEASE!"

Basinoth and I shared a look of exasperation. The both of us had warned the King of Bone Fairies against spectating our battle. I walked over to the tree and lifted it, allowing Hul to escape it's crushing embrace. It wasted no time taking to the air, and hovered a few inches from my face.

"Why must your battles be so destructive?" Hul demanded, gesturing to the new clearing that had formed within the forest. "Can't you play stone, leather, dagger instead?"

"Even if we did, we would always select the same option," I explained. "Consider this a demonstration of our frustration. Venting, as it were."

"Surely there are less destructive ways to vent the frustrations built up from your impotent rivalry. Perhaps I'll obtain a coin from a mortal and you can use that, instead."

"We have tried games of chance, Hul," Basinoth said. "Dice will land cocked and coins will land upon their sides. The High Ones have decided that we are to be equally matched, and they seem to take some sadistic satisfaction in forcing the impossible to happen in making certain we remain that way."

"The forest will heal, Hul, and I've heard enough chatter," I interrupted. "Let us be off, Basinoth. I detest tardiness and wish to set an example for our peers."

"Right. Let's go. I wish to see the mortals that made an arch-fae," Hul grinned.

"No. You lost your fight against Yilf," Basinoth pointed out. "You do not have the right to attend the hearing."

"I'm not going to attend, I'm just going to watch. I heard that one of the mortals is strange. Neither elf nor orc nor dwarf nor... Uh... Any of the other races. It's got flat ears!"

"As if we want to listen to you prattle on for the entire journey. Travel separately, if you must watch the hearing."

"I don't wanna travel alone! Come on, I'll be quiet. Please?"

"Be quiet?" I asked, my jawbone contorting to form a grin. "Is such a feat even possible for a Tooth Fairy?"

"How DARE you!?" Hul demanded, puffing up in anger. "I expect such slurs from blood fae, even other fairies, but YOU? I'll have you know that I collect much more than just teeth! Finger bones, feet bones, even the little bones in ears!"

"Oh?" My grin widened. "And exactly how many of these bones do you currently have in your collection?"

Hul's eyes narrowed at me, and Basinoth began to laugh. It is common knowledge that the King of Bone Fairies prefers bargaining to violence, and teeth are the only bones that mortals are somewhat willing to part with. Especially the temporary teeth of the young. I began to walk and Hul hurried after me indignantly, muttering obscenities under its breath.

Basinoth and I made our way toward the tree of life as Hul began ranting about the unfairness of my question. Whenever the raving began to die down, one of us would laugh and it would cause it to begin anew. The distance was vast, though, and eventually Hul forgot about my insult.

"So... why are the two of you evenly matched to begin with?" Hul asked. "It seems like a fairly arbitrary thing for the High Ones to desire, let alone enforce."

"It is because I am the embodiment of life and Horth is the embodiment of death," Basinoth explained. "We are destined to rage against each other, yet neither can claim victory over the other. Not while we actually exist, at any rate."

"That doesn't make sense. If a living being became immortal, they'd be immune to death, right? So life would continue to exist, wouldn't it?"

"Wrong," I answered with a chattering chuckle. "There is no such thing as true immortality among the living. Even if there were, the very act of becoming immortal wrenches them from the chains of life, and one cannot call such a being 'living'. Even if that weren't the case, death would still have the last laugh at their expense. The very world upon which we tread will one day die, and where will they be then?"

"They will be left desperately praying for death to whomever will listen," Basinoth said. "Mortals are such fleeting things, and their longing for immortality only serves to prove this. If they were allowed to mature for a few thousand years, they would realize the folly of such desires."

"Hmm... Do you think we'll want to die one day?"

"Because of this conversation, I already do," I clicked my teeth in laughter.

"Oh, come on! Seriously though, we're immortal, aren't we?"

"No, we aren't," I answered. "We are able to perish. While it's true that the cycle of fairness allows us to retake physical form if that happens, we lose who we are in the process. Death is not simply a loss of one's body, it is a loss of being."

The King of Bone Fairies contemplated silently while the King of Blood Fae studied me with pursed lips as we walked. I met their gaze and tilted my skull in a silent query.

"Are you going to get dressed?" Basinoth asked. "You look like a naked lich."

I looked down and realized I had not yet applied flesh to my form. With a sigh, I began the process of covering my wonderful skeleton with mediocre, and completely cosmetic, meat. Nearly all beings find my true physical appearance threatening, or otherwise disturbing. Long ago, a mortal pointed out to me that this must make me lonely. I wholeheartedly agreed and replied that was the point. I prefer solitude.

Once the bloodless tissue had bonded and tightened to my precious bones, I looked back at Basinoth.

"Is this adequate?" I asked.

"Going for the androgenous look?" Basinoth replied, pointing at my chest.

I looked down again and noticed that it looked as if I had a singular feminine breast. I sighed again, summoning a small bone spear and stabbing the inflated skin. It hissed as the air left it and reformed in a more masculine manner.

"That looks good," Hul said. "Still need actual clothes, though."

"It's never enough for you fleshy ones," I complained. "First you cover your bones with meat, then you cover the meat with cloth, and sometimes you even cover the cloth with metal! Where does it end?"

"At the armor," Basinoth laughed.

I scoffed as I donned my coverings. The cloth was a simple tunic and pants made of various plants suited for the purpose, and the armor was similar in shape to Basinoth's, but made of bone instead of indurated blood. Once I was fully dressed, I made an exaggerated gesture to my outfit. Both of the other Kings nodded their approval, and we continued on our trek.

Before long we came upon the Clearing of Life, and to my surprise, we weren't the first to arrive. Algebrun and Tits had managed to find and bring the mortals, and the lot of them were sitting patiently. Yilf was also already seated, casually watching our approach. I detected Tamithi's presence, but they were hiding in some foliage at the edge of a clearing. I gestured at the King of the Sprites, and Hul took my meaning and joined them.

Basinoth and I made for our seats, but Algebrun stopped us with a raised hand. He nodded at the mortals, two orcs and the much discussed human, and they rose. The human looked exactly like the arch-fae had described him, but slightly more road-worn.

"Horth, King of the Bone Fae and Basinoth, King of the Blood Fae," Algebrun said, then gestured to the mortals. "May I introduce Yulk, Nash, and Nick of Clan Alta?"

Basinoth and I shared a glance, surprised by the fame of the familial name.

"Clan Alta, eh?" Basinoth asked. "I'm fairly certain that I owe one of your ancestors some comeuppance. A member of Clan Alta, an orc about your size and shape, challenged me to a duel about fifty years back. They used a bit of trickery to secure the win, and as their prize they took my a-"

I suppressed a laugh as I noticed what had given Basinoth pause. The King of Blood Fae was staring at the belt of the orc known as Nash, upon which rested a serrated battle-axe. I recognized it immediately.

"My axe," Basinoth finished their sentence. "Pray tell, Nash of Clan Alta, how did you come about ownership of Bone Biter?"

The orc's eyes widened as he instinctively reached for the axe. Instead of drawing it, which would have been a fatal mistake, he ran his hand over it.

"I bought it from the Adventurer's Guild," he explained. "My father owned one that was almost just like it."

Basinoth and I looked closer at the axe. It was very similar, but contained much more iron than Bone-Biter could have. Even though the extra iron makes it a more effective weapon against me, Basinoth would be unable to safely wield it. We exchanged a look.

"I see," Basinoth laughed. "A near-perfect replica. Does your father still have the original? I'll gladly face him again for the chance to regain it. Though... he's likely getting on in years, so perhaps we should do a battle of wits, instead."

"My apologies," Nash bowed his head slightly. "My father is long dead, and he was buried with the axe. It was his most cherished weapon."

"I see. You have my condolences. It fills me with a bittersweet happiness to know that he enjoyed my axe so much."

"Basinoth had it made specifically to give them an edge against me," I explained. "Then he immediately lost it to your father."

"That's true. I retrieved the weapon and ran into your father on my way to challenge Horth. I was unaware that your father had been 'living wild', as he put it, and agreed to face him for the axe. If I had won, I would have gained his blood, but I fell into one of the traps he had set to catch food for the night. As a result, he took the victory and my axe," Basinoth sighed. "And to top it off, the smith that crafted it was hit by a falling star before I could ask them to make another. They were reborn, of course, but lost all memory of how to fashion metals."

"Divine intervention," I nodded. "That's what you get for trying to surpass me."

The mortal's eyes widened in horror at our little exchange, except for the sorcerer named Yulk. His eyes remained calm and collected, as if he wasn't the least bit surprised to hear anything that was being said. I found this curious, but before I could ask him anything, Basinoth turned to the human.

"So, Nick, you must be the one that made a couple of new arch-fae."

"Y-yes, but not on purpose," Nick stammered nervously.

"How exactly does one make accidentally two arch-fae?" I asked, bemused.

"W-well... They stopped us on the road because they wanted our names, but since we need our names I gave them new names, and then they were arch-fae."

"Takes quite a lot of power to create a name for a fae," Basinoth said. "However, that isn't enough to make an arch-fae."

"It shouldn't be, at least," I added. "Though, we're not exactly experts on the matter. Mumuldobran would know more. Just where is the King of the Arch-Fae?"

"Having a conniption," Tits said jovially. "They'll be joining us shortly."

"A conniption? What for?"

"A bunch of things, really. First, the fact that we were made arch-fae under mysterious circumstances. Then, my name and the fact that I chose it. Finally, some of the sprites killed his favorite tea tree as a prank."

I instinctively glance toward Tamithi, who winced and shrank back further into the foliage. Hul was resting upon the sprite's shoulder and had to fight a branch to remain there. Basinoth let out a heavy sigh.

"I really liked the tea from that tree."

"Not to worry," Tits said. "They were smart enough to save a cutting of the tree, and we've already got it planted. It'll take a few years to grow up, but we'll still be able to enjoy Mumuldobran's special brew at some point in the future."

"I am pleased to hear that," Mumuldobran said, appearing as if from nowhere. "Or rather, my rage is lessened by the news. We did not gather here to discuss my anger, though."

"Didn't we?" Tits asked with a grin. "I thought the whole point of this hearing was to discuss how arch-fae were made without your consent. Isn't that one of the things you're sore about?"

Mumuldobran stared at Tits, obviously trying to make the arch-fae's head explode with willpower alone. I found myself becoming a tad impatient at their antics, so I clashed my teeth loudly to snap the King of Arch-Fae out of it. It glanced at me with ineffectual annoyance, then cleared its throat.

"Algebrun, please perform the introductions so that we may get started," Mumuldobran said. "We have a lot to discuss."