BT II - Epilogue (Patreon)

Baron Hurden’s body opened its eyes.  It sloshed slightly in the brass bathtub, pulling itself up from the red liquid that it had been soaking in until its chest was free.

“Disappointing,” The third prince muttered, struggling to use the Baron’s vocal cords in a manner that wouldn’t do them irreparable harm.

It reached a hand out to a small table, red dripping freely onto the luxurious carpet surrounding the bathtub, and picked up a small bell.  It rang it twice before letting its body sink back into the bath, drooping lower until only its neck and head were above the surface.

Barely ten seconds later, the door opened and a tall, skinny middle-aged man in a suit ran into the room.  He began bowing urgently, stuttering as he fawned over the third prince’s body.

“M-milord.  W-hat is it that you require of me?”

“Fetch the skimmer and a fresh pig,” the third prince replied, “my bath is beginning to coagulate.  While you’re down there, make sure to send up the representative from the Royal Knights.  I have news that will interest him.”

“But M-milord,” the servant said hesitantly.  “No one has come up the stairs to your chamber.  H-how could you have news for the-”

“Skimmer. Pig.  Knight.” It didn’t bother to open the Baron’s eyes.  “Unless you want to be the one manually refilling my bath, I would be quick about it too.”

The man scrambled away, hurriedly closing the door behind him before the third prince heard his steps rapidly descending the stairs outside of his bedchamber.  It didn’t bother remember the servant’s names.  Inevitably, they all failed him, and when that moment came, their names hardly served a purpose anymore.

The prince let its borrowed body slosh slightly in the tub, reveling in the feel of the magically infused liquid as it bonded with its skin and flesh, strengthening and rejuvenating its ailing mortal shell.

A short rap one the door followed by a creak of un-oiled hinges announced the Royal Knight’s presence.  Through lidded eyes, the third prince tracked the new arrival’s presence by the light of their gleaming soul as they walked over to the side of the tub.

“Matthias said you had news for me?”  A woman’s pleasant voice asked.  The prince knew that the original inhabitant of its body had held lustful thoughts toward her, but the mere idea revolted it.

Mortal reproduction in general was an aberration.  All of that sweat, grunting, and meat slapping against meat.  It was simply wrong.  Yet another addition to the prince’s list of reasons why Karell needed to be plunged back into Elsewhere and erased along with the disgusting creatures that called the foul place home.

He opened his eyes looking up at the woman.  She appeared to be young, but the third prince knew that was an illusion created by using the same treated baths he was utilizing to reverse his host’s catastrophic aging process.

“My servant has failed,” he said without any emotion or expression.  “Silver will be returning before too long.  We need to speed things along.  Your people will need to gather more sacrifices and hurry the construction of the castle.”

“Unfortunately,” she replied, “that will be difficult.  We have every prisoner in the region working on construction, and we have already emptied the orphanages to procure the sacrifices you have used to enchant the fortress to date.  If we move any faster, the royal family will surely notice.”

“Leave the royal family to me,” the third prince responded dismissively, closing its body’s eyes once again.  “Disposing of them once we got the fortress flying was always part of the plan.  I will simply have to move sooner than expected.”

“Very good Baron,”  the woman answered.  “This partnership has been very fruitful for my faction within the Knights.  You’ve been true to your word every step of the way.  If you are sure that this Silver character poses a threat to our plans, I can put together-”

“Don’t bother,” the third prince cut her off.  “I have plans for him, and by this point anyone under level eighty would be nothing more than free experience for him.  He will hide and skulk, trying to put together a force capable of defeating me, but once I move, I will be able to force his hand.  He has been too open with his dealings, and anyone that knows where to look can find his family and his guild.  When the time comes, he will be the one to attack me.”

“Level eighty?”  She sputtered.  “I thought this was a young man, under forty.  If he’s able to fight a blessed at level eighty, he must be some kind of kingdom toppling prodigy.  How can you be so sure that you will win if you decide to fight him?”

“Because I have before,” the third prince replied evenly.  “And I will do so again and again, as many times as necessary.  Now leave me, the servants should be arriving soon with a fresh pig and you know how much I enjoy the experience of watching them refill my bath.”

A dress swished as the woman bowed, and a moment later soft footsteps padded out of the third prince’s bedchamber.

Then there was silence.  Merciful silence, devoid of any mortals and their meaningless struggles and petty concerns.