By the time Lefty reached the ledge where the ruins of Perfectum ended and the actual sewers began, he was limping quite severely. The stiff wooden squid shoes he had insisted on wearing were not designed for comfort… or… walking for that matter. Even under optimal conditions his feet would have been sore and blistered by now, and trudging uphill through ankle deep sewage water was far from optimal.
As if that weren’t enough the temperature had dropped significantly since they first began their underground journey. Ol Blu felt chilly despite his fur, and he wasn’t wet. Lefty, on the other hand, was still damp from his fight with the guardian. The encounter had thoroughly soaked him and the dank conditions hadn’t allowed him to dry much, so now he was shivering as he made his way through the cold concrete tunnels.
Needless to say… his already slow pace became even slower. Though it had taken them less than an hour to reach this spot on their way in, it would take significantly longer to shuffle their way out. Ol Blu considered telling Lefty to stop and rest… but considering they had no food, no clean water, and no way to get warm; it was unlikely that stopping would be very restful. Pausing now would only let fatigue set in and make it harder to start again. As much as it hurt him to see his friend struggling, he knew it was best to maintain what little momentum they had. They would be fiiiine, he reasoned… so long as they kept up this pace…
That was when Lefty’s trusty pointlights, which had shone continuously since Titus purchased them all those months ago… suddenly flickered out, leaving the two of them in complete darkness.
“Ohh nooo…” Said Lefty, practically groaning the words as he came to a stop.
This was bound to happen eventually. All pointlights have a finite lifespan. Perpetuals, like Lefty’s tend to only shine continuously for two or three years before slowly burning out. Emphasis on slowly. Everyone knew that his double sided lights would burn out quicker… but it was assumed that they would still go dim before they died. That’s what perpetuals do, they gradually fade in a process that usually takes several days. They don’t just… turn off… which is why neither Lefty, Ol Blu, or even Pluuthrchk thought to pack a spare.
Fortunately for the adventurers, the pointlights flickered back on a few seconds later.
Unfortunately, they shone about half as brightly.
“I… don’t want to alarm you lad… I know you’re tired… but I don’t think these are going to last much longer.”
As if to reinforce Ol Blu’s words, the lights flickered off and on again.
“And if they do go out for good… I don’t think I can navigate us back in the dark…”(nervous laugh)
Lefty didn’t say anything. Not even a sigh or a groan. The words simply washed over his numb body… and his knees wobbled from the implications. For a second Ol Blu worried that this new source of stress would be too much for the young man, that he would simply collapse right there in the sewers… but he didn’t.
Lefty took a deep breath … and let it out. Then he took another, but faster, and another, and another, almost hyperventilating, as if he was getting his lungs warmed up for what he was about to do. His fists tightened. He rolled his shoulders. And without a word… he began to run through the sewers.
Knowing that time was of the essence, the young man pushed himself to the very limits of his endurance. It was not a fast pace by any means. Barely above a jog if we’re being honest… but it was as fast as his extremely sore and aching legs would carry him.
As he ran, his only source of light began to fade noticeably, the cone of visions slowly shrinking with every passing moment. The looming terror of being lost in a pitch black labyrinth had all of Lefty’s body parts in agreement for once. They put aside their individual complaints and urged him to keep going despite their exhaustion. Ol Blu helped as best as he could, trying to keep Lefty motivated as he rode atop his head. Each time they made a turn, the kicken counted down the remaining turns, praising his friend’s efforts as they rapidly approached the entrance.
More than once the young man slipped trying to make his way quickly through the increasingly dark passages. He fell hard onto the cold wet concrete floor, wheezing and writhing as pain radiated from his bruised hip. Each time Ol Blu fluttered off his head and encouraged him to get back up.
“You can do this lad! We’re almost there! You just have to keep moving. We’ll have you warm and full of bread before you know it, but ya gotta get up first.”
With a groan the sore human forced himself up from the muck, willing his shaky legs to be still so he could trudge onward again, his limp even worse now.
Luckily… Lefty and Ol Blu managed to reach the final straightaway just before his pointlights died completely. Lefty slowed down to a walk again as the light faded to nothing. He made the last stretch in complete darkness, feeling his way along the wall as Ol Blu assured him… that the entrance was up ahead.
The fact that they couldn’t see it was worrying in its own right. Sunlight should have shone through the grating. For a few tense moments both of them worried that somehow they had gotten turned around; that they were completely and utterly lost despite Ol Blu’s perfect memory. But eventually, as their eyes adjusted to the dusky conditions, they indeed saw the gate they had entered through; its iron bars bathed in dim moonlight.
Turns out that between their struggles to survive, and Marcus’s enrapturing story… they had completely lost track of time. Neither of them seemed to realize that night had long since fallen. They had only intended to spend six hours down there… but that estimate had more than doubled,
By the time they finally stumbled out of sewers, it was almost as dark outside as it was inside. The only sources of light were a pale crescent moon hanging high in the air, and the dull distant twinkles of The Capital’s taller buildings, some of which held lanterns or globelights in the windows.
For a few moments Lefty simply stood there, breathing heavily from his exhausting final dash through the sewers. As he did, a torrent of emotions swirled inside his head. On the one hand, his panic was fading, the young man relieved that he had avoided another horrible fate. But for some reason… he wasn’t excited to be alive and free. Something was wrong here. It wasn’t until his heartbeat slowed down a bit that he realized what it was.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Where are Pluuthrchk’s servants?” He said with a sigh.
There were supposed to be a pair of them waiting near the entrance, holding onto magic food and medical supplies just in case Lefty returned injured. Instead he was greeted only by the sound of crickets… and the dawning realization that he wasn’t done walking yet.
It was a long way back to Pluuthrchk’s mansion, and to say Lefty was upset would be an understatement.
I won't repeat the curses and swears he levied at his teacher that night. Some of them were well deserved. In fact Ol Blu may have joined in on a little Pluuthrchk bashing. After all, the thulhan had talked so much about trust and confidence. In more than one of its historical narratives the villains were the people who doubted the great old ones… They were impatient politicians and aristocrats who lost faith in their visionary leaders after a single setback. Pluuthrchk had hammered home the idea that perseverance was a core trait of all noble beings… and then it gave up on Lefty in less than a day.
It’s not like the jeweler didn’t have plenty of servants to spare! It could have sent a second shift to relieve the first! Or at the very least left the supplies at the entrance! It’s not like they’d be needed elsewhere. Pluuthrchk’s warm comfy mansion was full of food!
But no. After six hours passed with no word, Pluuthrchk simply assumed the worst. It gave up; abandoning Lefty and Ol Blu to their fate in the sewers. It was almost funny. And that was how Ol Blu tried to spin things, hoping that he could lift Lefty’s spirits as the lad slowly limped his way through the Capital… but any cathartic enjoyment the young man got from insulting his teacher… quickly turned to rage. As the minutes dragged on the whole tone of the discussion shifted. Lefty’s verbal attacks got more personal, more mean spirited, his anger turning to strangely violent threats that sounded eerie coming from his haggard monotone voice.
“I’m going to kill em Blu. I’m going to kill Pluutrchk. I’m going to slice its head off, and I’m going to bathe in its blood, and then I’m going to burn the mansion down. Oh, it's dead. It’s so dead.” (heavy breathing)
Needless to say, this level of fury shocked Ol Blu… so much so that he retreated into a timid silence. The kicken didn’t want to feed into Lefty’s anger any more… nor did he want that anger turned towards him. It was frankly a bit frightening to see the young man so upset… but then… Lefty had a lot of reasons to be upset…
He was tired, hungry, cold, sore, and he smelled of excrement. In the past twelve hours he had almost drowned in sewage, listened to the saddest song ever created, and for the second time in his life, experienced the kind of existential dread that comes from learning that the past you thought you knew… was wrong. His cherished pointlight, the magical item which had saved his life multiple times… had suddenly died on him. And now, to top it all off, one of the few people he thought he could trust… had failed him… when he needed it the most.
Under the circumstances, I think it's easy to see why Lefty threatened Pluuthrchk that night. He had a lot of things bothering him, and only one of those things had a name he could curse and a face he could theoretically punch. That’s why he continued to talk ill of his teacher for most of that long dark walk through the city.
Not that the city was literally dark, at least not once they made their way into the more populated areas. The poorer sections of The Capital were lit sporadically by crude streetlamps. These glowed red and orange with actual flickering flames, and slowly grew more common as they made their way through increasingly wealthier districts. Eventually firelight gave way to the white and blue hues of dream-crafted streetlights. The rich neighborhoods near Pluuthrchk’s home had these in abundance, and they were actually quite pretty at night. Sadly, reaching them did little to diminish the ugly aura emanating from Lefty.
By then was moving like a shambling corpse; his shoulders hunched over, his breath ragged, his body swaying with each labored step. His murderous threats had long since faded, having turned first to unintelligible grumblings, and then to stone cold silence. He was still mad. Furious even. But words took energy he didn’t have. All he could do now was walk, and even that was an intense strain on his exhausted body. At this point he probably could have stopped; slept on the ground, and simply found his way back in the morning… but rage itself propelled him forward. He needed to confront Pluuthrchk… tonight… and each shuddering step brought him a little closer to that goal. Ol Blu could only hope that someone would stop him before he did anything regretful.
Unfortunately, as Pluuthrchk’s mansion loomed in the distance, Lefty’s pace actually increased, as if proximity to revenge had renewed his strength. The guards at the gate let him pass without hesitation. They had long since learned to recognize Pluuthrchk’s young ward, and they weren’t paid to ask questions.
Plutchrchk's surprised servants were, but the hired help was caught completely off guard as Lefty stumbled into the foyer in the middle of the night. They realized something was wrong of course, and they attempted to help him, but Lefty waved them aside dismissively like an angry drunk, mumbling half coherently that he needed to see Pluuthrchk. With the last of his strength he pushed his way past them, heading with single minded determination towards his teacher’s chambers.
His wealthy patron was already standing when Lefty burst in, having heard the commotion from outside.
“Lefty! You're alive!” It said excitedly as it made its way over to the disoriented human. For what it’s worth… the old aristocrat seemed genuinely happy to see Lefty. It approached with a wide smile on its face, arms open as if to embrace the young man… at least until it breathed in the foul stench emanating from him. Then it suddenly stopped, its face tendrils curling in revulsion as it retracted a step and froze, bringing a robed forearm up to cover its mouth.
“By the mighty wings of great Cthulhu! What happened to you?”
Lefty raised his arm slowly. Whether he was reaching for the feather on his back or simply gesturing angrily at Pluuthrchk… I’ll never know… because at that very moment, the survival instincts which had kept him propped up all this time… suddenly realized that they weren't needed anymore. He was safe. He was standing in a luxurious study, surrounded by helpful people and no longer in any mortal danger...
His knees wobbled. He suddenly felt very heavy. He tried to take a step forward to steady himself… but his feet had already surrendered, so instead he rolled his ankle and fell hard to his hands and knees, letting out a sound that was half way between a groan and a gasp. The room was spinning. His neck felt like jelly. He attempted to simply remain upright… and promptly failed… falling forward and landing on his face with a deep and worrying “thunk”.
Despite the rancid filth covering him, Pluuthcrchk rushed over and knelt down, grabbing the young man by his shoulders and lifting him up.
“Call a doctor! Quickly! And bring me some water! Blankets too! Move!” The thulhan shouted, calling to its servants who were crowded in the doorway.
Lefty looked up at his teacher, his vision blurry as his eyelids began to droop.
“Pluuthrck…” he breathed out, his voice barely a whisper, his lips quivering as he struggled to remain conscious. “I gotta tell you somethin…”
The thulhan looked back down at him, its face a mask of concern.
“Yes Lefty, w-what is it?”
Lefty summoned the last vestiges of his strength, his face tightening for one brief second as he locked in, and stared Pluuthrck straight in the eye.
“You’re a piece of shit.”
The old historian tilted its head in confusion, but before it could even ask what Lefty meant, the young man closed his eyes and slumped forward, passing out cold in his teacher’s hands.
