Slamming his eyes shut till they hurt, Matthew was flinching and waiting for the pop of the Halcyon Band discharging. He waited and waited for the shot that would kill the paladin. But the pop never came.
He slowly opened his eyes to see a time-frozen world. The tank-like paladin was still in front of him, his arm arced in a follow-through of a mighty swing. Matthew studied the flail and grimaced when he noticed the gore and cloth that was globbed between the spikes of the weapon’s spiked head.
He looked around the immediate area and gasped. The Halycon Band lay on the bricks, glittering. Matthew bent down to pick it up and his fingers slid through it. He tried again. And again. His fingers still wisped through.
Confused, Matthew turned around. Kaitlyn was there, her ankles buried in still glowing brick. She was wailing when time stopped. He hated her crying face. She looked ridiculous.
A young paladin was behind her, his face frozen in a shout. His hands were around his wife. Matthew felt a pang of jealousy, but swallowed it. Too late for that, it seems. Two other clergy members were frozen in the sky just a little to Kaitlyn’s left, caught in midair with a dramatic flair.
Benji’s blood was not flowing on the ground. He had bled so much. Matthew could not bring himself to stare. And he looked immediately down, expecting what he saw.
He was looking at himself. His destroyed body at least.
A movement in the distance caught his eye. Matthew stepped around the Inquisitor to see a shape trotting toward him. A friendly looking dog was making his way down the street, nose hovering just over the ground. As much as he tried, the dog’s traits were all too generic for him to place a breed. But he noticed, around the dog’s neck, hung a wreath of sun bleached flowers.
Reflexively, Matt looked at Kaitlyn, his heart beginning to beat faster. He thought back to that stupid game he was forced to play at the tavern. The coin that had the burning wreath on it. Chael.
The god of death stopped and sniffed the air in Matthew’s direction, seeming to catch a scent. And then he began bounding over.
Matthew had no idea what to expect. Would he be tackled into the afterlife? Would his soul be mauled? He was always told Chael did not exist.
Just a few paces short of Matthew, the god stopped, his tail wagging energetically. Chael bowed his head, urging Matthew to give him attention. When Matthew held out his hand, Chael excitedly rubbed his head across his palm and fingers. The act was sort of calming for Matt and brought a smile to his face.
After Chael was finished petting himself, he gave a bark. It was ethereal, and trembling. It echoed through the halls of The Throne. The dog then looked around, as though waiting for something.
He barked again, this time louder. Matthew looked at Chael, confused, and the dog looked back at him, panting with canine anticipation.
After a moment of silence, Chael broke into a series of barks and howls that bounced between the buildings and off of the floors and ceilings, layering upon itself until it became a chorus.
Matthew found the song unsettling. A sense of dread began to build in him as the dog spun and jumped with his barks and howls. Then, above the dog, two scarlet jewel-like eyes flashed into existence. The King’s Shade’s black crown materialized over the jewels while his inky cloak dripped down from the eyes until it was fully formed in its churning, foggy state.
Once the King’s Shade was fully formed, Chael went silent. His lips pulled back over his gums revealing his sharp, glistening teeth.
“Shut up, dog,” the King’s Shade bellowed. “I’m here.”
Chael allowed his face to rest and trotted back over to Matthew. He gave Matt a light lick on the back of the hand, and Matt rewarded the greeting with a gentle pat.
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“So you got yourself killed. Well done.” The King’s Shade hovered down toward Matthew as Chael backed off before finally sprinting off.
Matthew suddenly felt wholly alone.
“You have nothing to say for yourself, Matthew?”
“What do you mean?”
The King’s Shade began to laugh. “Look at it! Lying on the ground. In your blood. I gave that to you and you slung it onto the ground in a puddle of blood!” The god’s cloak oozed in the direction of the Halcyon Band.
“You’re a god. You can give me a chance, right?”
“I gave you a chance, Matthew.”
“Look at that guy,” Matthew said, looking at the Inquisitor. “How would I be able to win?”
The jeweled eyes of the King’s Shade glinted. “If you only knew the threats that would have been before you had you survived today. This man is nothing, and the fact that your body was ruined so easily means you are less than that.”
The sting ignited Matthew’s rage. “You do not talk to me like that.”
“Or what?”
“No one insults me like that.”
The King’s Shade’s eyes began to lower, taking the oozing shadow of a cloak with them, until they were level with Matthew’s eyes. “Allow me, Matthew, to put you in your place.”
Matthew stood his ground.
“You, mortal, are less than nothing. You were an accidental birth, a nightmare of a child, a terrible husband, and you were on track to be a worse father. Did you know your mother was a blue magic user?”
Matthew bit back his anger. “No.”
“Of course you did not. You claim to have cared about her, but you probably would have done more to save her if you did, would you not? Her death was more than just a blow to you, my boy. I was preparing her to be something great. But you and your hellacious father ruined all of that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your mother was going to be frightfully powerful. But she was too caring. And it swallowed her up. And I thought that maybe you would have caught just a mite of her greatness. But no. You are just your father’s son.”
Matthew’s face was turning red with rage.
“You are selfish and you are wicked, but worse? You are power hungry. You want power over your friends. Over your wife. Over your own future. Violence against a child is an unforgivable thing, but even more disgusting is violence against your own.”
Matthew suddenly deflated to have his sin laid bare. “But you told me to do that.”
“And who am I to you, Matthew?”
“I was doing what you told me to do.”
“Interesting, hmm? Because you never take orders but from shadowy figures that haunt your dreams. If it had been anyone else in there, say Kaitlyn, you would have sneered and shrieked and said over and over how you knew best.”
The sense of dread was growing in Matthew’s heart.
“You have no sense of decency. You have no sense of loyalty. You have terrible character judgement. And you have enough pride for a hundred fools. And look again at what it has earned you. Death. Death and sorrow for the people who, for some forsaken reason, found it possible to love you.”
Matthew took a deep, trembling breath. “What comes next?” he asked, tears beginning to appear.
“For me? I will move to the next potential champion.”
“What?”
“You’re out of the running, Matthew. So it’s on to my next candidate.”
“I was…”
“A pawn?” The King’s Shade laughed. “You were a pawn your whole life, Matthew.”
Matthew Carpenter, struck suddenly with existential dread, looked down with misty eyes.
“Now, what is next for you? Usually, a god will sponsor your travel into the celestial realm afterlife. But you? No one is coming for you.”
“But you are here?” Matthew half-stated, half asked.
“Because no god wants you. Even I do not want you. If I had not shown, though, that infernal hound would have barked until the end of time. I did not want to be here for you. And I surely will not be taking you with me.”
Matthew looked up, dumbfounded. “So…?”
“So your soul will stay here until it eventually gives up and you will be lost to the chaos of time. I am truly sorry it has to be this way. I tried to save you, Matthew, but you proved irredeemable.”
There was a long silence.
“Well then, it appears we are done here, Mister Carpenter.” The King’s Shade began to float away, his shadow becoming more translucent with every inch he moved away from Matthew.
“Why have you done this to me?”
“Mister Carpenter,” the King’s Shade replied, his voice just as full and strong despite his fading body. “You did this to yourself.”
The eyes were the last to disappear, and the avatar left behind no god’s tears this time. Matthew, despondent, sank to a seated position amidst his own gore, frozen in time, and screamed into his hands.
