Mark of the Fool

Chapter 907: Generals and Legacy (Final Chapter of Mark of the Fool + Afterward)

Chapter 907: Generals and Legacy (Final Chapter of Mark of the Fool + Afterward)

“Shall we go?” Alex asked Theresa, offering his arm.

“Yes, let’s,” Theresa whispered, her hot breath on his ear.

Together, husband and wife linked arms and made their way toward the exit.

Only for the doors to abruptly burst open.

The music ended.

All dancing did too as the doors kept swinging, banging against the wall as though gripped by a scouring winter wind.

Loud footsteps came next, echoing from the hallway. A hallway that was in utter darkness.

Theresa reached for her blades, shouting, patting her empty scabbards. “Alex, my swords are gone!”

The archwizard prepared to channel his magics. “Don’t worry, whatever this is, I’ve got it.”

What was it? All the enemies he was aware of were either dead or…dead. Was someone looking for him from the Irtyshenan Empire? Was some ally of Kaz-Mowang here to take his head?

The footsteps grew louder and a figure suddenly materialised from the dark.

A familiar one.

“What the hells?” Alex cried.

In the doorway was the familiar form of…

…Minervus.

“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding? How cruel, to think that you would have forgotten me so quickly!” Minervus snarled.

“What…you’re dead!” Alex cried.

“You foolish Fool.” The onetime employee of Shale’s sneered. “You weren’t able to see through my clever plan! So you didn’t see this coming either! Look who I freed from prison?”

Minervus gestured to the darkened hallway where a larger figure stood.

Leopold, the demon summoner and former friend to Amir, stalked into the room, his hands flexing like a monster’s claws. “Thank you for the save, Minervus. Faking both of our deaths has proven quite fruitful. Now, I’ll repay you for freeing me by doing what I do best!”

He extended his hands, summoning.

“Here come your greatest enemies!”

The air around him shimmered.

Terrible beings manifested.

First came Ezaliel, his demonic facets shining.

The Ravener followed, spawning monsters as it floated in place.

Aenflynn stepped from behind the construct with a sharp-toothed grin, rubbing his hands together, looking sinister.

The last being Leopold summoned was…

…Uldar himself, in all his treacherous glory.

“I live again,” the former god of Thameland declared. “And now we will have our vengeance.”

Slowly, the dark beings from Alex’s past advanced on the wedding guests.

“No!” the General of Thameland cried. “This can’t be! Not today! No, no, noooooo—”

Alex woke up.

It was morning, sunlight streamed in through a tall window.

The General of Thameland blinked blearily, trying to understand what was happening. “Where’s the Ravener…” he whispered. “Where’s the demon—”

He paused. “...it was a dream, just a dream.”

The young wizard turned his back to the window…

…and found his beautiful wife, fast asleep beside him in their bed.

Memories of their party, and what happened afterward were returning to him…

He smiled, stretching his muscular—but very sore—body like a contented cat.

‘You know, Uldar,’ he thought, slowly peeling himself off the bed. ‘I don’t think…certain acts were what you had in mind when you made the General good at mastering every skill quickly, but if you were still alive, I’d owe even a traitor like you a drink.’

Sighing, he let himself melt back into the pillows.

This was his life now.

His best friend, his lover, and eternity.

A good life, to say the least.

Now, there was the honeymoon to think about.

He turned his head, peering at the sky through small gaps in the shutters. Once he and Theresa got up, they’d be leaving.

…for the stars.

With a few spells from Baelin, and the Traveller’s power, Alex and his wife would be able to survive just about anywhere. And they were planning on using those abilities to visit different worlds. They could see sights beyond anything this planet had to offer, and bathe in the light of far-distant suns, while exploring realms and cultures across the universe.

Theresa had always wanted to travel.

She had followed him when he went to fulfil his dream.

Now he would fulfil hers.

‘Going among the stars with Theresa as my wife…quite a far cry from being an abused baker's assistant,’ he thought. ‘Oh, shoot, that reminds me.’

The General glanced across the room where a large table, heaped with wedding gifts and letters, stood. They’d read some, snuggled together and exhausted, before they’d fallen asleep last night. There was one note in particular that reminded him of his life under the abusive McHarris.

Its contents read:

Congratulations to you two on being wedded! We have a gift for you that we hope we can give you before you go off on your honeymoon. It won’t be ready until the afternoon of your wedding. Sorry we couldn’t get it to you sooner! We hope you can maybe visit and pick it up before you go off on your honeymoon?

Sincerely, Peter and Paul.

Alex definitely wanted to see what their gift was, but he also had a dilemma. He didn’t want to wake Theresa up, and he didn’t want to leave the comfort of his marital bed…but, at the same time, he really wanted to have that gift in hand to show her when she woke up.

‘Should I get up, or should I stay?’ Alex wondered. Then he smirked. ‘Thank the Traveller, I don’t have to choose.’

Concentrating on Hannah’s power, he stayed in bed…and also appeared outside the bedroom in their suite at the Royal Griffon hotel.

He quickly washed—an army of Wizard’s Hands washing him from head to toe—then he teleported some comfortable clothes onto his body.

Giving the situation a second thought, he also teleported the aeld staff into his hand.

It gave off waves of excitement.

“Hello, friend,” he whispered to the staff, making sure he couldn’t hear himself by being loud enough to wake Theresa. “Let’s go on a little trip, shall we? I bet Peter and Paul are at the fountain this time of day.”

With a single thought, he teleported to Alric.

Images from across space blurred past him as he hurtled toward his old hometown, appearing beside the fountain…to a flurry of curses.

“What th—” Peter cried, stumbling back.

The young archwizard had appeared only a few feet away from him.

“Aaaaaaarg-Alex?” Paul paused, partway through drawing his sword. “Is that you?”

“In the flesh.” The young archwizard smiled, his long hair blowing in the morning breeze. “How are you two doing?”

“Fine, until you nearly scared us to death!” Peter fumed. “Gah, if you didn’t save our lives, I’d say you’d be the death of us! What are you doing here this early in the morning? Shouldn’t you be with your new bride?”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yeah, she’s going to be real mad if you’re already leaving her behind the morning after your wedding,” Paul said nervously.

“I didn’t,” Alex said, his voice light. “I’m with her at the same time I’m with you two. I’m in two places at once.”

Peter and Paul looked at each other.

Then shrugged.

“That sound like ‘wizard shit’ to you?” Peter asked Paul.

“Sounds like ‘wizard shit’ to me,” Paul replied, before looking at Alex with his eyebrow raised. “Are you planning on being in more than one place at once during your honeymoon?”

Alex blinked once. “Are you out of your minds? My attention’s going to be on my wife. Because I want it to be on my wife!”

“Fair enough,” Paul said. “I take it you’re here to pick up your gift?”

“Yeah, nice letter, by the way,” Alex said. “We’ll be leaving for our honeymoon a little later, so this was about the only chance I knew I’d have to come and get it.”

“Right,” Peter said. “Then I’d better go get it. Theresa will have our hides if she finds out we’re holding you up. Watch the fountain for me, Paul.”

“Aye,’ Paul said. “You can trust me with that.”

“I’ll watch it too,” Alex said.

“Then I know it’s in good hands!” Peter said, running off down the largely desertedstreet.

It was shortly after sunrise, and not many had taken to the cobblestone roads of Alric yet. Things were quiet…which Alex was glad of; these days, every time he took two steps into Thameland, he’d be surrounded by people thanking him for everything he’d done.

But, this morning, he couldn’t spare the time for that.

“So,” Paul interrupted his thoughts. “You like what they did with the fountain?”

Alex followed his gaze to the fountain of the Heroes in the middle of town.

“Yes, I really do.” He smiled up at it. “I actually really like it.”

The fountain was crowned with the statues of the Heroes that had always been a part of it: the hulking figure of the Champion, the bespectacled, stern Sage, the kind figure of the Saint, the handsome form of the Chosen, and a statue with a chin too curved, eyes too bulging, and a nose that looked like a pumpkin’s stem. A jaunty jester’s hat sat on its head.

The Fool.

At one time, that statue was always covered in bird droppings…but now, it was as polished and well maintained as the other Heroes’ images.

There was also an additional figure that now joined the others on top of the fountain.

Carved of the same fine stone, a likeness of the General rose above the other Heroes. The statue’s features resembled Alex’s, and its muscular form held a scroll in one hand, and a sword in the other.

Its facial expression seemed wise, as it looked down on Alex and Paul with benevolent eyes. Hanging around the statue’s neck was the symbol of a lantern.

“Yeah, the sculptor did a really great job,” Alex said, nodding approvingly.

“Aye, that she did,” Paul agreed. “Look at you! I can’t believe you turned from being that skinny baker’s assistant to the size you are now.”

“Funny, I was just thinking about that,” Alex said. “You know—”

He paused.

Paul frowned. “Something wrong?”

“I…” he paused again. His hearing, sharpened from the elixir of immortality, picked up a voice yelling from inside a nearby building. A familiar and rather unpleasant voice.

He slowly turned around.

“Oh, no damn way,” he whispered.

“What? Oh, you mean that. Yeah, it’s still there,” Paul said.

The two men were looking at McHarris’ Bakery, restored and still there after all this time.

“Yeah, he had to pay a pretty hefty fine after that incident with the eggs, he was in jail for a few days too, but he got out because of the Ravener’s attack,” Paul said. “But he’s back in business now. Hopefully, he learned his lesson, though. Bad memories from that place, aye?”

The guard couldn’t hear McHarris’ yelling.

It was growing louder.

Alex frowned.

“I’ll be right back.”

Without another word, he cast invisibility magic on himself and teleported inside the bakery…

Where a familiar scene was playing out.

McHarris—in all his bullying glory—stood with his hands on his hips, yelling and cursing at a boy who looked no older than sixteen. A dark haired young man winced and wilted under each barb the baker was throwing at him.

Alex’s jaw clenched.

“—brainless buffoon!” the old baker ranted. “I swear, you have nothing between your ears besides sawdust and broken dreams! My broken dreams! Listen to me, you’re my assistant, and you’ll bloody listen to what I say if you know what’s good for you!”

“Y-yes, chef,” the boy murmured.

“I’m a bloody baker, not a chef!” McHarris snarled. “What’s the matter with you? Can’t you even remember that? Pay attention to me, you oaf!” He puffed out his chest. “After all, I’m the one that whipped the General of Thameland into shape when he was a lad! If it weren’t for me, he’d be as useless as the day I found him, same as you! Thameland owes me, and so do you!”

‘What the hells,’ Alex thought, his blood beginning to boil.

For an instant, he considered all the things he could do to the baker.

Devastating spells.

The Traveller’s power.

Summoned monsters…perhaps even a visit from Asmaldestre the Unmaker.

There were so many ways he could annihilate this unrepentant bully, that he was still sifting through them in his mind when the baker huffed.

“That’s why we have to make sure that the General is treated like a king when he comes in here next!” McHarris shouted.

Alex’s invisible jaw dropped.

Was this man serious?

“And that’s why you need to work harder!” McHarris snapped. “Now, I don’t care how bloody sick you are, or how tired, or whatever you are! Get to work! We open within the hour!”

Without another word, he stomped out of the kitchen and into the front part of the bakery.

His assistant was left behind, head hanging.

Alex bit his lip.

In many ways, the young man reminded him of himself, suffering under McHarris’s cruelty.

‘Can’t believe that bloody bastard hasn’t changed,’ he thought. ‘And…wait. He hasn’t changed?’ A devilish grin took his features. ‘He. Hasn’t. Changed.’

Alex dismissed the invisibility magic on himself.

The assistant sniffled, then looked up, yelping in surprise.

Alex quickly put a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh…” he hissed softly.

The apprentice closed his mouth.

“Stop caterwauling in there!” McHarris shouted from the front. “What, are you doing, crying, you spineless little whelp?”

The apprentice winced.

Alex shook his head, then teleported to where McHarris kept his ingredients. The young archwizard’s eyes scanned the open pantry, looking and sniffing.

‘Eggs are fine this time, fruit jam looks fine too…ah. Here we are,’ he thought, grinning.

He slowly looked at the apprentice, pointing to the salted beef for meat pies. “That looks old, doesn’t it?” The archwizard inhaled deeply. “Yes it’s definitely off.”

The apprentice looked from Alex to the meat, slowly nodding.

Alex’s eyes twinkled. “You know the nice thing about fools? Actual fools, I mean? They never learn lessons. Stay there for a moment.”

He teleported back to the fountain.

Paul yelped when the archwizard reappeared…as did Peter, who was now holding something.

“You gotta stop doing that,” Peter said. “Nearly made me drop your gift. Here you are, by the way.”

Before Alex could say anything, he was presented with the gift.

“Oh…oh wow!” the young archwizard cried.

He’d been handed a small, wooden, carved replica of the fountain in the centre of Alric that the three of them were currently standing beside…the one noticeable difference was that the figures represented on it were different.

There were only three of them.

On the left stood Theresa, complete with death stalker face, the twinblade raised in her hands. On the right was Brutus, sheathed in his bone armour with all three heads snarling. And in the middle…a perfect replica of Alex was standing there in triumph, holding his sword-staff high.

On the base, a simple inscription was written:

The True Heroes of Alric.

“There’s space on it, right in front of you,” Peter pointed out. “A place for your little sister, when she grows up a bit more. She’s going to do great things, I’m sure.”

“Do…do you like it?” Paul asked.

Alex stared at the sculpture, transfixed, memories playing through his mind.

Memories of a young Fool, a huntress, her dog, and a young girl, travelling beyond Alric’s walls.

Ahead of them waited…unimaginable possibilities.

“It’s wonderful,” Alex said, clutching the sculpture close. “I’m going to cherish it forever.”

Peter and Paul smiled.

“Very glad about that,” Peter said.

“Aye, very glad,” Paul said. “And listen, we still owe you. You saved both our lives. That’s a high debt of gratitude to pay.”

“Funny you should bring that up,” Alex said. “Uhm, can you two do me a little favour?”

“Oh, anything!” Peter said quickly.

Alex glanced at McHarris’ bakery. “Did you know that McHarris is using old meat? It’s definitely rotten, he’s been trying to cover it up with salt and spices. I don’t think the baker’s guild or butcher’s guild would be too happy about that. Neither would the mayor if…” He remembered their conversation from long ago, when he pointed out McHarris’ rotten eggs. “…ifsome bigwigturned all green in the face and keeled over... You might want to investigate.”

Peter and Paul stared at him.

“Really? You’re the General of Thameland and you’re asking us to investigate and arrest the same bloody baker you used to work for?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” Alex said with almost the same conviction he’d had when he was saying his wedding vows.

“What, no bad bribe this time?” Peter snorted.

Alex reached for his coin purse.

“Wait, wait, stop!” Peter waved his hands. “Can’t have the bloody General bribing a couple of town guards. We’ll go check things out.”

“Aye, we’d best,” Paul grumbled. “Let’s go. Enjoy your honeymoon, Alex.”

“Oh I will, and I’ll buy you both drinks when I get back!”

“We’ll look forward to it, and we’ll buy you some in return,” Peter said.

Alex watched the guards march away, then stop in front of McHarris’ front door and pound on it.

As soon as the outraged baker opened up, they pushed past him, entering the shop.

“Wait, what are you doing?” McHarris cried, rushing after the two guards. “No, stop! Not again!”

Alex chuckled as McHarris’ cries of dismay echoed through the doorway.

When the crashing began, he outright cackled.

Revenge was still the best food he’d ever tasted from McHarris’.

He was glad he had the chance to savour seconds.

As the crashing and cursing escalated, the young assistant rushed out the door, looking wild-eyed.

He froze when he caught Alex’s eye.

The General smiled and winked. The assistant shyly smiled back.

Alex waved him over, and the young man winced, but quickly hurried to him.

“Listen, I-I can’t thank you enough,” the now formerassistant stammered.

“Oh, no need to thank me,” Alex laughed, digging into his coin purse. “Thanks to me, you’re probably out of a job. What’s your name?”

“Martin,” the assistant said quickly.

“Right, Martin.” Alex dug a couple of coins from his purse. Martin’s eyes grew wide at the shining, golden disks. “Here’s a couple of gold to tide you over. When I get back from my honeymoon, I’ll find you, and we can chat about you coming to work in the first Alric branch of the Roth Family Bakery, which I’ll be opening soon.” He grinned. “You’ll see how proper food’s made, and hey, together we can make sure McHarris stays out of business when he finally gets out of jail. Poisoning people is serious business.”

The assistant gulped, nodding vigorously, then bowed. “You’re even kinder than the rumours tell. Thank you, thank you sir!”

With that, Martin scurried off, leaving Alex alone at the fountain.

Humming to himself, the young archwizard dug out a couple more coins and tossed them in the fountain.

He closed his eyes.

To the hulking figure of the Champion, he thanked him for bravery. To the bespectacled, stern Sage, he thanked her for the wits she’d shown. To the kind figure of the Saint, he thanked her for the generosity he’d received. And to the handsome form of the Chosen, he gave much appreciation for good luck and blessings.

To the General, he offered his gratitude for turning him into the man he was today.

And finally, to the Fool…Alex gave his sympathies and gratitude.

“Thank you,” he whispered to the statue. “Thank you for helping me get to where I am.”

Grinning up at the stone image, he recalled the dream that had woken him up that morning. Despite how horrible the dream had been, the day was already shaping up to be pretty terrific.

He remembered an old expression.

“The worst days tend to start with good mornings,” he said, listening to the wonderful music that was McHarris’ torment. “Well after that nightmare this morning, I think this is shaping up to be one of the best days of my life!”

With another laugh, the General of Thameland teleported away from Alric.

Soon, he would join his wife, and together, they would walk among the stars.

Under the early morning sunlight, not a soul had seen him depart, but if they had, they might have noticed something curious. If one didn’t know better; the bulging eyes of the Fool’s statue and the wise eyes of the General’s seemed to linger on the spot where Alexander Roth had been.

Where a former baker’s assistant had been.

Where a Hero had been.

Where an archwizard had been.

And looking at that spot, one might have even said that the stone statues smiled.