Chapter 66: Jester’s First Act

Jason sputtered as he stared at the stump where his right hand used to be, the missing appendage still attached to the mace as they sank into the sand. A kick to the back sent him falling to his knees. His eyes glossed over as pain overtook his consciousness. With a thought, Charon ordered the skeleton leader to step around the man and lower himself to a single knee. It raised its sword and held it with both hands, one supporting the flat end of the blade and the other holding the handle. Taking the offered weapon, Charon held it and studied the sleek, unadorned steel, nodding in approval at the effective simplicity. "I know you must be in a lot of pain right now, Jason, but I must ask a favor of you." He leaned down, coming face-to-face with his opponent. Agony coursed through the man’s veins as he gritted his teeth and clutched his forearm. "When you see Death, tell him Jester says hello." With a single motion, Charon thrust the sword into Jason’s chest, piercing his heart and killing him on the spot. As his body collapsed, the skeleton gripped the blade’s handle and yanked it up before raising it in triumph. The crowd cheered loudly as the announcer declared his victory, the floating disk shooting overhead as he gave closing statements. The sand beneath Charon’s feet began to shift, slowly nudging him to the side of the arena where a small hole had appeared, the stone shifting out of the way to allow him to pass. Giving the crowd one last bow, he subtly had all of his skeletons approach. He touched each one and absorbed them into his core, the chill of his mana calming him as he grounded his emotions. ’What I did, I did for the presentation of it all. It wasn’t personal, just business. I’ll just do this until I repay the curator for the mask, then I’m done.’ Despite his thoughts, he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed himself. The rush of adrenaline, the shouting of thousands, the attention it all brought... it was intoxicating in all the best ways. It made him feel like a hero, if just for a few moments. Entering the secret entrance, he found himself in a stone hallway that led up to a wooden room. A fireplace was set into the far wall, a crackling flame dancing within. Three couches flanked a central table, with the fourth side facing the blaze. A minibar was along one wall, a well-dressed attendant nodding at him as he walked in. "Ah, Mr. Jester. Congratulations on your first win. Have a preference for a drink?" His eyebrows shot up at the offer. ’Alcohol? He is offering me alcohol?’ The Mistress had always forbidden any kind of drinking or drugs, saying that it left you vulnerable to mind magic. She was so emphatic that Charon had seen orphans be kicked out onto the street for sneaking a single glass. ’She wouldn’t know if I had some now...’ The offer was almost too good to pass up, allowing him to try something new and exciting, but he still chewed his lip and shook his head, preferring to keep himself sharp. ’As nice as it would be, getting drunk right now could be dangerous. I don’t need to let a secret slip or have Emerius find me like that. Only the gods know what he’d do if he found out.’ "No, thank you. I would take some food if you have any." The well-groomed man gave him a slight nod before reaching under the counter and withdrawing a covered plate. Lifting the domed top, he revealed a dish of mixed meats and cheeses. "I trust this will suit your tastes?" Smiling widely, Charon took the plate and moved to the couch, happily falling into the plush cushions and sneaking a circular piece of meat under his mask. ’Now this is how you treat a champion! I could get used to this!’ He had eaten multiple pieces by the time he noticed a thin hand reaching out and taking a slice of cheese for herself, daintily bringing it to her lips and nibbling it bit by bit. Pausing mid-chew, Charon turned to the side and saw the hand leading to a lithe girl wearing a baby blue dress. Her eyes were red from crying, and her mouth was in a slight frown. One word crossed his mind. ’Wallflower.’ Audibly gulping, Charon looked back at the plate. Extending a shaky hand, he grabbed another piece and ate it, hoping not to disturb the monstrous teenager’s meal. Minutes passed in that silence while Charon tried to figure out how to flee. ’I really need to learn how to use my soul sense ability! How didn’t I notice you, anyway? She was right there! This isn’t good!’ Just as he was getting ready to stand up and leave, she spoke. "I watched your fight. You did well. The crowd loved you. That’s good." Her words were stated plainly, with little intonation. ’That felt like a threat. Is she threatening me? Did I step onto her turf?’ A shiver went down his spine. "Th-thank you. I watched yours as well. It was shocking how you were able to take him out so easily." He froze, realizing that his words could be misinterpreted as him saying he doubted her abilities. Luckily, however, she just sighed. "Yes, I hear that often." The sadness in her voice was still there, and although he had seen what she could do, it still pulled at Charon. ’Gods damn my empathy, why can’t I view her the same way I view my enemies? She doesn’t mean anything to me, nothing! Let me ignore her!’ His mental pleas went nowhere, his body still reacting to her words. ’I’m still wearing the Mask of the Jester, mind magic shouldn’t be able to affect me! This is definitely mind magic!’ He knew deep down that it wasn’t, but it still made no logical sense to him. "So... I hope you liked my performance. I tried to make the audience laugh." She gave him a half smile that somehow looked more depressed than her frown. "I enjoyed it very much. You have a gift to be able to speak so easily in front of so many. When I started, I also tried to be funny to earn supporters. I was told it came across as... solemn." Charon struggled to keep his face from twitching. ’Of course it came across as solemn, everything you do oozes sadness! You could wish me a happy birthday and I’d be worried that it was also a funeral!’ Choosing what he said a bit more carefully, he shrugged and tried to play it off. "That’s good! And don’t sell yourself short, I’m sure there were plenty of folks who loved your charisma! Don’t let a few haters drag you down!" She chuckled at his optimism, the sound soft and haunting. "I truly wish that were how it was. I appreciate your confidence, though. I pray you have much luck in your next few fights." Feeling more at ease, Charon casually grabbed some more food and fed himself. "Thanks, right back at you! Not that you need luck, I doubt anyone here could hold a handle to you." Her smile vanished, replaced with the previous frown. "Yes, that is what I believe as well." ’Did I say something wrong?’ Confused about what he did, and unsure how to make it better, he nudged the plate closer to her. "Here, eat some more. Food will keep us healthy. After what we have gone through today, it’d help a lot." She nodded and quietly took some of the offered refreshments. Their conversations petered out as she grew lost in thought. Charon, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how to keep things peaceful between them. ’She could be weaving her magic on me right now. I don’t feel particularly weak, but neither did that knight before he began to burst from the inside out!’ Just then, the announcer strutted in from another doorway, his tophat tucked under one arm and his cane raised in the air. "Well, well, well, if it isn’t my newest favorite Novice fighter! You killed it out there, killed it, I say! The betting ring made thousands, and you will be the talk of the town for the week at least!" He tapped Charon with the butt of his cane. "I told you when I met you that you could be a star! Your viscous clown performance was just what the audience needed after a few classless brawls! A few more of those, and you’ll be sipping champagne in The Lounge!" Charon’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the place Oliver had told him about. ’That’s where I’ll find the Orb of Vitriol and can complete the contract. If he thinks I’m on the right track, then I must be doing something right.’ The man then turned to Wallflower, his smile fading and being replaced with a snarl. "You, by comparison, were a drab little stain. No showmanship, none at all! Those cheers you heard? That was the drivel being loud. They will scream for anything, even the runt fighters! I had wanted a show, a visual memory for them to crow about for days?" He swatted her shoulder. "Instead, I witnessed more of the same gory debauchery! I expect better! Now come along, maybe some training will sharpen that dull mind of yours!" With stiff movements, Wallflower rose and followed the announcer out, leaving Charon alone in stunned silence.