The
Virtual
Realm

= = =

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

 

 

 

Waiting wasn’t as difficult as he’d thought it would be. The fire was dying down, but he made no move to go and collect more firewood. There didn’t seem to be much point. There wasn’t long left, the suns were rising in the east, sending red flames across the clouds. No, there was not long left.

It was his own fault. He knew it. But it wasn’t as if he’d had any choice, not once he’d looked. He’d seen what was coming, the instant he’d ignored Dungeonmaster’s advice and gazed into those glowing, evil eyes. Now there was nothing left to do but wait.

The others had gone a few days ago; that was his only comfort. The furious, bitter and terminal argument had made sure of that.

He poked the embers of the fire with a charred stick, and smiled. It was funny, that they had never understood. It was funnier still that he could manipulate them just as easily as he always had.

How the other would react when they found out, he couldn’t guess. And he didn’t want to know. The knowledge that they’d actually left him to die would be almost unbearable. Almost. He hated doing it to them, not after all he’d done, and making them live with that sort of burden seemed almost cruel. But at least they would be alive, then.

Dungeonmaster wasn’t the only one with the gift of foresight, it seemed. Though he should have known better than to test Dungeonmaster’s power. He should have learned that Dungeonmaster spoke for a reason and that he did indeed know what he was doing.

Eric knew who was coming.

He knew none of them could stop it, not even the Dungeonmaster.

So he’d done the only thing he could think of to make sure they were safe.

Would they be so surprised when they found out? Amid the mourning, the grief and self-reproach, would they be surprised by his actions?

Maybe they would be, in a sense he hoped they would be, but certainly not as surprised as he himself was. He had prided himself on his selfish attitude, and on always looking out for Number One. How had he managed to grow a backbone and not notice?

Had this been when they first arrived in the Realm, he would have clung to his friends, begging them to get him out of this fate of his own making; and in doing so brought them all down with him.

And now? After a year in the Realm, a year of running and hiding and searching and failing? Now, he had been nice! He had been caring! It would be good for his ego to say that he’d sacrificed himself for the others, but that wasn’t true. He was dead anyway, it was just a matter of who else would join him!

He shuddered, poking the fire once again with his handy branch, trying to keep the last few embers alive and glowing for a few more minutes.

Regret welled up inside him, and he found himself thinking back to that day. It had just been one thing after another. The Tower of Darkness, the Box of Balefire, their run through the Realm, their desperate attempt at escape to the Underworld.

If only he hadn’t been so impulsive. If he’d only listened to Dungeonmaster, then this wouldn’t be happening. But his fate was sealed the moment he’d looked when he was not supposed to.

They would come for him. He’d seen his death as clearly as he’d seen the evil in the eyes.

No one could live after seeing the true Face of Evil.

But the others were all so damned nice about everything. And time was running out. They were too nice to leave him behind when he said he was ill, or when he was obnoxious and difficult and overbearing and unkind.

In the end he’d resorted to a cheap, nasty trick.

Name-calling, teasing and a little cowardice was nothing to what he’d done. He’d turned on them. He’d betrayed them as completely as he could without destroying them and it had shaken them through to their core.

And afterwards, they’d left. It was as straightforward as that!

It wasn’t very clever, it had none of the finesse he had though it would. It was dark, and dirty, and ugly, but… but at least it was over.

When he was found, he would be alone. And that would just have to be good enough.

There was a noise behind him, it started off like the gentle rustle of dry leave, but grew slowly to a colossal roar. But he didn’t even bother to turn round.

There was a rush of black winds round him, and he could feel the ground shaking. Dungeonmaster would probably be with them now. Maybe he would even be explaining at this very moment. But there was nothing he could do. There was nothing anyone could do.

He took a long, deep breath, smelling the smoke and burning flesh of the being just behind him.

‘It took you long enough,’ he said, rising to turn around.

The being was as tall as he remembered, but this time the fires and the power were so much closer. He shielded his eyes from the sparking lightning, and looked up once more. There was that Face, with those dark, burning eyes that seemed to suck his soul out. This was it. This was what he had seen just a few weeks ago. This was the end.

‘So, you’re finally here,’ he said to the being in front of him.‘Yes, Cavalier,’ replied that familiar voice. ‘I am.’

The creature opened its mouth, pouring the bright deadly magic on to him.

The waiting was finally over.