Sylvester & Tuette: Cursed Doubt

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Count Roost had never been so uncomfortable in his life. Only during this moment of discomfort did he forget that this would be the decisive day regarding, quite possibly, the fate of the known world.


But today, he was also meeting Botch’s father and basically taking custody of the boy.


In the past week and more, Botch had proved to be a competent servant with the Potential to be a loyal apprentice the likes of which Roost had only perceived briefly in others. It was a somewhat formal situation but Roost knew that it had to be handled today. No more delays. There was always the chance that this day could prove disastrous by full moon’s rise and he wanted to insure that there were no loose ends that might otherwise distract him subconsciously.


That and he wanted to have Botch at his side should the king come a-calling: it was always best to have known and trusted allies within a helpful distance.


Again, Roost feared that he had overestimated the abilities of the man, the crown. That he might be dealing with a monarch who failed to recognize the true peril that his nation could face if he didn’t act. And he knew that it was King Sylvester who was acting; that or someone had robbed the man of his kingstone and was looking to prove his loyalty to a dying dynasty. The activation of the Artificial-from-Afar Charm in conjunction with Puze’s proximity to the kingstone had been proof of that much: the lei cat tooth disintegrated by a third with each activation of the Charm. Still, the doubt persisted and the count could only wonder about a king who allowed others to take care of the most important of threats.


Presently, he was sitting in an anteroom of Ta Pelael Rote’s. Roost hadn’t realized that a ta served the community of Boost but did seem to recall one trying to meet with him when he took over the governorship of this stylized island. Roost also remembered turning the man away a couple times, each declination from the mouth of a different servant.


Why has Botch never mentioned that he comes from a lineage of Magik? And where’s the boy now? His head energies focused on likely situations that had occurred among the residents of Boost following the Cursing of one failed servant after another: they would’ve probably flocked to Ta Rote in desperation.


Of course, Ta Rote would’ve easily found the means of Reversing their Curses through a simple Charting session. Charting was like using a Finding Spell except it not only located the source of a particular practitioner of Magik ritual but the short- and long-term effects of a Spell and, in the case of Curses, the immediate means of Reversing it. It was most often used to realize the true purpose of a Charmed Stone or an unknown Pote and was often a basic lesson bestowed upon most apprentices.


In attempting to dissect the possible past, Roost belatedly realized that he hadn’t shown Botch how to perform a basic Chart. But, of course, Charts weren’t always necessary for experienced Magikals. Cursory glances could be used to recognize many Potes and Charms, except for those Potent Magiks that don’t physically change the appearance of a Stone or liquid Pote. This is why. I hadn’t thought to tell Botch about them. That and because he hadn’t encountered other Mages yet.


Ta Rote should’ve shown him though. What kind of father doesn’t bestow a useful dose of beneficial knowledge onto his son?


A poor one.


It wasn’t too much longer before some sort of benign-looking aid came and told Roost the ta was ready to see him. The count found it interesting that he, the governor, was being treated as if summoned when it was known that Roost was the one who demanded the meeting. With a smirk, he rose and approached the ta’s office, allowing the momentary guise of subservience to the petty Mage.


Ta Rote was just below average height, which told Roost that Botch probably wouldn’t have move more room to grow, physically. Extending his hand to share a mutual wrist-grip, the ta smiled weakly at Roost. And Roost liked that.


“Count Roost, sir, what circumstance has brought you from Castle Tigra Lei?” began Rote while disengaging his pallid grip and returning to his seat.


Roost simply said, “Your son.” Rote hesitated just before finally sitting, another involuntary gesture that pleased Roost’s physically heavy heart. “You know that Botch has been acting as an exceptional servant as of late. And even has the makings of becoming a fine apprentice.”


It looked like Ta Rote was going to chew his tongue before deciding to reply to anything the count said; his cheeks told as much. Finally, with his smile long gone, the ta said, “I… had no idea. No.” He then broke eye contact with Roost and his face flushed a rosy hue. This is the makings of an embarrassing situation. “But I should’ve known something was peculiar.” He sighed. “When he came to me stating that you and the man immolated via statue were one in the same, I thought it was only a story.”


“But it’s true. I am that same man,” replied Roost as a tinge of heat rushed through his temples. Again he was reminded that his subjects hadn’t believed him and now hearing it for the second time, from an adult, made the fact more firm. Of course, it wasn’t like I had some ceremony of announcement. It now feels like that was necessary.


Roost knew why he hadn’t made any such announcement though: it would’ve been like publicly stating his heavy reliance on Magik for the sake of his appearance. In short, it was a declaration of vanity and it wasn’t something that the count was ultimately proud of. It wasn’t like he was this island’s true leader or anything. He didn’t make policy. He just occupied the castle; his title and statement about being Boost’s governor was purely for exhibition.


Exhibition is the practice of vanity. Roost knew this and realized his worries had been unfounded; the folk of Boost, those who saw him as a Magik tyrant that Cursed failed servants already knew he had no hold over island policy. They already knew him to be clinging to a title he didn’t enact.


And that he used Magik regularly.


Ta Rote had continued talking and the count forcibly drew himself out of his contemplative state to look into the Mage’s hazel eyes. “Yes. Obviously, you are. But my son doesn’t need to be in your employ.” His eyes bore into Roost’s. “You have a reputation that precedes you. In the form of servants that have failed to meet your expectations.” The count had expected this too but it didn’t make things that much easier.





*          ~          *          ~          *





The meeting had actually turned out to be shorter than expected. Roost thought it was funny how awkward situations lent to a time-slowing experience that felt quicker in the moment.  But he also knew he felt a little wearier. “To embrace several awkward experiences in a row is to live a life in a day,” he muttered to himself.


Glancing around, he noticed that the sun was nearing its contact point with the horizon. And that the walkways and alleys of the town were all but barren. Will it always be like this when I venture into town? Or any town in the future? Will people always fear me to the point of avoiding me?


I bet Sylvester garners all manners of praise, wherever he goes.


Thinking that made him feel an unexpected twinge of jealousy over the king. The man of incompetence was probably lauded over in every town and hollow he invaded with his crowning charm. Roost’s steps shallowed as his thoughts tended to race from one scenario to another: Roost, finally adorning the crown, entering a village and everybody immediately hiding behind their business and wares. King Roost meeting with an advising council and receiving no real advice; only bouncing his ideas off a bunch of yes-men or –women.


Good Lord and former Count Roost leading a kingdom of silent abiders of law.


All because he was known and feared for Cursing failures. The realization hit hard but knowing that he had someone like Botch supporting him made him feel wondrously better. Not completely but a good deal, to say the least.


Making his way through the empty gaps that passed for paths between structures placed too close to one another, he finally exited the village proper… and was stunned when he looked up at Castle Tigra Lei. From this vantage point, he immediately noticed that a light was shining at the apex of his sole tower.


“Count!” came a high and wheezed pitch. “Master!”


Roost turned on a heel and saw Botch exiting the gloom created by shadow. He had a satchel under his arm and his hair was tussled; his face had red blotches of blood rushed beneath the skin which only make his pale skin more apparent. “Botch,” answered the count with quietness about his voice. His energies were distracted by the flickering of light at the top of the tower. Who could be up there, or possibly had been up there and is now elsewhere in my castle?


“Sir… My father… He doesn’t…” Roost knew what the boy would finish saying: how Ta Rote had forbidden his only son from spending anymore time with the insidious rooster. Out of more respect for the boy than anything, he chose not to Curse the lowlife ta right then and there. Didn’t even take a sample of hair for later prospects.


The awkwardly long but decidedly short meeting had ended with Roost simply getting up and leaving with somber waters inside himself.


But Botch had obviously not felt the same way, thoughts easily denoted from his presence in the here and now. Roost nodded as the boy now had his full attention. Botch looked like he was going to start crying when he dropped his satchel and rushed at Roost with his arms spread wide and buried his face just under the count’s chin. It was an unexpected but decidedly welcome gesture as Count Roost returned the embrace and patted Botch’s shuddering shoulder blades.


After several moments that weren’t too terribly awkward for the count, Botch disengaged from Roost and bent down to pick up his satchel while wiping his flushed eyes. Then the boy paused while looking past Roost. “Who’s that?”


In the fading sunlight, Roost couldn’t make out the body or even the gender. But it’s a person, at least. Someone in a hood and cloak. The sight sent off a silent warning for Roost but he couldn’t pinpoint why. Maybe because we’re both witnessing a stranger enter my home. He looked at Botch and back at the castle.


Our home.


Remembering the light that seemed dimmer than before, Roost turned again to Botch. “I don’t know, my boy.” The sudden phrasing of familiarity had rolled easily off his tongue, he decided, and it didn’t taste sour passing his lips. But there was still something odd about it. “I’m not sure. But I intend to find out.”


Lowering his stance just slightly, he looked into Botch’s eyes. “Lad, I’m going to confront whoever is inside. I want you to circle around and see if there’s anyone else that might enter behind me.” It seemed like a weak and foolish plan of surprise but it was all he knew he had with just the two of them and not even defensive Potes on his person. He knew he might be able to make his way back to Ta Rote’s place of business and strong-arm some defensive Magiks for himself but that would take more time than he might have.


Whoever is in Castle Tigra Lei already has the upper hand. At least it’s a place I know rather intimately. “And when you don’t see anyone else, come in after me. But be careful.” Botch only nodded, wide-eyed. “I’m going to attempt to make it to my workshop and use something to stop them.”


“Ya think it’s the king?”


Roost stood up straight, continuing to stare down into the boy’s face. He was surprised he hadn’t put that piece of the puzzle in place by himself. Yes, Botch is going to prove useful, alright. “If it is Sylvester, he’ll have to deal with at least one more Artificial, Botch. And this one should be the smartest and most lethal of the batch, what with having the chance to learn from its predecessor’s mistakes and all.” Roost grinned.


“But aren’t they told to protect the king? So you can get the kingstone?”


That thought sobered the count up for a moment and brought the situation into focus. If Sylvester and others were already inside, it could prove disastrous to any of the others and Sylvester might come to harm anyway. All the more reason to move quickly. He couldn’t help but think how an erstwhile conclusion was coming about.


Finally!


And then it’s “Hello, kingstone” and “Goodbye, Voidet!”