Sylvester & Tuette: Cursed Doubt

Chapter Thirty-One

It had started taking a turn for the disappointing. Roost honestly thought that she might drive the deadly dagger through the count’s weak heart. But with a few sappy words from the degenerate king, she had been temporarily swayed. The energy rolling off of her was unmistakable though. It couldn’t be described as Magik but something more primal. Almost uncontrollable.


But now it was gone because Tuette had failed in fulfilling whatever ensnarement Roost had quickly concocted. It was rather unfortunate that the Truvis Pote had come into play when it had. While looking like the count he was purported to be, he felt that being called by any name was adequate. Under the guise of his true self – his unavoidably obese, thumbless self – he could feel nothing but a taxation of defeat.


Even that was temporary as something extraordinary and quite unexpected occurred when Tuette let loose the dagger.


A wash of blue fire engulfed Castle Tigra Lei, replacing the outside scenery first and then traveling inward. Roost had no time to fear the essence as it took all of them in an instant that might’ve been measured better in eye blinks than seconds.


Count Roost felt like he was floating then, and finally falling. His stomach lurched up into his throat and when he tried to look around, he only saw white. It permeated his mouth and tasted bitter on his tongue and smelled like carrion in his nostrils. He thought he might throw up when a very soothing presence wrapped itself around the back of his neck.


Is this the end? Is this Dorothy in all her blinding glory?


There was no answer to his unvoiced questions but the pressure on his neck increased and finally reached into the man to encase his very spine. Roost then became quite fearful for his life as he couldn’t exactly place the reasoning behind what was happening to him.


Finally, he heard fainter, recognizable voices flitter as if very far away. He felt a very warm and inviting grip against his fleshy palm but before he could enjoy the contact of what could only be another human being, it dashed away from his touch. The rejection tasted worse than the bitter environment and Roost felt like cutting a hole through the air if only to escape further acts of dismissal.


Roost started to see shapes in the white din, as if his eyes needed time to adjust to the ethereal light that had engulfed them all. An inexorable feeling of sadness then settled inside him and he realized that he would probably never see his castle again. Probably never see the bastardized old man that was his father again. But he’d never have to deal with another disobedient servant or a rogue townsperson or even a failed apprentice.


He realized it wasn’t sadness but a subtle sense of elation. Whatever was happening, it meant he would no longer have to suffer within the likes of this world anymore: a world that lets children become kings and where dregs like his father have a chance to sway the destiny of millions. No. Wherever I’m going, it has to be better than all this.


Count Roost realized that he ironically had only Tuette to thank for this release. She had been his first virulent Curse. A tame Curse by recent standards, he knew, but imposing all the same.


Thank you, Tuette. For everything.


Everything slowed for Roost then and he realized that the white was fading at a subtle rate. It felt like several hours before he could finally see whatever surrounded him.


Whatever that was, Roost couldn’t describe it. He only knew the peace that he now held dear inside himself.