Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Rings on a Pig

"How many more rings can we buy with this?" Priscilla asked, frantically shoving another pile of gold coins into the man's hands.

"Ten each," the man replied flatly.

"Only ten?" Mulock muttered. "That's ridiculous. There's no way it should cost that much."

The man shrugged. "It's a difficult game."

"All we're doing is throwing rings at a sleeping pig," Mulock snapped.

"Yeah, and neither of you have landed a single one."

"Because it's rigged."

"It's a pig," Priscilla argued. "How the hell could it possibly be rigged?"

"I don't know," Mulock snapped. "I'm sure he could find a way."

"Listen," the man said with a sigh. "If you're just going to complain, you don't have to play anymore--"

"Hell no," Mulock barked. "I'm not leaving until I win this shit game."

"Okay." The man's shoulders sagged, looking utterly exhausted.

"Wheeler," Mulock called, "get over here. You're good with animals. Maybe you can make that stupid pig change her spot or something."

He was met with silence.

The demon turned, panic taking hold of his gut when he saw Wheeler was nowhere in sight.

"Priscilla," he said slowly. "Where's Wheeler?"

"I thought you were keeping an eye on him."

"I thought you were."

The two exchanged a horrified glance.

"Oh shit," Mulock breathed.

"Fuck, what do we do?!" Priscilla gasped, desperately scanning the crowd of masked villagers around them.

"We search," Mulock said, anxiety turning his stomach to knots.

"Can't you do that cat smelling thing of yours?!" Priscilla asked frantically.

"I could try," the demon replied. "But there's so many smells at this festival it's probably hidden by now."

"Oh God," Priscilla whimpered, anxiously running her hands through her curls. "We're fucked. We're completely and utterly fucked--"

"Hold on," Mulock interrupted, taking a deep breath. It was faint, only a whisper of a trace amidst the crowded festival. Despite this, Mulock could recognize that scent of spearmint and pine anywhere.

"Are you picking up something?" Priscilla asked, her voice desperate.

Mulock nodded stiffly. "Yeah. It might be damn near impossible to actually track, but..."

"We have to try."

"Exactly."

"So..." the man said slowly, "you're...not staying to throw more rings at the pig?"

"No," Mulock snapped. "Fuck you. Fuck that pig. And fuck the fact that you overcharge for literally the stupidest game in the world. "

And with that, they desperately took off running through the crowded village streets.

***

The carriage Wheeler had been ushered into was dark, bumping and bobbing as it made its way across the forest's uneven terrain. Arlo sat across from him with two hooded figures dressed in glistening golden robes on either side. They didn't seem to be moving, their shoulders hunched over, swaying with the carrige's movements.

Arlo noticed Wheeler anxiously eyeing them and gave him a knowing smile. "Don't worry. They're just unconscious." He let out a low laugh. "Things would've been far easier for them if they'd come as willingly as you."

Wheeler swallowed hard, a shiver shooting up his spine.

"They'll wake soon," Alro continued, giving one a little nudge. "We're almost to our destination. And speaking of..." He reached for a folded garment beside him, tossing it to Wheeler. "You'll want to put this on. It's tradition for the chosen to dress in attire worthy of our lord." Wheeler glanced down at the garment, recognizing it as the same glistening robes that adorned the two unconscious figures.

Trying to keep his hands from trembling, Wheeler slipped the robe over his shoulders, slowly pulling the hood down over his head.

They continued to ride in silence. Soon Wheeler started to notice other carriages emerging from the forest, following the same path. Their numbers continued to grow, more carriages joining in silent succession.

Finally, up ahead, Wheeler saw what they were all heading towards.

It was a giant skeleton of a building long since abandoned. The forest had overtaken it, thick vines of ivy winding and curling over the worn grey stones, reclaiming the structure for its own. The shattered stained glass and sunken roof seemed strangely familiar, but Wheeler couldn't seem to place where he'd seen it before. As if he'd wondered this aloud, Arlo answered the question.

"This was supposed to be the original imperial academy," he murmured. "They'd nearly finished construction when the Grand Emperor at the time suddenly changed his mind about the location."

"Why?" Wheeler asked, trying to ignore the dread growing within the pit of his stomach as they approached the building.

"He realized no one would send the best young magicians in the world to the middle of nowhere." Arlo smiled thinly. "And he was right. The Icy Mountains are an awful location for a school..."

"But the perfect location for going unnoticed?" Wheeler whispered.

"Exactly. You catch on fast, kid."

Suddenly the carrige screeched to halt and the figures beside Arlo instantly jerked back to life. They began to whimper and cry, strange muffled noises coming from beneath their hoods instead of words. Wheeler realized with a start that they must be gagged.

"They can complain all they want," Arlo said with a shrug. "We've put a following spell on them. They'll be going into that building, willing or not."

He shot up, clapping his hands twice. As he did, the two figures were forced to their feet, as if they were puppets being yanked up by invisible strings. They'd begun to sob and the sound of it made Wheeler nearly faint from anxiety.

"Alright then," Arlo said with a smile. "Let's get going. Your destiny awaits."