The Island With No Parallel

Deals and Contracts

"HOW DARE YOU."

The prince's screams filled the dungeon as he crumbled to the floor, horrors filling his mind as vividly as if they were happening in front of him.

"Boy, I should kill you where you stand."

"O-o-our a-a-agreement... You c-ca-can't kill me. I haven't b-broken our contract." He had to push past the horrors. He'd come too far to be stopped now.

"And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? Boy?"

The General of Fear's upper body hovered over him, a clawed hand grasping his ankle and beginning to drag him towards the portal.

"Th-th-the probability clause." His voice came out in a croak, but Fear heard him, which was all that mattered.

The dragging stopped, and a growl of annoyance replaced it. "Not that damnable clause." Renen's body was shoved back, the horrors receding as soon as he did.

He returned to his feet on shaking legs, but he straightened his back, regaining his composure quickly. "According to the ancient rites that seals the Dark Ones to the servitude of the Aracs, I have the right to claim the probability cause. There is no probable way I can offer you Luca Valentini's body."

"On what grounds can you possibly make that claim?"

"He was a pirate, and his body butchered beyond recognition, plainly seen by the state of his clothes. After he was killed by the assassin Krileon, his crew wouldn't keep his body to bury. They couldn't. They would have thrown his body into the water. I claim that there was no probable way I can obtain the body for you, though you have the right to ask for more proof if you desire it, you cannot ask for proof that can't possibly exist. Or don't you know how to conduct a dealing?"

The General of Fear grumbled in anger, his breath turning heavy. "Rrrahh! Fine!" His eyes shot open. Slowly, he retreated into the portal, then reached his hand out and dropped a key. "You Aracs think you know what you're dealing with. Just wait until we're free from these bonds, these binding rites. Then you'll see who's truly the puppet and the master."

"Yes, and in the meantime, go back to your hell."

The fires vanquished, and the room was enveloped in darkness.

In the pitch black, a laugh went out. "Well done Renen. A flawless performance."

Someone struck flint, a spark lighting a nearby torch. The light illuminated Lord Stretton holding it and coming to Renen. "The deception was performed flawlessly. By the time the General discovers it, we will be in possession of the Dark Lords, and it will be too late. Come, I wish to speak with you in my chambers."

"Very well, uncle." The two turned on the dungeons and ascended the stairs leading up to the surface. "You've come a long ways, Renen. I believe you're ready for me to include you in what I've been working on for unlocking the last General. We shall unlock him next."

"So soon?" Renen was genuinely surprised. His uncle had shared nothing with him about unlocking the last General, or even their progress on it. The General of Rage's request was a strange riddle. 'The fury of a thousand fires' was his request, though he gave no specifics on what that meant. Though now that they had already dealt with Fear, he was starting to wonder if such a vague request would leave room for a quick deception to get the damn thing over with and finally go to the Island With No Parallel with Cadri.

"Yes. We'll go more over the details in my chambers. I now know that I can trust you, nephew. At first, I must admit that I was a little concerned, but I feel you have proven yourself to be a great man, and a great leader. Exactly the kind of man your father should have been, but was too weak to become."