Mug sprinted back to the east side of the island. There by the railroad tracks was Dice's still crumpled up body. Blood had spilled all over the grass from his nasty wounds. A lazy green eye shifted in the little mug's direction as it came forth. The small glass body stopped a few feet away yet again. For he knew to stay a good distance away from the casino manager until he was certain that he wasn't going to lash out despite his condition. Mugman watched as the body tensed up as King Dice went to snap at him.
"I thought - *cough* *cough* - I told you - *cough* - to leave me alone!" The man's body shuddered as he coughed horribly. It was clear to the mug child that Dice's condition had gotten worse just in the hour he had been away. He promptly put down the Miracle Heal in front of the casino manager.
"What's this?" The king coughed, nearly spitting out a little blood.
"A Miracle Heal." Mugman replied. "The thing that saved me from death. It can do the same for you too." His little gloved fingers pushed it even closer to the man.
"I don't want it!" The adult pouted and tried his best to turn away from the child. Mug could see that it was a great effort for King Dice to even make the slightest of movements. Nonetheless, the die man tried to roll himself so that his back faced the young mug. Mugman grimaced as he found out that Dice's backside looked almost as bad as the front.
"Wanting it and needing it are two different things." He insisted. "And in this case, you need it." Gloved fingers inched it a little closer.
"Hmph!" Was the king's only response to this.
"I'd suggest drinking it sooner rather than later. It doesn't always work as fast as you'd like it to."
"Piss off!" Spat the back of the man's cube.
"Is that you saying that or the Devil?" Mug probed.
"Me! I have nothing to do with him anymore!"
"Then why are you acting so much like him?
"He was my boss. I did what he said." Dice almost sounded like he missed that cruel creature. Mug heard this in his voice. His tense body even seemed to relax a bit.
"Do you miss him?"
"No!" The king roared, tensing up again. "I've spent 35 years under his iron rule! Freedom is what I want! It's what I deserve! It just....feels different than how I imagined it."
"That's because you're hurt." Mugman pointed out. "You must have been young when he hired you. Did you prove yourself worthy to him?"
"No. I made a deal with him."
"A deal? What did he give you in return?"
"....It wasn't something for me." The die man hesitated to answer.
"Really? What happened?" The young mug questioned, now extremely interested in what Dice was saying. He watched as the purple suit crawled itself over to the face of the mountain that swallowed the train tracks. Then, with much difficulty, King Dice propped himself up against the stone wall, letting his broken arm fall into his lap.
"You sure you really want to hear the tragic story of young Dice?" The man groaned as his cube rested back on the rock.
"Yes!" Mugman promptly answered. Dice then motioned for the Miracle Heal to be brought to him. The mug child grabbed the bottle and cautiously stepped forward. His movements were slow and deliberate. Mug held out the vile as far as his arm could go. Dice watched as he took a couple of exaggerated steps forward and turned his mug away. For all Mugman knew, he should be preparing for the worst possible scenario. The king's green eyes rolled inside his head.
"Please! Do I really look like I can hurt you?" He asked while snatching the potion away with his good arm. King Dice pulled out the cork with his teeth and took a sip of the green liquid. Mug backed himself away and planted his bottom down on the ground, preparing for story time just like he and Cuphead would do when they were little. He hugged his knees to his chest as nearly half the vile was consumed in one gulp.
"So you want to know how I lost my freedom, huh?" Dice asked, lowering the bottle from his lips. The child merely nodded. "You're right, I was young when it happened. How old are you, kid?"
"Twelve."
"I was only ten when I became the Devil's right-hand man, when I lost my freedom...." Dice paused in a moment of grief before continuing.
"Ahem! I suppose I should start with my tenth birthday. It was the last birthday of mine that was ever celebrated.
"Anyway, my family and I lived in a town very far from here. It was a small house and we didn't have much. Mainly just one another. Both of my parents worked and we still barely had enough money to keep full stomachs and the roof over our head. On my tenth birthday, my mom and dad managed to scrape enough money to get me a small cake and a deck of playing cards. It wasn't much, but it was my favorite birthday gift I ever received. I quickly taught myself some simple magic tricks with the cards and impressed my family with my talent."
"Sounds like it was a simple but happy time." Mug commented.
"Yeah, it certainly was. And then one day it all changed. My mother came down with a serious disease. She was bedridden. I heard the doctor say that there was a cure, but it was very expensive. With my mother out of work, the burden was on my father to support the house and raise money for her cure. It was hard. Nearly impossible for one man to do it all. So I decided to do what I could to help.
"Instead of going out to play with friends or study school subjects, I would go and perform my magic tricks for strangers. I would travel from the streets to local bars and anywhere where people would let me entertain them. For some time, they tipped me generously for my entertainment services. But then the money didn't come in as fast as it once did. Days and weeks passed by. The money was only getting less as my mother's condition worsened. I watched her deteriorate day by day. The sight of this made me desperate.
"If they weren't going to tip, I would have to take what I needed, I had thought. So when people didn't tip, I would use my magic tricks to distract them and then pickpocket without them noticing. Unfortunately, it didn't last long before people began to get suspicious of me. Soon enough, they wouldn't even let me into the restaurants and bars anymore.
"With little other option, I made my way to the neighboring towns. I was able to perform for a little while until word spread that there was a kid pickpocketing from everyone that crossed his path. People would pass right by me, ignore me, pretend that I wasn't even there.
"Down on my hopes, I entered a bar to rest for a little while. I hadn't even collected a single cent that day. I sat in the corner of the empty bar and put my head down on the table. It was still too early in the day for people to be out of work and pounding down the alcohol. The bartender stood behind the counter, cleaning the glasses and preparing for the post-dinner rush. The man himself looked like a wine glass. Skinny body and see-through glass head. A tainted liquid rested in it and a small wooden stick rested against his brim. I could only imagine that he might stick fruits on it like orange peels and olives depending on the day.
'Rough day, huh kid?' He said to me.
'You don't know the half of it.' I told him.
'Cheer up! There's always tomorrow! I'll bet you that-!' The bartender cut off his speech as someone entered the bar. That particular someone whipped the door open so fast that it slammed against the wall. All of the glasses on the rack behind the counter rattled from the impact.
'Oh! M-mister! I-it's you! What would you like today?' The bartender exclaimed and almost seemed frightened of this mystery person. I couldn't even see much of the man. He was heavily dressed in a large tan hat and coat that swallowed his skinny figure.
'The usual, Wesley.' He said in an old and frail voice. I caught a glance of his face when he looked over at me. It was a wrinkled and white-stained human face.
"It seemed a shame to rob this old man, but a customer was a customer just like a sucker was a sucker. I walked up to him and offered to show him my magic tricks. The old man watched and clapped when I finished. I gave him a chance to tip willingly. Instead, he started blabbering about a story of himself when he was young. He claimed to have been just like me when he was my age. But I ignored this comment and proceeded to perform another magic trick in which to distract him and went to snag the wallet from the back pocket of his jacket. As quick as lightning, the man's pale and bony hand grabbed my arm.
'Trying to steal from me, are you?' The old, creaky voice said. 'Do you even know who I am?'
'N-no, sir! Please let go!' I pleaded and tried to get my arm back. The man slowly and stiffly stood up, almost as if he were a robot. I watched as the hand began to change from that deathly white to a rich gray with claws at the end of the fingers. The arm began to transform into a furry black one. That fur ran up the arm and covered the rest of his body. His clothing dropped off him to reveal his true form. There before me stood the Devil. I didn't know it at the moment, I just knew that I was afraid of this creature. A wide smile came across his face as the glowing yellow eyes stared down at me. His skinny tail slunk around from behind him and brought out his golden trident from who knows where. It then tossed it into the hand that wasn't holding me in place.
'I am the Devil, conqueror of lands, ruler of all!' The creature boomed. I froze on the spot.
"The Devil. I had heard tales of such a creature. But I always had thought they were just scary stories that parents used to tell their kids in order to get them to behave. They would always say to keep your nose out of trouble unless you wanted the Devil to come and take you away. Boy, was that silly belief far from the truth.
'Now.....How shall I punish you?' The black creature said as he leaned down to my level, pointing the trident at my face. I trembled as my playing cards fell out of my hand. My mouth stayed shut. I dared not say anything to give him ideas.
'Why not give him a break?' Squeaked a voice from behind the bar. We both looked in its direction. 'He is just a kid after all.'
'You stay out of this!' The Devil hissed. With that, the bartender gave a yelp of fear and slunk himself down below the bar and out of sight. He held a wooden cutting board over his head in hopes for some sort of protection. Those yellow eyes whipped back over to me.
'Three years of servitude should set you right!' It decided.
'But I didn't even-!' I began to protest.
'Quit whining or I'll make it five!' He snapped back. 'Now come along before I have to drag you!' The Devil let go and began to walk off. I hesitated to follow. But then a thought came to mind. The Devil was notorious for being able to do anything to make a deal. And I mean anything.
'Y-you can do anything, right? W-what if we made a deal?' I stuttered out.
'What kind of deal?' It asked, whipping back around.
'I'll be your servant for life if you do something for me.'
'And what would I have to do for you?' The Devil asked, sounding quite annoyed to have to do something for a little kid.
'I.... *gulp* I want you to make my mother better.'
'You....wish for me to cure your mother?' It almost seemed in awe that I would give up my life if only to save my mother. Those yellow eyes went wide as it took in what I was saying. Almost as if the creature felt some sort of sympathy for me. It then shook its head to push those feelings aside.
'Consider it done!' The Devil snorted and swooped back to me, teleporting us away from the bar. We ended up in an arid cavern where the creature bade me to look into a black swirling pool. An image started to form from the ripples. It showed my mother getting out of bed, looking like she had never been sick. My father came through the door of the house with a large sack of money thrown over his shoulder. He let it spill all over the ground as he embraced my mother with a great big hug.
'Your parents will be fine.' The Devil tried to assure me. 'I gave your father luck to win the lottery. Never again will they have to work so hard to maintain the house or any of their needs.' The image began to fade away. I silently fell to my knees in front of the pool, wanting to reach in and touch them. The truth at what I had just done started to set in. My parents were fine....but I would never see them again. I buried my face in my hands and started to weep hopelessly.
'Come now, little one. It won't be so bad. I'll teach you magic beyond what you could've ever imagined.' The Devil said. It was his futile effort to try to make me feel better. But nothing could make me feel better at that moment. His clawed hand grabbed my shoulder and pried me away from the pool of visions.
"And from that day forth, I was trained to be his right-hand man. To be as vile and evil as he was, to cheat and win every time, to rob people of everything they had."
Mugman watched as the king hung his head in shame as he remembered that fateful day like it had just happened yesterday.
"I'm so sorry." Said Mug. "I...I never knew any of that. I sure wonder what your parents thought when they could never find you."
"Yes, I wonder that too." Dice looked back at the mug child. "I question when they stopped looking for me and just assumed I was kidnapped and killed."
"Never!" The little mug protested.
"Hmm?"
"I'm sure they never stopped looking for you! I wouldn't be surprised if they're still looking for you to this day!" Mug stood up as his voice rang with confidence. King Dice's eyes seemed to water at the child's kind words.
"I'd like to believe that.... I really would." His cube hung downwards once again. "Recounting my story makes me realize just how awful I've treated you boys. None of your family deserved any of their punishment either. Not your grandma, and not your parents either. It truly is a shame that they all had to suffer because of what happened between him and the kettle."
"What do you mean, Dice? What happened between the two of them?" The mug child prodded.
"The kettle never told you, did he?"
"No. All he said was that his friend had turned to the darkness." Mug explained.
"I've read all about the kettle and the faun." The king confessed. "The Devil has a contract library, as you know, and there is a section where he's written about his past, a bit of a diary if you will. Well, I can tell you that David – that was the faun's name before he had changed – felt betrayed by Kettle who was choosing to listen to your grandma, whom he had just met, instead of his lifelong friend." Mugman stood there in utter shock at what King Dice was saying. He realized that one truly did need to hear both sides of the story to get the whole picture. "In fact, he blames Kettle for what happened to him."
"Why does he blame Elder Kettle so badly?"
"Well, according to the Devil's writing, your grandpa had said some not so very nice things to him that night which drove him to run off and slay the former ruler of Hell. When he killed the creature with its own weapon, the dark spirit transferred to him. From then on, the Devil swore revenge on Kettle and his family. However, his writings claim that he is not proud of the fact that he has killed most of the kettle's family."
"What are you saying? That there was still some good in him?" Mug asked with hope. That perhaps he could get his wish of not killing the Devil....somehow.
"Yes. He says he felt really bad about killing your grandma. That he didn't mean to and the dark spirit forced him to do a lot of things he didn't want to. The Devil had specifically written that he felt bad because she had always been so nice to him even as the darkness took hold. It stands to reason that he used to have more control over his actions. Even when I first met him, there were times that I could still see the humanity in him. If I could find him in a good mood, he would let me see a vision of my parents to show that they were doing good."
"I wonder if that means we could still reach the old faun even to this day...." Mug pondered as he scratched his head with a finger.
"I think if anyone could do it, it would be the kettle." Dice interjected.
"Why is that?"
"All throughout his writings, he has mentioned a desire for an apology. Kettle never apologized to him. Never. And not for anything. If we could get a sincere apology out of the old kettle, it might just be enough to reach David."
"But why is he so hesitant to apologize?" Mugman could not comprehend this.
"Don't know, kid. I just know that the most humble thing he's ever done is to settle on Inkwell with his friend turned adversary. I don't think the Devil realizes this, but Kettle moved here on his own accord. He never had to come back to Inkwell. It was never in the contract." The king explained.
"They have a contract?" The young mug only became more perplexed at what the casino manager was saying. Never would he have known all of this if it had been up to Kettle. For the tan glassware was intent on keeping his past a secret.
"Yeah. The contract said that the Devil was to stay on Inkwell for the rest of his reign. That way he couldn't just run off and destroy the world. In return, your kettle has promised for his soul not to be passed on after death and remain by David's side for all eternity." Dice told the child. This made Mug realize why the Devil had been trying to assassinate his grandpa.
"That explains why he kept trying to kill Elder Kettle! Because he wants him to fulfill his side of the contract!" The mug child gasped. "I can't let him go through with it!"
King Dice had just finished up the rest of the Miracle Heal and put the bottle down.
"So what are you going to do about it? Do you have a plan?" The die man urged.
"....I....I don't have a plan yet. I need some time to think about it." His gaze swept away from the injured casino manager.
"Don't take too much time," The king urged. "The Devil will most likely have already done something diabolical to them by the time you make your move."
"Thanks, Dice." Mugman said with a nod. "I'll try to be as quick as I can."