My name is Freeman Harbinger. Once upon a time, I worked in the insurance industry and kept a superficially respectable life. Beneath the surface, I adventured in the Shadowlands of mind and story. I have not been back to work in months. I have rarely returned to the shallows, to the world where most people live their everyday lives. I do not know if I will ever return to that life. But at times like these, I do find myself wondering what I was thinking when I abandoned the safety of the Shallows.
I am a psychonaut and a wizard, apprenticed under the Elder being known as the Sleeper. My mentor sends me on incursions into the depths of the Shadowlands. And today I had journeyed into the Mirrored City in the Greater Realm of the same name. The Sleeper had sent me to sabotage a ritual empowering the Broken* (The Broken are a group of the Fair Folk. The Broken are Locust Tainted Fair Folk, like the Court of Eternal Summer. But unlike the Court of Eternal Summer, the Broken have been so twisted and distorted by the corruption of the Grey that they have been torn from whatever Court to which they had previously belonged. The Broken number six in total, three former Faidr and three former Sheedr. Falsenight is the strongest of the three Broken which were once Faidr, and is so influential in the Hungry Empire that many mistake it for the power upon which the empire is built. ) Serpent Falsenight: one of the Elder beings which empowered the False King and the Hungry Empire. I had completed my task. But in making my escape, the forces of the False King had cut me off from the Watchtower Shrine located inside the city itself. And so I had fled to the frontier lands.
I knew there were many villages in the region, and knew many were built near Watchtower Shrines which I could use to make my escape from this realm. The villages in this region were aligned with the Strongiron tribes. And I stood in good standing with the Strongiron Tribes, so I hoped they would allow me to use the shrine.
But I should have known that the story wouldn’t make things that easy.
Since making wizardry my full time vocation, I had learned to distrust anything the story gave me without trouble. I suspected that the Story did indeed consider me a protagonist. And I had taken to writing down these accounts in an effort to convince the story that this was a good idea. But it was no guarantee. And I knew that I could easily end up dead with the final entry of the story being written by a friend or even a sympathetic enemy. Still , I did what I could.
I had stopped to rest under a black locust tree, sheltered by a hedge of dry thorn bushes, when I heard the voice of my mentor.
“I am pleased my apprentice. You handled your mission well.” the Sleeper said, their voice echoing in my mind.
“And I got evicted from the city and its waypoint shrine* (Waypoint Shrines are not places per say. Although they frequently do have the appearance of actual shrines. Waypoint Shrines are points sacred to the story. They are much closer to the pop culture understanding of songlines from aboriginal culture. They are points of mythology embedded into the landscape of both the Major Realms and the Shallows with its closer geographic mapping to the physical world. In theory a waypoint shrine might look like nothing more than a cardboard box with a action figure inside. A waypoint shrine must be found by dowsing for it, rather than by looking.).”
“A minor challenge. The frontier has many viable shrines.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m working on it.”
“I have done so on your behalf. And further, I have news for you regarding the location of Churchill Ravanna.”
“Oh? and also, oh?” I answered.
“Make contact with the chief of a Strongiron village due south. They will help you return to the Shallows and wake. Archmage St. Pierre has analyzed the petrified heart of Saint Sotz and its attunements. Churchill Ravanna has fled through the village in question before cleansing his links to the artifacts he gave away. You will question the tribe and learn more about his movements.”
“That actually sounds reasonable and doable* (Harbinger has spent much of his time in the depths exploring the Mirrored City. That said, most of Harbinger’s time in the Mirrored City has actually been spent in the Frontier Lands until his decision to abandon his life in the Shallows and commit himself full time to his life as a Psychonaut and a Wizard. So a reader might assume that Harbinger is very familiar with the geography of the Frontier Lands. But the Frontier extends outwards, not to infinity, but so far that it will feel like infinity if one tries to walk to the edge. The Frontier is bordered by the Mountains of Kong, but a Psychonaut is unlikely to ever reach them. ). You’re losing your touch, teacher.”
“Or you are expanding your confidence and capabilities.”
“Let’s not get carried away here.”
“The village has control of their shrine, and so I will have Brewmaster Bobby Indra arrive and assist you once you reach the village.”
“And I get back up? Assistance? You’re being down right generous.”
“Perhaps I suspect the story has surprises in store for you.”
I grimaced, “The story always has surprises in store for me. It’s hard to hold the story sacred when it spends so much time trying to make my life miserable.”
“That is the price of choosing to be an actor rather than the audience.” The Sleeper answered.
Bobby greeted me at crossroads market, where I had stopped to purchase a skewer of roasted ground squirrel and cassowary meat.
“Hey there Freeman! Staying safe and outrunning your enemies?”
“Running towards them these days Bobby.”
“Now see that’s bad for your health.”
“I am aware of that.”
“And I got more news that’s bad for your health.”
I paused and looked back the way I had come,” You called it teacher.”
“What”” Bobby asked,” No, it’s not your teacher. It’s the local Chief. The Dragon’s Day festival is going on.”
“Hence the decorations,” I said, touching a garland of flowers as I spoke.
“Exactly. And it’s Dragon’s Day so it’s not all beer and revelry. They heard you’re a hero.”
“Then they heard wrong.” I interrupted.
“Doesn’t matter. That’s what they heard. Fighter of the Black and White. Rescuer of Wizards. Entered the Painted Labyrinth alone. Wields Bloody Grin. They’ve heard stories dude. And this is Dragon’s Day.”
I sighed, “The Patron of Heroes.”
“Yup. And so they want an offering.”
“Dare I hope they want me to pour wine on an altar or slit the throat of a sacrificial bull?”
“They want you to offer up an act of heroism in exchange for the use of their shrine.”
“Of course they do.”
“So yeah. They’ve got this artifact, a sacred spear. And a monster is hunting it.”
“A monster is hunting an artifact?” I asked.
“Yeah, and you know what that means. Because which one hunts artifacts?”
“Crap. Its the bakumera. Of course it’s the bakumera.”
“And they want you to hunt it back dude. They want you to protect their holy spear.”
“Nobody beats the bakumera. You escape the bakumera. You outrun the bakumera. You don’t defeat the bakumera. Nobody does.”
“Maybe nobody did. But they didn’t have Bloody Grin. You’ve got Bloody Grin. Nothing can stop Bloody Grin, and you’re still attuned to it aren’t you.”
“I am still attuned to Bloody Grin.”
“So unleash the unstoppable sword, man.”
“And kill the whole village at the same time.”
Bobby shook his head, “You didn’t kill us. You saved us.”
“I got lucky. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stop the sword once it gets going?”
“No man, but you do. Because you did it.”
“Once. I did it once. There is absolutely no guarantee that I could do it again. None. Nada, Zero, Zilch.”
“Okay. Okay. So what else do you have?” Bobby asked.
“Well, I’m still attuned to the vertebrate of the First Hero. So I can take a beating. And I’m still attuned to the crimson cord, so I’ve basically got one video game style healing potion. In theory, I could use the ring of Li Jun fan. I’m still attuned to it. But last time I tried that, I just made the bakumera mad.”
“See, you’ve faced it before and lived.”
“Yeah, and I only had to make a dark pact with The Quintuple Lords of Misfortune. So no biggie, right?”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes really. So that’s hanging over my head like a sword of bloody Damacles. And I don’t plan on going into further debt with a demon lord to get out of this pickle too.”
“Damn dude. So you can take a hit. Any incantations?”
“I’m still really green on incantations. I know your bubble incantation.”
“That’s not likely to help. Anything else?”
“I know. Believe me, I know. As to other incantations. I know an incantation that stuns everyone around it. It’s kind of like that shout in Skyrim. But it’s got no versatility. The incantation affects anyone who hears it. And I know a tracking incantation that allows me to see my quarry through objects and hear it regardless of how far away it is.”
“Okay, that last one is good. You’ll know where the bakumera is. That’s an advantage. That makes it harder for the thing to hunt you.”
“You aren’t wrong. Maybe I can use the Skyrim wannabe shout to stun it long enough to get in a good punch with the ring?”
“Or the sword.”
“I’m not using the sword. Not unless it’s that or die.”
“Dude it’s your secret weapon. It’s your super powered evil side. You need to embrace it.”
“Bloody grin embraces through the sternum.
“What is it?” I asked, staring at the shape in distance as it moved towards us.
“I can’t tell,” Bobby answered, “Maybe a cow or a buffalo. It might even by a rhinoceros. I think I see a horn, but it doesn’t look right.”
We’d been travelling for a few hours and we’d noticed a shape keeping pace with us about an hour ago. The shape had closed near enough that we could now identify it as a quadruped of some sort. But looking at it, I swore I should be able to recognize it more accurately than just, some sort of four legged animal. But I couldn’t place it.
“Do we want to out pace it? Can we out pace it?” Bobby asked.
“We’re on foot. We have two and it has four. We probably can’t.” I answered.
“Then should we wait and face it on our own terms?” Bobby asked.
“Are you actually suggesting we fight rather than flee? That’s not like you.” I said.
“I’d suggest hiding, but we’re on the savannah. There’s nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.”
“So we wait?”
“I guess.” Bobby said.
We waited. And we watched as the shape grew on the horizon. The creature was enormous, larger than a buffalo but smaller than an elephant. It looked like its mother been a warhorse and its father had been rhinoceros. A single horn that split into two blunt horns extended from it’s nose.
The creature slowed down and stopped about forty feet from us. The creature dipped its front end in imitation of bow.
“Hello noble lords. I am Dulceoris the Monoceros, mount of heroes. And I am here to offer my services to the hero known as Freeman Harbinger.”
“What?” I said.
I had a problem. I had consented to Ducleoris’ request and allowed him to act as my mount. But I was concerned. Ducleoris called himself a Monoceros. And I recognized that term, but I couldn’t place it. I knew that I should know what a Monoceros was, but I couldn’t place it. I wanted to ask Bobby, but didn’t want to upset Ducleoris. And it seemed rude to discuss what somebody was while in their presence.
“So, Ducleoris,” I asked, “how long have you been acting as a mount to heroes?”
“I have been doing this for generations. I was mount to the chief who preceded the pretender we are journeying now to meet.”
“Pretender?” I asked.
“Aye. Pretender. The heir to the chiefdom was by rights the old chief’s son, but this upstart took the role despite a total lack of heroic lineage. I could not be more disgusted. But now at least, a proper hero is heading there, and I trust that thigns shall right themselves in due course.”
I looked at Bobby and pointedly scrunched my face up. Bobby made an odd expression and then quietly shrugged. This felt off, but I couldn’t quite place why. I felt slightly drunk, I realized, my thinking a little slurred. I traced my actions over the previous several hours, but could think of nothing out of the ordinary that would cause the effect. I considered asking Dulceoris, then decided that it was probably nothing- fatigue or similar.
“So you think that the village has problems?” I asked.
“Nothing that couldn’t be fixed by the restoration of the proper order. Just a matter of making people understand the need to make the necessary corrections.”
As we approached the village, I noticed smoke rising.
Bobby put a hand above his eyes, “Is the village on fire?”
From my perch on Ducleoris, I had a better view, “The village does appear to have a larger bonfire than I would call safe.”
The village was decorated in flower garlands and paper streamers. They had been celebrating clearly. I paused and noticed a crowd of people outside the walls with warriors with spear stationed between the crowd and the village.
“Bobby,” I said, “I suspect something is amiss.”
“You see now what I mean?” Ducleoris said, “The village is in flames. I see something large and feral roaming amidst those thatched roofs. The false chief cannot even keep monsters outside his walls. You are a stranger to these people, but even you would be a better chief.”
Ducleoris paused.
“In fact, that may be the best solution. Challenge the Chief and best him. Take his place and right the disorder we see before us.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Ducleoris. But I’m not about to settle in to manage a village. I have no experience as an administrator. And I have duties I owe to the Sleeper.”
“You do not need experience. You are a hero, such things sort themselves out. As to your teacher, this would not take long. Take a wife or two and sire a few heirs. And then, when you have a proper heir, you can pass on the chiefdom to him and continue with your apprenticeship.”
“Okay,” I paused, “Three points. One, I have a girlfriend in the shallows. She doesn’t do incursions. Two, do you know how long it would take for a child to reach an age where they can lead a tribe? And three, having my DNA wouldn’t make them a good chief.”
“Trust in the lineage, my hero. Trust in the lineage.”
We approached the group. And as we approached, I noticed the warriors eyeing us with drawn lips and clenched jaws. As we got closer, the jaws relaxed and the lips widened into smiles. I looked at Bobby, but he seemed not to have noticed the change in expression. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
An older man in brigandine armor and a cassowary feather headdress approached us.
“Are you Professor Harbinger,” He said, pointing at me, “I recognize the young brewmaster.”
Bobby nodded, “Yup. The Professor and the drunk. That’s us.”
“And who is your steed? I swear I should know him.”
“I am Ducleoris, steed of heroes. And we are here to fix your monster problem.”
The man took off his headdress to rub his temples, before replacing his headdress.
“This has been a taxing day. I am exhausted, and I now feel as though I am drunk. But I am grateful to see you. Professor, your reputation is impressive. We know you have survived an encounter with the bakumera before. We had meant to give you a challenge. Now we must ask for your aid. The bakumera has invaded our village seeking the spear.”
“Is it alone in there?” I asked.
“We has evacuated our children. Three of our greatest warriors stayed behind to hold the line. I do not believe they survive.”
Ducleoris leaned its enormous head down, “Why are you not with them?”
“I am not one of our best warriors, and I am past my prime. I can serve well in a shield wall, but I would get in the way of those three were I too stay.”
“You are the chief, are you not?” Ducleoris pressed.
“I am. And I know the capabilities of our people better than anyone. And so I coordinate our people. They trust that I know how best to allocate our resources.”
“The chief should lead from the front.”
“That would not be the best use of the tribe’s resources.”
“Ducleoris, leave it.” I said.
“Of course Master Harbinger.”
I didn’t like that phrase, but couldn’t place why.
“You can do this.”
“I genuinely don’t think I can.”
“You resisted the thing’s spell man. I couldn’t.” Bobby said as I helped him up.
“I didn’t know I was resisting. I just did it.” I answered.
“Yeah, like you resisted Bloody Grin man. That’s why you’ve got a wanted poster, and I’m just listed on the poster for Archmage St. Pierre.”
“I did resist them both, didn’t I?”
“What are you thinking man?”
I made a decision.
“Bobby! Bubble up!”
“Now?” Bobby asked.
“Now! Do it!”
Bobby stepped back and uttered the incantation. I waited until the bubble had enclosed him and lifted out of reach. Then I reached out with my mind and drew the cursed blade known as Bloody Grin from the ether. I felt the sword scream in delight as it took control of my body and dragged me forward.
Dulceoris had no time to react and Bloody Grin tore a clean and bloody line from the beast’s throat to its hip. The monoceros fell to the ground without a sound beyond the impact of its weight upon the earth. And then Bloody Grin dragged me about to face the bakumera. The snakes protruding from the monster’s face hissed in a way that sounded like laughter. But Bloody Grin appeared not to notice, and we hurtled towards the ancient monster. The bakumera lunged forward and blocked Bloody Grin’s blade with the open halves of its mask. The snake attached to the tail whipped towards my leg. Bloody Grin twisted in my hands and blocked the blow, and then slammed into my chest and the sword shoved me out of reach of the three snakes on the monster’s face.
And then I felt something. Bloody Grin felt afraid in my hands. I had never felt that before. And further, I could think. Bloody Grin’s hold on my mind was weakening. Bloody Grin itself felt weaker in my hands. Then I knew. The bakumera feeds on reliquaries and artifacts. It was feeding on Bloody Grin. The bakumera might be the one thing that Bloody Grin feared.
“Well crap,” I whispered.
The bakumera forced Bloody Grin to backpedal as it pressed its advantage, serpent fangs snapped at my face and leonine claws swung at my torso. The sword was clearly not used to being at a disadvantage, and even less used to having to defend its host. I knew then that I was going to lose. And the bakumera would have the spear.
“Wait just a minute,” I gasped, “It doesn’t want the spear. It feeds on artifacts. It just wants dinner. Any artifact is dinner.”
I felt my hands clench involuntarily around Bloody Grin. The sword had figured out what I was planning. But the sword was weak from its battle with the bakumera, and I was able to mentally overpower it. Slowly, painfully, I unclenched my hands and released the sword. Bloody Grin fell to the ground in front of me. The bakumera stopped. The snakes retreated into its skull and the mask closed. The monster looked at me, and then tilted its head in apparent confusion.
“Take it,” I said, “It’s yours. Dinner.”
The snake on the bakumera’s tail reached out and picked up Bloody Grin. The beast huffed at me like a smug house cat and then turned and trotted off with its prize.
I let out my breath and fell to the ground.
“The Monoceros is a dangerous tempter.” The Chief said, helping me to my feet, ” To defeat it by resisting its flattery is impressive.”
“I wouldn’t call that resisting,” I answered.
“And yet you did. And more besides, you protected our sacred spear and defeated one of the Great Old Monsters.”
“I fed one of the Great Old Monsters, and I let a cursed artifact defeat the Monoceros.”
“Why are you so intent on disparaging yourself?”
I stopped and looked into the older man’s weathered face. He smiled and I smiled back.
“I don’t know. I guess I feel like I’m play acting.”
“Of course you are play acting. This is the Story. We all have our parts to play. And you come from the Shallows. You have not been raised on the stories. You have not heard them from birth. Have you?”
“Not at all. Living in the Shallows basically means living in the Mirrored City and not knowing it. I had to learn everything I know since I dropped myself into the Painted Labyrinth by accident.”
A pause.
“You did what?”
“My first incursion into the Depths landed me in the Painted Labyrinth.”
“But you did this yourself? With no help?”
“He did it himself.” I heard the voice of a younger woman and turned.
“Hello teacher.”
“You have divested yourself of Bloody Grin. That was a wise calculation.”
“He doesn’t understand the significance of what he has done?” The chief asked.
“He never has.”
“I’m right here folks. You know that right?”
They ignored me.
Professor Harbinger's School for Villains 