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389. Battle?
🕑 Added 2025-05-11 14:00:11 +0000 UTC“Shall we?”
“Why should we?” Brightbriar remained as composed as ever, in the wreckage of the ballroom, surrounded by shattered puppets and the remains of what had been a party. In the corner where live music had been playing, the cellist peered out from behind his instrument, then vanished once more when he saw the combatants hadn’t left yet. Casually, Brightbriar drew a chair from one of the tables at the edge of the dance floor, turned it to face Ike, and sat in it. “I am here, happily reunited with my darling son. What do we need to fight over?”
“He’s a puppet,” Ike realized, and sighed. Why not, after all? The king had been the one to enforce Brightbriar’s in-person attendance. Instead of coming in person, Brightbriar had transformed the king into a puppet. Once that was done, there was no longer anyone to enforce Brightbriar’s personal attendance, so naturally, the man had sent a puppet.
“We can still beat him up. That’s never stopped us before,” Wisp pointed out.
“I know, but it just feels so empty,” Ike said.
“What else would we do? Talk to him?” Wisp scoffed.
Ike shrugged. “I mean, I have a lot of questions.”
“And I, many answers.”
“We aren’t talking to you, fuckface,” Wisp bit. She turned back to Ike. “You’re talking crazy. You’ve never sounded so human before in your life. What’s he got to say that’s worth hearing? I say we beat his ass and go back to searching the city for his base. Tear the whole thing down if we have to. Drag out the real Brightbriar, and beat his ass all over again.”
“No, I’m—I’m totally down with that. I agree. I just… you know. It’s my chance for answers.”
“Answers about what?”
“About the greater being. How we ended up here, with the fragments, and Brightbriar all fucked up in the head, and everything. What it was, and why he’s doing this.”
Wisp cocked her head. “Does any of that matter?”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“I’m a fragment. I’m a piece of the greater being.”
Wisp shook her head. “No.”
“No?” Ike asked, laughing a little.
“Nope. You’re Ike. A savage kid who doesn’t know what he wants to do, but he’s here to have a good time until he figures it out. You do what you want, not what other people want you to do. And what this asshole,” she pointed at Brightbriar, “wants you to do, is have a nice cozy chat with daddy dearest, while he fucks off to do whatever he needs to do to fuck us over. He’s stalling for time, Ikey boy. Come on.”
Ike raised his brows. He looked at Wisp. “I’ve never found you as persuasive as I find you in this moment.”
Wisp grinned, pleased with herself. “Don’t you know? I’m a famed philosophisician.”
“Philosopher. And no you aren’t,” Mag chirped up.
“Ike, who are you going to listen to? Your father? Or—”
“My friend, who’s fought alongside me for years, or my father, who’s tried to kill me more times than I can count? Yeah. Easy pick, dungwad. You’ve never done a second of fathering in your life.” Ike stuck his tongue out at Brightbriar and approached, drawing back the Hungry Sword.
Brightbriar smiled up at him. Ike hammered the strike home. Porcelain shards spilled across the room, and there was silence.
Ike stared down at the wreckage. His chest heaved. A great emptiness welled up inside him, one he couldn’t quite place. His father. Brightbriar’s quest. All those things he’d wondered, like—had his mother been in love, had his father been kind—all answered, in the most horrible way possible. And a thousand new questions opening up inside him, things he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to.
“See? This is why we eat the men. If your mother had just eaten him, we could’ve avoided all this bullshit,” Wisp offered, crossing her arms with a blunt nod.
Ike laughed aloud as her words shattered the tension within him. “Yeah, yeah. Come on. There’s still time.”
Her brows furrowed. “For you to—oh! Ikey boy! Are you offering for me to eat your dad in the place of your mom? I’m honored,” Wisp said, hopping onto his Shawn-less shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m gonna eat a dad today!”
“Scar, you alive?” Ike called.
“I’m fine,” she said, from the other side of the ballroom. She stood, kicking aside the pieces of the puppets she’d been rooting through. “I think I found a hint as to where Brightbriar’s making these things. No guarantee it’s his hideout, but it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Oh, yeah? What’d you find?” Ike asked, curious.
“Come on, out with it. I got some dad-eatin’ to do, and my buffet time was interrupted,” Wisp said impatiently.
Mag fluttered over. “Shiny!”
“That’s right. Shiny.” Scar held up a gemstone. “He was using this as the eyes of one of the puppets. It’s a particular kind of magical stone that’s only found in one small part of the region.”
Ike turned. “Let’s go.”
“Meat, meat, human meat—”
“Wait, wait, wait. It’s only found in one small part of the region, but I really don’t think he’s hanging out in a gemstone mine for his puppets’ eyes’ sake.”
“Yeah, dummy,” Wisp chided Ike.
“Who was just singing about human meat and all gung-ho to go to the mine?” Ike asked.
Wisp grinned.
Ignoring the two idiots, Scar pressed on. “It’s brought into the city by one trader, an adventurer by the name of Ikotz. We’ve had her pegged as a potential puppet for a while now, but this confirms it.”
“So?” Ike prompted.
“So, we’ve been watching Ikotz for some time now. We know where she comes and goes. They use that moving Tower of theirs to hide where she’s going, but there are times when they think no one’s watching, and she goes directly to the warehouse instead. Until now, we only suspected she was a puppet, doing something for Brightbriar. But if she’s supplying puppet eyes, then she must be going directly to the place where puppets are made. Wherever that is, it’ll be immensely important to Brightbriar. Even if it’s not his base, it’ll do a great deal of harm to him.”
“And draw him out, so I can eat him,” Wisp appended.
“I would prefer if we questioned and executed him, but as long as he finally ends up dead, I’m sure we can make a few compromises,” Scar allowed.
“Excellent, because I get the vibes that Wisp is hungry and uninterested in compromises,” Ike said. He holstered the Hungry Sword and headed to the nearest window, looking down on the city. “Where is it?”
“From here? It’s—you can see it. The green roof, over there—oh, hey!” Scar grabbed for Ike as he passed by, but she was too slow. Ike leaped out the window and sprinted over the roofs toward the green-roofed building.
“People hate that… dammit.” Scar sighed and chased after him, while Mag happily spread his wings and gave chase yet again.
