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385. Alone in this Room
🕑 Added 2025-05-07 14:00:16 +0000 UTCIke stared at Brightbriar. This was it. This was everything. The end, or maybe the beginning. The obstacle before him, that he had to clear before he could become. His hand clenched, and his eyes narrowed.
Brightbriar gazed across the room, a neutral smile on his face, bored eyes barely taking in any faces. He passed over the present faces without taking any particular notice of Ike. Beside him, Rosamund tugged his hand, asking for his help to descend the stairs with her floofy rose dress and its massive train, and he turned with a smile to support her on the way down the stairs.
Just like ever. Ike was nothing. He was a bug, a bump in the road. He snorted, unimpressed this time. Brightbriar could act that way, but he’d seen through the man. Sure, he could pretend he didn’t care about Ike, but now Ike could see all his intervention in his life. Dropping the skill. Pretending not to see him in the Abyss. The city of puppets, where he drew the noble’s attention away from Ike. All the other times he could have killed Ike, or his underlings could have, only to flinch at the last moment. Ike mattered to him. And given his test with the archer earlier, he mattered more than any of Brightbriar’s more preciously raised children. Ike was the result he wanted to find. Ike was his goal. If he wanted to play coy, that was on him, but Ike knew better. Ike knew the truth. No matter whether Brightbriar was bluffing, or simply hadn’t noticed him—ha, as if, when I can feel his aura from here—he knew he was the key to the man’s plans.
Sure, it might have been wiser to flee, to run away and hide, so that Brightbriar’s plans could never be realized, but Ike wasn’t that kind of guy. Run away? No. He ran fast so he could reach you faster, not so that he could escape you. Besides, he was pretty sure Brightbriar wanted him to run away, collect other fragments, and power up. After all, Brightbriar wanted a complete version of the greater being. There was no way he could get that if Ike said ‘fuck it’ and charged directly at him, but he got it by default if Ike kept running in the opposite direction and picking up pieces. Back before he’d met the fog sprite, or whatever that figure in the infant graveyard had been, he’d thought leveling up and gathering pieces was the right way to get powerful quick so he could face Brightbriar. It was still the fastest way to level up, yes, but since it gave Brightbriar what he wanted at the same time, it was better to confront him in this halfway-state rather than to collect all the pieces, then try to come at him. Then he’d simply be giving Brightbriar what he wanted, all wrapped up into a nice gift.
Right now, Brightbriar still had a reason to leave Ike alive, rather than directly try to revive the greater being, since as far as Ike could tell, he was the only fragment who could absorb other fragments. Even if he lost, he at least (probably) wouldn’t die. If he came here with all the fragments, Brightbriar had no reason to not outright kill him with an overpowered spell from a thousand miles away, then harvest his efforts to generate the greater being… or whatever it was he wanted to do, once all the fragments were pieced back together. Maybe… breed Ike with Rosamund? His nose wrinkled at the thought. Gods, I hope not. Not only was Rosamund not exactly his type, but she was also his sister, maybe, kind of, and kind of also him. He wasn’t sure which one was worse of the two of those, but he didn’t want any piece of either.
Well, it’s still just my guess that Brightbriar wants to breed Rosamund in the first place, he reasoned. It made sense to him, but then, maybe Brightbriar really was just trying to set up a takeover-by-marriage in this region, and had generated a female version of the greater being for no other reason than that the king of the region had a son. It honestly made as much sense as Ike’s reasoning. There was no reason he couldn’t take over the region by the force of his puppet army, but who knew? Maybe the king could actually overpower Brightbriar, or maybe Brightbriar was bored of conquest, and wanted to play around with a spot of castle politics instead of boring warfare. It wasn’t like Brightbriar couldn’t try this route, then launch his puppets if it failed.
Honestly, I don’t get why the king is letting that rat run around freely, Ike thought, especially if the king was actually more powerful than Brightbriar. Maybe it was that the king didn’t feel threatened by Brightbriar, but even so, the only good cockroach was a dead cockroach, and Brightbriar definitely qualified as a roach.
Ike shook his head. All this speculation was useless, in the end. The only thing that mattered was reality, and whether or not he could defeat Brightbriar. That was his only path to true freedom: defeating Brightbriar, and striding out on his own path in life.
Brightbriar reached the bottom of the stairs and started milling with the crowd, smiling, laughing, and taking offered hands. Ike hesitated for just a moment, then marched toward him. He needed to know. He was tired of all this wondering, theorizing, and nonsense. He wanted the real answers, directly from the man himself.
The party had scattered. Mag bounced by a pillar, his eyes big, staring at the gilded ceiling in greedy wonder, and Wisp stuffed herself at the buffet, ignoring the hovering servants who nervously tried to approach her and inform her that the buffet hadn’t opened yet. Scar stood nearby, giggling with a group of nobles. As Ike strode forward, she startled, then made her excuses and hurried after him, weaving through the crowd. Ike didn’t wait for her. He knew what she’d tell him, and honestly, she was right, but he was so tired of this bullshit. There was one way to cut directly to the heart of the matter, and it was right in front of him. He was going to do it, no matter what anyone else thought. He’d never let anyone else’s opinions control him, and he wasn’t about to start now.
As he closed in on Brightbriar, the man looked up at last. Their eyes met, and a knowing smile crawled over Brightbriar’s face. He gestured Ike in, welcoming him, as the spider to the fly.
And the fly, who was friends with a different spider, walked in.
