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5. The Hat
🕑 Added 2022-05-21 02:03:19 +0000 UTC“A prince!” Aalap gasped.
“Technically two,” Sachie corrected.
“Former,” said Avery and Birger in unison.
Aalap was dying to know the details and understand their stances. “I don’t think I could ever renounce that title,” he said, with no hint of prejudice. “To have two men who did though sitting before me, what a wonder.”
“It was never my mother’s aim for me to take the throne, and well…it all seems rather boring, the position. So much pressure for so little reward,” Avery said. “I wish Emery accepted my apathy for what it truly is—apathy.”
The three regarded Birger, waiting on bated breath for his reasoning, but he merely stared at his empty plate, and said, “May I have another slice of cake?”
Aalap chuckled and retrieved Birger’s plate, disappearing into the backroom.
The three sat in an awkward silence until Sachie said, “You’re making me seem stupid.”
Avery was offended. “I am not!”
“You make me seem stupid and temperamental.”
The mage rolled his eyes. “I’m merely recounting what I’ve experienced.”
Birger rubbed the stubble growing on his chin. “Feels like you’re leaving a lot out.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Your thoughts.”
Avery blew a raspberry. “Like I can recall past thoughts with such clarity. Besides—people are captivated by action not ruminations,” he muttered, twisting one of his rings around and around.
The two men started their usual back-and-forth and Sachie tuned them out. She looked over at one of the windows, illumed by the glow of the setting sun. An uneasiness crept into her. It wasn’t often the three of them shared a quiet moment, and this one felt drawn out, an ominous precursor disguised as spontaneous relaxation—or some such. Paranoia aside, she knew the world wasn’t so giving. She pulled her mace onto her lap, comforted by its weight, and then stared at her companions, feeling a flurry of guilt then tenderness then apprehension.
Aalap returned with a fresh pot of tea and two slices of cake for Birger. “I was wondering, how did you come to find my haberdashery? You’ve made your way through Terranea’s Pass…in search of a hat, was it?”
“Oh, my hat,” said Avery with theatrical dismay.
“I wanna tell it,” Sachie said. “I reckon Avery’s still sore over the whole thing…”
***
Sachie struggled, neck sore and heart hammering with terror, a sensation she hadn’t felt in some time.
The three of them had been captured by a traveling collective known as the Gourmets, a fitting name since they—as they explained—enjoyed eating people. After a series of missteps and blunders—she, Avery, and Birger found themselves at the mercy of the Gourmets, imprisoned in the old fort in which they squatted. The trio sat in a defeated triangle, their necks bound and chained to the walls. Their ire at the situation quickly redirected to one another.
Birger was the surliest, obviously pissed at the situation but more so at having been beaten and confined in the first place. Sachie could practically hear his teeth grinding.
“I guess this is it, huh? What a load of shit,” she said with a sigh.
Avery was uncharacteristically quiet, looking like a forlorn puppy with the manacle around his neck.
“No final words, Tatran?” Birger mumbled, his face appeared stern, carved with heavy shadows, courtesy of the lone lamp hanging above them.
“What—that I’m in love with you?” Avery sneered.
Birger sneered back.
The mage folded his arms. “I think I have an idea, though I’m sad to part with my hat.”
“Your hat?” Sachie frowned, but her chest tightened with the possibility of escape. “What about it?” She looked at his red cavalier hat, ostentatious with its large silver feather and wide brim.
“It’s magic,” he said.
Birger huffed out a single loud laugh and then clenched his jaw. “What do you mean it’s magic?”
“It’s enchanted, you buffoon. It’s a beast in disguise.”
Sachie scowled. “You’re telling us you’ve had a magic creature sitting on your head this entire time?”
“Yes,” he said, brows furrowing comically, as if the whole idea wasn’t the slightest bit strange. “I’ve glamoured it. Or, I guess it’s glamoured itself, I can’t recall…”
“Then, use it!” Birger snarled, hand on the cuff around his throat. “What have you been waiting for?”
“Um, I love this hat alright? Once I release it, it’s gone. Think about my feelings for once, Birger!”
The two men started shouting at each other (clearly something else was underlying their tension), but all Sachie could focus on was Avery’s hat. This entire time, she thought. “Alright then—use it and buy a new one.”
Birger went silent and Avery smacked his lips. “Ugh, you don’t understand—”
“What the fuck Avery, it’s just a hat,” Sachie said, raising her voice.
“It’s not just a hat,” he mocked, face flushing with anger. “I can’t just buy another one of these. I acquired this through a series of tedious trades and no, you know what? They can eat you both for all I care.”
“They’re going to eat you too,” Birger said, looking rather smug at the notion. “Unless you use that stupid hat.”
There was the sound of muffled laugher, jangling keys, and approaching footsteps. The three went silent, their collective fear was palpable.
Birger jerked towards the mage, but he was too far, and his chain was too short, and with straining shackles he growled, “Avery, if you do not use that hat, I will hunt you down in the afterlife, and torment you for all of eternity.”
“Goddess, fine! Alright, alright—just—give me a moment to grieve.”
The sound of a lock being opened rooted a deep dread within Sachie. “Avery please,” she urged, the sound more like a harsh hiss than a whisper.
Avery sighed and took off his hat, placing in onto his lap as he bit his thumb. He muttered something, eyes closed in concentration, and then set his bleeding thumb onto the brim. And with one final mournful sigh, he tossed the hat into the center of their makeshift dungeon.
Nothing happened.
Even as the door opened and the Gourmets revealed themselves, nothing happened.
Sachie’s heart sank and Birger began thrashing about.
“Aww, looks like you dropped this, cutie,” said one of the Gourmets. “Let me grab that for you—” But he paused, eyes locked on the gaudy hat.
Another Gourmet pushed forward, craning to look. “What’s—” Another poked their head in, also curious.
A burbling, much like roiling soup, emitted from Avery’s hat. It sat, seemingly docile, until the crimson hue of it was swallowed by a pitch black, viscous and devouring.
Sachie felt the magic then and pressed her back to the wall, drawing her legs up, knees to her chest. This was blood magic. She could smell it, metallic and foul. She looked at Avery, who appeared depressed with his loss but unbothered by the horrors of which his hat underwent.
Birger’s thrashing had stilled, eyes locked on the hat—face tight with distress.
The hat reformed into black goo and then compressed itself to the floor, and out of its newly formed flatness came a hand, fast and reaching. It extended out, thin forearm attached, stretching, as if someone were pulling their weight out of unseen depths.
The Gourmets backed up out of the doorway, the leader’s keys catching the wall then releasing as he lurched backward in terror. The keyring clattered to the floor near Sachie, but just out of reach—if she wereto reach—but she was too scared to do so, too reluctant to move and draw any attention to her. The hand appeared human but with elongated fingers, flesh sickeningly pale. It groped at the floor, claws scraping as another arm squeezed out. The Gourmets became a blubbering mess, shouting, pushing past one another and sprinting down the corridors. A head squeezed out, with an unruly mane of scarlet hair. The creature grunted as it struggled, hoisting itself out from some secret realm. A cape of black smoke followed, then it’s armored legs. The portal sealed as the wraithlike creature hunched on all fours, waiting.
“Out there,” Avery said, and the creature tore out of the dungeon with a furious speed, kicking the keys closer to Sachie (and making her yelp) in its scramble.
The three sat in silence, until they heard the distant wails of distress and gore. Sachie quickly reached for the keyring and tried every key at her neck with trembling hands.
“Sachie, calm down, breathe,” Avery said. “He won’t hurt us.”
She continued trying key after key, growing irritated. Blood magic? Blood magic… She recalled all the other magic Avery had used over the course of their travels. A rare thing in itself, knowing so many spells, mastering so many types… She found the correct key and freed herself and then rushed over to Birger, freeing him as well. The two stood and Avery looked up at them, neutral.
“What? Are you going to free me or—”
“That was,” Sachie lowered her voice, “blood magic.”
“Yeah, and?”
She frowned. “That’s not…good.”
“It’s not bad either.” He laughed. “Come on, now.”
“No…it’s not good…you know too many—”
“Too many what?” Avery asked, and for a moment his boyish air wavered, replaced with a severe expression, gaze hardened, jaw clenched. Even shackled on the floor, Avery appeared disposed for her challenge.
Sachie wanted to hide behind Birger, but she stood her ground.
But then Birger took the keyring from her fingers and kneeled, unlocking the clasp around Avery’s neck.
Avery stood and sucked the blood from his thumb, anger subsiding as he regarded Sachie. “You can use magic as it pleases you, and I’ll use magic as it pleases me,” he said. “There is no good or bad here.”
The distant screams of the Gourmets faded.
Sachie wouldn’t be swayed. Usage was one thing… “It’s taboo, forbidden.”
“By whom?”
She didn’t have an answer, which frustrated her, but any mage worth their salt knew that one school of magic was plenty. She shoved past him and proceeded to search the decrepit fort for her belongings. Avery watched her leave, thumb pressed to his lips. Birger’s warm palm touched the back of his neck.
“Good or bad, it’s all strange to me,” the knight said, and Avery chuckled.
But then Birger’s grip tightened, fingers digging into Avery’s neck, tugging him back so that they were in an intimate position—romantic, if not for Birger’s frightening expression. “Next time, if you have a boon, use it.”
