Varus felt his emotions go from annoyed and confused to slightly angry, and his hands tensed on his hips as he processed her outrageous suggestion. “Me? A Demon King? Me?” He asked with a shake of his head. “If what you say is true, then why didn’t I do that already? According to you, it’s been thousands of years. Shouldn’t I have turned evil by now? Tormenting real people instead of just fictional characters?” He had no eyebrow to raise, but even Lithia could tell he was incredulous just by way of his voice.
“I still don’t really believe you’re Varus but…” She pursed her lips and stared away from him, down at the book that still called out to her.
“Yes?” Varus pressed the question, though he came no closer, allowing her space to gather her thoughts. ‘It’s absurd, isn’t it? Me? A demon king? Yes, demons will accept an undead master, but even so…’ Absurd as it seemed, at least that much made it possible.
“Maybe the caster thought you would on your own?” She shrugged. “In the stories, all past Demon Kings were powerful beings, and since the undead are naturally hostile toward mortals unless controlled by a summoner or during a ‘Turning’ ceremony, I can only think he believed you would follow your desire to conquer and dominate and…do what uncontrolled undead usually do. If you are the real Varus, then you were known as one of the most aggressive and powerful knights of your time. Your last name is literally used as a title for royal bodyguards to this day.”
“I am the real Varus, thank you very much.” Varus retorted, but her explanation made a certain amount of sense. He rubbed his bone jaw for a moment, “What you say does make sense, but do you know why I was so aggressive during the war?”
“A zeal for justice?” Lithia asked. And when Varus shook his head, she raised her golden left eyebrow.
“A zeal for righteousness?” She guessed again, and Varus shook his head once more.
“A zeal for the goddess’s favor?” She posed the thought and her brow furrowed as he shook his head, adding a fervent and emphatic…
“No.” to his shaking head.
“A desire to see the innocent safe from harm and protect them from the demon king?” She guessed, and Varus’s shoulder’s drooped at her wildly wrong notions as he shook his head once more.
“That’s guessing ‘justice’ with more words.” He retorted, and walked away to seat himself at his desk, he turned halfway to face her and placed his hand on his ongoing manuscript, the paper gave slightly beneath his heavy skeletal hand while he replied, “This.”
“Say what?” Lithia retorted, and Varus chuckled a little.
“I said, this.” He tapped his index finger over the paper, “All I wanted, my whole life, from the time I was a little boy, until I died as a grown man, was to tell stories. I’d have been a bard if I’d been born a peasant. I loved the growth of worlds beneath my fingers, my characters, they’re the only friends I really needed. They aren’t figments of my imagination as they are to you. They live, breathe, laugh, love, hate, age, and pass away. They’re with me every hour…when I’m not interrupted by unexpected visitors.” He pointedly said, and over his shoulder he could practically feel the shade of his hero clap him on the shoulder.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“You tell her! We’ve got a lot to do, and we can’t just sit around on the last page waiting forever. Come on! Get back to our story so we can save our world!” The hero replied, and Varus idly thought…
‘You just want another go at your new bride.’ And he felt his character flush red and grin sheepishly as he hit the nail on the head.
Lithia took that in with a stupefied expression on her face while Varus continued.
“The quicker I got any campaign won, any monster slain, any criminal captured, the sooner I could return to learning the way of letters and storytelling, knowing that one day, one day I would have the time to create the worlds I saw in dreams both waking and sleeping. I-” He paused and looked at the book beneath her hand where a finger still marked her place so she could resume reading again, “I suppose when I rose from the dead, my desire to create was the dominating force. Perhaps that’s why I never bothered to find out what happened after I was gone.”
That was something of a comfort, that it wasn’t entirely his fault he was selfish enough to not find out anything in the aftermath of the battle, the fate of his friends, the fate of the world he fought to defend.
“But you might still become a demon king.” She pointed out. “Real Varus or not, you’re clearly strong, and you have no master to keep you contained.” Lithia’s face grew grave and her fingers tensed over the book.
“That’s true.” Varus pointed out and raised one finger from his hand to make a point, “But the same is true for you. Or any hero today. The demon king I remember was a living person. And whether you accept my identity or not, it’s beyond doubt that I sent for somebody on my own. I need your help, and that I can do that suggests I’m still in control of my own mind. If you insist on fighting again…we can do that. But I’d rather not. I have stories to write and I’m tired of being interrupted.”
“I’m not the smartest woman,” Lithia admitted, “but I know I can’t beat you. So… if you’re not going to sacrifice me in some dark ritual, what is it you really want?”
“What I said…or…meant to say through my summon.” Varus said and held his hand out with palm upturned in a gesture toward the door. “I want you to take Tuesday and Hannah, and bring them somewhere safe. Find them good homes with good people, make sure they get good lives. I’ll give you a few extra books you can sell to raise the money to provide for them, and then…I need you to do nothing. That is all, just get them somewhere they can grow up.”
Varus spread out his hands in askance, but before any reply could come his way from her, Tuesday and Hannah burst through the door and shouted…
“Varus! She messed up my feathers!”
“Nuh uh! She did it!”
“No! You did it! That was my feather! Then you kicked my pile!”
The two mimicked one another’s words exactly, cat tail and fox tail bristling alike as they stomped their feet and shouted their matching accusations at one another while Lithia stared back and forth from one to the other and then at Varus again. ‘If he means to harm them, I’ll eat my sword with mushroom sauce.’ She thought, and while the pair continued to point fingers, rock on their feet, and demand that Varus give them justice over one another, she gave the watching Elder Lich a single, decisive…nod.
