The Simulacrum

A little less than an hour later, I was standing in front of the stairs leading to the upper floors of the Chasm of Desolation, and eventual freedom. But first…

"Bed?" I asked, and my cute companion stood straight like a tiny soldier giving a report.

"I made it!" Ollie declared with a comically serious look.

For once, he was wearing the kind of outfit you would expect to see on a young Abyssal aristocrat. His bowl-cut was extra tidy after lots of brushing, and the combination of his spotless white silk shirt with its huge sailor collar, dark blue vest, matching velvet breeches, and thick white stockings ending in a pair of small leather shoes with oversized fancy bucklers made him look like he just stepped out of a period drama. It also made him look gosh darn precious, but at this point, that went without saying.

"Toys?" I asked next, and he puffed up his chest.

"They're all in the box!"

"Games?"

"I put all of them under the television!" After a beat, he also added, "Oh, and I coiled up the cables, too."

"Good job."

I mean, it wasn't likely that anyone would come down here and get tangled in the controller cables, but it was better to be tidy. I also whipped my own cell into presentable shape, put all the books and other stuff back onto the shelves, and stored Cal and Teeny in my storage space for quick retrieval. As for my outfit, I decided to stick with the Polemos gear, because I figured it would have the biggest effect on the onlookers.

In other words, we were ready to move out, so I gestured for Ollie with a smile and a playful, "Hop on."

I didn't have to say it twice. He practically leapt over to my side and raised his arms so that I could lift and hold him on my hip, with his hands clasped behind my neck. I had little experience lugging kids around (I was much more familiar with the traditional princess carry thanks to the girls), but Abyssal nobility or not, I was pretty sure Ollie would be completely wiped out by the stairs if he tried to climb them next to me. Heck, even I found them aggravating, and I had physical enhancements to rely on.

Thus prepared, we began our journey to the top, and while the kid remained quiet for three whole floors, it was only a question of time before he would get bored.

"Uncle Polemos?"

"Yes, Beansprout?"

"Are we going to meet Aunty Dormouse and Aunty Princess?"

"Yes, but remember what I told you? When you meet them in person, you should call them Judy and Eleanor."

"Ah! R-Right!"

He balled up a fist to show that he was serious about this, but that meant he was no longer clinging onto me and he almost lost his balance. I hefted him a bit so he would remain stable, and once he grabbed onto me again and felt secure, he continued the previous conversation like nothing happened.

"Are we going to meet Uncle Antonio too?"

Now it was my turn to falter, and after some quick thinking, I told him, "Probably, yes. His situation is a little… complicated, so I'm not sure where or how we'll run into him."

It was at this point that I reached the top of a flight of stairs and was ready to move onto the next, but I stopped in my tracks and squinted. According to the unwritten laws of comedic timing, this was the exact moment when future-me would show up and casually greet me right as I turn the corner, just like… this!

"Ha!"

There was nobody behind the wall separating the stairwell from the cells. But wait. Future-me was me from the future (and also redundancy is redundant, but that's beside the point), so he would know that I would expect him to show up here, so instead he would show up… behind me!

"Double-ha!"

There was nobody behind us either.

"Uncle Polemos? What are you doing?"

"… Nothing, Beansprout. I'm just being overtly cautious, I guess."

Honestly speaking, the whole premise of trying to surprise myself by playing along with the rules of comedic timing was flawed, because I would expect it, and future me would know I'd expect it, and therefore, there was no point in doing it. Of course, he could be just busy elsewhere, orchestrating the grand finale and all, and I was simply overthinking this. Or… maybe that's what future-me wanted me to think, so that I would lower my guard, and then he would—

Ollie jolted me out of my train of thought with a sudden, "Look! What's that?"

I stopped and followed his finger pointing at the bright yellow square on the far wall. It was definitely suspicious, so I cautiously walked over, only to realise that it was just a standard-issue, self-adhesive post-it-note. It said…

"Yes, you're overthinking it. I really am busy elsewhere. See you soon. P.S.: Hi, Ollie."

"Oooh? Was this left behind by Uncle Antonio?" the boy in my arms asked excitedly as soon as I finished reading, and I couldn't help but nod.

"Sure seems like it." I also followed that up with a quiet, "Goddamit, me," but that was beside the point.

We continued on our way, up the next flight of stairs, and I used the lull in the conversation to summarise my thoughts. In short, we were supposed to meet soon, which meant the finale was probably even closer than I already expected. After all, everyone and everything was converging for the final battle with Crowy and Bel, so it was effectively a given that the next time I met future-me face to face, it would be for a climactic faceoff. An ultimate showdown, if you will. Potentially of the ultimate destiny variety.

I was kind of expecting Ollie to start asking questions again, but then I realised that future-me's note effectively answered his previous one, so he must've felt content. Or at the very least, content enough to remain silent and hug my neck. Or maybe the atmosphere was getting to him? Sure, as we got higher, the magic-dampening effects of the Chasm of Desolation lessened, but while the bottom floors were effectively empty, these upper ones had a few prisoners moaning and groaning and rattling their chains.

He was still a child, after all, and when I hugged him a bit closer, he automatically buried his face into my neck. Yep, he was spooked all right. I patted his back a bit to make him feel better, and I was so focused on that, I almost didn't notice the movement at the end of the hallway on the top floor.

"[Who goes there? Show yourself!]"

Ollie tensed up, so I redoubled my back-patting efforts and continued to casually walk towards the source of the warning. Was it time for Refuge in Audacity? Silly question.

"[I said halt, or I'll…!]"

The Faun guard levelled his halberd and squinted at me, only to freeze up when our eyes met.

"[I wish upon you an evening of pleasant quality,]" I spoke as I casually triggered a Rite of Dominance, establishing a connection through which I could sense waves of apprehension crashing towards me, each one topped by the white foam of confusion. I didn't send out any mental spectres yet, and only maintained eye contact until we were a couple of steps away from each other, then stopped. "[My countenance is ill-suited from merriments of felines and rodents today, so I reckon you place your feet in a lateral direction and allow me passage of the unrestricted manner.]"

"[Ah… But… Um…]"

For further emphasis, I summoned four ghostly copies of myself through the Rite, mirrored by the Faun's outline blurring with pale orange light. They didn't move; I was just staring him down with four more instances of me, and it clearly made him sweat quite a bit.

"[I request that you construct your cognizance upwards, because my patience is a well of insufficient water.]"

The familiar Faun (I was pretty sure I passed by him at least half a dozen times in the past) was quick on the uptake and evaluated his options in record time. He closed his eyes, which was effectively the equivalent of admitting defeat in the Rites of Dominance, pulled back his halberd, and sheepishly shuffled to the side.

"[I didn't meet you tonight.]"

I stepped forward, then stopped in front of him and told him, "[A man of sense less common than it should be, you are. Once the day of reckoning has drawn to a close, you shall partake in trifling castigation for your dereliction of duty, then obtain an advancement, for people of sense must be honoured.]"

"[Erm… Thank… you?]"

"You're welcome," I told him, this time not in Faunish for extra impact, and then I continued to stroll towards the exit with Ollie in hand.

Around halfway through the conversation, he stopped covering and began to look at me with a mixture of awe and confusion, and once we were out of the petrified Faun's earshot, he said, "You sounded so funny."

"Did I?"

He vehemently nodded and tried to mimic me, though it sounded more like a certain hairy crossbow-wielding space-alien than any Faun I'd ever heard.

"It was like that!"

"Really? Aunty Elly said it sounded more like Mongolian throat singing."

I spoke absently while scanning the perimeter, and my casual words made him tilt his head to the side.

"Mongolian? That's a country, right? Do Fauns live there too?"

"No, it's… complicated." I hefted him again and told him, "Once we're out of here, ask Aunty Elly about it. I'm sure she'll be happy to explain the details."

"Okay!"

Meanwhile, we were nearing the entrance of the prison. The yawning natural cave opening wasn't particularly bright at this hour, but Ollie was still squinting like he was staring at floodlights. It was probably because of how poorly lit these upper levels were, with their vintage torches and magical ceiling-circles and such. Once we got closer, he perked up even more, no doubt because he was smelling the slightly fresher air of the city, and as soon as we stepped outside…

"[Who goes there? Show yourself!]"

"Wow. Talk about déja vu…"

Needless to say, our appearance caused quite a stir, especially since I wasn't even trying to hide myself this time. As I said, every day was for Refuge in Audacity, but some days were more Refugeous in the Audacitiousness than others, and this sure as heck was one of them.

"[I… Is that the Hoar Hatter?]" a startled Faun yelped as he arrived at the scene, but nobody gave him an answer.

The original guard in the booth not far from the prison entrance was repeatedly pushing a big red button (probably some kind of alarm) while conspicuously trying to avoid eye contact, so he couldn't be bothered to respond. The same was true for the patrol group that hurriedly made their way over when they heard the commotion.

"[What's with the child? Another ghost?]"

"[Don't be stupid! Why would a ghost carry another ghost?]" a different Faun barked, his voice drawing even more of a crowd.

"[Wait, is that the Hoar Hatter? What happened to his hat?]" a newcomer blurted out.

"[I just asked that!]" the first Faun shouted, and seeing that still nobody dared to give an answer, he proposed, "[Maybe it isn't him?]"

"[Then who is it?]"

"[I don't know. You go and ask.]"

"[Why me?]"

The situation was going nowhere fast, and we were drawing an ever-bigger audience by the second, so I gently put Ollie down and raised my voice to be heard over the commotion.

"[Beast-men of Inanna, hearken to me!]"

My words made everyone tense up and fall silent, followed by a tentative voice from the back saying, "[… He sure does sound like the Hoar Hatter.]"

"[Ah, no. Nobody made eye contact, right?]"

"[Wait, but if that's the Hoar Hatter, then who's the kid?]"

"[Maybe a different ghost? Like, an Infantile … erm… Breecher?]"

"[That's a stupid name for a ghost.]"

"[Hold your horses! What if he isn't a ghost?]"

"[How should we know?]"

"[Have anyone tried to look him in the eye yet?]"

"[Do it yourself if you're so curious!]"

…

Did… Did I accidentally traumatise a whole barrack's worth of Fauns with my ghost play? That made me feel a pang of guilt, but I had no time for that right now, so I stuffed it into one of the many, many cabinets full of useless thoughts at the back of my mind and forcefully cleared my throat.

"[I said, hearken to me! I shall visit the castle of—]"

"[Wait! We need to figure this out first!]" One of the Fauns interrupted me and turned to his fellows. "[What if they aren't ghosts? Wasn't there supposed to be a man and a child locked up at the bottom of the Chasm? Maybe it's them.]"

"[Don't be idiotic, Khragwl! How are two prisoners supposed to just waltz out of the Inescapable Withering Layer of the Chasm of Desolation without anyone noticing it? Think for a second!]"

I was getting a bit impatient, so I raised my voice again, this time with a hint of exasperation creeping into my words as I bellowed, "[Cease your prattling and hearken to me already!]" That earned me a second of silence, so I quickly capitalised on it by starting over. "[In the echo of my words of the recent past, I proclaim that I shall pay a visit of official nature to the—]"

"[What is going on out there?!]"

"Oh, for god's sake…"

Once more, my words were cut short by a roar as a familiar face entered the fray. The leonine Faun in charge of the Fauns of House Inanna in general and these barracks in particular, pushed through the gaggle of guards encircling us with booming steps. He was about the same size as Brang, meaning about half a head taller than the rest of his men (not counting the horns, of course). His hair was a mane that covered his neck as well, his green-tinted breast plate was shined to a mirror finish, and he was carrying a large diamond-headed black mace that looked like he just pilfered it from the armoury of a dark lord of some kind.

"[What are you idiots standing around for?!]" he bellowed again and pointed his mace at me. "[Capture the intruders!]"

Ollie shuddered and hid behind my leg, so I lightly tousled his hair to reassure him. Meanwhile, one of the other Fauns responded to their commanding officer with, "[B-But Warmaster-General Redmane, sir! It's the Hoar Hatter.]"

"[What?]" The lionesque Faun squinted at me, then back at his subordinate. "[He doesn't even have a hat!]"

"[Yes, but…]"

"[Enough of this!]" He suddenly waved his mace over his head and then swung it vertically, stopping it so that he was pointing at me again. "[When you want something done, you have to do it yourself! I will put this idiotic ghost-story to the grave today, with my own two hands!]"

"[May I suggest that you beast-men of Inanna would just hearken to me for the span of fifty breaths of time, for the sake of tarnation!?]"

My request went in one ear and out the other, as he declared, "[I'm Warmaster-General Whorl Redmane! Tell me, interloper! Are you ready to test yourself against your better in the Rites of Dominance?]"

… Wow, I'm having déja vu, again. Those weren't supposed to happen so frequently.

Anyhow, seeing that he already worked himself up too much, I exhaled a shallow sigh, locked eyes with him, and pulled both Cal and Teeny out of storage.

"{Ah, young knight! Are we to battle already?}"

"{Report: Interface:Teeny, in optimal operating conditions.}"

I waited for them to finish, then I locked eyes with the lionish Faun and pointed Teeny at him.

"[Convey your fury upon me if you possess the audacity, you lumpy example of children's fuzzy hand puppets!]"

He clearly didn't know how to react to that, but by this point, the Rites of Dominance were established. He seemed startled for a moment, as if he didn't expect that it would actually work, but then he sent out four spectres at once. I matched him right away, but before our phantom versions could properly engage, he let out a strained grunt and took a step towards me. That was odd. Fauns were usually rooted in place at times like this. I should know; at one point I used to train using Dominance with them on and almost daily basis.

The so-called Warmaster-General's steps were slow and deliberate, as if he was under five times Earth's gravity and he had to exert great effort for every movement. It was almost comical, and the way he kept glaring at me, unblinking, almost made it look like some kind of weird power play.

Meanwhile, I was paying little attention to my spectres, though to be fair, by this point I was in a different weight category even without the ability to Phase. If anything, I realised that this might've been a useful opportunity to make sure I didn't get rusty and that my mana-burns from before wouldn't prove to be a handicap, but the way he kept approaching me made me unable to focus on anything else.

At last, he was just about to get into mace range, and while I wasn't worried about getting hit by some kind of out-of-Dominance not-at-all-sneaky-attack, Ollie was still behind me and gawking at the unfolding situation with equal amounts of curiosity and apprehension. I didn't want him to get accidentally caught up in this, so with a twitch of my fist, I shifted Teeny into spear-mode. The sudden extra reach I got made the Faun come to a stumbling halt, only to then reel back when I took a step, and Teeny's point stopped right in front of his face.

He let out a grunt that could've been either a sign of surprise or some kind of exotic Faunish swear-word I was unfamiliar with, and then he immediately tried to swing his mace at my weapon. However, when he raised it over his head, I sent out two more Dominance spectres, and the sudden added mental load made his movements falter. At the very same moment, I lightly twisted my wrist into a brandish, which then ended with the flat of the spearhead hitting him right on top of his head, causing him to...

"Hukk!"

… hiccup? Sure, why not?

"Do you yield?" I asked, this time not even bothering with the Faunish.

He glared at me in return, so I added two more phantom copies, followed by another flourish and hit on top of his head, making him reel back again. I followed after him, maintaining the distance of the spear tip from his nose.

"Do you yield?" I asked again, with a bit more emphasis, and when he didn't respond, I repeated the same process a third time.

By this point, we had twelve immaterial copies only visible to us duking it out around the cave entrance. 'Had' being the operating word, as it was clearly a number beyond his limit, as my phantoms kept cutting down his ghostly echoes one by one, and when he tried to produce new ones, their starting position would mirror our real bodies. Meaning, with my spear pointed right at his face. There wasn't much space for a contest there.

Feeling his imminent defeat, the General made one last desperate gambit, brandishing his mace with a roar… so I did another flourish and hit him extra-hard on the head, this time with the butt end of the spear shaft. His defiant cry came to an abrupt halt, and then his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed right where he stood, with a trickle of blood on the corner of his mouth. Did he bite his tongue?

It didn't really matter. I had more important things to do, such as theatrically twirling Teeny overhead, planting the butt end with a loud thud, and then bellowing out, "[Beastment of the House of Inanna! Are. You. Hearkening. Me. Now!?]"

There was a bit of a quiet spell while everyone waited for the downed Faun's mace to stop rolling, but then one of the goat-ish phenotypes stepped forth and responded with a supremely awkward, "[Y-Yes, we're listening, Lord Hoar Hatter.]"

Was he trembling? Dammit, I really did traumatise these guys. Note to self: once this whole thing is over, send the Fauns stationed here some apology gift baskets. More important though…

"[Eject a fleet of foot to the ancient bastions of the…]" I began, but cut myself short and took a deep breath. "Okay, let's try this again." I pointed at the Faun at the front. "You."

"[Yes?]"

"Take him to the infirmary, or whatever equivalent you have." Before he could respond, I pointed at another guard. "You. Send a messenger to the castle. Tell whoever's in charge that Archon Leonard Polemos-Dunning is going to pay them an official visit in an hour. Also, tell them that our future relationship is going to be entirely based on the reception, so think things through very carefully." I paused just long enough to turn Teeny back into the short sword form and make a sweeping gesture. "The rest of you, get back to work. Chop-chop."

Whether it was the power of Refuge in Audacity, my reputation, or just the fact that I beat their superior in Dominance in front of their eyes, but the previously skittish Faun guards immediately jumped at the opportunity to make themselves useful and started following my orders to the letter. It was a nice change of pace. The night was still young, and the fewer things I had to micro-manage myself, the better.

"{I'm feeling deeply disappointed, my young knight. This battle was rather…}"

Cal's complaints shook me out of it, and I was just about to roll my eyes at him when Ollie tugged on my sleeve, pulling my attention in the other direction.

"That was so cool!"

"{Was it?}"/"Really?"

Cal's response overlapped mine, though he obviously could only hear one of us, and it wasn't the grouchy sword.

"Yes! It was like, swish! And bang!" He waved his hands around, as if holding invisible weapons. "And then a boooom! Uncle Polemos was so awesome!"

Receiving such honest, innocent adoration was… refreshingly nice. Also…

"You were saying?"

My question was obviously aimed at Cal, and after a long beat, they told me, "{I'm too old to be arguing with a child.}"

"{Observation: Interface:Teeny posits that the saying, 'With age comes wisdom', might not be entirely baseless.}"

"{Well, obviously.}"

"{Conjecture: If true, then it means Interface:Teeny is, by defintinion, wiser than Interface:Caly.}"

"{… I knew there would a spin like this. Listen, Teeny…}"

I tuned out my weapons' usual banter and gestured for Ollie to follow after me.

"Come, Beansprout. Let's pay an official visit to a local a granny."

"A grandma?" He scurried after me, eyes full of curiosity. "Is she nice?"

"That's what we have to find out…"

And with that, the two of us began our leisurely stroll towards Castle Inanna, giving its inhabitants plenty of time to figure out whether they wanted to be nice or not.