Chapter Three: Meetings of Consequence
Contrary to popular belief, Geno thought gravely, the Star Haven was not always a Paradise.
A bioluminescent plane lit by the otherworldly powers of the Star gods traveled through a limitless space, slicing hastily past millions and even billions of bright-twinkling stars cratered and shaped by the Elder Deities, now passed on to the final dimension of existence. The Convocation Platform glowed with the fierce power of Culex’s crystal hide, but was amplified greatly by a divine prowess. Slender, narrowly-fluted Ionic columns, complemented by the neighboring of baseless Dorian pedestals, were spaced evenly apart, reaching up and crackling resistance where the phasing shield met an eternal crossing over. Projected stars drained by rippling picture oscillations twisted up the poles, surfing on an eerie purple light.
“Star Warrior Geno, welcome to the highest resting place of the most holy Star Spirits. Sanctuary!” boomed the aged, yet potent voice of Eldstar, the prime spirit of the Council. He floated complacently one meter above the drifting plane, bobbing up and down lazily, his mustache furling under the presence of a calming breeze.
All around him, the other six Star Spirits of the Star Council called out, “Sanctuary!” and all fell quiet for the time being. Heavily-cloaked Shaman donning robes that sparkled iridescent patches against blue and purple fabric floated out on silent steps, striding to place amethyst bowls of cleansing waters before the Spirits. One other entered as his brethren exited into nothingness, laying a silver cup of the same liquid at Geno’s feet, to bow and then scurry off into the outer realm.
The floating blue mist that was Geno materialized before their eyes and adapted its corporal form, a powerful doll of ancient fable. Bowing reverently, almost to the ground, Geno piously guided the quaff of water to his wooden mouth and imbibed it fully, feeling lighter as it spread quickly throughout his physical body and then the more distant soul. “May I forever drink deeply of the Haven’s bounty, and be blessed by it and all others forever and ever, amen.”
“And so now that you say this, may it be done,” Eldstar said promptly as the rest of the Council then followed suit in a slightly lower tone. Geno shielded his eyes and took three steps back, craning his neck to watch as a shower of golden sparks erupted high above him, splashing to the ground in a flurry of fire. Formed from the fragments of divine fury, a faceless star made purely of a heavenly energy wafted slowly down, coming to rest where he’d stood only seconds before. “Touch this, and we shall be one,” the elder star said, but before he could respond, Geno’s body was being forcibly pulled towards the sacred emblem. Without fear, without doubt, he reached out to touch it… and they were one.
“See how it embraces him,” Klevar said thoughtfully, causing Misstar to close her eyes and twirl her flaxen ribbon in a vivacious pride. Skolar nodded in solemn agreement, mentally straightening his glasses and twitching his thick-curling eyebrows. Muskular only grinned a sailor’s smile, winking affirmation. On the far left, Mamar cradled herself gently in the air, staring down and beaming her motherly care. Kalmar deigned not to speak a word or make a motion, choosing instead to simply look on placidly. Only Eldstar spoke, but when he did so, it was by the mind and not such crude implementations of communication as gestures or any of the eclectic forms of vocalization available to all the many tongues of Plitian life.
“You are indeed the greatest of the Star Warriors and have proven yourself countless times, in this generation and in all of those that fall before it. You are also the first of such a class to attain the Melding of Souls with the Council. And now,” he said sternly, a hint of wizened irritation beginning to creep into his voice, “on the eve of your induction to the Star Council, you choose instead to break the Sacred Laws the Elder Deities set by keeping an earthly name, traveling against our will to Plit, and soliciting inappropriate advice to a mortal about his future. How do you plead to these disgraceful atrocities?”
Geno sighed and drooped his frayed green tunic, bowing in sorrow. “With the utmost repentance, Masters, but without the necessary will to correct my transgressions.” Geno lifted his head to bravely hold the gaze of the shocked Council, failing miserably. “A Great Evil has descended upon our planet, long hidden by the thorns and rotting vines that conceal such things. Gathered a force, it has, and with that power it now comes to New Koopa Castle with the sole intention of forming an alliance with King Bowser of the Koopa Kingdom. I fear its aims are far greater than the conquering of the Mushroom Kingdom, though.” Geno trembled, holding out a shivering hand to deliver a pulsing Seeing Stone. With a low, rhythmic hum, it floated gently out of his left hand and was suspended loosely in midair. The Star Warrior on trial fell softly to his knees, caressing the orb and scrunching back as it fizzled to life. Played about its spherical face was the visage of a young man with unkempt black hair that twisted carelessly atop his scalp. The Star Council reeled in an infernal disgust. “This is the man called Raul whom walks among us. He speaks the Ancient Language of the Stars at will and is consumed by such unfathomable iniquity that even I have failed to penetrate his thoughts. Against such evil, the forces of Plit cannot stand. Without our swift and targeted aid, I fear the planet will fall into a Second Darkness.”
“If the kid’s telling the truth, then we can just give Mario and all of his pals a supercharge; nudged in the right direction, I’m sure they’ll be able to handle it,” Muskular said brusquely, turning to face Eldstar. The others looked down and then shifted their gaze back up to forward Geno.
“You must have interminable audacity to threaten and rile up the Council so,” Eldstar said in a gravelly voice. “We shall need much time to consider your warnings. I am afraid that any brevity in deciding on such a serious matter is out of the question.”
“Then allow me to go and see what can be done while the Council deliberates,” Geno piped, exerting an unspeakable effort to quell the rising squeak in his voice. “I beg it of you.” He lowered his forehead to the ground and felt his pate’s organic warmth adhere to a gelid loveliness. It gave back a slumberous push of peace and made him weary with a creeping tiredness.
“The Council’s decision stands,” Eldstar said with an air of finality, emitting a deep gong of washing sound waves that crashed and flickered against the surrounding walls. A vertical rectangle growing approximately three meters from the plane’s surface outlined bright white light near the back of the Convocation Chamber, searing in to reveal an obvious egress passageway. “We would have you leave at this time.”
Geno suddenly felt more courageous than he had ever been before. How could Eldstar retreat to his ineffective meditations in the face of such peril? Couldn’t they sense the danger that to him was so blatantly clear? “And if I were to refuse your command?” he asked flatly, bunching up his jagged cloak and crossing his arms implacably. “I must be allowed to cross over into their world as I have done once before. I admit to the fault of my taking the non-secular leave, but now I am asking you straightly.”
“Straightly or not, Star Warrior, your reasoning is crooked. The Council does not tolerate appeals: our word is always final. Now, if you somehow redeem yourself and take a position among us, then discussions are warranted, but presently, you are ordered to leave,” Eldstar said firmly, floating back on gathering hum. Geno felt air under his limbs, and suddenly he was being pushed back by invisible hands. “Drift well, Geno.”
“No!” he shouted and struggled uselessly against the Council’s restraint. His corporal form began to sift like sand into the reaching bond. “I must be allowed to cross over!” Something gripped his soul, and whether regrets would follow or not, Geno acted upon the urge… instinctively. The Star Haven spirits were not supposed to be bound by such crude terms.
“Stop!” A beam of shearing matter shot out from his hand, pushing the speed of light and striking the apex of the Council’s ascension. Already, a darkness behind them had swelled into a bulge of shadows, eating at the Convocation Chamber like termites. The tenebrous glow caught the light in the Star Spirits’ eyes, and they all fell into a heartless shade of shimmering black. “You are expelled,” Eldstar said emotionlessly, but it was not his voice, not his tone. All around the plane, red eyes like demons began to sprout, chocking the sanctity as weeds to flowers.
Geno sank deeper and deeper into the void until there was nothing left, save the sound of his own screaming and the grating cackle of the Shadow’s malcontent.
~*~*~*~
Geno arrived at Master Jinx’s esteemed dojo around the fifth stroke of the hour according to the haunting drone of the Sensei’s clock fixture. If memories were played correctly, it was the fifteenth of August, Earth time of course, and the inevitable changes of an early Autumn were already beginning to settle in for a breezy stay. The chills and aging leaves whistled and rustled against the doorway, the latter skittering on the patio like wood scraping against pavement. Heralded by the creaky groan of a dry-rotted doorway and the rusty whine of hinges in need of a good oiling, Geno stormed into the room, a blustery gust curling up under his blue-green cloak.
“Sensei,” the living, breathing doll managed, straining for that last breath. Odd, Jinx thought. When did Geno ever need to breathe? “Terrible… beyond horror! We’re doomed if we don’t… the Mario Brothers!”
Jinx finally allowed his eyes to open, to help calm Geno if for nothing else. He considered levitating, but instead only rose from his cross-legged position, abandoning his insightful meditation for the primary importance of the present. “Geno, my child, or should I say my Guardian, what ails you this day?” He strode forward patiently, reaching up a spherical hand to feel Geno’s hot breath against his pale skin. “What has happened?”
Geno eventually made the painful transition to steady inhaling and exhaling, pressing a wooden hand hard against his chest as if to stabilize something internal. His eyes were clouded, still lifeless like a doll’s, but definitely with some trace of spirit. “Jinx, I’ve been expelled from Star Haven.”
Jinx suddenly no longer felt like standing up. Head and heart heavy with a confused garble of unreal considerations, he placed one guiding arm behind him, feeling for a seat. Still shocked, but no longer to the point of inarticulacy, he spoke, choosing his words carefully. The winded look on Geno’s face. The fact that he was struggling for breath at all. The hazy cloudiness in his eyes… all the signs were there.
But what did they mean?
“How can a Guardian Spirit be cast from Star Haven? Even if that is possible, wouldn’t you have simply been sent to the Inferno?” Jinx stilled his voice and placed a hand quickly to cover his mouth and shook his head regrettably. “I should not speak of such things to you in your condition.”
Geno sighed heavily and sat across from the diminutive monster, trying with noticeable difficulty to emulate Jinx’s posture. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, and believe it or not, even I’m sort of confused as to what happened. It started normally enough: I was summoned before the Council of Star Spirits, as I have been so many times before. I was accused of assisting a mortal, Mallow I believe, in the divining of his near future. Apparently, if I remember Eldstar’s words correctly, I was to become a member of the Star Council. My promotion was thwarted by my crimes, though, and so I explained myself. I told them of the Man Who Shall Speak The Language Of The Stars, the one called Raul whom still walks among us. They listened to my pleas, that they should help in my quest to destroy this monster. After they made suggestions and conversation amongst themselves, I was sentenced to probation, ordered to stay behind while they deliberated further. I struggled, or I think I remember resisting, and suddenly a bruise of a shadow billowed and plumed from beyond the Eternal Heaven, seeping under the shield and contaminating the Convocation Plane. The glow in Eldstar’s eyes, nay, in all of their eyes! It was that same evil, the evil of the Shadow, of the man named Raul whom—”
“—I know, I know, whom walks among us,” Jinx said, his voice tinged with an irregular frustration. “I know this may seem discouraging, but you must realize you talk with the assumption that I know the workings of Star Haven, and even though I consider myself a well-studied being, I have not the knowledge that you possess on these matters.” There was a pause of mental back-tracking, and then, “So, were they right in accusing you of assisting this mortal, Mallow?”
“Of course not!” Geno sputtered, falling hastily back on the defensive. “I wouldn’t be so brave as to tempt the Elders’ Laws this close to my Induction. It’s madness!”
“If you say it is true, then I have no choice but to believe you. Come, though, enough of this talk for now. It’s obvious that you have been altered, or, dare I say it, returned to the form of a mortal, and you will need something to drink, something hot to warm you up.”
Jinx retrieved a tray holding two tea cups and an intricately painted pitcher. He dispensed the blistering drink slowly, seeming to take an otherworldly appreciation in the winding trail of the steam plumes. Geno took the proffered cup thankfully and drank two meticulous sips. Jinx watched in amazed wonderment as the liquid seeped through the hollow wood of his cheeks, spilling onto the floor. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Geno apologized promptly, stretching to soak the stain with one wooden palm.
“No, no, it is quite alright, lad. You need not worry,” Jinx chided and then stood up, his cutting green head ornament still not making up for their difference in height. “Tell me, if you cannot obtain energy, then are you a living organism? It’s one of the telltale signs you know, and for you not to have just one of them is rather ponderous.”
“I really don’t know, but I wish I did, really I do. This is all very troubling, yet we ought to be concentrating on the possibility that the Council has been superceded by some unknown entity, most likely of malicious intent.” Geno looked past Jinx, his eyes resting on the half-open doorway. He could feel the cold, could sense it stealing his breathe… but what were all the mixed signals about? “I had to find help, so I came here.” Geno turned his head again to stare Jinx down straightly, his confidence all-together shaking. “So, will you come with me?”
“Yes,” Jinx said, rising again to equip his saber and katana. “Yes, I will.”
~*~*~*~
The room Bowser had provided them was the sort of less-than-savory establishment that Raul hoped to one day wipe from the face of the planet. He and his loyal follower were more than willing to sacrifice personal distastes for the good of the greater goal, however, and any discomforts were soon displaced by urgent concerns that needed an immediate answering. “Master, I do not trust this King of the Koopas. His motives are as hidden as ours and not for the same reason.”
Ian the man’s name had been, and still was in the private confines of their formidable little group. He was older than Raul by little more than a decade, his hair already showing the faintest traces of a sickly gray. Ian’s skin was covered with burned patches, scars that would never heal. He was oftentimes jokingly referred to as Scar by some of the lesser members of Raul’s band, yet, because he found “Ian” to be more respectful, his Master and closest friends addressed him as such.
“Yes, his ulterior motives were not well concealed, that is for sure,” Raul said thoughtfully, unhooking the neck of cloak and throwing it over a clothes rack. He stood in black again, his shadowy tunic just as frightening. “Still, we cannot allow our reservations to stand in the way of this tenuous alliance just yet. After I’m able to properly manipulate the King’s trust tomorrow afternoon, we shan’t have to stay so close to his treacherous embrace any longer. Shortly thereafter, the Mushroom Village will have been evacuated, and the few who choose to be recalcitrant will be executed or enslaved. I am sure the Mushroomers’ inn will be infinitely more cozy than this swine pen.”
“You are sure then that our help will lend enough power for Bowser to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom?” Ian discarded his own cloak, standing in a contrasting fiery red tunic that blared against the black of Raul’s. “Shouldn’t we wait until the Unification as a precautionary measure against any possible retribution?”
Raul snorted lightly, contemptuously, flicking the worry away with a short wave of his hand. “All elements of my plan have been thought out thoroughly in anticipation of such flaws. I’ve carefully studied the unity between the Rose Town militant forces and those of the Mushroom Village, finding that, frankly, it doesn’t really exist. Their reaction time will be deathly slow, almost to the point of being relatively stationary. We shall have plenty of time to carry out the task of consolidation. Have faith when I say that they will be crushed.”
“I always have faith in you, Master, but the inkling of failure persists so humanly in the back of my mind. I wish to be like you now more than ever, to push away remorse and regret, to know that the final outcome will work in our favor. You have trained us all so well; our victory is surely inevitable.”
Ian didn’t believe Raul when he was told just how good a warrior he’d shaped up to be. The man was virtually undefeatable in hand-to-hand combat, even if lacking the swiftness that had earned Cele her position. “That, then, is all that you should be required to remember. Continue to keep your faith well, and you will not fail me.”
“Yes, my Master,” Ian said slowly, bowing briskly and rising only to sit placidly in a far corner. His head bent forward slightly, and with a drooping of his shoulders, he fell quickly to slumber.
Melting wax blazoned with crisped embers supported a dying wisp of fire on the room’s nightstand. Raul thought back briefly to Cele and grew jealous of the fun she must be having in her relentless chase with the Magikoopa. He could almost hear the final shriek of terror as her saber closed in for the kill…
“Master, Barth has abandoned the group to follow Cele.”
Raul turned; Ian snapped awake. It was Kyle, one of the senior members and the most dexterous of the archers. His breath was quickened and uneven; the news of Barth’s unwarranted disobedience had seemed too important to him to wait. “Make fast, and prepare yourself two of the men to retrieve him. I won’t let his punishment be so bearable this time.”
“Yes, my Master.” He was gone in a flash, hazy black disappearing as a mirage.
And then, like the spark of one’s life being cut suddenly short, the candle’s dancing flame winked out.
~*~*~*~
“Peculiar,” Luigi finally said, overcoming the active trepidation that had been eating both he and his brother up from the insides out ever since they’d spotted the misplaced light slanting out of their sitting room’s rectangular windows. The sloppily decorated room was unchanged, appearing, to the uncritical eye, exactly as they had left it four hours before. A greasy pizza box still full of inedible crumbs shriveled pitifully on an unbalanced coffee table, and parts of the Pipe House’s green-striped wallpaper were peeling off. The room beyond was unlit, but Luigi surmised that Mario’s chest of drawers was still partly open, showing his predominantly red and blue wardrobe, no doubt.
“Very peculiar,” Mario seconded an agreement, stepping past Luigi to rummage through pizza crumbs. He shoveled them into his mouth, smacking horribly and stretching to give an exaggerated yawn. “I can’t believe I didn’t eat these earlier.”
Luigi rolled his eyes and plopped onto the couch, kicking off his shoes by the feet and resting them gently beside the adjacent pizza box, allowing himself a more tame yawn. It wasn’t entirely impossible that one of them had accidentally left the lights on and then just forgot about them. It also wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before, albeit rarely. But then there was the persistent mental assurance Luigi had that he specifically remembered flicking the light switch down on the way out. “Maybe you ought to go check the bedroom, Mario. See if anything was stolen.”
“Yeah, in a minute.” Mario pushed up under his hat and scratched his head, sinking into the couch and dozing off. His mustache furled under a heavy sigh. “I’m more worried about those red eyes we saw back there. Reminded me of the Forever Forest, it was so spooky.”
Irritated beyond measure, Luigi shot up and wiggled back into his shoes; he threw his arms out to the side and groaned. “Aren’t you in the least bit concerned that the two events might be connected?” When Mario simply shrugged, Luigi straightened his hat, grimaced, and trotted off into the other room.
The call came close to a minute later. “Mario!”
At the sound of his name, Mario turned his head around and hopped up, calling back, “Luigi? What’s going on in there?”
“Get in here! I’ve caught something.”
Mario rushed in, gallantly as usual, and came to a skidding halt that smashed him into a jutting drawer. Effectively clotheslined, the plumber fell head-over-heels, crashing onto the floor with a stentorious thud. Pressed for time, Mario dashed up and slammed the light switch on, whirling around under a new state of clarity to see Luigi struggling with a gangly, ugly little creature. His eyes were still slightly blurred from the disorientation of his spin, but he could discern with reasonable certainty that it was some sort of reptilian mutant, looking more like a lizard than a Koopa, but of about the same height. It wore brown, roughened pants and a tattered shirt of the same color. Screeching in a high, tearing voice that rang his ears, the creature sputtered, “Thiz one cannot breathe! Release me!”
“And tell me exactly why I should do that,” Luigi said. “We come home after a particularly grueling walk, and now we find out that a little thief has broken into our house. Now, if you were in our position, how would you feel about that?”
“Foolz! You don’t understand,” the creature said resolutely, using his massive, sinewy tail to thrust against the floor and almost throw Luigi. The valiant, yet ineffective, effort was ignored. “Thiz one only comes to ask and receive your help.”
“Why would you expect me to believe something like that? When we walked in, you didn’t even come out to greet us. And what kind of amicable visitor just ambles into to a vacant house anyway? Your story doesn’t make a shred of sense.”
“Thiz one thought you might be one of them. I could not risk the chance or chance the risk or however you say it properly. My tongue quivers in loathing,” he said acrimoniously. Luigi screwed up his face disagreeably as the lizard’s mouth pulled back, revealing his fiercely undulating, red-forked tongue.
“One of who? Stop hissing at me, curse it all! I can’t bear to witness you slobbering that acidic crud all over my carpet.”
Mario broke the fight up with an annoying chuckle. “Look at you two: fighting like children. Come on, Luigi, lay off. Let’s hear what he has to say.”
“No way, brother. First let’s hear his name. If he truly wants our help, he’ll be sure to tell us that,” Luigi trailed off and started at the creature below him, who’d long since given up writhing.
“Thiz one’s name is Razan,” he said, and drooped in submission. “You may call me thiz if it so pleases you.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Luigi sighed and stood up, signaling for Mario to straddle the lizard in case he decided to chance an escape. “Tell me, where do you hail from?”
Before Razan could even form the first syllabic measure of his reply, three feathered arrows found their mark and silenced the trio of unlikely house guests.
Chapter Four: Chasing Shadows
In between scudding clouds, paint spots of vibrant blue could be seen throwing a colored form of gray down below to bathe the forest tops. Fitful wind blew through long reaches of broad-bladed grass arms that waved and shivered in the cool morning breeze. Summer-sunned birches and weather-aged pines stood stolidly in the face of the receding rains, glaring up to the heavens as they dried off in a state of lazy contentment. Blue-breasted birds with tall feathery hats bobbed their heads with an engineer’s acuteness, hopping on two wiry feet down the twisting branches of full-bloomed bushes. The wonder was lost on Kamek, though, as he saw everything to be a rich-toned blur, flying past him at an untold speed too quick for the mortal eye.
Both sleeved scale arms were thrown straight behind him like retracted wings, moving up and down every so often under the strong updrafts and downward pushes of the whistling wind. His back was pointed diagonally forward, bent at the waist, straight at all other points. Two eyes glared hazily with an otherworldly concentration ahead of him, piercing both bark and leaf to view the fog-plagued skyline of the Mushroom Village. Stitched ends of his draping robes were pinned up just above his ankles by invisible clamps suited to work through the dark powers of Doomstar. Legs pumped quickly back and forth in a reaching, rhythmic stride that never lost beat or grew weary from the rocky ground and imposing roots that ran haphazardly along the Mushroom Forest’s shadowed bed.
He was running at a breathless speed now without even a thought directed towards the possibility of resting. After discovering he was being followed by a female human whose physical fitness was far superior to his own, several distinct realizations became depressingly clear to Kamek. He knew that whomever the adherent worm behind him was, she was not from around the Mushroom Kingdom or any of the Koopa Lands he’d ever visited. In fact, the only notable humans with two X chromosomes on Plit were Princess Toadstool of the Mushroom Kingdom and Princess Daisy of Sarasaland. If someone with her kind of power was visiting the Koopa Castle, then it was definitely likely that more of her kind had come along for the trip and possibly with the intention of laying siege to the hardly impregnable fortress he’d left behind. What was all the more frightening, he could feel the woman’s mind touch his and execute an ineffective command for Kamek to stop so she could slaughter him. Obviously the preliminary stratagem was meant to avoid such taxing chases with the weak-minded. Kamek, however, was not weak-minded, and his continued haste was proof enough. Only a foolish refugee would stop simply for the pleasure of a new challenge, especially when hordes of powerful warriors were probably waiting to take up the reins of a failed hunt.
Kamek winced away an impeding sense of worry and called on Doomstar. With a replenishing wave of dark magic, his muscles were strengthened past their original capacity for work, and the heat of hard labor left his face and the rest of his scales almost immediately. The wash of thermal stabilization only encouraged his celerity ten fold, and for a moment, he thought he heard the crackling clap of a sonic boom. Such an occurrence would not have been entirely improbable, as the fifty-something year old Magikoopa was now outpacing the wind.
Tiny, almost unreadable energy spasms blossomed all around him, indicating the vast range of night life the cheerless forest had to offer. A newborn fruit fly pushed its way out of a dewed egg sac right before being devoured by a tree frog clinging surreptitiously to a nearby piece of bark. A sharp-eyed hawk ruffled its feathers and screeched victoriously before swooping off and down from its perch to snatch a squeaking rodent far below. Moist leaves scratched plant fibers as the icy wind pervaded their quiet sanctuary. Broken tree limbs fell from precarious dangling spots high up in the canopy before Kamek’s hurried boots crunched them underfoot. He was aware of all the subtle intricacies of every organic substance around him, living and breathing, rotting and decaying, spreading and seeding, hurting and dying… plotting and thinking. The dark blotch of sentience still rang clearly in his mind, somewhere behind him. She was closer now. Much closer.
There is no life, no warmth, no compassion in the void…
Kamek stopped suddenly and ran off again, momentarily shaken by one of the many adages of the ways of Doomstar. It was surely a trick; she knew he was a Magikoopa and was playing the fool’s amicitia, or more specifically, the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Only death, Kamek thought back, and that is what will await you if you try to stop me.
We shall see, heretic. All of your kind will be exterminated.
Kamek drew his reptilian beak up in a feral snarl and made a sound like one clearing his throat. Without missing a step, he let out a hideous skirling screech that shook the very foundations of the trees around him, sending dozing birds and loose nests tumbling to the ground. Behind him and out of his line of vision, a wide stretch of earth and plants uprooted as if pushed from below by some giant subterranean creature. Dirt clods and vine tangles shot off into the sky and hurled back down around the rapidly moving Koopa while the newly formed defensive perimeter extended off for several hundred meters to either side of the forest. The effort had forced him to exert copious amounts of energy, but with such an arresting obstacle covering his rear, Kamek could afford a minor reduction in his momentum.
“Slag!” he cursed, reeling from a short stitch of pain in his left thigh. Perhaps he had overestimated the ability for his body to adjust so speedily. He was getting older, and no amount of knowledge or experience could change age’s many devastating effects. Having a crazed human bent on his termination without negotiation didn’t make things any better. Kamek moved a hand carefully to his leg and shot a blast of refreshing magic through it; the effect was minimal, but it was better than nothing. At the moment, he definitely couldn’t chance an out-and-out fight.
And then, like a nightmare invading the peaceful lull of a dream, she was there, in front of him and staring back with glowing green eyes. Short strings of red-gold hair trailed out from the edges of her veiling cowl. Everything else was dark and vague, physically and spiritually. Somehow she’d managed to increase her own speed past the limits of his in such a weakened state and traverse the mighty blockade he’d constructed. When she spoke, it was with the hazy ghostliness of something not really there. “You gave me quite a chase, Magikoopa, but the hunt is over, and I have proved the victor. For your merit, I will make this short and painless. Consider yourself one of the honored.”
Help me Doomstar, Kamek thought and said smugly, “You seem all too confident for a puny human standing before the most powerful Koopa on Plit. Most in your position would be groveling for mercy.”
“Indeed,” she said gravely, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, Kamek thought she would strike, but, to his admitted confusion, she only crossed her arms. “You would be Kamek then, the most skilled of the Magikoopas. We’ve heard much of your trials, and we were impressed, to say the most. Still, I have my orders, and I shall not deviate from them.”
“We?” Kamek felt his lower lip twitch with disgust, more than a little bit curious. His suspicions were proven: there were more of them. “You are not alone then,” he observed bluntly without implying a question.
“Of course not,” she responded heatedly, her emerald eyes dimming into darkness with each passing moment. Little did she know, Kamek was shielding his own strength, stalling for time while he performed an intensive healing spell on himself. “My master, our people, and I have come from far away for a single purpose, for one solitary goal, and you are only one of many heretics that must be exterminated,” she said matter-of-factly, using the same cold, emotionless tone that she’d paired with the word before.
“Are you referring to the Magikoopas only or something more?” Kamek asked, sensing his body being cured a little more after the passing of each second. He would only have to keep up a conversation with the lunatic for a few moments more. “If you think eliminating us will solve your problem of resistance, then you have made a critical error in your study of these lands. The people of the Mushroom Kingdom are not cravens, and they will fight not fearing the possibility of death if their survival is threatened. By the sheer force of numbers, you will ultimately lose.”
“That might be true,” she conceded, but then quickly amended, “after a fashion. But you are undoubtedly naïve to our ways. To point out any faults in our ultimate goal, you must first understand it completely and, perhaps, embrace it.” She paused for a moment, seeming to bask in whatever comfort her philosophical explanation gave. “But you will never serve as an acolyte, for you are too set in the ways of a heretic. As I’ve said, you must be exterminated.” She reached deep into the folds of her black robes and pulled out a long saber glinting pale oranges and traces of gray under the morning sun. “Prepare yourself for the Inferno, infidel!”
The time had come to make a move. Kamek grimaced when he realized his body hadn’t been able to completely remedy itself of the wear and tear he’d suffered the night before, but he was still well enough to put his trump card into play. Gathering the eddies and flows of Doomstar’s powers around him, he started to glow a steady, pulsing purple. “I will,” he said, throwing her a coy glance before turning to ascend, “when it is my time.” And with a flash of pseudo luminescence, he was gone, leaving only a shower of falling sapphire sparks in his wake.
“Coward,” Cele said and snorted derisively. A quick scanning sniff of the air told her he’d teleported much farther away from the clearing than a nearby tree. Sheathing her sword, she collected her cloak tight around her and sprinted off towards the Mushroom Village, somehow knowing he’d be there. She was in tune with all around her, much like Kamek, but in a completely different sense. Cele was one with Plit and it one with her; the fools had been wrong for a millennia, and finally Raul would show them the one absolute truth. Crashing through limbs, tumbling through weeds, and trampling fallen twigs, she surged towards her prey, hunting the moment.
~*~*~*~
He stood there in the distance, his black silhouette outlined against swirling ash-gray clouds sailing back and forth against a misty dark blue sky. The shadow stared at her with glowing crimson eyes that flashed and commanded presence. She stared back at him with faltering blue orbs, paling yet still unflinching despite all that was happening.
A vast alien world played out far below the unsound cliff her feet were trembling on, stretching out above the horizon and lowering again like the tide of the Vista Sea. She knew it was there, somehow, and knew that it was big by the force of the world’s gravitational pull. Risking a glimpse at the ambiguous landscape for only a second would be unwise – for only a second could cause her to lose her precious purchase on the crumbling plateau’s edge. She would not retreat, would not show the glaring specter that he held power over her, but she found herself unable to advance as well. It was a chess game’s stalemate, and he had all of her pieces…
“What do you want from me?” she screamed back at his face, trying in vain to stop hot tears from rolling down her cheeks. “Leave me alone!”
“I want nothing from you, Princess,” he said, complexion immutable and without a trace of emotion or pity. “I only come to bring you the news of your death; you and all your people must be exterminated, expelled from the planet you have molested.”
Peach searched his feelings, her eyes flying wide open when she only found a barrier pushing her back. He could sense her intrusive prodding and, like she was a fly, had quashed her diagnostic magic. “I don’t understand you,” she said, letting out a sharp yelp of surprise as the heel of her left foot slipped and pushed a small avalanche of pebbles tumbling off of the cliff. “We have only kept Bowser and his fiends at bay from doing to the rest of Plit what his father did to the Dark Lands. We care for this planet and obey the will of the Star Spirits—”
“Gah!” he exclaimed, stilling her vocal chords with a flat wave of his hands. He leaned forward, and the shadow’s gaze pierced her soul and mind, filling her full of his hatred. It was smothering, black and twisted, distorted beyond conception, and enveloping… tearing, stabbing, gnashing… an eternal, starless night. She gasped on the thick, choking substance, feeling its icy ooze seeping into her body and filling her lungs until her vision’s edge blackened, and her sight was struck from existence. “You see it now,” the specter said, for the first time blinking. “You see how there is no other way.”
He snorted and released her from the symbiosis, washing the fringes of his cloak across his face. She fell, her knees cracking against the rocky ground, hands scraping and painting the dirt with blood. Retching, she could barely listen as he continued without an answer. “You are pathetic, wallowing in your waste and transgressions against this world. Stand up and face your destiny with honor.”
Princess Toadstool rose slowly on one leg, whimpering and wincing, one hand squeezing a deep scratch just above her other elbow. The eyes kept up their uncaring watch, soaking up the sight of her pain and her closing death. “I will not go quietly into your nightmare. You’ll have to murder me, and then you will be the one that has stained this world!” she screamed with as much strength as she could muster, wanting to add “wherever this is.”
“It is simply a sign of things that have not yet passed,” he said, answering her thoughts. He then backtracked to her previous accusation, as expected. “Your death will serve a higher purpose, one that is out of our hands,” he provided, and upon sensing her confusion, “You needn’t dwell on the matter.”
Before she could form even a single retort, she was flying, her body floating and spinning in midair, turning to face the steep drop-off that led into what now was only a river of darkness, a visual representation of the hatred that the shadow radiated. In that instant, Peach knew. She knew that he had been right. And with that final resignation, that final cleansing of her tainted essence, she fell…
“Princess!” She opened her eyes. “Princess, no!”
Peach’s eyes flew open as she wavered forward, her stomach churning and attempting to escape through her mouth. The low-lying alien world of before was replaced with the morning lit grasses and intricately clipped hedges of the Royal Castle’s magnificent Courtyard. Further on was the lavish tennis court where her best friends had played only hours before. She let out a frightened gasp; on either side of her was a shutter to the open window of her bedroom, and with a whirling pitch, she slipped—
—only to be caught by two very small hands clinging to the end of her dress. With a loud crash, Peach and her rescuer toppled over on each other and slammed into the velvety carpet of her cozy quarters, the floor wet with the night’s rain. “Princess!” came a muffled voice from underneath her. She quickly got up, looking around to help up her most trusted retainer, Toad. “Princess, you almost took a nasty fall. You’ve never sleepwalked before; come, let’s close this drafty window,” he said, his bland face furrowed with worry for her wellness. Standing up on the tips of his long shoes, he closed the two sides of the massive stained glass window only after expending a considerable amount of effort. “Now,” he said finally, straightening his vest and placing both hands on his sides, “are you ok?”
“I… I don’t know what happened, Toad.” She shivered and craned her neck to look out of the window at the rising sun far in the distance. “I had a nightmare, an awfully realistic one, almost like an omen.” Peach saw Toad looking back up helplessly; she knew there was nothing he could do about it. It was something she’d have to work out on her own. “I’m fine now, though, thanks to you.” She thought back to his exasperated call. “How did it play out?”
“The dream?” he asked, tilting his head in mild confusion and biting down softly on his lower lip, and then when he realized what she meant, “Oh, that!” He waddled around to face the open door that led into one of the Castle’s many ostentatious hallways and pointed at it. “Well, I saw your door open when I was making my last candlelight check before I went to bed, and as I neared your room, I heard you screaming like you were in a great deal of pain, so I came rushing down the hall,” he said, stepping to the doorway and peaking out, “and when I got here, I saw you climbing onto the window sill,” Toad explained, turning back around, this time pointing at the shut window. “And—”
Peach stopped listening after the first few words of the explanation. “The door was open?” Toad scrunched his face up in frustration at being interrupted but nodded nonetheless. “I didn’t leave the door open; I never do.” Toad’s mouth slacked, and his eyes dimmed a shade.
Despite all the fear and doubt coursing through her system, Peach maintained a regally casual stroll over to her chambers’ open entranceway. Extending an arm, she ran the tips of her fingers down the side of the door and then finally the outer doorknob. She pulled her hand back revealing sticky, half-dried mud clinging to her white elbow-length glove. “Princess!” Toad nervously piped, but Peach had already slapped her free hand over his mouth, bringing the other one’s forefinger up to her lips in a gesture commanding silence. As always, he complied without hesitation, but a look of disquietude had already washed over his face.
Peach slipped a hand covertly down to grasp the reassuring handle of a long, thin dagger she kept fastened to the inner folds of her stately gown. With a clandestine glance back to the doorway, she released Toad and stepped lightly to her walk-in closet’s sliding doors. Gathering what senses she had left about her, she flung open one side of the doors and plunged her weapon into the inky darkness, slicing through air, shredding through expensive fabric, and stopping short of anything past that. “Kamek!” she screamed and dropped the knife into his hands.
“Princess, do not be alarmed,” he said calmly, almost pleadingly, but Toad had already shouted a less-than-intimidating battle cry and was flying through the room to tackle Kamek in midair. The Magikoopa sighed distractedly and pushed up a hand, creating an invisible wall into which Toad slammed and fell motionless to the floor.
Peach felt the urge to slap Kamek across his scaly mug, save for the fact that she couldn’t win a fight against him even if she wasn’t forced to hear him out for diplomacy’s sake. “The blast only stunned him. He will awaken feeling slightly drowsy in approximately half an hour.” The Magikoopa paid one more passing glance to the comatose Mushroomer before speaking to Peach again. “I know you will be hard-pressed to believe this, but I have officially defected from the Koopa Kingdom, and I no longer give my allegiance to that fool it calls a king. Originally, I did not plan to come here, but certain unexpected elements of my escape have caused several problems of a much more serious note to arise, problems that I know you must hear of before it’s too late.”
Kamek was right about one thing. Peach didn’t let herself believe for a second that his so-called “defection” was genuine. Still, the convincing tone of his voice and, more importantly, his mention of something sinister forced her to take a less threatening manner of speech. “What new problems?” she asked, which was considerably better than, “Yeah, whatever you say, creep.”
“Apparently, shortly after I was leaving, the Castle received unwelcome visitors. Whether they were let in peacefully or by a more physical approach, such as a siege, I do not know; however, one of the intruders broke off from the main group with the orders to kill me, or in her words, exterminate me. She did finally catch up with me, but I was able to escape; for a human, the woman was exceptionally skilled.”
“Human?” the Princess asked doubtfully, and then added, “Woman? Kamek, there are precious few female humans on this planet, as you well know. Are you expecting me to believe that one suddenly pops up as part of a group of super powerful warriors trying to take your king’s castle?”
“Ex-king,” Kamek corrected sternly. “The humans, as I suspect them to be, are not here on such a trivial business as occupying a castle. Although she was vague and elusive on the subject, the female I encountered told me, in not so kindly a way, that we had to be exterminated. Any thoughts I extracted from her head were jumbled, usually consisting of cleansing this and purifying that. It was intriguing, but in my weakened state, I was forced to flee via teleportation. With only a precious few seconds to navigate my molecules, I ended up in your closet. Fate?” he asked dreamily, then continued. “I planned on exiting through your door and being done with this place, despite my original intentions, but I receded back to my former entry place once I saw this fellow,” he said, motioning to Toad, “coming up the hallway. Come to think of it,” he expanded, “you were standing up, as if in a dream.” He waved the comment away. “That is of no importance; if you wish to save your people, evacuation seems the only logical choice. Though it is entirely possible the human who hunted me was one of only a few with that much power, it would not be improbable that there are more, and with such immense darkness most likely converging on the capital, it would not be wise to linger.”
“Surely Mario and Luigi can—”
“Mario and Luigi will die if they take on the might of this new enemy,” Kamek cut her off with a low growl. “True, if one were to rally all the martial forces of the Mushroom Kingdom, the humans would be overtaken eventually, but that is not what I fear. I am afraid,” he said, pausing for emphasis that was not lost on Peach, “that they will find a way to assemble the scattered remnants of the Koopas and launch a major frontal campaign. I do not know, or even pretend to know, the full extent of their powers. Mind control is certainly not beyond me, and with such a large group of them, I… cannot guess the possible reach of their malicious influence. You must act quickly, and Mario and Luigi would do well to exercise prudence, in that they should join you and your people to the far west in a quest to gather the Kingdom’s armies.”
“You must take me for a fool,” she said expectantly, eyes raging with anger and perhaps just a small amount of sleepiness. “You know very well that to move the people of the mightiest city on this planet at the mere whim of one of its greatest enemy’s unrealistic claims is a task far beyond me or anyone for that matter.”
Kamek only stared back at her coldly, flickers of dusty morning sun beams scanning over his eyes every few seconds. “This was anticipated, of course, but to show my good faith, I had to at least warn you. The proof you seek will come in death and misery and will in turn be met with the ultimate devastation; this is what I portend. Take it as you will, but for me, I now must say my goodbyes or,” he started, casting a final glimpse of unconcern at the static Mushroomer before striding towards the room’s door… now closed, “I may not have the chance at a later date.”
“For one spinning webs of such doom and despair, I don’t see how you can be so indifferent,” she stated flatly, not expecting him to turn around. He didn’t. “Where are you planning to go anyway?”
“I do not yet know,” he said frankly. "Though I suspect I shall not return.”
And Peach let out a muffled scream, a rising shrill snapped in half.
A tall, dark, imposing figure fully filled the frame of the doorway. Dripping sweat and water from every pore in her covered skin, Cele stood hunched over, one free hand gnarled and close to the ground, the other holding tightly to her silver blade, stained with drying rusty-red splotches. Some of the thickening redness dripped off the point of the sword and made an uncomfortable tap on contact with the deeper velvet hue of the carpet. “You,” she said in a deep, strained voice, “will die now.”
“I know,” Kamek spoke resignedly, a heavy sigh creeping in and around his words. As the woman brought up her saber to deal a finishing blow, Peach’s mind exploded with thoughts, many thoughts, thoughts belonging not to her but to the old Magikoopa whom now faced his final hour. “Run,” he whispered, and suddenly Toad was scooped up in her tired arms, and with a push of invisible air, she was flailing, tumbling out of the open window…