CHAPTER 6
Ludwig’s room was, in the eyes of its owner, a multi-purpose facility designed to accommodate various business no matter the occasion. Each corner was designated a specific purpose that it would carry out until the end of time or whenever the Koopa Kingdom would succumb to a bloody revolution. Right behind the entrance was a dimly lit desk where blueprints, pencils, and protractors sat and highlighted the prince’s latest venture. On the floor several feet away finished inventions displayed themselves in their broken glory: cracked, erratically blinking, and wiggling like the legs of a dying spider. Only one of the devices was intact, and it was given its own corner and a protective sheet to keep the dust away. The museum that his failed inventions composed hid the trapdoor that led to the laboratory where Ludwig would often be found toiling away at whatever device he hoped to perfect. In case his lab was insufficiently supplied, his closet held an impressive array of chemicals, lab coats, and machine parts that could be taken and replaced on a regular basis. Once the fatigue of inventing settled in, he would set his work down and retire to bed, given its own corner in the back of the room. Its dark, blue covers and four pillows with mismatching covers provided an escape from the lavish peculiarities of the rest of his room.
Everything was where it was supposed to be. Everything but the dry bloodstain at the foot of his bed.
Ludwig had yet to see the bloodstain for it had popped into existence a mere two days ago. Nevertheless, it served a purpose much like everything around it. In its presence, the room descended into a dark, dreary mood that no invention could lift. The dull red sparkled in the dull light from the dull desk, reflecting ghastly figures dancing in harmony. Sometimes the stain would fluctuate, appearing to grow and shrink at whim. Its power radiated around it, and even the sleeping Ludwig could feel it throbbing in his chest.
His feet tried to run from the puddle, but tight gauze kept him firmly in place. He sweated and cried and bit his lips until blood flowed, but nothing could keep the stain from creeping up on him, gnawing on his body until he was nothing but bones.
“Is King Dad crazy?” a familiar voice echoed in Ludwig’s head.
“Crazy isn’t a nice word,” another voice responded, “he’s just…”
A piece of Ludwig’s mind snapped and his eyes flew open. His gaze pierced the stone ceiling and traveled for a thousand miles before it stopped short of the sun. He could see for miles, but all he saw was a blur.
But the blood was clear. From the angle he was positioned in, it was just out of view, but he could still see every inch of the red carpeting. He could still hear it oozing from the cuts on his body, dripping like the trickle of the sink, hypnotizing yet aggravating to the point of suicide.
He wanted to react, wanted to scream and slam his head against the stone until there was another bloodstain, but with paralyzed movement and the emotional depth of a statue, Ludwig continued to stare at the ceiling and everything above it. That was all that there was left to do: marvel at the dullness of the sun, the dullness of the blood, the dullness of his life.
The blood continued to gnaw at him with the intensity of a Chain Chomp. In an attempt to shut out the pain, Ludwig tuned his mind in on the event that had made him the Koopa he was that day. He could still hear the cries for help as explosions sent geysers of water catapulting into the air, raining down upon burning doomships and their frightened passengers. For most the sight would be scarring, but for Ludwig it was the best hideaway from the persistent stain…
He sees five doomships coasting through the Mushroom Sea just south of Roguetown. There used to be seven, but two of them are in the process of sinking. Less than a mile away, thirteen ships emblazoned with the Mushroom insignia move forward at a frightening pace, blasting Bullet Bills at their adversaries with each available opportunity. In the sky above, fighter planes wage battle in the clouds, crashing into one another and dropping missiles onto the boats below. It is afternoon, but from the red sea and midair explosions, it looks no different than dawn.
A young Koopa prince watches the chaos from the biggest of the five doomships, wrapped in extravagant armor impractical in use but impressive in worth. A silver cape with gold lining is wrapped around his shoulders. Gold gauntlets cover his claws and the several diamond rings adorning them. His green shell has been exchanged for a silver one with gold spike. As a finishing touch, a gold helmet covers his wild, blue hair, two devil spikes curving outward with a menacing golden sparkle. He tries to make up for the lavishness with a lance at his side, blade decorated in silver and gold banners, but it is too little, too late.
Standing at his side is the top general of the Koopa Army, a Koopatrol adorned in armor as black as night. Unlike his prince, his armor suggests practicality and is not afraid to show the damage it has endured. Dents, tears, and scars mark the perpetual darkness. His helmet is the only extravagant part of his attire, adorned in a mohawk arrangement of thin, lethal spikes that could prove useful if an enemy ambushes him from above. He too wields a lance, dry blood decorating its twin blades.
The two say nothing and instead observe the warfare as it continues to ravage their fleet. Behind them, Koopatrols scramble to and fro in a desperate bid to assemble all weaponry against the enemy. From their dialogue, it seems that the supply of Bullet Bills is running low.
Finally, the prince speaks to the general in a hushed tone. “We barely have enough ammo to last ten more minutes. The Mushroomers are stocked with enough Bullet Bills to last ‘til nightfall.”
The general nods in response, but says nothing else as a Bullet Bill makes contact with an adjacent ship. A small piece of debris in the ensuing explosion misses his face, pegging a finicky Koopatrol in the eye.
“Projectiles will do us no good in battle,” the prince presses onward. He turns towards the general with some difficulty, armor clunking noisily about, before he desperately adds, “Orgatio, we need a new strategy! Our troops are falling by the second!”
“It is not in my position to decide our course of action,” Orgatio says, wiping a thin strand of black hair from beneath his helmet. The prince responds with a dismayed look. “Nor is it in your position to weep in front of the men who rely on you for guidance. My liege specifically requested that decisions be made by you during this battle, and I do not intend to go against his word.”
“King Dad may want me to make the calls,” the prince says, “but I am still only a student. If we fail here, the whole fleet could get killed.” Orgatio remains nonchalant, but the prince feels otherwise and tries to drill it through his helmet. “And that includes us.”
Orgatio turns away and watches as an airplane spirals out of control towards the sea below. In its wake a descending stream of smoke oozes from the Bullet Bill lodged in its tail, the missile’s smile taunting the plane with approaching death. The pilot tries to avoid such a fate, but he only ends up sealing his doom with a leap from the cockpit. He falls into the water, and before he can even do so much as resurface, the remains of the plane crush him and pull his flailing body to the ocean floor.
“Under any other circumstance I would gladly take charge,” Orgatio says with his usual melancholy, “but my liege believes you to be better suited as general. He has firmly concluded that the only way we can triumph is if Prince Ludwig makes every command. The fire burning in his eyes when he gave that order was such that I cannot allow the slightest disobedience, lest both of us face his wrath.”
A deep, shrieking silence follows. The warfare around them seems to reach a standstill as both sides scramble to prepare their best troops and best weapons for the next, and what they hope to be final, barrage. A calm falls upon the battlefield in the same way the eye of a hurricane brings relief, but both sides are prepared. Both sides search for more ammo with an eye on the enemy, awaiting the shot to break the silence and restart the violence.
Prince Ludwig stares at Orgatio with cold, sullen eyes. The general tries to avoid emotional attachment, but staring at his prince and the pain in his face brings him to the verge of tears.
“Is King Dad crazy?” Ludwig’s voice barely says.
Orgatio doesn’t know what to say. He struggles for an answer, struggles to remain composed in front of his liege’s successor, but the detachment that he previously used to remain sane crumbles away. What’s left is a stuttering man sweating under his armor, knowing the truth but wishing not to speak of it.
“Crazy isn’t a nice word,” Orgatio replies, “he’s just…”
A Torpedo Ted slams into the side of the doomship, blowing a huge hole in the hull and throwing Orgatio over the edge.
“Orgatio!” Ludwig screams as his instructor grabs onto the handrail in the nick of time.
“Leave me be,” Orgatio says as he swats Ludwig’s hand. In their closeness Ludwig can see a newly made dent on the general’s helmet, fresh blood seeping from underneath his right eyebrow, and a severely bruised chin. What’s worse is the look of defeat on his face, eyes sullen and lips shaking.
In spite of the misery, he chivalrously continues, “The ship is sinking, half of your men are injured, and the enemy continues to destroy us with their endless weaponry, and yet you insist on giving that all up for one, measly life?”
“Without your guidance, we will fall!” Ludwig says. Tears form in his eyes. He doesn’t want to face the enemy alone. He doesn’t want to lead hundreds of men to potential doom. He doesn’t want to be given full sway over life and death by a father whose mental condition had seemingly deteriorated in recent times. He wants to run back to the castle, to his room, and under his covers where nothing bad can happen.
As if sensing his thoughts, Orgatio feigns a smile. “Do not fear the worst. You are a brave soldier, the best I’ve seen. My liege is the least of your concerns now. Fight in my honor and in the honor of those who fight with you and fall by you and you will prevail!”
“But I-“
“Waste no seconds on me! Fight, my Prince, fight!”
It is there that the conversation ends. It is a sudden end, but a fitting end nonetheless. Orgatio stares into Ludwig’s eyes and musters all the courage he can in his weakened body, channeling the spirit of the warrior into a doubtful soldier. When his body is depleted of all energy, he lets go of the handrail and plunges to the water below.
Ludwig tries to scream for him, but his wail is lost in the ensuing gunfire. All five doomships are sinking. All fifteen enemy ships are standing.
Koopatrols scramble to and fro on deck, screaming orders to one another that make little sense and only cause more confusion. Ludwig stares at them dejectedly, and wonders if it might be best that he end it there, lead his comrades in a suicidal march towards the enemy like pigs to the slaughter. It would be a quick death for all of them, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about enduring his father’s accusations.
But then he’d be letting Orgatio down. His siblings, too, whose constant bickering was a façade for hidden love.
And then there was Her. The woman he’d be killing, in more ways than one, with his death.
He doesn’t want to do it, but Orgatio’s words echo in his head and he knows what’s right. With a deep intake of air and a dismissal of all interfering emotion, he walks to his panicking subordinates and shouts:
“All right, men! Each and every one of you!” The soldiers turn in unison at the sound of their prince’s voice, shocked by his sternness. “All of our ships have been downed. We are currently sinking. The enemy happens to have a larger supply of projectiles at their disposal as well as the leadership of Mario and Luigi.” Moods sour. The soldiers huddle together in a pathetic mass of cowering men. “But there is no need to panic! No need to admit defeat! What we have that the Mushroomers don’t is an army of the best trained soldiers on all of Plit!”
Ludwig gestures towards the approaching Mushroom fleet with his lance, a fiery blaze in his eye. In a voice not unlike his father’s, he shouts, “We do not need a ship to succeed in battle. We have the men, we have the weapons, and we have the leadership! We will board their ships, kill every one of those Mushroom scum, and claim victory in the name of the Koopa Kingdom!”
Silence falls upon the soldiers. They are still huddled together, but instead of cowering and whimpering they are staring at Ludwig in complete awe. Several seconds later a few soldiers stand rigid and throw their hands up in salute. Others follow suit, and soon the remaining fleet is saluting Ludwig, ready for combat with morale beyond anything they had ever felt.
Ludwig smiles, returns the salute, and delivers his orders…
Ludwig couldn’t remember what he said, but he knew that what he did got fifty-seven men killed and eighty-nine wounded, himself included. For a week and a half he was in the hospital ward unconscious. When he came back to reality, he was moved to his room, which was when the bloodstain came into existence.
There came a steady knock at the door. Ludwig didn’t bother to raise his head in response. He simply said, “Come in,” in a dull monotone and waited for the nurses to walk inside, take his vitals, and leave with faux cheeriness.
Instead, the door burst open with vehement force, followed by several footsteps that Ludwig swore were those of a giant.
“Ludwig von Koopa!” a shrill female voice berated. Her green, slender shadow hovered over Ludwig’s face, and he could feel strands of black hair tickling his nose. “It’s been almost a week and a half since you gained consciousness, and only now do you choose to invite me?! Well aren’t you considerate?”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Karma,” Kamek’s calculative voice said from the doorway. “Ludwig’s been coming in and out of consciousness for the past week, and only lately has his condition stabilized.”
“Was I talking to you?” Karma snarled. “In fact, you hovering over my shoulder is downright annoying. Couldn’t you go someplace else until I’m done with Ludwig?”
Ludwig wanted to point out that Karma was being hypocritical in telling Kamek to stop hovering when she was five inches above his face. He always wished to say that he’d rather she not use the phrase “done with Ludwig” like it were a Mafia hit job. But both issues were permanent characteristics of Karma he’d come to accept long ago. At a time like this, however, he only wished she could afford some compassion.
With a sigh and shrug, Kamek ebbed away until he was nothing more than a memory. The door slammed shut with his departure and Karma took the opportunity to launch right into it.
“I bet you’re thinking how much of a jerk I’m being to you right now,” Karma said with arms on her hips, eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Well I’m not going to defend my actions, but I’m going to say that what you did was a jerky thing itself. When you got your butt blown up back there, I felt the pain from a thousand miles away! I felt like I was going to die, writhing on the floor with my eyes lolled back and tongue flapping about like a freaking dog!”
“Karma, I-” Ludwig attempted.
“I could have died back then, and not a single doctor wanted to touch my ‘filthy’ body. As soon as you’re burnt to a crisp, everybody’s rushing to fix up the great Ludwig, the wonderful Ludwig, the Ludwig who will save all of Koopa-kind…while I get better through a stroke of luck!”
“You have to understand-”
“All I wanted was a single apology. I’m sure during your little bouts of consciousness you could have spared a second to say it ‘fore you went cold, but no, you left me worrying sick while you napped like a little baby!”
Ludwig gave up on trying to get through. He sighed and his eyes rolled back to the ceiling and the sun a thousand miles above it. Karma got ready for another rant, but when she saw the look in Ludwig’s eyes, the coldness behind his irises, she swallowed her words and took a step back.
“Maybe you’d be better off that way,” Ludwig said without realizing it.
“What are you talking about? If you died, too bad, but I don’t… want…” Karma’s voice trailed off. Her rage had subsided to make way for uncertainty. “I mean… you… don’t want me dead…”
“I don’t remember much of how I got to be here,” Ludwig said, “but all I know is that as I saw fellow soldiers die, I wanted to be the next one. I wanted to get a quick, painless stab to the heart to end all my misery.”
It was Karma’s turn to try and interrupt. “Ludwig, I don’t think-”
“Maybe it would have done the same for you. Instead of having to suffer for days on end, you’d have just dropped dead and escaped from the castle.” Ludwig smiled. “I know how much you want to get away. It would have been your chance-”
“I don’t want to die and take from my parents all hopes of seeing me again!” Karma shouted. Her volume and intensity was greater than usual, and several servants in the hallway stopped in fear that the walls would crumble upon them.
Ludwig normally would have reacted similarly, but he stared right through her with dazed eyes and watched a Wiggler climb a tree one thousand miles away. If he had been focused, he would have seen the look of horror on Karma’s face. She had expected him to be his usual self: loud, obnoxious, self-centered, and very wimpy when you got down to it. What she got instead was an empty shell of what was once a child but now no different from a corpse.
“At least you have parents that love you,” Ludwig said.
“What are you talking about? Bowser pampers you every chance he gets,” Karma said.
The Prince of Koopas chuckled. “If he really loved me, he wouldn’t be so insistent on having me die young.”
“Did you have Kamek fetch me just so you could dump all your problems on my back?” Karma said. She was starting to sweat. “I thought you were stronger than that.”
“To tell you the truth, I have no idea myself,” Ludwig said. “I guess it’s true I wanted somebody to tell my problems, but I have myself for that.” He looked up at Karma, but this time his eyes were focused right on her face. They tried to push her a thousand miles away with the burning intensity they held, but Karma did her best to stay put. “Maybe I’m just starting to wonder what’s the point of us being together if you don’t want to be here and I have to fight wars for a kingdom I don’t even love?”
It was then that Karma’s naïveté faltered long enough that she could see the truth: Ludwig was dying.
Not physically; she would have felt it if he had a date with the reaper. He was dying in a way that only a war veteran who had seen friends and family die more than they could bear could explain. Ludwig’s mind, fragile and still young, had taken too much anguish in such a short time and was trying to lighten its load before it kicked the bucket. This apparently meant trying to disconnect himself from his most prevalent form of stress: his Met.
The angry Karma would have gladly obliged with Ludwig’s attempt. The Karma that had burst through the door with murder on mind would have told him off in a smarmy manner before stomping out with a feeling of self-satisfaction. But free of all extremes she could see that Ludwig, the closest thing to a friend in this DADforsaken castle, was on his way to living life in bed with no friends, no family, and nothing but hope that death would come quickly. And then he’d wait for another death, the death that would free him from all obligations to the Koopa Kingdom and anything else in life…
Such as Karma.
She didn’t imagine it hurting her, but it did. It hurt like the sting of a Buzzer, and she realized for the first time that Ludwig meant a lot to her. She couldn’t let him crumble with no regard for his or anybody else’s feelings.
“So I think that we should- Karma?”
Karma couldn’t take anymore. With her tail between her legs, she ran out the door and into the hallway, taking deep breaths as if oxygen was growing less and less plentiful. She didn’t even look back; she just continued to run and hope that the image would fall out of her mind if she ran fast enough.
Ludwig still sat in his bed, staring at Karma as she ran. To him, she seemed a thousand miles away. The bloodstain, however, sat right at his side with a malicious grin and grimy hands reaching for his neck.
“Please make it quick,” Ludwig said as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
~~~
General Orgatio walked into the library of Castle Koopa, constructed five centuries prior by King Newell Koopa, and made his way towards the “History” section.
He bid a hasty good afternoon to the librarian on duty, the late Miley Davis, apologized for the heavy clanking of his armor, and slipped into the shadows of the towering bookshelves. He hadn’t been in the room often, with its maze-like arrangement of shelves and tables and bodies of armor and signs pointing away from what was written on them, but he knew the area well enough to take the shortest path to his destination: History: Koopa Kings: M.
Bent on his knees, Orgatio scanned the dusty books for his key to unraveling the truth. The faded, brown hardcovers all seemed to blend together and create one giant book, further complicating his search. He wished he stopped by the library more. Maybe then he’d know how to find the wretched book.
After looking through the row of volumes, he pushed them aside to see if it had gotten shuffled into the back. What he got instead was Kamek’s wiggling ring finger and a floating scroll.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Orgatio said. “That got old, I’m not sure, fifteen years ago?”
Kamek chuckled in his quivering, senior-like manner as he leaned casually on Orgatio’s shoulder. “An old man has to get his kicks somehow, wouldn’t you say?” he said coyly.
“Yeah, well do that when you’ve retired,” Orgatio said.
“Don’t be so bitter when I’ve come to help you,” Kamek said with a wave of the scroll. “I was just on my way to the library when I had a premonition that you’d be here looking for a book on the late King Morton Koopa. I took the time to wonder why General Orgatio, all brawn and no brain, would want to read something like that, but I knew it was not in my place to question your purpose so I got the text on your behalf!”
The scroll unrolled itself to reveal the concealed ink within. In broad, elegant strokes the title, Life of Morton Koopa, was the only legible piece of writing on the roll of paper. The rest had faded from age or been torn up by an angry Koopa, of which the Koopa Kingdom had many.
Orgatio blinked, unconvinced. “You expect me to believe that piece of paper has everything on Morton Koopa’s seventy year life? Quit messing with me, Kamek.”
Kamek let out a haughty, shrill laugh that prompted a “Shh,” from Ms. Davis several bookshelves away. There were times when Orgatio felt that Kamek was going through a mental breakdown much like his liege. The only thing that separated the ailing Magikoopa from a coldhearted tyrant was how he could adjust his sanity level as he pleased. Oh, and he never killed any of his children.
“Surely you must understand the concept of a “cursed scroll”.
“I didn’t think know biographies needed to be cursed.”
Kamek’s laugh subsided to a raspy, scholarly chuckle. His face seemed to change with his energy level, growing wearier and older as if several years had flown by right then. “Orgatio, my old friend, there is a lot you don’t know.”
The sudden mood swing didn’t help Orgatio feel at ease with Kamek, and neither did his foreboding words. “I don’t want to dwell on cursed scrolls and why this particular scroll is cursed. Just tell me how to break the scroll’s curse so I can read it!”
“I’ll tell you if you first tell to me why you want it so badly.”
“Nothing that concerns you, Kamek!”
“Then I guess you don’t really want it that much. That’s okay, I was thinking of checking it out myself.”
“You arrogant, little…!”
Miley Davis floated towards them and gave them one last scolding before she’d throw them out. It didn’t matter to her that the rest of the library was devoid of all life save for, ironically, another Boo and Dry Bones, but the two obliged and lowered their voices to exaggerated whispers.
“I don’t want to play this game,” Orgatio snapped. “You probably don’t realize it, but there are some weird things going on these days, and I want to solve it.”
Kamek smiled as he held the scroll behind his back. “Is that so? Do continue.”
Orgatio didn’t want to say anything else to the nosy Magikoopa, but realizing that the game would go on until he gave in or gave up, he conceded defeat and, after making sure that Ms. Davis was on the other side of the room, began the story.
He described his suspicion of King Koopa’s sanity, reminding Kamek of what had happened to Bowser Jr. and the island of Torca. He also recalled the public execution of Stanley, a human reputed to be Mario’s cousin. The sweating, beady-eyed man begged for his life at Bowser’s knees, his shirt torn off to show the whip marks along his back. Stanley explained how he arrived on Plit through a pipe in the sewers of Brooklyn, stumbled through the unknown locales with only a can of bugspray to stay alive, and had no idea who this Mario person was.
Despite his cries for help, Bowser sent him to the lava pits outside the castle, where he was slowly lowered into the fiery depths. They started with his feet and then made their way up until the flames consumed all of his body, and then they dropped whatever was left of his ashy remains. The public had cheered Stanley’s death on, and Orgatio believed that was the last time he saw Dark Land support Bowser.
Orgatio finished his tale with the report to Bowser less than a half an hour ago and how Bowser had shrugged off the increasing number of rebellions. It was as if they were nothing but a swarm of incessant flies zooming around his head. Just swat them out, spray them with a can of bugspray (like Stanley, Orgatio sickeningly thought), or attract them with a nice, pretty lightbulb, coaxing their touch with its glow until-
“I know you’re my liege’s most trusted advisor,” Orgatio said, “but we’ve been friends for twenty-five years. I don’t want this to sound like I’m a traitor, but do understand that I’m concerned about the king’s safety, his family’s safety, and the safety of the kingdom.”
Kamek stared at the ground and scratched at his spectacles as if deep in thought. His playful demeanor had made way for dreary contemplation, and Orgatio could now see every line on his face, wrinkle on his hand, and wart on his chin. Magikoopas generally had a long life span, but Kamek looked as if he was seconds away from death.
“Ah, King Bowser Koopa,” Kamek said in a croaky voice. “Yes, he has always been a tad bit on the… unstable side of things. I knew that from the moment I saw King Morton cradling the Koopaling in his hand, staring at it with such disparity. I think Morton had a hunch that this baby had a few screws loose. They say it’s the mother that has that feeling, but Morton’s sixth sense was quite acute…”
“So,” Orgatio began hesitantly, “you’re saying that the insanity didn’t come from Morton?”
Kamek looked appalled, and Orgatio feared that he had stepped over some line of conduct. Was Morton a good friend of Kamek’s? He had never spoken much of the deceased king, and Orgatio often figured that Kamek was neutral on Bowser’s father.
“I never said anything like that,” Kamek said, but instead of scolding Orgatio for ever insinuating that Morton could be the slightest bit insane, he handed the scroll to him with frail hands. “If you want the answer to that question, then read this scroll. Morton had me curse it so that nobody could read it unless he or myself willed it, but you’re good to go.”
“You… want me to find out?” Orgatio took the scroll, which felt cold in his hand. Kamek was going through a lot of mood swings, and he heard that Magikoopas’ emotions shifted erratically during their last days of life. Kamek was a fighter though, and it never seemed like he was approaching death…
“As I said, there are many things you don’t know. There are many things I don’t know either, but unlike you, I have no interest in uncovering the many secrets of this wretched kingdom.” Kamek had never referred to the Koopa Kingdom as “wretched”. He smiled as he said it, as if it were a joke, but through his thick glasses Orgatio saw no humor. “You seem to know what you’re doing. Maybe, just maybe you’ve got a plan that will help us all.”
“Kamek, I really…”
And then he was back to his playful side.
With a coy grin, Kamek said, “I believe that it’s time we part ways, my friend. Need to make sure that Mrs. Karma hasn’t torn Ludwig to pieces.”
Orgatio didn’t want to change topics, but at the same time the mention of Ludwig caught his attention. “That’s right. He was released from the ward not too long ago. Is he conscious?”
“My Prince is like a flickering light bulb. He goes on and off whenever DAD wills it. I am surprised that he chose his time in reality to talk with Karma.”
“She’s still angry,” Orgatio said with a nod. “I’ve seen her in the halls, walking around sulking, fuse unlit. I think she was waiting for something to come and set her on fire.”
Kamek chuckled, but it was a higher-pitched chuckle, closer to the laugh that signified happiness. “I never understood women, Orgatio. Never been married in my one hundred and forty years of life, and I intend to keep it that way.”
Orgatio returned the chuckle, but deep down he felt some hurt. He was married. Technically. He hadn’t seen his wife in thirty years, and he didn’t want to talk about his past.
Kamek saw the pain in his friend’s eyes and his mood dropped. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s all right, Kamek,” Orgatio said, and he tried to feign a smile. “Look, I know you have to go, so perhaps we can discuss these matters later.”
“Very well.” And then he was happy again. “Hope that scroll helps you.”
“I’m sure it will. Thank you for the-”
And then he was gone. Kamek the magician, Kamek the unpredictable, Kamek the old and fading.
Orgatio stared at where his friend had moments before been standing with wavering lips, halfway between a smile and a frown. In his eyes he saw a twinkle of joy, but it was dull and looked as if his pride had taken a hit in recent times.
There are many things I don’t know either, he had said, and the words lingered in Orgatio’s head like so many other thoughts. Kamek did know something, all right. Maybe not each individual secret, but he knew that something was going on. The war had brought a wave of change over Dark Land, and everything seemed distant. Everything seemed foreign. The land, the people, the buildings, even their own king, whose insanity had seemed to intensify since the war’s end. All the elements that had previously been unified, however loosely, and split their bonds and lived in separate words that occasionally clashed for power.
Something was happening, and Orgatio felt for some inexplicable reason that it was all tied to Prince Ludwig and his girl, the perpetually furious Yoshi/Koopa hybrid. Even she had changed, as if some force controlled her very soul.
That’s the key, Orgatio thought, and he glanced at the scroll before walking out of the library. He bid a quick farewell to Miley Davis and then made his way towards the laboratory on the castle’s top floor.
“I have no interest in uncovering the many secrets of this wretched kingdom.”
But Orgatio did, and no matter where the questions took him, he’d head towards the truth.
To Be Continued...
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