With Arol, I could not even touch her, which was frustrating, but at least, there lay a hope that as long as I found what could touch her, I would stand a chance should she decide to end my life. With Wunder – it was worse. I could touch him – but I was not sure if I could harm him.
“How?”
“I’m a Barbeast.” He said as if it explained everything. “Arol and I are somewhat lax in comparison to the others, so I suppose I’ll warn you. While it’s good to have a bit of ambition now and then – that ambition will end the second you attack anyone in Fort Zyvar.”
Wunder, with his free hand that was not lugging kobold corpses, patted me on the back with enough force to almost send me sprawling into the dirt. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there eventually. In about a hundred years or so, you just might be able to leave a scratch on my skin.”
A hundred years, he said. There was no mockery in his voice. No conceit. No deception. No haughtiness or condescension. He genuinely and wholeheartedly believed that I would not be able to harm him in a hundred years. The honesty in his voice stung. Somehow, it would have been better if he was mocking me. But the earnestness – it stung.
I did not have a hundred years. I did not know how long it would be before my memories vanished. There was an invisible axe hanging over my neck, and at any moment, it could drop.
“One week.”
“What?”
I pointed with my good right arm. “In one week. I’ll beat you.”
Wunder’s eyes shone. “Is that a challenge?”
“It’s a promise.”
Wunder barked a laugh. “Then I suppose you won’t mind wagering on that, now would you?” His eyes shone with a dangerous glint. “If you can’t manage to draw blood from me within a week, what’ll I get?”
“What do you want?”
Wunder hummed, stroking his chin. “You will help me mate with Onna.”
“I’ll – what?”
“You heard me.”
“How –” I shook my head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I have no intention of losing.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Overconfidence and brazen recklessness make quite a duo.” Wunder said. “So, what are you wagering?”
“A favor.”
Wunder’s brow rose. “Favor?”
“You heard me,” I shot back.
“I suppose… sure, I don’t see why not. There isn’t much difference a week can make.”
Arol stared back and forth between myself and Wunder, shaking her head and muttering underneath her breath. “You’re a dead man Janus.”
“You noticed? What gave it away, the bones?”
“Do you even know who Onna is?”
“I suppose I’ll find out.”
There were no further obstructions as we continued onwards, Wunder surprisingly higher in spirits, and Arol muttering under her breath and shooting me the side-eye every five seconds. Strangely, there were no guards stationed at the gate, no sentries patrolling the walls or anything resembling an organized guard structure. The further I went in the further I could hear the cheers that seemed to fill the air of the entire Fort.
“What is that noise?”
“The Ditch,” Arol said.
“You bet on Onna and Slim again?” Wunder chipped in.
“Just Slim.” She groused. “Onna can go fuck herself.”
“I hear she does that frequently.”
“Everyone knows she does that frequently! I can hear the moans of Erzili! Erzili! Erzili! All through the day every single time I try to trance.”
Wunder sighed. “Erzili does have that effect on people.”
I got the distinct sensation that I was missing something. I did not probe. One way or another, I knew I would get answers. The further we got to the rusty, moss-covered metal, the more something felt off. The gates gave me an odd feeling. I felt like I’d… seen it before. No, that was not accurate. The feeling was déjà vu. A sensation that I had gone through this exact sequence, heard this exact conversation, approached this exact gate, a long time ago that lay as wisps in my memory.
A sharp, high-pitched whine entered into my ears and I winced. The gate started glowing as if someone had flicked a switch and lit up a thousand fireworks over the headlamps of a million cars. “Fuck!”
“What is it?” Arol asked.
“Can’t you see that bloody light?”
Wunder stared straight, squinting. “Light?”
“The light coming from the gate that’s whining!”
Arol tilted her head. Swiveling it to the gates and back, her brow rose. “Whining?”
“Yes!” I snapped. “The gates are too bright and that noise is irritating! What is that, some sort of defense against outsiders?”
The duo stared at me as if I were insane. The confusion on their faces seemed genuine enough for me to almost believe that I was. “Janus, did you hit your head?”
“Maybe it’s a unique ability?” Wunder offered, smiling sheepishly. “I certainly can’t see or hear anything. It’s just a large rusty pair of gates.”
“Maybe Leader Erzili will know what’s up?”
Erzili will know. I resisted the urge to scoff. Forcing myself to ignore the light and the noise, I followed the duo further until the gates were directly in front of me. The high-pitched whine was almost maddening, and the brightness of the gate was reaching a level that could have blinded me.
“Despicable!” a shrill voice screeched. “Despicable! Despicable! Horrible, horrible! Horrible nightmares entering into Fort! Always! Curse you! Curse you! You all!”
Startling, I came to a frigid stop. “What was that?”
“What now?”
“Fort Zyvar curses you! This Fort not for nightmares! Not for nightmares! Not for nightmares! Fort survived Ninefall, yes, Fort did! Fort survived Elvani Wars! Fort survived Devil Horde! Fort survived Anathema-War! Fort now bad! Fort now broken! Fort not for nightmares! Forgive Fort, Master Sionis! Fort not for nightmares!”
I spun around, trying to find something, anything that was talking. Wunder and Arol were losing their patience with my antics, but I did not want to believe that my sanity had gone just yet.
“You…
