The world judges a person by their appearance. I've stopped apologizing about mine a long time ago. -- BKF
"There are old Teufellen and there are bold Teufellen. There are very few old, bold Teufellen," lectured the old Hellkin to Risk, who he had caught trying to pickpocket. "As far as I know, I'm the only one who's both. So. Before I call the Watch about you..."
Risk didn't let him get any further. Ze put on the mummer's tears and sobbed, "Please don't let them get me! They'll cut off my hands and brand my arms and sell me to the slavers! Ple-he-heee-ease..."
"They don't do that here in Arbordeep," said the old man. "Try a different scam."
"Not them. My Da. He said he'd do it and he gets real mad when I don't come home with enough and his friends are real rough with me."
"Then you should want the Watch," said the old man. "They'll take you away from those people and... at your age? They'll get you an apprenticeship in a good trade."
Fuck. That was the last thing Risk wanted to happen. "They did that! I got in with Xiolein! They'll be real mad you messed with me."
"No. He won't. Tell the truth, kleiner. You will have less to worry about."
Deep breath. Ze couldn't squirm out of that grasp no matter how hard ze tried. "I don't wanna be a prentice or work for nobody. You looked like a feeble old dodder! Easy pickings..."
The old devil found this hilarious, but still never lost his grip. "First time in my life that I wasn't a threat, and it's a flea-bit snatchpurse who has the intuition of a concussed snail..."
"What?"
"You have the honour of being in the captivity of the Thrice-Sworn King," said the old one. "Retired. An assassin of other kings, amongst many other titles. I won't bore you with any of them, they bore the fuck out of me."
"No way! Kings wear ermine robes and gold crowns, and they're covered in diamonds and... they don't... carry... money." That was yet another reason why hir pickpocketing had been unsuccessful. The old dodder hadn't had a coin pouch on him. Well. Not anywhere obvious.
"Putting it together?" he teased. "Maybe this will help." He took a deep breath, and his shadow stretched into the form of a solid being. Not just any solid being, but the Shadow Teufel.
The only creature that cared about little devils like hirself.
All the fight bled out of Risk in an instant. Hir knees went weak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't know you were him... or... is he part of you?"
The old King let go, as his shadow walked around to cut off the exit. "Some times, it's hard to tell. Now. I ask the questions, you answer honestly, and we may yet find some amenable direction for you."
The Shadow Teufel had come for Risk, last Midwinterfeast. Gifting hir some really good boots that still fit a year later, and hadn't worn thin. Ze was suddenly very aware that ze was being judged by the only entity that had ever cared about hir before. Followed closely by the brand new sensation of not wanting to disappoint Him.
"...please don't kill me?" whimpered Risk.
"First and most important," said the old King. "Have you eaten today?"
Risk could only shake hir head.
"Then let's begin with a meal," the retired King offered his hand. This time, Risk took it willingly. "And a lesson for life: Never judge on first impressions. Always be sure of your target before you strike. And always have an exit strategy. Something that would work a little better by knowing how things are really run."
"What?"
"Your choices are yours, of course," said the King as his shadow returned to normal once more. "I've spent my life trying to make the world a little kinder for Teufellen like you. But... if you are going to keep making silly choices like today's... you need to know how to do it right."
"This is the weirdest day," announced Risk.
"Bad news, kind. You have all the makings of an Adventurer. It's going to get weirder."
[Photo by Michèle Quéméneur on Unsplash]
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