Only Villains Do That

I almost signed a document without checking all the details, I’ll admit that, but I did pull it out of the fire at the last second.

“So, this business I’m authorizing you to continue under my hypothetical future rule,” I said, pausing the wrapped ink stick a centimeter above the damp paper I had placed against the wall to add my signature to Goggin’s (the writing technology here was no less ingenious for being behind Earth’s), “it’s just the Spirit? That pays for all this?”

Judge Gazmo snorted loudly, and I lifted the…let’s just call it a pencil for simplicity’s sake.

“Is there a problem?” Goggin asked nervously.

“Somebody wanna let me in on the joke?” I looked from him to Gazmo and back.

“Well, I mean…owning this property has a couple of benefits,” Goggin said, dry-washing his hands now. Well, as dry as he could considering we were all being lightly misted by the waterfall. “The Spirit, yes, but the core of my business is the water.”

Yoshi inhaled sharply. “You…control the water source.”

“A water source,” Goggin corrected. “One of the better ones on this part of the island, in fact!”

“Omura, are you sure you want to endorse this?” Yoshi asked.

“Less so with every passing second.”

“What? What’s the issue?” Goggin exclaimed. “I’m a respectable businessman.”

Nazralind snorted. “Ah, yes, the rallying cry of every ow! Dammit, Aster, not the instep!”

“I dunno what you two’re envisioning, but it’s probably not that,” Gazmo stated, stepping in before this went any further off the rails. “Water rights in Kzidnak don’t work like Fflyr nobles handle ‘em, much less…wherever you’re from. Owning a water source is a steady income, because everybody needs water, but not a high income because there’s a lot of overhead involved and you can only charge so much. Gotta keep the source clean and flowing, and keep prices down.”

“Ahh,” I nodded. “Because the Judges shut down overcharging?”

This time it was Fram who let out the loud snort. “Oh, I wish. I never get to stab anybody. What’s the point of carrying these big-ass wormstickers if we never stab anybody? That’s what I wanna know.”

“I wanna know what table in the revels of Hell you crawled off of, you bloodthirsty little spiner,” Gazmo growled. “Look, the last time I heard about Judges having to intervene in a case of water gouging, it was to try to find out who made the gouger disappear, and they never did. Goblins hate resorting to force as a rule, despite the impression Jadrak and my miserable excuse for an apprentice are probably giving you. But, there’s not a goblin alive who doesn’t know what it’s like to be desperate enough to do something they hate. If you live in a society of creative problem solvers, you learn not to make yourself a problem. Water puts food on Goggin’s table; the Spirit’s what puts those fancy drapes on his green carcass.”

I hefted the pencil, considering. “As long as I’m not being made a party to depriving people…”

“We’re not Fflyr,” Goggin protested with a frown.

“You know, I’m starting to take offense at that,” said Aster. “Every mean thing you think about Fflyr is mostly just highborn.”

Flaethwyn opened her mouth, then closed it when Pashilyn placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not the highborn who throw things at us for daring to walk on their streets,” Gazmo stated, staring at Aster. For what might have been the first time since I’d known her, she seemed caught without a response, averting her eyes after a second. “Anyway. If that assuages your concerns, Dark Lord, wanna move this along?”

I still had…questions. But practically, if I waited to fully understand the nuances before committing to anything, I would never get anywhere. I’d just have to do my best and deal with whatever consequences arose.

I added my signature under Goggin’s, and handed the contract and pencil over to Judge Gazmo. He paused, peering at the hiragana characters, then glanced up at me, but finally shrugged and added his own signature as witness. I guess a foreign writing system wasn’t a dealbreaker for him, which was good, because it was for me. I could transliterate my name into Khazid or Fflyr—or English—but it just wouldn’t be the same. He should be glad I was in the habit of just spelling it, instead of using the kanji.

It pissed off my dad something fierce, you see.

“Perfect! Delighted to be in business, Lord Seiji!” Goggin said, apparently sincere now that he had my name in ink. “Well, then—this way, ah, gentlemen. Let’s get you some Spirit action!”

“Hot,” Fram commented, then dodged a swipe from Gazmo’s staff.

“Right, so I guess we’ll just…stand around out here, then,” Flaethwyn said stridently, folding her arms.

“Nazralind,” I called as we followed Goggin deeper into the stone structure, “keep Flaethwyn entertained.”

“Why do I have to?!”

“What does that mean?!”

“That was just cruel,” Yoshi muttered to me while we passed into dimness and out of the spray, and the growing argument. “Now everybody has to deal with two shouting elves.”

“Well, hey.” I grinned at him. “I am the Dark Lord.”

“So, needless to say, we can’t give any answers to the Spirit’s question,” Goggin explained, leading us through the carved-out hall that gradually turned into an apparent natural tunnel. He seemed more animated in general now that he was back on familiar ground, so to speak. “You can leave the Spirit’s presence to work on your challenge and come back later with the solution—but, be aware that it will know if someone gave you the answer and will refuse to speak with you further. Management isn’t responsible for any loss of reward due to failure to abide by the Spirit’s terms. With all that established! As a secondary service, for an extremely reasonable fee, my accountant can provide limited assistance in finding your answer.”

“Your…accountant?” Yoshi asked. “Wait, what kinds of questions is it going to ask?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Goggin said cheerily. “Again, no solutions will be given, but if you’re unfamiliar with the process itself—many are—we can coach you on it. Now, ordinarily customers visit the Spirit one at a time, but, ah… Well, you two seem willing to share. Just keep in mind the rules. Don’t help each other with the answers and it shouldn’t object.”

“Okay,” I said, beginning to be apprehensive about this.

He led us through two locked doors, the keys to which he produced, and finally stopped at a third, which he opened with a flourish. “And here we are, gents. Take as much time as you need, and remember, assistance is available for a very fair and reasonable surcharge!”

Goggin gently eased himself back through the door after we stepped through, slinking around in such a way that his grin disappeared last, a second before he closed it.

“He says that, but we’d probably better make this as quick as we can,” said Yoshi.

“I agree. And not just because that guy and his ‘reasonable fee’ make me suspicious as hell.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad it wasn’t just me.”

We were locked in the Spirit’s cavern, which was much smaller than the one back at Jadrak’s place, but also much nicer. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver around the Spirit altar itself; this was less cramped than Head Start’s enclosure but I got the distinct impression the goddesses had put this thing here expecting it to be visited by goblins, and only one at a time. Still, it had the prettiest environs of any Spirit I’d encountered yet: horizontal khora roots made flat ledges around the dome-shaped room, themselves decorated with moss, and more of those leafy hanging vines hung from some of the higher ones, as well as partially obscuring the opening in the ceiling through which sunlight filtered in. There was a soft burble of water from a stream that ran in through one crack in the wall and out another. Even the air smelled damp and clean, with the pleasant scent of earth and leaves.

We barely had time to take in the view before the Spirit itself was activated by our presence, pale light igniting along the grooves in its altar and the glowing, translucent face appearing above. This one was female—or at least feminine—the stylized features accented by lines around the eyes and mouth to suggest maturity.

“Now this I don’t see every day,” the Spirit stated by way of greeting. “A Champion of the Goddess, occasionally, sure—always the high point of my century, especially as it’s been nearly a millennium since one wandered down here. But both at once! You two must surely be on your way to building a truly incredible story.”

“Uh—it’s nice to meet you,” said Yoshi, reflexively bowing. “We’ll be in your care.”

“And so polite! That’s already an improvement over…several recent Heroes. So I hear, anyway.”

“Yeah, that guy Hara sounds like he was a piece of work,” I agreed. “Well! Good to meet you and all, but we don’t have a lot of time, here.”

“I have nothing but time,” the Spirit replied with a cool little smile, “but on the other hand, things such as I are not really made for small talk. Very well, boys, let’s see what you’re made of. Who’s going first?”

“Uh.” Yoshi turned toward me. “Why don’t—”

Oh, no you don’t.

“After you, Hero,” I said, bowing. “I insist.”

He made a face, but turned back to the Spirit, rolling his shoulders. “All right, then, I guess it’s me. Present me your challenge, Spirit!”

“Less polite, but I appreciate the formality. So be it, then!”

Her face disappeared, replaced by lines of glowing blue text. For a split second I felt excitement rising in me: I was looking at code! Here it was, I’d found it—a hint at the inner workings of the system!

“Solve,” the Spirit’s voice echoed sententiously, “for x.”

Then, on second glance, I realized that I fully understood what I was seeing. It wasn’t code. It was entirely familiar; a mix of Arabic numerals, Latin letters, and standard English punctuation, forming…

“Wait,” Yoshi protested, blinking rapid. “That’s—it’s just—that’s an algebra problem.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I yelled, causing him to wince and shy away from me. Okay, fair, it was a small stone room and the moss did little to dampen the echo. But still.

“There is no shame if you’re not up to the task, boys,” said the disembodied voice in a tone too solemn to be anything but mocking. “Many are those who fail a Spirit’s challenge. More than those who succeed and are rewarded.”

“Well, now we know why it’s the accountant who’s available to help with this,” said Yoshi.

There came the disembodied sound of a throat being cleared, which was pretty wild from an artificial entity that didn’t have one of those.

“I’ll know if you cheat.”

“Yeah, that’s what the goblin said. So, wait…hang on.” Yoshi leaned toward the glowing math notation, narrowing his eyes. “This should be… I wonder if the order of operations is the same as what we were taught on Earth. Am…I allowed to ask that?”

“You are, and it is.”

“How do you know what’s taught on Earth?” I demanded.

“What the Goddesses know, the Spirits know. The limit is in what we are allowed to tell—which is little, and lest you be afflicted with clever ideas, will become even less if you try to pry. The Sisters are spectacularly intolerant of others playing with their toys.”

“Okay, this should be doable,” Yoshi murmured, now frowning at the problem. “This is just…well, it’s high school level math, at most. If it was something like calculus or trigonometry we’d be screwed, but we should be able to do this.”

“Are you serious? Look at the size of that thing!”

“Really, though, that just creates busy work,” he said reasonably. “Math is math. If you just do the operations in their proper order… Oh, man, that’s going to be a lot to remember. I should’ve asked the goblins for something to write on. And with. If I’d known…”

“He would’ve charged you for it.” I fished in the inner pocket of my coat, after a moment pulling out a small notepad of stiff paper bound by a simple leather cord, and one of the wrapped ink sticks the Fflyr used as pencils. “Here.”

Yoshi blinked at my offering before taking it. “Why do you have…”

“Because they’re handy to have, easily pocket-sized, and one of the few positive things about this country is you can get materials to read or write with basically everywhere.”

“Thanks, Omura! Right then, with this I think we’re in business!”

Well, at least somebody was happy.

I have to hand it to the boy, he buckled down to concentrate and seemed to be making good progress, to judge by his constant scratching. There are few things in creation more boring than watching other people do math problems, though, so after just a couple of minutes I casually sauntered around to the opposite side of the Spirit, as far from Yoshi as I could get in the cramped little cave.

“Hey, Biribo.” I pitched my voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the Hero. He was fully occupied with his homework, anyway.

“Boss?” My ever-perceptive familiar replied in the same volume right at my ear, the buzz of his wings louder than his voice.

“How come the Hero over there always yells his spell names? I thought silent casting was a Champion perk.”

Biribo flicked out his tongue at me, which at that range meant I came a lot closer than I liked to being licked. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“Well, I mean… I can do it, and everybody seems real impressed by that. Why else would I be able to?”

To my surprise, Radatina joined the conversation, buzzing over to us and fortunately having the discretion to also pitch her voice as low as possible. To judge by her tone, she was probably just huffy that we were talking about Yoshi behind his back.

“Silent casting has nothing to do with magical power, it’s a trick of concentration. Casting spells is mentally difficult, no matter your capacity; voicing and gestures help focus the effort. Some people just have surprising talents, Lord Seiji, and you happen to be one. That’s probably why Virya picked you. Partly, at least.”

“It’s a lot less random than that,” Biribo disagreed. “It’s not a guarantee, but the trick of silent casting is associated with a performing arts background. You’re already used to executing complex mental and physical tasks on demand and under stress; those are skills that translate well to mental work.”

“…huh. So…Yoshi can learn it, though?”

“Anyone can. It’s just pretty hard, if you don’t happen to have the knack. He can probably learn it faster than most people could, since despite what pixiewings here claims, having more power does make a difference. It’s easier to cast spells if you’ve got bottomless energy, and that frees up your mental resources to improve your technique.”

“Hmm.” I had to wonder, sometimes, whether the day would ever come when I really understood all the ins and outs of this magic system full of arbitrary bullshit. Probably not; it was pretty clearly designed to prevent anybody but the goddesses from knowing how to pull all the levers.

It took him a good ten minutes; that was an intimidatingly long and convoluted problem. I was not optimistic about my own chances, but there was nothing to do about it at the moment except try to distract myself. Fortunately Yoshi was too preoccupied and the familiars to oblivious to the implications, so nobody made fun of me for humming softly and playing air guitar.

You gotta do what you gotta do.

“X equals three!” Yoshi suddenly declared. He looked downright triumphant in that moment, but immediately wilted, uncertainty overtaking his features. “…right?”

The pause was momentary, but entirely unnecessary. Just there to drag out the suspense. I approved on principle, even knowing I was going to feel differently about it when it was my turn.

“Correct,” the Spirit finally declared. The equation dissolved back into the cartoonish face, which smiled at him. “Well done, Hero. When you are looking back over the course of your life and tallying the great victories you achieved… I suspect you will not even recall this one. But a win is a win—and a reward is a reward. One answer will I give you, one piece of guidance to bring you directly to what it is you most need. So let me ask you first—and you, Dark Lord—what truth do you desire? An answer to help you out of your current predicament? Or, perhaps, a more distant, final piece of advice to resolve your ultimate purpose on this world?”

Unconsciously, at least on my part, our eyes met. For a second, Yoshi and I stared at each other. Thinking.

Then we both looked away.

Son of a bitch, that was a good play. Maybe on the part of the Spirit; maybe the Counter was just as puckish as Head Start and more sly, but come on. This was such a Goddess move. One or the other of them—or both—were here putting a finger on the scales, as they always did. Making sure the Hero and the Dark Lord were forced to remember that ultimately, this ended with the two of us on opposite ends of a sword.

If they got their way.

“Destinies are created, not foretold,” I stated, my voice firm but calm. Yeah, if there was ever a moment for showtime, this was it. “I am not going to do what I was brought to this stupid world to do, and I’m not interested in being told how best to dance to Virya’s tune. I’ll take all the help I can get sorting out this Void and goblin mess, but when it comes down to the final resolution?”

Yoshi and the Spirit had both turned their heads to study me now. I felt my upper lip begin to curl in a reflexive sneer of resentment, and I let it. Right now, a little emotional honesty suited my message.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

That’s right, Spirit, you overplayed your hand. Calling me out as well as Yoshi to draw attention to how this would affect our ultimate relationship may have helped drive that point home, but it also gave me the opportunity to talk back. If it hadn’t specifically asked for my opinion, me butting in would have seemed overbearing and manipulative.

In fact…

“But that’s just me,” I said, deliberately moderating my tone. “It’s your answer, Yoshi; you should ask for the one that’s right for you. Don’t worry about our immediate problem if you’re more concerned about the future. I bet my answer will give us enough guidance to pull this out.”

“You haven’t earned an answer yet, Dark Lord,” the Spirit reminded me with a pleasant little smile, the smug fucker.

“I think…me, too,” Yoshi said slowly. His expression firmed up, though, and he gave the Spirit a resolute nod. “I’m going to continue to grow as I work toward the future. If anything, I’m worried that knowing too much too far ahead will cause me to develop myself into something I can’t take pride in. I already have all this power… Having too much handed to me without earning it isn’t the way to be a Hero. And let’s face it, solving math problems doesn’t have much to do with earning wisdom. Uh, no offense. So please tell me how I can best help defeat the Goblin King.”

“It’s not good to get tunnel vision, boys,” the Counter said with a wink, “but you show good sense, just the same. The Void is everyone’s problem, especially yours. Very well, Hero, your answer is this: Trust.”

Yoshi blinked twice. “That…that’s it?”

“You are...underwhelmed?” Yeah, this fucking AI or whatever it was definitely took some kind of pleasure in teasing us. I recognized that tone; it sounded way too much like my first girlfriend. “Tell me, Shinonome Yoshi, have you not been troubled by the question of whom you should trust? As you journey with friends whose loyalties and agendas you do not fully know? Alongside a Dark Lord whose personality challenges your every effort to discern his true nature, among goblins who are both your sworn enemies and more relatable friends than you could have anticipated? Were I you, Hero, the question of trust would predominate my mind.”

Yoshi had shuffled back against the wall and lowered his head; whether intentionally or not, it caused the indirect lighting in this little cavern to cast shadows across his face that made his expression impossible to read.

“And so I give you the answer you have earned. Soon enough, young Hero, your adventures will take you beyond the borders of Dount, into a wider and more uncertain world. Here, though, you have been given the rare blessing of stalwart companions. You will know your enemies, because they will declare themselves such, and those who offer you their faith will repay yours. Take this time, Shinonome-san, to learn from them. You have friends who can teach you how to handle those who conceal their intentions. Until then, take comfort in the companionship of all those who willingly stand beside you. They will not betray you.”

A heavy silence stifled the little chamber. Yoshi looked up at me, then hastily averted his eyes.

“I…”

“Good lad,” the Counter said happily. “All right, Omura Seiji. Solve for x.”

Her face dissolved into another pile of numbers and letters.

I inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly. “Yoshi, I’m gonna need my notebook back.”

Half an hour later, they must’ve been going berserk waiting for us out there.

“See, if you—”

“Don’t help him!” both familiars shouted, interrupting Yoshi’s well-meaning suggestion.

“No cheating, boys,” the Spirit chided. “You need not solve the problem right here in front of me, Dark Lord. Perhaps if you would come back when it is more convenient…”

“All of you shut up!” I barked. “Fuck’s sake, I haven’t had a math class in years! I remember how to do this, it’s just not as fresh for me. Nobody uses algebra in real life after high school!”

“Well, musicians don’t,” Yoshi said. “I think engineers use way more complicated math than that…”

“That’s extremely helpful, Yoshi, thank you. Any more pearls of wisdom you’d care to cast before me?”

“I’ll just…stand over here,” he mumbled, edging back toward the door.

I was close, hence my annoyance. This was taking me so much longer because I was being thorough. I had gone through multiple pages in my notebook solving the bonkers-ass equation, because I was making damn sure I got it right, and that meant doing it multiple times to ensure I got the same solution every time.

This had proved important because the first two attempts had produced wildly different answers.

I was on number five now, though; my last two solutions had matched up. If I got the same this time…

Slowly I inhaled, staring down at my notepad, then raised my eyes to stare at the floating equation.

“X equals seven.”

The numbers disappeared, replaced by the Spirit’s smiling expression.

“Are you certain of that?”

It was trying to psych me out. Drawing out the drama, like a cheap reality show.

“I’m certain.” I did not look over at Yoshi, in case he was nodding or something and the Spirit took that as an excuse to disqualify me for cheating.

It smile widened by a fraction, and then by another. Motherfucker, as soon as I crack this Blessing system open I am gonna come back here and find a way to solidify your face so I can punch it—

“Correct,” the Counter finally decreed. “Congratulations, Lord Seiji; you are a well-educated man. One’s skills may rust, but they remain there, ready to be oiled up. Remember that.”

“That had better not be my reward answer. Christ on a bike, I cannot believe I had to solve a math problem in a cave to get a magic reward. This is the most random-ass arbitrary JRPG bullshit—”

“You do still want your reward, correct?” the Spirit said innocently. “I seem to recall you were in something of a hurry.”

“Well, spit it out, then!”

“I am happy to be of service. Your strategy, Lord Seiji, is to secure the other Spirits of Kzidnak before they can be corrupted by the Goblin King or his chief lackey. Obviously, I applaud this. You will not succeed or reach them all in time, however. This is the answer I provide you, to your question of how to defeat the Goblin King: when you confront Hoy again, if it is over a Spirit altar he is in the process of corrupting, attack unrelentingly. Regardless of the odds, or your planned strategy—regardless of any other factors, regardless even of whether you win or lose. Press the attack over the breaking Spirit altar, and you will gain what you need, even if it costs you the fight.”

I narrowed my eyes to slits. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking whether you’re just telling me this in an attempt to save one of your buddies.”

“One can always ask questions, and should,” replied the Spirit, smiling beatifically. “One is not always entitled to an answer, however. Good luck, Champions. I’m rooting for you both.”

She vanished, face disappearing and the lights fading from her altar as it powered down. We were left standing alone in the silence and the leaf-filtered distant sunlight.

“I hate this planet,” I declared, staring upward at nothing. “I just… I hate it. So very, very much.”

“You wanna get outta here?” Yoshi offered.

“God, yes.”