A Dark Prince's Flight

I

Tom Pilate's eyes opened and he took in the white ceiling above him.
He had blue eyes. Women used to tell him how handsome they were.
"I think I'm going mad," he said.
No response. Good. That meant he wasn't too far gone.
Was he to do something today? He didn't think so. He did very little these days.
Hell, just two days ago he was a lawyer at a respected firm. Why, a month ago he was married.
He slowly sat up in his bed and ran his hand through his hair.
Fluctuations, he thought.
"No, no," he said. "I'm not going mad."
Again, no reply from his empty little room. Instead, another bubble from his subconcious rose from his brain : Perhaps a melding of universe membranes. Bubble theory? Perhaps. What about tears in the fabric of reality. The cause? Why, energy fluctuations, of course.
He shook his head and stumbled to his washroom. He found the sink. He saw the mirror. He saw the grizzled, unhappy thirty year old staring back.
Thirty. Can I start over at thirty? Sure I can. Can I? I don't know.
He let water run from the tap. He let the water fill his cupped hands.
A month ago he had been married. Nine years ago they had wedded. Ten years ago, he had become a father.
Two weeks ago...
Well, that was when reality got a little harder to hold on to...
He splashed the water into his face and gazed back at his reflection.
"Cardinal Syn," he said.
Energy fluctuations. Realities' fabrics; stitching together.
He shook his head. "Where the hell did that come from?"
The last hero for humanity.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
He wasn't going mad.
He wasn't.
The phone rang and he jumped.
He headed out of the washroom and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
A voice that sounded like rusting metal : "Wanna work for the Chronozon?"
A chill ran down his spine. "Wh- what?"
It was his friend Phil. "Tom? Tom, you okay?"
"Yeah," Tom replied. "Yeah, I'm sorry."
"Listen, Tom, I still hate you for what you did to Daisy."
You and me both, bud.
"But I got you a job, Tom," Phil continued. "You still drive right? You haven't lost your license too, have you?"
Tom felt like throwing the phone from him. Instead, he remembered his dwindling savings. "Y-yeah. I can still drive."
"Good, I got you a job at Joe's Taxi. You be there at four today or you don't be there at all."
"Geez, uh, thanks, Phil. I-"
Phil hung up, and a dialtone speared itself into Tom's brain.


II

Rick Jones didn't quite understand what was going on.
Well, actually, his brain did kick in and told him exactly what was going on.
But then the logic part of his brain - the part that told him that up was always up; women couldn't make any sense, you're just lying to yourself; and why try? - kicked in and suddenly things didn't make sense anymore.
People just didn't pop out of black holes. And the big black birds that accompany them can't be that big. Christ, that thing was a big as a car.
Okay, Rick, calm down. Recap; yeah, good idea, Rick, a recap would be nice. You're eighteen years old - old enough to be tried as an adult for drinking as a minor - and you're on the subway coming home from -
Where, again? No, not important. Focus.
It was late at night and he had been alone on the train. There was a strange quiet to the air, and there seemed to suddenly be a rip in the space across from him. The portal had opened, a void, or an entrance (exit, perhaps?), darker than anything Rick had ever seen.
The man had toppled out, followed by a huge black bird, and the portal had shut.
And there he lay, in front of Rick, a thin pale man, seemingly unconcious.
The black bird seemed hurt. Maybe wounded.
So? Rick, wake up; it shouldn't even exist. It should consider itself lucky to even be injured.
"Shit," Rick said.
"Deep," the bird said, making Rick's logic device fizzle even further. "Deep shit. Horrible depths of feces."
"Uh..." Rick said.
"Help," the bird offered. "We need help."
On the floor, the pale man shifted. "Introductions first," he said, slowly getting to his feet. "Oh," he said, seeing Rick. "It's a human."
"'Fraid so," Rick said. He had never been good in strange situations. A large piece of him kept wanting to run.
And run far away.
But they need help, he told himself.
Logic again : They don't exist! You're just crazy!
The man brushed dust off his dark clothes and bowed to Rick. "I am the Prince Dezzier Mezucard. At least, that was my name last time I possessed consciousness. My companion here calls herself Porter. We require your assistance."
"I'm Rick Jones. What do you require assistance with?" Rick asked.
"We're being pursued," Mezucard said. "Demonic beasts have chased us from our own world through the Abyssal Darkness, through the Forests of Time, and through the Spacial Powers. The Dark Mistress seeks my soul."
Too much?
Take the information, filter through the brain, piece together.
In context, it made sense. Sort of.
Logic : You're still crazy.
"Uh, yeah," Rick said. "How can I help?"
The Prince seemed exhausted and unhappy. "My land has been overrun by the Chronozon forces. The Dark Mistress detected my presence. She sent assassins. I noticed the energy fluctuations between our worlds and fled here. I have reason to believe there is a man who can help us, but it will be a long way, and I do not know this world."
Logic fizzled and gave up. No matter : Rick didn't enjoy knowing the details anyways. "Er, yeah," he said. "And who is this man?"
"Cardinal Syn," the man replied. "He is but a human like yourself, but they say he can fight the demonic hordes. And win. I have some power and can protect ourselves, but only for a short while, and I will need your guidance to get to here."
He handed Rick a small polaroid of a small, worn down store.
"I know this place," Rick said. "The Joke and Magic shop. Ran by a crazy Southern guy."
"The Colonel," the Prince said, relieved. "Good. He's still alive."
"What?" Rick asked.
The black bird glanced about. "Where are we?"

III


The demon - for that is what mankind named such creatures - ran. It tore along the wooden floors beneath the creaking rafters above; it fled through the abandoned church, tearing the suit and tie from it's mutable body. Already its eyes were turning red. Already spikes were issuing from its back.
The clothes had been to help it impersonate the humans, to prey upon them.
Humans weren't supposed to strike back.
It rushed through the church, knocking pews aside, bellowing and trying to ignore the bleeding wound in its side.
The human landed in front of its path. He was a tall man with long white hair, shimmering spectacles, a wide-brimmed red hat and a flowing scarlet cloak.
He carried a massive gun.
"Only a lil' bite," the demon hissed. "That was all. Get out of my way."
To its left, a younger male human crouched, blue hair over blue eyes. "She was just a little girl, you sick shit."
The demon snarled. "You're both dead. I'll-"
The gun fired. The demon's head exploded, ichor spraying over the pews. The body collapsed.
Cardinal Syn lowered the smoking gun.
Nate ran a hand through his blue hair and stepped towards the corpse. "Sad that demon blood's gotta defile a church, huh?"
Syn's voice was grim. "No. God left this place long ago."
Nate lifted an eyebrow. "I thought God was everywhere."
"Then why are people hurt by evil?" Syn asked.
"I thought that was why you're here," Nate said.
Syn didn't reply.
Nate sat down in a decrepit pew and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. "This sucks, Syn. The Woman from Dark River sent us here to find Tom Pilate. We see him in one of those, uh-"
"Taxies," Syn said.
"Taxies, yeah," Nate said. "Then we take off after this asshole demon and the little girl's already dead!
"We weren't fast enough," Syn said. The light shone down from the rafters above and reflected off his glasses. His face was twin orbs of light in the darkness. "Our loss of Pilate's trail was punishment for our sin."
"Retroactive penance, huh?" Nate asked. "Sounds complicated to me."
Syn began to move for the doors. "Regardless, be wary. This is a city of sinners in a world of sinners."
"Looks like I'll fit in right away, huh?" Nate asked, grinning.
Syn didn't reply, and started for the two delapidated doors.
Nate snorted. "Geez, what a stiff."
He hurried to catch up.

IV

God, Tom thought, his back aching. Life is hell.
He managed to get into his apartment five steps before he saw the notice of foreclosure. He made another five steps before he decided to take the garbage out.
It was night already and Tom wanted to gaze up at the moon. Its face was hidden by clouds and streetlight. Dejected, he staggered down the creaking fire escape to the alley below, a sorry bag of filth in his hand.
She came then, a beauty of hideousness, forming out the darkness in the alleyway. She was taller than he, and thin as a wraith. Tiny, voidlike eyes were socketed in her skull, and long white hair grew from it. Her fingers were too long, almost claw-like, and a flowing, ethereal white dress covered a body horribly too thin.
Tears came to Tom's eyes. "Nooo..."
She took a step towards him, the dress swirling about her. "Tom Pilate," she said. "Correct? That is your name, is it not?"
She grinned a smile too wide, as if she already knew the answer.
"I'm going insane," he said, backing away.
"Insanity? Perhaps. Definately," she said, a white tongue slithering out to slime across her lips. "I am the Dark Mistress, a Scholar of the Ninth Circle. And you are Tom Pilate, dearie, yes."
She lifted from the ground, and hung there, in the air. "Come closer, my pet," she said. "Let me tell you the wonders of the Chronozon."
Tom hesitated.
Then moved closer.
The darkness enveloped him.

V

Rick never truly felt comfortable walking along the city streets at night. There was something about the glimmer of the streetlamps in the corner of his eyes and the way that the tall towers on his sides closes in that made him feel very small. Very afraid. He wasn't afraid of the gangs and muggers so much as he was afraid of what lay beyond every shadow, every doubt. Of what he would find once he pulled back the dark veil of reality and stared at the madness beyond.
Of course, his two new friends didn't help the situation as much as it should've. The Prince, his ragged dark clothes clinging close to his dead-looking body, kept close to the huge black bird, who, for her part, kept mostly silent.
"Is it much farther?" the Prince asked.
"Not really," Rick said, stepping over strewn garbage. "But seriously, I doubt it's open."
"It will open for us," the Prince said.
The Joke and Magic shop was a building apart. Whereas the two buildings squashed against it glimmered with newness and shine, the Joke and Magic shop was a squat, strangely designed split-level home that seemed to be older than the city itself. Rick enjoyed walking by it at times. It seemed outside of the city, almost in a world of it's own.
"Here we are," Rick said, walking up to it, staring at the large 'CLOSED' sign that hung in the window. "And like I said. Closed. Sorry."
"He is here," the Prince said, staring at the store with his dark eyes.
The pale man stepped forward and lightly touched the door. There was the small sound of the lock slipping open, and the door creaked inwards into the dusty store.
"Wow," Rick said.
They moved inside.
Rick always enjoyed being in the Joke and Magic shop, as it seemed so different from the rest of the city. Strange dolls and toys hung from the ceiling, including a strange looking chandelier. Upon multitudes of dusty shelves sat strange and exotic objects, such as a glass sphere with a unicorn within that seemed to move when one watched out of the corner of their eyes.
"Do you guys know a Tom Pilate?" Rick asked.
"Who?" the Prince asked, turning slightly.
"Tom Pilate," Rick said. "Sometimes he comes into the coffee house where I work. He mutters things sometimes, like 'world powers' and 'energy fluctuations'. Geez, what a guy. He's got some issues. You want to see demons, take a look into that guy's eyes."
A pile of clothing at the front of the store seemed to spring upwards, revealing a short bearded elderly gentleman in a perfectly starched white suit. "I say, boy, speaking of demons, you ought to see the one heading towards us right now."
The Prince bowed. "Colonel."
The Colonel's eyes widened. "Well, bless me, boy, it's the Dead Prince. To what do I owe, I say, what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
The Prince smiled. "I have heard that you possess a way to see Queen Mab. She owes me a favor and I require one."
"Then the evil spectre headin' towards us would be on account of your presence, would it not?" the Colonel asked. "Well, anything for royalty. Follow me."
The Colonel turned and passed through a red curtain that hung at the back of the store.
The Prince followed, accompanied by the huge bird.
"You're dead?" Rick asked, following.
"Undead," the Prince said. "I travel from mortal body to mortal body."
There was a ear-splitting scream from outside the store and Rick could hear powerful wings beating and terrible claws scratching at the window.
"Hurry," the bird said, and then they were beyond the red curtain.
It was if they had stepped into another building, another place. They had stepped into a small wooden hut, furnished with all the comforts of life, and Rick thought he could see beautiful fields beneath gorgeous moonlight beyond a window.
Logic again : Impossible.
The Colonel was fiddling with a small pot, and poured red dust into his hand. "The Faerie Queen will not be, I say, she will not be happy to see me again."
"I doubt she will be happy to see me either," the Prince said. "But it must be done, if I am to stay alive long enough to meet the Woman from Dark River."
"Where are we?" Rick asked.
"It does not matter," the Colonel said. "We are about to leave this place."
The Colonel threw the red dust into the air, and then reality began to shift... began to change.
Rick felt himself fall into nothing.

VI

-Where am I?
Quiet, Tom Pilate... all will be revealed... shortly...
-No. Now. Where am I?
Somewhere in Jamaica, my dearie, my darling...
-Why can't I feel my body?
Because we're tearing it from you, my dove. Making you into nothing but darkness...
-Why?
Because there is so much darkness within you, my love. So much.
-Why are we in Jamaica?
I have been told the whereabouts of one of my... enemies... I must deal with him.

From the shadows upon the dark streets of a Jamaican village, the Dark Mistress emerged. Shadows uncoiled about her body like tentacles, and she floated above the straw-strewn road.
Nearby a bar was filled with partying villagers, celebrating life. Only one man remained outside beneath the moonlight, a dark-skinned man who leaned against the bar wall in ragged clothes.
The Dark Mistress floated out towards him, and what remained of Tom Pilate's humanity followed her.
"You there, my pretty," the Dark Mistress said, and the dark-skinned man raised his head. "You are the Monster that walks in the guise of Man, are you not?"
The man smirked. "It's been a long time since someone referred to me as that, Scholar. Nowadays all they know of me is Bela Lugosi, Gary Oldman, Tom Cruise."
He slowly got to his feet, shakily. "Heh. They see my kind as nothing but angst-filled, unhappy creatures, contending with their lost humanity. Hah!"
He shook his head. "I don't know when it was that they humanized us, really. When they made us out to be more than what we were."
The Dark Mistress smiled. "You are to do as I command."
The man stared at her, then threw his head back and laughed. "You command me nothing, Scholar. I was around before their Christ. I was around when demons were considered nothing more than just another threat in the dark. I was around when our kind were viewed as more than just a blood-sucking vampire. I owe nothing to ilk of demons."
For an instant, fury flashed across the Dark Mistress's face. "You stupid, weak, pathetic fool!"
She came at him then, her claws outstretched, slashing downwards.
He moved then, like blue lightning, and went to strike.
She barely glanced the attack away, and as she did, she felt his power, and landed on the street, in awe. "What power..."
The vampire stood, a monster within the body of a man.
The vampire - blood-sucking deities.
The vampire - mutable creatures of the night.
They say before humanity arrived in the universe, that the vampires were simply gaseous beings, but that sometimes took the shape of animals in order to infilterate the herds.
Now they infilterated human society.
There were few of them, as and far as anyone knew, they were immortal.
"L- let's make a deal," the Dark Mistress said. "The rewards of the Chronozon are vast."
"Perhaps," the vampire said. "I'll listen and I'll make my judgement."

VII

When Rick came to, he found himself in a strange looking graveyard, upon a gray hill. Above him were rolling, thundering clouds that moved across the sky in a steady speed.
The Prince and the bird were with him, as well as the Colonel, standing among the tombstones.
At the top of the hill were several cloaked beings, the robes flowing in the wind, and in the center of them was a strange, androngynous woman, with pointed ears, in a thin red dress.
"Strange visitors," the Faerie Queen said, and as she spoke, the world around them contorted and shifted, as if it was not stable at all. "A human, a ghost, a bird and the Colonel. What should I do with such visitors? Feed them to the World Crabs? Turn them insane and release them into delirium forever? Or perhaps leave them in Limbo forever."
The Prince bowed. "Queen Mab. Eons ago you loved a mortal."
The Faerie Queen hesitated. "Perhaps. I love many."
The Prince nodded. "Ah yes, but this mortal you could not obtain by yourself. He was too impetuous. Too powerful. Too unbelieving."
"I remember," the Queen said, softly.
"I tamed him," the Prince said. "I delivered him to you. You owe me a favor. I am in need of collecting that favor."
"Yes," the Queen said. "I suppose I may grant you this wish."
The Prince nodded. "I need protection. I require that I may be taken to Cardinal Syn, the Last Hero for Humanity, so that I may negotiate his service."
The Queen smiled. "Of course. It will be done."
"With my party coming with me, of course," the Prince said.
"Yes," the Queen said, with a thin smile. "But the wishes granted by the Faerie are always bittersweet. You will be in danger when you arrive there."
"Yes," the Prince said.
The entire world around Rick began to rock and twist. To his horror, the sky seemed to cleave in half, and darkness poured in.
He tried to scream, but found he couldn't, and watched with strange fascination that the darkness seemed to encompass him, seemed to close in on him.
He was in a small hotel room, unlit, and through the window he could see the city, lit up.
Around him was the Prince, the Colonel and the bird.
Also with him were two men.
One in a crimson cloak and hat. The other younger, with hair the strange color of blue.
The Prince turned and bowed. "Cardinal Syn, he said."
Cardinal Syn regarded him grimly. "What was it that brought you here?" he asked. "Witchcraft?"
"Of a sort," the Prince said. "Dealing with fae. But I need to reach the Woman from Dark River, and I am pursued by minions of the Chronozon. I need protection."
"The Chronozon?" Cardinal Syn said. "Demons?"
"Shit," Nate said, standing up and drawing a long knife. "This guy's just oozing eldritch sorcery."
Rick backed up. "Hey, whoa, what is this?"
"Quiet, I say, quiet, Rick, m'boy," the Colonel said. "Get down and out of the way. I can, I say, I can feel trouble approaching."
"He's right," the bird said. "A vampire."
"Dammit!" Nate snapped. "I hate the undead."
Cardinal Syn stood and drew his gun, just as there was a knock on the door.
The Prince held out his hands. "Listen, I need to see the Woman from Dark River. The fate of humanity may depend upon it."
There was another knock on the door.
"No, you listen to us," Nate said. "You barge in on our inn room-"
"Hotel," Syn corrected.
"Hotel, whatever!" Nate snapped. "And then you expect us to take you to her?! No way! I swore my life to defend her and I'm not letting some undead asshole threaten that!"
Mist began to pour in through the keyslot of the door.
"Get behind me," the Colonel said, brandishing a cane and stepping in front of the Dark Prince and Rick.
The huge bird puffed up, tried to seem intimidating.
Fear was in its eyes.
"What th-?" Nate said, drawing another knife.
"A vampire," Syn said, stepping into the center of the small room.
The mist began to pile in on itself, form into the body of a man.
The vampire was dressed in a fine black suit, and in the middle of his fingers was a long, elegant cigarette. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"
Syn cocked his head. "You are an unholy spawn of Satan. You are an abomination in the eyes of God and must be liquidated."
The vampire laughed. "How do you know what God thinks? Besides, the entire premise of a gun-wielding cardinal is ludicrous. A wandering, demon-hunting man of the cloth, huh? The Vatican should be so lucky. No, I think your past is probably much darker than your contemporaries realize."
There was a change in Syn's expression, but only for a moment.
"Besides," the vampire said, pointing at the Prince. "I am here for him."
"Under whose request?" the Colonel asked.
"The Chronozon's," the vampire said, sniffing. "I figure, what the hey, they're offering me a couple centuries worth of virgin blood for a simple hit. I could use a vacation."
The vampire burst into shadow and struck forwards, quicker than the eye could follow, and grabbed the Prince.
The vampire wrenched the prince and fangs formed out of the shadow, moving to sink into the dead man's flesh.
A gunshot in a small room sounds even louder than ear-shattering, and Rick had to clamp his hands over his ears to keep himself from screaming.
The vampire burst into small pieces and scattered across the room.
The bullet continued and shattered the balcony doors, echoing out into the city night.
"Holy shit," Rick said.
Cardinal Syn lowered his smoking gun and watched the pieces of the vampire slowly twitch and meld together.
The vampire slowly stood up, his body rebuilding itself. "Those are some bullets you have there."
"Hollow point," Syn said. "Filled with holy water."
"No," the vampire said. "It's inertia. Physics. Packs a punch."
Vampires are not human. They are creatures with human, perhaps above human intelligence. Humans have words for these things, these inhuman beings that stalk our night.
Monsters.
The vampire moved fast, and smashed into Syn, sending the man flying back, and crashing into the wall of the room.
"Damn," Nate said. "That was the first time I've seen anyone land a hit on that guy."
Nate was fast. He was trained. He swung the knives out with expert speed and precision.
The vampire knocked both knives away and, with a laugh, sent Nate sprawling away.
Rick scrambled around the room, looking for a weapon.
"Don't bother," the vampire said, throwing the Colonel to the side. "Most of what you heard about vampires isn't very right. I mean, think about it. Why the hell would running water stop me? How?"
"Beats me," Rick said. "What about silver?"
"I don't know," the vampire said, grabbing the bird's head and twisting it. "Why don't you give it a try?"
The Prince gave a cry of distress as his avian friend fell.
The vampire advanced on him.
And Syn grabbed the monster, and put a sword through his chest.
"Nice," the vampire smirked and swung back.
Syn dodged it, crimson lighting, and crashed into the monster, throwing them both out through the hole in the window and onto the balcony.
The vampire fell on his back.
Syn stood and drew two gun.
He emptied both into the vampire.
Bullet after bullet, crashing into the vampire's strange body, splattering strange shadowy blood and pieces across the balcony, until the balcony was a twisted, ripped, wrenched pathetic thing, and the vampire was a mess across it.
Forming back together.
"Not quite enough, you charmer," the vampire said, grabbing Syn's leg.
Syn brought his foot down on the balcony, and the thing crumpled, sending both of the fighters through the air, falling beside the buildings, towards the street below.
Syn grappled the vampire as they fell, slicing at him with the sword.
The vampire clawed at Syn, punched, bit.
Syn wrenched himself away from the monster, the wind flapping around him, and plunged the sword into the side of the building.
Sparks exploded around him as he slowed his descent.
The vampire crashed into the street below, pieces of the road flying upwards and blood spewing towards the sky.
Syn slowly came to a landing on street level, and began to walk towards the vampire.
From his cloak a bazooka fell into his hands.
The vampire crawled from the crater to his feet. "I must say, friend, you do earn your reputation. I haven't had this much fun in quite a while."
"Damnation lies behind you, vampire," Syn said. "Damnation lies before you."
He fired the bazooka.
The rocket struck the vampire the chest and the explosion splattered him across the street.
Syn dropped the bazooka and continued forwards.
He drew a shotgun.
The vampire came together, grinning at Syn. "Tell me, babe. Was it the Vatican that trained you to fight?"
Syn fired the shotgun.
A television-sized hole burst in the vampire's chest.
The vampire stumbled back, the hole reforming. He laughed. "Or was it somewhere else."
Syn fired again.
This time, the shot passed through the vampire's chest as if it were only shadow. At Syn's expression, the vampire laughed. "Oh? So you don't know how vampires fight."
The vampire began to twist and change, becoming darkness, becoming shadow.
Bats struck at Syn, buffetted him.
The vampire appeared out of nowhere, taking a bite out of Syn's shoulder.
Syn gritted his teeth and rolled away, and the vampire burst out of the shadows and struck at him, sending Syn sprawling.
The vampire formed out of mist and shadow and brushed down his elegant suit. "Not quite, enough, hm? Such as it is, you are only human. One with perhaps even a darker past than I, if the rumors are true."
"If the rumors are true," Syn said, standing and drawing a sword from his cloak. This sword was unlike his others, darker and stranger. "Then you know who you are truly dealing with."
The vampire laughed and blurred.
Syn parried and countered, slicing off the vampire's hand.
The speed of Syn's attack surprised the vampire. "No wa-"
Syn cut off his head.
The head rolled across the street. "-y. No fucking way."
Syn sliced again and again, separating the vampire's body into pieces.
As the vampire began to reform, Syn stooped and picked up the head.
"You're dead," the vampire said.
"Perhaps you can one day walk in God's light," Syn said. "Until then..."
He threw the head as hard as he could, which was considerable.
Syn lifted his shotgun and picked the head out of the air, splattering it into pieces that flew far from each other.
Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a vial of holy water and poured it upon his wound.
Then he turned.
The Prince, Rick, the Colonel and Nate were standing on the street. In the distance they could hear sirens, and many people were staring out their windows at them.
The Colonel nodded. "I have, I say, I have word for you, Mister Syn."
"Cardinal Syn," Syn said.
The Colonel shrugged. "Of course. I have felt the presence of Tom Pilate disappear from this world. He has returned to the Chronozon."
"We're too late," Nate said, gritting his teeth. "We're gonna have to return to the Woman empty handed."
"Not empty handed," the Prince said. "You have myself. I need to speak with the Woman if humanity is to be saved from the Chronozon."
"Excuse me?" Rick asked.
"Yes?" the Prince asked.
"I'm sorry, but I find this all terribly fascinating," Rick said. "And I think I'm gonna have to come with you."
They exchanged glances.
Nate shrugged. "What ever, if he can handle a sword."
"Well, then," the Prince said. "Shall we return?"
"To another adventure," Nate sighed. "When am I gonna get a woman?"
The Prince smiled and opened a portal.
And beyond, instead of darkness, Rick saw hope.

VIII

Tom Pilate only saw darkness.
And he loved it.