Jack shuddered. He could feel the animosity from Alfred a mile away. Why? He didn’t know. But the more he stayed at the Australian MBP, the more agitated the man in black who walked beside him became. Though Jack couldn’t confirm his suspicions just yet.
‘Tsk,’ Alfred tutted all of a sudden as he opened another, mundane door in the metallic corridor.
That sealed it. Now came the question of why. The upcoming mission could be the reason. Something about retrieving the mage must have dissatisfied Alfred. From what Jack recalled, the woman was overconfident, manipulative and with no distinguishing features barring her disfigured face and balding, white hair. Not that he cared too much (the fact he survived the mission made him content. All he wanted to do was live and to serve the man-boy who gave him strength).
However, with the malicious glances he received from his compatriot, Jack being Eurasian came to mind and, in hindsight, the more probable answer. Why would any sane man trust someone from the enemy faction? Then again, Bastion wasn’t sane. The fact became worse when AAA’s king took a liking to Jack of all people. Something that would make any devout follower jealous.
‘Where are we headed to?’ Jack asked a question he already knew the answer to.
‘The king has instructed me to lead you to the ship,’ Alfred proceeded to grumble.
‘Is it the same one I came in?’
Alfred paused for a moment, took out a card and swiped it against a strange green line on the wall. The next door opened a whole new change of scenery. Instead of the metallic walls, a wide stream welcomed the pair as it flowed through rocky terrain. The gushing of the water soothed the butler, but only for a moment as he stormed out.
Jack followed suit; a bit peeved by the lack of response from the man. Though he understood what Alfred went through. Working with the crazy would always wear down on you until a certain action makes you snap. That’s what drives you to get your first few kills, Jack imagined the blood dripping from his hands before a smirk crept up upon himself.
‘We’re here,’ Alfred informed.
‘Uh-huh,’ Jack broke his delusion. He looked ahead to find a massive, wooden ship. Several oars slotted outside holes on the side and a reptilian head adorned the front. ‘That’s the ship?’
‘Follow me,’ Alfred ignored the question.
Better serious and focused than stupid and aloof, Jack didn’t take any offence by the man’s action. He had no reason to do so anyway. Instead, he obeyed as instructed. They climbed a plank towards the deck where several mages worked on preparations such as cleaning the floors, hoisting a mast and filling oil into vases for future use. A few of the four-armed mages even came in to deliver food supplies.
‘The captain is down below. Bottom floor,’ Alfred gritted his teeth. ‘Go and meet him.’
‘What about you?’
‘I need to go back to the king. My job here is done.’
‘Understood,’ Jack nodded.
Something about Alfred’s loyalty and no-nonsense-attitude brought about his admiration. Maybe the desire to have such a capable ally in his life brought about that reaction. Everyone else Jack worked with failed in that regard. The same feeling also made him hesitant to walk down the steps to the lower levels of the boat. Please tell me “The Captain” is competent, he wished as he took his first steps. Though he didn’t like his prospects.
A lump formed in Jack’s throat for the first thing he noticed was the complete darkness. No lights were lit below and, accompanied by the already dim cavern lights, nothing entered from above. It brought back unwanted memories, first in Egypt then on the ship with all the other animals, the latter forcing his nostrils to close shut. His body hair stood on end. His heart raced. He just wanted to go back already. The squeaking of the stairs didn’t help either. But, just like the other two instances, something beckoned him to keep going forward. He needed to see the captain! Be the companion you never had! he consoled himself.
All of a sudden, a dozen candles lit up in a circle in the centre of the room. They surrounded a chair, illuminating it in its entirety and revealing a menacing man sitting on the furniture. He was lanky and pale with no distinctive features except for a strange, soft piece of clothing that split in two in the centre via a mesh of two metallic, serrated strips. However, what surprised Jack most was a stone mask he wore on his face, complete with fangs carved on it.
The man looked up. He tilted his head and stared right at Jack. Then he lifted his arm, placing his hands on the mask for a good few seconds, before taking it off. Some smoke obscured the face, but it subsided, revealing the man…boy.
‘You thought you were seeing the captain of this ship, but it was I, Bastion!’ the king exclaimed, pointing to his face with his thumb.
‘What?’ Jack rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
Bastion jumped off the shoulders of the, now headless, adult body. He smirked the whole while as he made his way towards Jack.
‘Sir, what are you doing here?’
‘Can’t I see off two of my faves, Jackie boi?’
‘I don’t understand. What do you mean by two?’ Jack asked, still bewildered and wondering if the darkness swallowed his sanity once again.
‘Good grief,’ a new, muffled voice echoed from the chair.
‘AHAHAHAHA,’ Bastion squealed in the only way a child would squeal. ‘He actually said it!’
‘Said what?’ the voice questioned. Jack now realised it came from the headless body on the chair.
‘He doesn’t even know what he referenced,’ Bastion burst out in laughter once more. ‘This is why you’re my favourite, Skilshar!’
Skilshar?
The body moved. It stood up quicker than natural and walked over the candles as if it knew where they lay. Is that new type of mage that doesn’t need a brain or eyes? Jack wondered as he watched it (he?) go to the sides and light torches.
When Skilshar lit the last light, he revealed the insides of the boat. To Jack’s surprise, not a single stain or spot could be found in the empty area. Yes, he noticed pieces of wood, dirt and other mundane specks but, compared to the blood, urine and faeces of the boat he came in, this felt like his peaceful desires manifested into a reality. The only thing out of place was the staircase in the corner that led deeper into the boat.
‘You are allowed to come out now,’ Bastion cooed.
‘Ah, thought we were still doing the joke,’ the headless body gave a muffled reply. ‘One sec.’
Without warning, the clothes began to rustle. The metal in the middle began to split into two and out popped a head from the headless body. Jack wasn’t sure if the person was a man or woman. The hair hanged at shoulder height with one bang in particular cover the whole of his right eye; not the mention his/her complexion had no colour except for pure white. Skilshar then melded the metal together again and pulled the clothing over his head.
‘All done, sir,’ he announced in a deep, broken English, confirming his gender. ‘Also, it’s nice to meet you, Jackie boi.’
‘My name’s Jack,’ he murmured. ‘Darius Jack.’
‘Ugh, of course there’s a misunderstanding straight away,’ Skilshar sulked back into his headcloth.
Jack looked over at Bastion to find him trying his best to contain his laughter. Off to a great start, he shook his head at this thought. Though he didn’t blame it on the man but on the probable influence from a certain king.
‘No problem,’ Jack assured, thinking of a good change of topic. ‘So, what exactly do you do?’
‘Oh, oh! Show him your abilities!’ Bastion jumped up and down in delight.
‘My abilities, huh? Understood.’
Skilshar stepped to one side. He looked up and took a deep breath. The room became silent except for the footsteps of the workers above. Bastion waited in anticipation, Jack looked on in confusion and Skilshar narrowed his eyes in utmost concentration. Then, with one single blast of air, he blew. The bang that covered one eye shifted and now covered the other.
‘Ta-da,’ Skilshar acted proud of his feat.
Bastion collapsed to the floor. He rolled around in a moment of hysteria, unable to stop his laughter. Jack, on the other hand, crumpled his face, trying to comprehend what or why Skilshar did what he did.
‘Oh, you meant my powers?’ Shilshar realised his mistake when Bastion calmed down.
‘Yeah,’ Jack decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
‘Well, let’s see. I can make people’s joints hurt. Like making them really uncomfortable. Especially the back. Wait, that doesn’t sound that strong, um,’ Skilshar explained. However, when he noticed Jack looking more and more unimpressed, he added a blurted, ‘Oh, I can also make people see things and then stop them seeing those things too!’
Great. I’m working with an illusionist who can create backaches. Why always me? Jack already regretted taking up the mission. ‘Right…’
‘It’s hard to explain,’ Skilshar retreated further into his headpiece before murmuring, ‘Just end me now.’
‘Pfft. I love you both. Almost as much as the old manush,’ Bastion got up, wiping a tear off his face. Then he turned serious. ‘Speaking of which…’
A chill descended in the room. The atmosphere felt heavy. The expression Bastion wasn’t that of a child. No, he displayed a piercing glare of an old-but-hardened man that made everyone else look like babies.
As if the ship was collapsing below them, Jack braced for a fall. Yet, he didn’t. He looked up to find himself kneeling in front of the king. Only one reason explained his position; only one emotion.
Fear.
‘Yes, sire?’ a sudden formality came out of Jack’s mouth.
‘You two better get me that mage who knows the manush,’ Bastion started, each word as threatening as his look.
‘Yes, sire,’ Jack obeyed.
‘Got it,’ Skilshar agreed.
Bastion stepped forwards until he reached Jack, close enough to whisper in his ear, ‘I will not tolerate failure. Even if you are one of my favourites.’
‘Yes, sire,’ Jack echoed the same words once again.
‘Good. That settles it,’ Bastion withdrew from his position. ‘Anywho, the plan is that you guys first head off to Kenya, join their navy then go fight the goodie-baddie Eurasians until you retrieve our target. Bish. Bash. Bosh. I’m happy. Job done. Kapeesh?’
Jack didn’t understand what “kapeesh” meant, so he just nodded and said a monotone, ‘Yes, sire.’
‘My King!’ a loud voice beckoned from above all of a sudden, followed by heavy, quick footsteps.
‘Ah, Alfred! What a coincidence,’ Bastion flipped a switch that turned him back to his enthusiastic, child-like state again.
‘Sire, you shouldn’t be here. I thought you said you were waiting back in the facility.’
‘I lied. Get over it,’ Bastion shrugged. ‘I was just telling Skilshar and Jackie boi about their instructions anyway. No harm done.’
‘Sire, if I may talk to you for a moment about that,’ Alfred pleaded, bowing down as he did so. ‘I haven’t said anything since you first mentioned it, but now I fear it’ll be too late.’
‘Ugh. Enough with the drivel. Just spit it out.’
‘I am against this mission,’ Alfred gave a prompt answer.
‘This is important to me. That should be enough reason for you,’ Bastion waved off the concerns.
‘Unfortunately, it is not, sire. Not this time,’ Alfred pursed his lips.
‘Excuse me?’
The air felt so thin that Jack could almost cut it with his claws. He braced for the king’s switch to flip again. He never got from his kneeling position in the first place. But now, he wanted to grovel for a sin he had not committed. How is no one else affected?! his mouth went agape when he saw Skilshar and Alfred standing firm. The silence only broke when Bastion sighed and returned to being a happy, cheeky boy.
‘I understand where you’re coming from but I haven’t seen a manush for over a thousand years. Not since my adulterer of a mother and bastard puppet of a father decided to kill them all. King of Britannia my arse! Point is, I really want to see one again. Then maybe,’ Bastion coughed forced coughs while saying, ‘breed them so that I get more.’
‘But if we lose heavily, it might put you in risk from invasion for at least hundred years as we try to breed our forces to full strength again,’ Bastion raised a valid concern.
But Bastion laughed. He laughed and laughed until it became awkward to try and talk over him.
‘Oh, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred,’ he spoke at last. ‘A hundred years? Why are you looking that far into the future?’
‘I don’t understand, sire.’
‘Look at it this way. I’ve lived for one-million-seventy-six-thousand-and-forty-six days on this God-forsaken Earth. I remember everything I’ve seen or heard since day one. I was raised to fit this role of mine the moment I was placed in a test tube. I stopped ageing at the age of twelve. I’ve witnessed the rise and fall of manush technology followed by the rise of magikind. I’ve lost so much and gained so little. However, despite all the b******* I’ve been through, what guarantee will I have to live a one-million-seventy-six-thousand-and-forty-seventh day? Hm?’
‘With all due respect, you are immortal,’ Alfred answered a meek answer.
‘Aha, but that’s the point. I’m still human. And you know what that means? “The problem isn’t that we’re mortal. It’s that we’re suddenly mortal” as the Devil would nicely put it or something like that,’ Bastion continued. But when he the bewildered faces of the audience of three, he turned to Jack. ‘Jackie boi, hold out your hand.’
Jack didn’t understand a word Bastion said. God? Devil? Manush technology? What did he mean by any of that? Even then, the only thing he could do at that moment was to obey his master’s commands.
Without warning, Bastion snatched the hand and yanked it towards his neck. Everyone’s jaws dropped. But Jack didn’t dare resist. The king took control, pushing the nails further and further until spots of blood began seeping from his neck.
‘Sire!’ Alfred begged.
‘Oh, what’s this?’ Bastion let go of Jack’s hand, ignoring the red that trickled down his skin. ‘I thought I can’t die and was free to think about what happens a hundred years in the future.’
‘I-’ Alfred began but stopped straight away. He joined Jack in kneeling, finally understanding what the king meant.
‘And what about you,’ Bastion turned to the captain. ‘Go ahead, Mr. Skilshar, tell me if you got any last-minute complaints.’
Skilshar shook his head.
‘Good. Now let me enjoy the present. I can’t wait to get my hands on a manush,’ Bastion squealed with glee at the thought. ‘Alfred, take me back to my game room. I’m in the mood for Mario Kart.’
‘Yes, sire,’ Alfred uttered a phrase that got repeated too many times that day. He sat the boy onto his shoulders, cleaned his neck with a cloth he kept in his suit and headed towards the stairs.
‘Remember, no Ls allowed!’ Bastion called back to pair that remained.
It didn’t take long for their footsteps to disappear, only to be replaced by the workers’ ones above.
‘Seriously, I just don’t know what to do sometimes,’ Skilshar commented when he was sure they left.
‘Eh?’
Jack just realised the problem that loomed over him. The captain didn’t say a thing during that whole ordeal. Not a single word! He just let it happen without doing anything! This was meant to be a leader? How? That fact combined with the unamusing tricks and awful abilities Skilshar possessed, produced a single, damning thought entered his mind: Why do I always get the incompetent ones?
