Shadows of Elysium: The Laughing King

Chapter 25: Fight Night

Jasper sat on the throne atop the village for all to see. A whetstone ran its way smoothly over steel gauntlets to sharpen the knuckles. Fingers flexed and wiggled to make sure they were still quick on the draw.

The sun finally set over the hill. The pale moon had been out for a while now, casting a glow over the large blade leaning against Jasper's pauldron. A red tint came over the blade, and true night settled in.

The air darkened around the throne. The wide-eyed lunatic materialized on the edge of the landing holding two solid black tomahawks etched with dark-violet symbols that shifted in the moonlight.

The challenger stood there for an eternity. The current champ sat motionless on the throne, chin in hand. Both titans of warfare studying each other for the first move. The first move would dictate the second, and the second the third... and on and on until one of them lay dead.

The air sizzled around Jasper, leaving a burnt out and musky no stinging in his nostrils. A jet black streak of smoke barreled at Jasper's head. He dodged by such a fraction that a lock of hair fell past his cheek, and a tomahawk stuck handle deep in the throne. Temnota dashed right through a perfectly timed straight kick like it didn't exist. The monstrosity stood back to back with Jasper. It put one foot on the royal chair and ripped the axe free.

Jasper turned and caught the solid shadow in the neck with a buck knife. Without a single muscle shifted, the shade's features turned themselves around. Eyes and mouth slid across his head into the opposite of their natural place. Elbows and knee joints broke backwards without a sound or acknowledgment from the owner of said limbs. Tomahawks left black lines of smoke in the path they should have taken to straighten out.

Vile blades swung in a vigorous flurry that human limbs could never hope to match. Jasper gripped Momento-Mori with both hands and expertly blocked every blow. Any scratch had a chance to infect him with the voidling ink that had taken over the townsfolk. Any slight error spelled doom.

Jasper slashed one time, then ran past Temnota and up onto the throne. He kicked off of the seat's back and launched himself the other direction. The maneuver bought Momento-Mori one solid hit.

The shade stumbled to the edge of the platform. With continued momentum, the warrior executed a flawless sweep kick, and Temnota's legs buckled, making him tumble from the pulpit of the throne.

Two axes bit into the edge to keep their master from falling. Instead of dangling from the wood, it swung itself forward into the bottom of the floorboards. A cluster of shadows materialized on the throne, and the shade's cheshire grin stretched wide. Similar to how Jasper had before, Temnota sat with its chin in hand.

They locked eyes again; battling in each other's mind for a play that might work. Jasper let this go for a long time before daring to smile himself and drop down ten feet to the next platform.

He hit the ground running.

Running from the darkness like a child running for the bathroom light at three in the morning. The darker alleyways laughed at his futile attempt. Smiling fangs painted the walls, and clawed limbs grasped playfully at their prey from all shadows. Jasper came to a halt at a small hut and flung the door open. Flame-fly jars and bright white dragon slugs bathed the doorway in light.

The darkness screeched and cowered from the hut. Dozens of clawed limbs fell away and disintegrated in a cone around the door. The room itself had nearly forty jars full of tiny critters and little else.

All was quiet for a long moment, and Jasper began to worry that he had lost Temnota's attention. Then the walls began to bleed star speckled ink. The wooden barrier of the hut split open rapidly from dozens of claw marks. Two axes cleaved holes in the back door. Jagged and splintered holes, big enough for Temnota's eyes to peer blankly into. They lacked any emotion, like the buttons on a sock monkey.