Flipped (Super Paper Mario SWAP AU)

Flashback #8

"Pierre?" the child asked as the red-cloaked man walked through the village that once belonged to the Tribe of Ancients. The little kid was holding the executioner's hand so he wouldn't fall behind.

"Yes?"

"Who will tell their story?" the kid asked. "The story of the ancients... and the Tribe of Darkness. Now that they're all gone... who carries those stories on?"

The executioner continued walking forward, unable to answer just yet. He knew it couldn't be him, he didn't know enough about the Tribe of Ancients to carry on their true values and beliefs,  even if he was dressed as one of them. 

He continued walking, past the bodies of countless ancients, including Merlon. It took all his strength not to break down beside his old friend, wishing the world would have taken him instead. Merlon was far more qualified to handle all of this than he ever could be.

He didn't know what to do or who to turn to. All he knew was that he had to protect this kid. 

"That was your friend?" the child asked, noting the way the executioner hesitated briefly as they passed Merlon.

The executioner nodded, keeping his mouth shut. 

The blood surrounding Merlon had dried now. When he first died, he was still warm. The executioner didn't want to go near the ancient and check how cold he was now. Being an executioner, he knew exactly how long it took the body to actually shut down after dying. By then, Merlon was likely cold and stiff.  It always depended on the condition the body was left in, but it could be nothing but bones anywhere from three weeks to several years. A part of him wanted to bury his old friend, putting someone underground was one of the best ways to keep them looking like themselves for longer. Although, it wouldn't matter what he looked like anymore if he was down there. 

And... the executioner didn't have the strength to do anything more for him. All he could do was keep living and holding onto that torn page of the Light Prognosticus.

"I... think we should check my village," the executioner breathed. "To see if we can find more survivors. Is... is that okay with you?"

The child nodded, tightening his grip on the executioner's hand slightly.

"Are you magic? Do you think you could teleport us there?" the little boy asked. "My legs really hurt. They got burned pretty bad."

The executioner nodded. He was good at teleporting.

He waved his hand, only for nothing to happen. It felt like thousands of tiny pins and needles started pricking his body as soon as he tried to use his magic again. 

The cloaked man let out a sigh and lowered his gaze to the little boy.

"I'll carry you," he said. 

The boy nodded as the executioner leaned down, then picked him up, placing him on his shoulders. Many years ago, he used to carry Blumiere the same way, that way he could be tall. Although, from the way things were going, Blumiere probably would have been taller than him eventually. He was getting really close. 

He briefly turned his gaze back to Merlon, then bowed his head.

"Goodbye, my friend," he whispered.

The executioner made sure to be careful as he walked through the forest, back to his home. He took an extra long route, that way he wouldn't have to walk through the meadow where he used to take Blumiere to meet up with Merlon and Timpani. He didn't have the strength to see that place again.

His village hadn't looked any better than the village Merlon lived in. His home was reduced to ashes. He couldn't even go in to grab Blumiere's things. It was all gone.