Death: The Fall of Endsville

Chapter Ten: The Kingdom of Stance

The midday sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the training yard. Young Color, barely seventeen, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tuning out the droning voice of the head knight as he lectured about "discipline" and "valor." All he heard was the dull thud of his own heartbeat and the distant clanging of swords from another training session.

Color's gaze drifted to the line of trainees standing stiffly at attention beside him, every one of them locked in rapt focus—or at least pretending to be. His eyes settled on one in particular: Edwin, the son of a minor noble, who held himself with an air of inflated self-importance, chin raised, back ramrod straight, and a slight, smug smile plastered on his face.

Color stifled a laugh. Edwin wasn't just smug; he was the type who followed every rule to the letter, reporting every infraction he saw, constantly reminding the other trainees of his father's rank and his "natural superiority." And there he stood, hanging on every word of the head knight's lecture as if he were absorbing the wisdom of the ages.

Color's lips curled into a mischievous grin. Oh, this is too easy, he thought. If he had to stand here listening to this lecture, he might as well make it interesting.

With a glance over his shoulder to ensure none of the knights were watching, Color took a slow, deep breath, feeling the familiar, quiet hum of magic thrumming in his fingertips. He'd been warned about using his powers recklessly, but surely one harmless prank wouldn't hurt.

The air around him stilled as he focused, and with a flick of his wrist, he paused time.

Color strolled over to Edwin, grinning as he reached down and lifted Edwin's right hand, guiding it toward his face with mock solemnity. Carefully, he positioned the trainee's finger right up his own nose, tilting Edwin's head just so to make the pose as ridiculous as possible.

Satisfied with his work, Color stepped back, hands on his hips, admiring his handiwork. He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. Perfect.

With another flick of his wrist, time resumed.

Time resumed, and Color watched as Edwin's face twisted in horror, his own finger lodged right up his nose. Edwin yelped, yanking his hand away as if it had been possessed, while Color's laughter burst out, loud and shameless. He doubled over, barely able to catch his breath, as Edwin frantically tried to wipe his finger on his pristine tunic, his cheeks blazing red.

"Oh, come on, Edwin!" Color gasped between laughs. "You look so natural like that! It's a good look for you!" He gave an exaggerated thumbs-up, which only made a few other trainees chuckle along with him.

Edwin whipped around, glaring daggers at Color, his face contorted with rage. "You! You did this!" he shrieked, pointing a shaky, accusatory finger.

"Who, me?" Color snickered, clutching his sides, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Why, I would never! I've been standing here, humbly soaking up all this noble wisdom." He waved his hand toward the head knight, still laughing as if he'd heard the funniest joke of his life.

The head knight's face darkened as he took in the scene, his sharp gaze snapping to Color. "What's going on here?" he barked, his voice cutting through the laughter like a whip.

"Oh, nothing much, Sir," Color said with an exaggerated bow, barely containing another fit of laughter. "Just Edwin here... picking up a new skill." He broke down into laughter again, his voice echoing around the training yard.

The head knight was not amused. He crossed his arms, looking at Color with that all-too-familiar look of utter disapproval. "You think you're clever, do you, Color?"

"Clever? Me?" Color laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Just trying to liven up the place, Sir. You know, all work and no play and all that..." He made a face, mimicking a yawn. "Didn't want poor Edwin here to get too bored."