Previous | Table of Contents | Next
Mr. Skelly stretched his hand out and grabbed the scroll his subordinate was offering him. The blue flames in his eye sockets flared when he recognized the seal belonging to Henry VIII. Did the king fall for it? Did he believe the pope was capable of smiting Tafel? If the pope was that powerful, would he have had to run away from so many peasants? At least, Tafel wouldn’t’ve had to. With a chuckle, Mr. Skelly peeled back the wax seal and unfurled the scroll.
“Tafel’s coming!” Mr. Skelly said after he finished reading the paper. His chuckle turned into a laugh, and a grin broke out on his face. At last, he’d have someone who’d appreciate his jokes and mostly harmless pranks. “But when will she arrive?” He actually had no idea how long it’d take for Tafel to arrive. Theoretically, it’d only take her a single day with a portal, but since a day already passed for the letter to arrive, then there must’ve been something stopping her from directly teleporting to him. Mr. Skelly narrowed his eye sockets and rubbed his chin. He paused and turned around. “Eh?”
The word didn’t even get a chance to leave Mr. Skelly’s mouth before the wall and window exploded. He was thrown across the room from the impact, but his skeletal body remained intact. However, his trusty subordinate wasn’t as lucky. The relatively smart skeleton had been blasted into pieces, its joints so mangled that it would be impossible to put it back together without lots of glue. Mr. Skelly raised his head, trying to see past the dust and powder that had been kicked up. A figure towered over him, and a fierce neigh greeted him.
“I told you to stop! Why’d you jump and kick down the wall!?” The towering figure separated into two, one falling off the other, and the dust cleared away, revealing Tafel and a brown horse. The demon was glaring at the smug horse; it still had traces of wind magic circling its body, especially concentrated around its hooves. “You think you’re great because—oh.” Tafel blinked and turned her head, finally noticing the skeleton staring at her. “Is that you, Mr. Skelly?”
Mr. Skelly saluted. “Yep, it’s me. Long time no see, Tafel!”
Tafel raised an eyebrow. “Are you really sure it’s you? Usually, you’d try to trick someone into believing they were talking to an inanimate skeleton. And then Alice would punch your head off.”
“Well, I’m just happy to see you,” Mr. Skelly said and grinned. “It’s the first time I’ve been able to have an actual conversation with someone. Giving orders to damaged undead and convincing homeless men to sing just don’t feel the same at all.”
“What did you do to homeless men?” Tafel asked and furrowed her brow.
“Let’s not worry about that,” Mr. Skelly said and cleared his nonexistent throat. “More importantly, what are you doing to homeless men?” He gestured towards the man behind Tafel. The man was tied to the horse and lying face down on the floor. His clothes were in tatters, and his hair was sticking in all directions as if he had been thrown through a tornado.
Tafel glanced at the unconscious man behind her. “He’s not homeless. He’s a king.”
Mr. Skelly raised his eyebrows, his eye sockets contorting. “Is that Henry VIII?”
“You recognize him?”
“No, but I figured it was him,” Mr. Skelly said and grinned. “Did you know he was planning on having the pope smite you with the power of God?”
“What?” Tafel narrowed her eyes, but Henry was unconscious and couldn’t see it. “Wait a minute,” Tafel said. “How did you know he was going to do that? This is the headquarters of the church. What are you doing in the place the pope should be?” She looked around, her head swiveling from side to side. “Where’s the pope?”
Mr. Skelly blinked twice, his eye sockets closing and opening. “Why do you sound so concerned about the pope? He ran away when a mob of citizens surrounded the church to demand food after singing.” Mr. Skelly raised a hand. “Before you ask, no, it wasn’t my idea. Due to circumstances not within my control, the pope was forced to flee, and since he left, I decided to warm his seat while he was gone.”
“You’re dead,” Tafel said and rolled her eyes. “You don’t have any body warmth. Let’s not ruin the world too much before we leave, yeah?”
“Right. Let’s not ruin the world.” Mr. Skelly stared at Tafel. Then he stared at her some more. He stared until her face turned pink from a little bit of guilt and hypocrisy blossoming in her chest. After a pregnant pause, Mr. Skelly cleared his throat. “So, have you found anyone else?”
Tafel shook her head. “You’re the first person I’ve found,” she said. “I know where Alice is though; well, I’m pretty sure it’s her.”
“Eh? I barely raised a ruckus, and I’m the first person you found?” Mr. Skelly scratched his head. “Aren’t you slacking?”
“Hey! It’s not my fault,” Tafel said and pursed her lips. “Besides, I think we might not have entered the world at the same time. There’s a legend about a red dragon, but it dates back to a thousand years ago.”
“You think that legend was about Prika?”
Tafel nodded. “I could be wrong, but since I’ve learned about it, I decided to take some aggressive actions. I’m going to conquer the whole world; that way, I’ll find the rest of our companions in no time as long as they’re in the same era as us.”
Mr. Skelly scratched his skull. “And what if they aren’t in the same era as us?”
Tafel bit her lower lip. “If they aren’t in the same era as us, I’ll have to trick Prika’s sister into thinking we’ve all been located. Once she teleports us back, I’ll find Auntie and get her to help us. That’s what adults are for, right? To solve the problems that we can’t?”
“Gyah!” Henry VIII screamed. “What did you do to the pope!? You’ve killed him and turned him into a skeleton!” His eyes widened and rolled upwards, revealing only their whites.
Tafel and Mr. Skelly stared at each other. Mr. Skelly shrugged.