Exclusive New Story: One Last Stand -- A Dialogue

The benevolent overlord poses in a typically benevolent fashion.

Just for fun, I'm releasing a new short story here--this is the ONLY place you can read it (for now). Yes, yes--I know I am a benevolent overlord, and you're very welcome.

One Last Stand: A Dialogue

“You’ve had better ideas.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Both statements can be true, Sister, just as it’s true that there are…let’s see…at least forty

of them out there, by my count.”

“Trolls, Brother—there are forty trolls. It’s not like they’re demons.”

“At least forty.”

“But still trolls, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How many did we kill at Mussenheim?”

“Kill? Perhaps a dozen. Fought off? Twenty-five, thirty tops. Plus, Lodak was with us.”

“And making up for Lodak’s martial shortcomings was the equivalent of fighting at least another dozen trolls.”

“Come now—he was at least a little bit helpful.”

“To our opponents?”

“What about that fireball? That was rather impressive.”

“To the trolls, yes, since it very nearly burned us alive. My eyebrows still haven’t fully recovered.”

“They look as shapely as ever.”

“Perhaps, but undeniably sparser.”

“It’s a good look for you.”

“Most are.”

“They seem to be getting a bit impatient.”

“Well, we have been in here for some time. You’re really dragging your feet.”

“Given that the time we spend in here is likely to constitute the bulk of the remaining balance of our lives, it hasn’t been long enough for my liking.”

“You’ve always been a sentimental fool.”

“I prefer to think of myself as fond of life.”

“Life hasn’t always been fond of you.”

“Nor you.”

“Granted.”

“Quite a ruckus they’re kicking up.”

“Won’t be long before they try to breach.”

“Well, there’s one now—sacrificial lamb.”

“I’ve got him.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“That should buy us a few more minutes, at least. Can’t imagine the sight of that fellow’s head being so graphically split open will encourage anyone to immediately follow in his footsteps.”

“Doubtful.”

“You did get a bit of brain matter on me.”

“I’m not going to apologize.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking.”

“Here’s a cloth.”

“Thank you.”

“Here comes another.”

“Sooner than I expected. May I?”

“By all means.”

“It’s that squelching sound that always gets me, you know?”

“Doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

“No, I don’t suppose it would. Hand me that cloth again, will you?”

“Does it really matter how clean your sword is?”

“No, but yes, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Not unlike life, I suppose.”

“Don’t get deep on me now.”

“I’m not sure I’ll have another chance.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Do you…do you ever wish you’d done it differently?”

“What, like cut his head off instead of splitting it?”

“No, no—not the troll, you twit. It. Life. All of it. Gotten married, settled down, bought a cottage, had a couple of adorable little babies.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Must we?”

“Well, no, we certainly don’t have to. But, it is our last chance.”

“You really don’t think we can kill them all?”

“No.”

“So little faith.”

“Among many shortcomings, yes.”

“I guess a little.”

“Hold on—let me just…there. That’s one more down. I expect they’ll start coming in force soon.”

“Good. Then we can wrap up this conversation.”

“What did you mean by ‘a little?’”

“I don’t know. Nothing, really.”

“Sister.”

“I was…pregnant, once. Briefly.”

“Briefly?”

“I miscarried before it was noticeable.”

“You never told me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“When…when was this?”

“A couple of years ago. When we were in Borkovia.”

“Who was the…or, rather, who would have been the…the…”

“The father?”

“That’s the word I was searching for, yes.”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. Unless…no.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t that elf with the pompadour, was it? The one who said mirrors always thanked him when he walked by?”

“Oh, stop—he wasn’t that bad.”

“He was the worst! He literally brushed his hair in the middle of a tavern while talking about how many sit-ups he does each day.”

“Can we not? Don’t worry about who it was.”

“That child would have had a chin butt!”

“Stop it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Actually…I am. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“It didn’t seem…important for you to know. Because it didn’t get very far, did it?”

“That must have been hard, Sister.”

“I survived.”

“Of course you did, because you’re you. But still…”

“I’ve had better days.”

“I can’t imagine worse.”

“Have you forgotten the two wyverns in that swamp?”

“Gods. No, I haven’t forgotten, and I would give extraordinary sums to erase it from my memory. That was an absolutely awful day, I grant you.”

“Worse than this one?”

“In some ways, yes.”

“How so?”

“We didn’t get to talk much that day.”

“Yes, but we survived.”

“Maybe there’s more to life than survival.”

“I have found survival essential for there to be anything more.”

“When have you felt most alive?”

“Certainly not during this conversation.”

“And here I thought I was being quite the charming tệte-à-tệte partner.”

“As usual, you overestimate your skills.”

“Thank you for reminding me of the rather blunt opinion shared by my most recent lover. My last lover, I suppose.”

“It was the day we left home.”

“Hmm?”

“When I felt most alive. I was terrified. I’ve never admitted that.”

“You? Scared? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Shut up. Terrified, yes, but also…powerful. In control. Like I had turned the page in life and it was just…blank for the first time. There were no words, and I didn’t have to recite lines someone else had written.”

“I remember that day. And I remember the terrified part. But I didn’t feel powerful.”

“Not even a little?”

“No. But I felt safe. Because I was…”

“You were what?”

“I was with you.”

“Why, Brother, do you mean to tell me that your little sister was the one who—”

“Please be quiet and dispatch our latest guest.”

“Gladly.”

“Thank you. I’ve never felt any great sense of confidence in doing, well, anything. I’ve always just sort of…borrowed yours.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have an ample amount.”

“One might argue too much, given that your overabundance of confidence is at least in part to blame for our current circumstances.”

“But not solely.”

“No, not solely. The trolls also bear some responsibility.”

“And you don’t?”

“None that I can think of, save for my poor choice of company.”

“Think hard, dear brother—is there nothing you’ve done that has led us to this moment?”

“I don’t believe there is.”

“Think harder.”

“Well…”

“Yes?”

“I suppose I could take some modicum of responsibility for suggesting that we steal the relic in the first place.”

“Some?”

“Okay, fine, all. Terribly ugly thing, isn’t it?”

“And not even magical, as it turns out.”

“You don’t suppose they’d let us go if we give it back, do you?”

“I know your trollish is poor—you are so dreadfully bad with languages—but based on the threats they’ve been hurling at us for the past ten minutes, no, I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, we all have different talents.”

“No, not for that. For suggesting that we steal the relic.”

“I agreed, didn’t I?”

“And I’m sorry for…”

“For what?”

“Not being better. Not being as much as I could be, I suppose.”

“Don’t go getting all mawkish on me now.”

“I’m not sure how much time I have left to go mawkish, though, you see.”

“You did fine.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. We both did. We charted our own course.”

“I simply drafted on yours.”

“But you chose it, didn’t you? You could have stayed behind. But you didn’t.”

“Because I was more scared to stay than to leave.”

“You still made a choice. And we’ve had a lifetime of adventure.”

“A very short one, yes.”

“Not as long as we might have hoped, I grant you. But that’s the choice we made. Together, as much as you disclaim responsibility for it.”

“No, you’re right. I chose it.”

“Would you make the same choice again?”

“I…yes. I would.”

“Then you did just fine.”

“But I could have been better. I could have been more.”

“You would have felt that way no matter what you did with your life. Don’t you think every single person who has ever been forced to confront imminent mortality has had that exact same thought?”

“Are you feeling that way?”

“No, but I’m exceptional.”

“Right.”

“Watch your back.”

“Got it—thanks.”

“Good form.”

“Thank you. I’ve been working on that pirouette and slash move for a while.”

“It shows.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“What do we do now?”

“Go on the offensive, as I tried to suggest some time ago.”

“But why further hasten our demise?”

“Because fuck them. And because it’s our choice. Not theirs.”

“Never change, dear sister.”

“I won’t.”

“Ready?”

“Follow my lead.”

“I always have.”