Chapter Text
“Oh, my little Raz’berry, how have you been?”
His father’s voice echoes in his head and Raz’ul stops, because that’s what you do when King Daz’ul talks to you—you freeze and you listen and you hope he’s feeling merciful. Yashee and Randy stop a little bit ahead of him and turn to him, confused, but before he can say anything, King Daz’ul speaks again.
“Answer me, boy,” he demands. “It’s been too long since we’ve talked.” Raz’ul ducks his head, his jaw clenched. He refuses to answer.
He hears Daz’ul slam his staff down on the floor and Raz’ul feels it echo throughout his skull. He falls to his knees, holding his head in pain. He finally looks behind him—
And there’s King Daz’ul of Mount Tain, splendid and ferocious, one hand holding his staff and the other resting on the short sword at his belt. His eyes are as cold as Raz’ul remembered, hard and dark like the rocks in the caves he grew up in.
“How’re you now, lad?” Daz’ul asks. “Feelin’ up to talkin’ to your old man now?”
Raz’ul stands and turns all the way around to properly face his father. He thinks about how he should push his shoulders back and stand up straight, show off how strong he’s become because his friends are here and he’s not the scared little dwarf he once was. But his father fixes him with that stare and his shoulders slump and he looks down at his feet. He feels Daz’ul gaze like a weight, as solid as the axe on his back. Raz’ul tries to speak, tries to tell his father about how he has fought far greater foes than Daz’ul could ever dream of but his voice no longer works. He stands there, the familiar ache of shame settling in his stomach. Daz’ul chuckles and takes a step forward.
“Nothing new, I guess, eh, Raz’berry?” the king says. “Still the same little dwarf you always were. And, eh, speaking of little—who are your friends?”
This finally makes Raz’ul look up. Daz’ul is looking over his son’s shoulder at Yashee and Randy. Raz’ul straightens his spine and spreads his hands slightly, as though he could hide his friends from his father’s sight with just his body. Daz’ul laughs.
“Ah, protective of them, are we? It’s about time you had a spine about something than your silly potpourri.” Raz’ul grits his teeth but says nothing.
“Don’t worry, my boy, I’m not here for them. I’m only here for you.” Raz’ul slowly puts his arms down, now unable to break his gaze away from his father’s. To Raz’ul’s surprise, Daz’ul’s face almost softens. He almost looks sad. He almost fools Raz’ul into feeling sorry for him.
“Why won’t you come home, Raz’berry?” Daz’ul says. “It’s been so long. We can talk about what happened with the axe. It can all be forgiven if you just come home.” Raz’ul feels something akin to hope begin to bloom in his chest. To return home...well, wasn’t that always the plan? To travel, to learn, to prove himself to his father and brothers. And hadn’t he succeeded? Raz’ul had looked a god in the face and survived. He had escaped a crumbling town using his wits and agility. And now he was preparing to face an alien from another dimension. The old Raz’ul would never have survived. He deserved a place in his father’s kingdom. King Daz’ul smiled, as though he knew what his son was thinking.
“You dont need to run wild around the country anymore, Raz’ul,” he says, his voice softer and quieter than his son had ever heard. “You’ll be safer at home, with your family.”
But when Raz’ul hears that word, ‘family,’ his mind does not call forth visions of Mount Tain and his brothers and fellow dwarves. Instead, he sees his dorm room at Strumlotts, and Splash and Yashee and Randy. His band mates who have supported him from that very first day, followed him to to Lakeridge for new strings, fought alongside him against faze spiders and an eddercap. They are his source of strength and determination and until their mission is complete and they find out what the hell is happening, Raz’ul isn’t going anywhere.
So Raz’ul clenches his jaw, holds his head high, looks at his father and says,
“No.”
His head splits with pain once more as King Daz’ul brings his staff down on the floor again. The soft gaze is gone; in its place is the cold stare Raz’ul is familiar with. The young dwarf holds his head, trembling, eyes filling with tears as his father walks slowly toward him.
“Still weak,” Daz’ul says with a sneer, punctuating his sentence with another BOOM of his staff. Raz’ul convulses and falls to his knees. “Still so unfit to rule.” BOOM. Raz’ul collapses on his side, blind with pain. He hears his father’s footsteps stop near his head, and then the sound of his short sword being drawn.
“Unfit to be my son.”
But before his father can strike, Raz’ul uses the last of his constitution to roll to his knees, grab Usumptin off his back and swing. He feels the blade connect and hears a scream that is distinctly not his father’s.
Raz’ul opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) and sees Yashee sitting on the ground in front of him, where his father had been standing, holding her bloodied calf. He looks around the cave wildly but King Daz’ul is nowhere to be found. He turns back and Yashee and Randy are staring at him in concern.
“Did you see him?” Raz’ul asks them. He’s panting and panicked. His head still aches. “Where did he go?” Yashee and Randy look even more confused.
“Who? What are you talking about?” Randy asks. He’s starting to cast Cure Wounds on Yashee and Raz’ul knows he should help but he has to find his father first, its the only way they’ll all be safe right now. He stands, holding Usumptin at the ready.
“Where are you?!” he yells, brandishing his axe. “C’mon, lets finish this!” From behind him he hears his father’s laughter, cruel and mocking, and Raz’ul sees red. As he turned and sprints down the tunnel, back toward where they came from, he wonders if this is how Yashee feels when she rages.
He hears Yashee and Randy calling his name but he can’t turn back, can’t let his father continue to torture him like this. It ends now.
His father’s voice echoes around him again.
“Oh, Raz’ul. So eager to prove yourself. How does it feel to keep failing?”
Raz’ul lets out a wordless yell, anger and frustration coursing through him. His head pulses with every step but he does not stop.
“It’s useless, Raz’ul,” Daz’ul says. Raz’ul hears his father’s staff slam down again and it feels like his head splits in two. He trips and falls to the ground, Usumthin falling out of his hands and sliding away. He is paralyzed with fear and pain. Once again he hears his father’s footsteps stop near his head. The young dwarf lays there, unable to even open his eyes to see King Daz’ul’s disappointment one last time.
Through the haze of agony, Raz’ul thinks he hears Yashee and Randy’s voices calling out to him. He almost smiles. He’s glad his last thoughts will be of his family. He can just make out what they’re saying over the smooth sound of his father’s short sword being unsheathed.
“Raz’ul! It’s not real! Raz’ul, get up, it’s Squid Vicious, it’s not real!”
In a rush, Raz’ul remembers everything that has transpired in the caves—Squid and the Gils and Eddie and the memories of Dank’ul—and he hears a frustrated “No!” in his head. He sits up with a gasp as all of the pain leaves him at once. Yashee and Randy round a corner and see him. They run to him and fall to their knees next to him as soon as they’re close enough.
“Randy figured it out,” Yashee says, trying to catch her breath. “Squid was making you see and hear...things. Are you okay?”
Raz’ul says nothing. He stares at the ground, his heart still pounding and the ghost of a headache still at his temples. Is he okay? “That’s a very good question,” he thinks to himself.
“That’s a very good question,” he says. He pats his chest and legs, aware now of some cuts and bruises he must have gotten from falling so much. His hands are shaking. He takes a deep breath.
“I’ll live.”
Yashee and Randy help him stand and Yashee presses Usumptin into his hands. It’s a comfort, despite everything that has occurred. Raz’ul straps it on his back again, and then looks at Yashee in horror.
“Your leg...I’m so sorry—“ he stammers but Yashee waves her hand.
“Randy healed me,” she says. “I’m fine. Got back more than enough hit points.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Randy asks suddenly. Raz’ul has never seen him look so concerned. But then again, he knows best what it's like to not know your own mind. The dwarf sighs and smiles a little sadly.
“I will be,” he says with a surprising amount of honesty. “Now come on. I owe Squid Vicious a meeting with Usumptin.”