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At the edge of a forest which bloomed red at all times of year, there lay a mighty castle. This castle was bright and merry, and knew laughter, and joy. At the heart of the castle, four kings brought peace and prosperity through kindness and justice. A king’s work is never done, but at times, they would call upon the Fool to bring unto them the finest in japery.
This Fool wore the finest silk in black and violet, with a like-colored cap n’ bells. His feet were clad in chartreuse shoes that did not fit, and his collar bore a ruff of yellow and green. There was a twinkle in his eye, though some cared not for his shrewdness. The Fool’s tail curled around his legs as he bounced about, his sharp tongue and quick wit often assisted by the Sorcerer.
The Sorcerer, a lavender cat in a dark robe befitting a wizard, provided some illusion or other when the Fool’s act required. He was a quiet, unassuming figure, though his height could be imposing. The Fool could employ magic, of course; the kings, however, forbade it.
It was a perfectly normal day when destiny arrived, as destiny is wont to do. He was a short, thin man, not at all the sort one might expect to change the world. He wore simple armor of studded leather, with a hood obscuring his face, and carried a heavy blade. He had no name, and the kings knew him simply as the Knight.
The Fool was the first to greet the newcomer, with a warm “Welcome, welcome!” The Knight spoke not a word, but walked past the Fool and onward to the throne room. After his audience was through, the Knight returned and spoke to the Fool. The Fool listened intently, and heard of things he could not understand. He remained where he was for a time, trying in vain to find some escape from the truths the Knight had given him.
The Sorcerer found him there, mumbling softly to himself. The Fool could not answer the Sorcerer’s queries. Any attempt to speak with him yielded naught but incomprehensible babbling. And so he was brought before the kings…
-=-=-=-
“Your Highnesses!” Seam stormed into the throne room, dragging the Fool behind him.
“Manners, Spellcaster,” admonished the King of Hearts, not unkindly.
Seam bowed. “Apologies, my lord. But this is a matter of some urgency.” He gestured to the Fool, still in his indecipherable stupor.
“That’s, like… not good, dude,” mumbled the King of Clubs.
“Quite a poor state!” chortled the King of Diamonds.
“Fool, what is the meaning of this?” grumbled the King of Spades.
He has a name, you know, Seam thought to himself. The Fool murmured something to himself, and laughed.
Seam put a hand on his shoulder. “Jevil, your king has asked a question of you.”
Jevil looked up and met Seam’s gaze in a moment of fleeting lucidity. “A game, game, Seam! All the world’s a game!” He cackled and fell to the floor, lost to the world once more. The King of Hearts pursed his lips.
“Perhaps an overnight stay in the infirmary?” he suggested.
“That sounds, like, totally rad,” affirmed the King of Clubs.
“Do with him what you will,” muttered the King of Spades.
And so Seam took him away. Days passed, but there was no sign of improvement. The Fool was irreparably afflicted. His pointless mutterings eventually became coherent, but there wasn’t much of a difference; no one, not even Seam, could discern meaning from them. They were on the cusp of logic, so close to making sense… but still, they confused all who heard them.
After a fortnight caring for the Fool, Seam was losing hope. On one of his trips, however, he met the Fool in the hall. He seemed in good health, although he looked as pale as ever.
“Jevil?” The Fool stopped at the sound of his name. “Are you better?”
The Fool cracked a smile. “I am better, better - for better or for worse,” he said brightly. His smile faded. “A dark day approaches, Seam.” The Fool stared into Seam’s eyes; it was unsettling, as if the Fool looked right through him. “And when the darkness begins to bleed, they will come.”
“Jevil, what are you saying?”
The Fool laughed mirthlessly. “Don’t worry, worry, Seam. You’ll turn a blind eye to it all.” Seam recoiled; it wasn’t like the Fool to be so harsh.
It was the last thing he had said to Seam before the kings had cast him out. Days later, the Fool’s final words echoed in Seam’s mind as the Knight’s hand-and-a-half sword bit ruthlessly into his face and half the world went dark.
-=-=-=-
At the edge of a forest which bloomed the color of blood at all times of year, there lay a once-mighty castle. This castle was dark and grim, and knew sorrow, and fear. And deep within the castle walls lay a cell, well away from any who might seek to release its contents.
The Fool was long since gone. The Fool had died the day he was imprisoned here. Jevil smiled to himself. He was no one’s Fool, not anymore. His face had acquired a sickly pallor, and his smile was crooked with madness. Jevil leered at the world beyond his cell with sunken eyes. Freedom often grew lonely.
“Still no visitors, Jevil?” The voice came from beyond the bars; it was scratchy, like the sound of tearing cloth. Jevil blinked at the lavender cat leaning against the wall, tail lazily flicking from side to side. Two button eyes stared back.
Jevil smiled deliriously. “Welcome, welcome, Seam!” Jevil bounced about, whooping and hollering. “How wonderful of you to stop by!” He stopped suddenly. “Perhaps you’ve come to play?” he wondered.
“I don’t think so, Jevil,” said the cat. It put a hand on Jevil’s shoulder and sat down beside him. “Maybe next time.”
Jevil frowned. “Next time? But you said that last time!”
The cat smiled. “So I did. Goodbye, Jevil.” Jevil waved sadly as the cat wandered away into the darkness.
Jevil’s sour mood did not last long. A moment later he was bouncing around the room again, laughing hysterically. Up, down, back and forth. Jevil slowly began to tire again, and his laughter faded to a chuckle.
Maybe someone really would visit next time.