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Chapter Text

Tip tap tip tap…Ding!

Tip…tap…

Through the vastness of the cosmic. Between the infinite and everlasting universe, a turtle passes. 

And upon its immense hard shell, stood four elephants. 

Swimming through infinite galaxies, they go onward into the unknown. 

But this story is not about giant turtles and elephants from the stars. 

...

This story takes place on the disc carried by the elephants that stand on the back of the Great A’Tuin, the star turtle. In this Discworld, across the sky and endless mountains... Through the plains and extensiveness of the forests and into a network of forgotten ruins, RINCEWIND, the self-proclaimed WIZZARD…

Was a bit tied up at the moment. 

Just a simple errand, they said. Mumbled Rincewind in the solitude of his mind, Anyone could do it, they said.

He guessed it was his own fault in accepting just another request from the senior wizards of the Unseen University. Just when it feels like it could be just a regular and non-dangerous errand, it appears. He should have been used to it by now. Rincewind always finds trouble and IT always finds him. 

There’s that feeling on the back of his neck again.  

The cold chills of being dragged as a small chess piece across the room and placed onto a checkered surface. The rattling of dice buzzing around his head as if Fate was gambling against the Lady once more. No one could really understand what Rincewind goes through. Not even himself could answer as to why things are the way they are.

Though, maybe he never really gave the time to think about it. He was always busy running.

Speaking of which, Rincewind wiggled to try to loosen the grip of the ropes that tied around his arms. 

He immediately decided to stop.

What if it works and he is set free? Then what? Rincewind will tell you. He’ll probably go about looking for an exit. Just to mysteriously find a particular lever. Then, walls would open up and reveal a secret escape route. Only for him to get ambushed by the enemy waiting on the other side and asking him:

How did you manage to escape?

or

Look at our swords, they’re very sharp aren’t they? Let’s test it out, shall we?

Frankly, Rincewind didn’t want to find out. So he bravely decided to just stay put. After all, some solitude and a bit of bread everyday seemed like his regular times back in UU. Only, there’s no potatoes lying around.

HELLO, RINCEWIND.

“Oh, sh-”

HOW'S IT HANGING?

Rincewind went back to the escaping part of his plans as he shook the ropes at great speed.

“Um...it's-it's not my time yet, is it?” asked Rincewind nervously at the black-robed figure.

UNFORTUNATELY. Death replied.

Rincewind’s pacing slowed down, just a bit. Escaping was still in motion.

“So, why are you here?”

THERE'S A MAN I HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WITH. IT'’S ON IN 5 MINUTES.

“N-no I mean, why are you HERE?” The wizard pointed. At the fact, considering that he had no hands in which to point at the moment.

Rincewind had no idea that Death itself could sigh. Actually, don’t think there would be anyone that knew the fact and survived in order to tell this little info.  Still, Death did a great impression of a sigh, as Rincewind saw him crouch down and sat next to him. Death placed his scythe resting on his skeletal lap. The reflection of Rincewind’s face against the blade, caused him to try to pick up the pace once again.

The struggles of the wizard caused some crates above the shelf behind him to fall down on the floor. Some wood debris, ropes, bottles, and a mace spread all over the room.

ALBERT SAYS I SHOULD MAKE FRIENDS.

"Did he now?" Rincewind replied without really paying much attention. His mouth let him auto-pilot the conversation due to the fact that it would be considered rude not to answer back to Death. The other however, went silent for a moment. Rincewind looked back curiously.

Death was tapping his fingers on the handle of his scythe numerous times. It felt like something was biting an imaginary tongue within his skull.

I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE THINGS. LET ALONE, FRIENDS. 

"I...figured as much."

SO I GOT TO THINKING…

Very dangerous. Rincewind said in the back of mind as he nodded.

A FRIEND IS SOMEONE YOU SEE VERY OFTEN. 

Rincewind gulped.

He tried to pop his head back and forth against the wooden furniture behind him. Maybe he could make himself unconscious and wake up to a different type of unplanned-adventure. Gods knows he won’t be lucky enough to go back to Ankh-Morpork, but anywhere seemed to be a better choice than staying here.

BUT ANYONE I HAPPEN TO MEET, WILL ONLY SEE ME ONCE.

"Once is plenty, I'll say." Rincewind groaned as his head was hurting from all the popping.

AND YET. THIS ISN'T THE LAST TIME I'VE SEEN YOU.

"Oh...Gods." Rincewind whimpered as the conclusion was getting closed at hand.

RINCEWIND, WILL YOU HAPPEN TO BE MY FRIEN-

"HIPPOS!” Rincewind yelled through his lungs, “BANANAS! Uh….MARMALADE! PNEUMONOULTRAMICROSCOPICSILICOVOLCANOCONIOSIS!”

“Hey!” Shouted a voice from the other room, “Quiet in there!”

Oh goods, an interruption! Rincewind cheered in his mind as the door opened to reveal the man who caused the wizard’s entrapment in the first place. 

“Look, how was I supposed to know that you were after that thing ?” Rincewind asked in utter annoyance.

As a form of intimidation, the man took out his sword from the scabbard around his waist. The wizard coiled his head in return. 

“That thing is said to grant wishes!” The man yelled with a passion, “It is what our organization has stood for 100 years! It grants us the ultimate answer of the universe! It is...the ORB OF KNOWLEDGE!”

“It’s just a ball with notes stuck inside!” Rincewind pleaded, “You shake it and it tells you things that are already written! We use it for parties!”*

“Blasphemy!” The man swung his sword in the air, “I’ll curse you and send you to hell myself!”

The guy launched forwards, his foot caught in a crack on the floor. His other foot landed on a piece of slippery broken wood as his body flew up. The last thing he saw was several pointing bits of a mace.

*The only banned questions the wizards of the Unseen University listed as to not ask the Orb of Knowledge are as follows: Will I get a girlfriend? What about a boyfriend? I’m not picky, just want to cover all bases. Am I a good wizard? And...Am I dead? Most of these questions were banned by majority vote just because it made the whole party vibes to be rather depressing. Apparently, not everyone got the picture and started asking only these questions. It was up to the senior wizards to get rid of the object for good. Being the causers of this predicament in the first place, it was their responsibility that the orb should have been destroyed.

“I died? Just like that?” Asked the ghost as he saw his own body lying on the floor.

YES. MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE WATCHED WHERE YOU WERE GOING.

“Well, now I don't have to do that anymore!”

“YES, ISN'T IT GRAND?” Death’s bony jaw cracked into a smile.

“That was sarcasm! What am I going to do now?!”

Death stood back. 

Rincewind leaned into the 1-sided conversation closely. It did not sound good, by the looks of it. Death pondered for a moment in order to find the answer for the ghost’s aching question. His eye sockets shined brightly blue as he became quite pleased with himself. He could not wait to share his discovery with the dead man.

WALK FORWARDS.

Death opened up a portal that led to an infinite gray desert with black darkened skies. He held out his hand on the back of the ghost and led the way in.

Almost half-way inside, Death’s head popped right back for one last time.

I'LL SEE YOU AGAIN, RINCEWIND.

"How much later?" The wizard asked anxiously.

Death chuckled. Chuckled? As he closed the portal behind him, leaving Rincewind alone, confused, and startled. A regular day for Rincewind actually, so back to status quo!

Rincewind looked down at the now diseased corpse and then quickly stared at the sharpness of the blade that the man had dropped. It was exactly in the right distance for him to reach. And exactly the exact sharpness needed for these exact ropes. 

“Fine. Fine alright! I'll escape!” Rincewind yelled out to the universe. He proceeded to brush the ropes against the sword as the grip loosened. The ropes fell down onto the floor. "Are you happy now? Are you entertained?!"

The universe didn't answer back.

Not even chuckled.

Chapter Text

Off into the distance, the cultist’s stronghold blazed in crimson agony as the lone wizard sat away on a little hill, watching the fire dance. He was left contemplating if this was somehow his doing. He remembers leaving his prison room, checking for any more dangerous items for which not to bring with him, open a window, and nope! That was it. Not his fault, that fire. 

Could this be considered to be another one of Rincewind’s bad luck? It had to be, the wizard argued, cause now he couldn’t ask for directions. Or at least get kidnapped onto a less fire-induced building.

A sound of multiple feet drew close.

Rincewind didn’t even bother to turn to the figure in question. Instead, he simply nagged at it.

 “Well, NOW you show up.”

The Luggage tilted slightly downwards.

“This isn’t your doing, is it?” Rincewind waved his hand towards the chaos. The Luggage plotted its legs onto the ground and laid next to his owner, completely oblivious. 

Rincewind sighed in defeat, “No, I guess not.”

He noticed the Luggage getting closer and pushed gently onto the wizard’s leg. Something inside it seemed to be whirling around. Quickly, the Luggage spewed out a t-shirt with the word sorry on it.*

*It's not like Rincewind didn't understand the language of the Luggage** He's really good at deciphering that. But he quickly realized not other people could speak wood. So with a collection of unused t-shirts and ink, Rincewind wrote down the more necessary words that it could use. Unfortunately, he only had about 4 shirts.

**He called it, "Lungguage".

"No, it's not you." Apologized Rincewind, "It's just...see, I didn't have my breakfast yet so I get a bit cranky and-"

The Luggage spewed out a plate of potatoes and one piece of napkin. 

"Harr!" Rincewind quickly covered his nervous smile. He poked at the peeled potatoes for a moment. And just in case, poked at the napkin. Everything seemed to be in order.

"T-thanks." Said Rincewind as he encouragedly tapped the chest a few times. It was rare that the luggage behaved like this. Normally, if a pet does what it is supposed to do, it would get a treat in return. But what would a piece of furniture want in return? 

"I'll uh, give you a duck when we get back?" 

One of its feet stomped the ground.

"A live duck?" Rincewind added.

The luggage opened its lid and spewed out a shirt with the words YES, as it splattered across the wizard’s face. It smelled like freshly new clothes with a small hint of lavender.

"G...good bo-gir-" Rincewind corrected himself, "Good luggage."

He took a bite of the potatoes and was surprised that they weren't cold. 

"Well," Rincewind stood up and brushed the grass away from his robe, "Guess it's time to move on from here, you think?"

The luggage crooked its lid open.

"Yeah, I think so too." He nodded in agreement with the wooden box.

For much how Rincewind would love the idea to just sit in blissful ignorance, he knew how his life works. And he was overdue for another disaster. Better not stack them up in the same place.

"Let's go." Rincewind swung his arm to his companion to follow. The Luggage, however, went in the other direction. Rincewind groaned as he stomped his way to follow it.

The Luggage was rifling through the bushes, as if something caught its attention.

"If you wanted squirrels instead of ducks, you could have just asked." Rincewind put down squirrels on his mental notes. He’ll have to visit the clothes store later when they get back.

Something heavy rolled out of the bushes. The luggage moved its million tiny feet in joyous dance. The same thing couldn’t be said for the wizard, as he glared in utter disappointment at the Orb of Knowledge.

He might as well grab the thing… 

He let the momentum of the orb roll over to him as he crouched down to grab it.

"Well, that's odd." The wizard observed a little mark drawn onto a white spot on the object, "Why would they draw an infinity symbol on-"

The sphere bumped against the foot of Rincewind, causing the symbol to appear sideways.

A piercing shriek escaped from the wizard’s throat.

"Threeplusfive! Threeplusfive!" Rincewind’s own body sprinted automatically just to get away from the thing. Mud has trampled his footing, causing him to sink deeper the more his legs gave out.

It started! I just can't get away from it! Screamed Rincewind from the top of his lungs. Oh, Gods! This is the end of me! This is it! This is-

A familiar and frightening sound was heard from the back.

The wizard dared to turn his head around. 

There was no orb. But there was the Luggage. Standing where the cursed object once was.

It burped.

The earth cracked open as Rincewind tiptoed his way back to the Luggage. Somehow the mud felt very dry now. 

Well, he came all this way for the blasted thing. Nearly got him killed, but what's new about that? The plan was to return safely empty handed. Apologize for being late, and go to his room in shame.

However…

Returning BACK to the university and saying that my luggage ate my assignment, and no one would even dare to bat an eye.

He could even be so bold enough to say, want to take a look for yourself? Here, I'll leave the lid open for you.

A little grin of defiance escaped the wizard.

He tapped his knuckle three times on the side of the luggage. It turned around and leaned over to its master. Rincewind hopped on top of it as little tiny feet carried him until they were out of view over the horizon at sun’s end.

…

Death’s Domain. 

When people say a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, a question emerges: What does an enigma look like? How can a mystery be wrapped? Is it bendable then? While these questions cannot be answered, it does give a good description to a different question: What does Death’s home look like?

Another way to describe it, would be a dimension that is not really there. But let's try it anyway.

Black. 

People would expect it, of course. So, naturally it would be black. All shades of it.

Black trees, black skies, black mansion. However, there were some things that felt like the owner was getting tired of the whole black theme business. Long fields of golden wheat moved calmingly against the illusion of a breeze. There lay one dark blue pond with one single fish that jumps up every 10 hours. A lonely swing set that has been carefully cared for. And bees. Just...bees. Don’t ask what the color of the honey is. 

This whole place seemed like a long forgotten collection of hobbies, which the owner did not have the guts to get rid of. They’re things in which Death has tried to understand. And still tried to. A remembrance of that long curiosity that drives him time and time again to what it is like to be human. A small little thought that pops up after the job is done. A little defiance in his routine. It is the memento of Death. Memento Mori.

"Rincewind, sir?" Albert questioned as he poured tea into Death's cup. The servant was wary about his master. He knew how Death is with his hobbies. He hasn't even finished recreating bowling yet*

*The pins were assembled with ice cubes. And there was the difficulty in finding a ball with three holes already pre-installed.

HE DOES HAVE A KNACK OF SURVIVING.

"Well, yes. But sir-"

Albert stopped. He saw Death organizing his desk. A particular small hourglass stood on it.

AMAZING, ISN'T IT?

The hourglass wasn't even shaped right. The glass itself had eight hexagonal faces. The sand was held by an unknown force of gravity. Making it to spin randomly in between its crimson wooden base. It felt like each side of the glass had to be numbered, but its creator either forgot to or didn't know where the 1 and 8 began.

"You know, sir," Albert pointed out, "You used to hate that hourglass."

HATE? WAS THAT HATE THEN?

"Pretty much sir." He answered, "There were numerous times you came back from your work saying you had another…what was it? Near-Rincewind-Experience ?"

Death pondered at the thought. He wasn't fully aware of emotions back then. 

"You ended up being stuck in your room for incalculable days just staring at that hourglass before your next appointment was set, sir."

Death tapped his fingers on the table. 

AH, BUT THINGS ARE CHANGING NOW, ALBERT.

"Cause he can be befriended, sir?"

YES.

"You know, when I said you needed friends, I wasn't actually-"

The hourglass shook once again, sand moving about directionless until it settled onto a rhythm.

FASCINATING…

Albert thought it was hopeless and let his master receive some solitude. He stood closed by the door’s edge.

" Luck really shines in on this one, huh sir?"

YES. IT REALLY DOES.

A thought occurred to Death. He raised his head for Albert, but the servant was already gone.

Oh well, it might not be important. Death shrugged as he went back to do his boring paperwork.

Chapter Text

Rincewind was beginning to miss the company of the cultists. They at least gave him some type of conversational banter. These however…

“Ouch!” 

The little demon with a bucket for a hat poked at the wizard with a seemingly large fork. Rincewind was again tied up. Only this time, he was stuck on a log as an army of little demons held it on both ends. The wizard couldn’t see exactly where they were heading, though the smell of sulfur lunged into the air was a dead giveaway.

“I keep telling you,” Rincewind warned, “A fair maiden would suit the atmosphere much better!”

“Silence, Pointy-Hat Man!” Shouted what Rincewind could depict, is the demon who’s only job is to yell at him.

The wizard groaned as he sat his head back. It was a pretty blue clear sky today too. He never really gave much time to look at it. But now, this view would be the only image he’ll remember before being burned into a crisp. Oh! That cloud looks like a bunny! How nice. And over there! It looks like a…like a butcher’s knife! Which…it's getting closer to the bunny. And…oh dear, the head part of it just…yeah. Better to keep my eyes closed for this.

Rincewind thought he was rid of seeing demons again. From what he could gather in incomprehensible garbles and demonglish, a few demons weren’t exactly happy with the new leaders in hell and wanted things to go back the way they were. Meaning, having one big figure to yell orders at them. So a few demons fled the bowels of hell and found themselves here. Confused and without any guidance, these lesser demons ended up doing what they knew best. And that is, having a good old sacrifice.

“This is it.” Rincewind whispered.

EVENING.

Rincewind’s hair struck up in the air as he rolled his eyes to the direction of the figure. Death appeared to have blended into the crowd that is holding on to the log. No one seems to have noticed the tall figure helping them.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” Yelled Rincewind.

ALMOST.

The little demons shook the log with force, making the wizard's head ring like a bell. He proceeded to acknowledge Death with a lower tone.

“Isn’t there like a rule limit on how many times you visit someone in a day?”

THERE IS. AND IT’S ONE. Death stared at the wizard closely, BUT YOU SEEM TO KEEP BREAKING IT.

“Lovely.”

IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL ANY BETTER, Death pointed, I’M NOT HERE FOR YOU.

“What?” The wizard couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed. So obviously, he tucked that feeling deep within his subconscious, hid it in a vault and swallowed the key.

“I'm going to be sacrificed to a nameless god by a bunch of renegade demons, and you're not here for me?”

Death shook his head.

“But this is like, up your alley isn’t it?” The wizard complained.

Death was taken back, odd calculations buzzed into his head, DO YOU… WANT ME TO-

“Nope! Nononono. you go on with your work, I’ll uh…” Rincewind looked around desperately, “I’ll see what I can do from here.”

The silence was drawn with the tiny little feet of demons marching forwards.

Rincewind coughed, “Um, anything else I should know?”

JUST WANTED TO SEE IF YOU WOULD CONSIDER MY PROPOSAL.

Rincewind’s eyes blinked with uncertainty, “What proposal…?”

BECOMING FRIENDS OF COURSE.

Rincewind blinked again, only this time harder, “Pardon?”

IF NOT, Death added, YOU CAN TEACH ME HOW. 

“I um…don’t think I can help you there.” He looked down, “I don’t really have many friends of my own.”

YOU RADIATE WITH FRIENDS ALL THE TIME, RINCEWIND.

“Not really.”

EVERYTIME I GO DO MY JOB, I SEE YOU WITH DIFFERENT ADVENTURERS.

“ Expendable Adventurers.” The wizard pointed his head to another stick being held by another group of demons. Apparently the body that was tied up, had a problem with knowing how to live.

“Anyways, they weren’t really my friends,” Rincewind continued, “Cause anyone I happen to meet, will…only see…me…once….”

The words echoed back to Rincewind as they held a similar tone of Death's own.The similarities sinked into his head. He desperately tried to rapidly search within his memories to prove that thought wrong. But going through them is like going into a blender of  sharp regrets and sour misfortunes. With an aftertaste of sadness.

Death observed the wizard frozen in thought and could tell he was in sort of a conundrum. He held his scythe to rest on his shoulder as he rubbed his chin,

WHAT ABOUT THAT TOURIST OF YOURS?

"Two-Flower ?" Rincewind immediately looked up in surprise. A name that he has spoken from a long time has made him wake up from whatever place he was in.

He stuttered, "W-Well, yes I did see him twice and all but..."

WHY NOT VISIT HIM? IF HE'S YOUR FRIEND?

A demon stuffed an apple on Rincewind’s mouth, which he quickly spit right back. It managed to miss anyone.

"No no no no," Rincewind responded, "Even if the journey there could be shortened, it's better for my Rincewindiness to just stay here and not cause any problems there ."

It seemed that there were more words to follow in his reasoning, but Rincewind didn't have the words to say them in one conversation alone. If it was a spell, it would take Rincewind a hundred years to conjure it. And even then, it won’t work because he happens to be the only wizard in existence that can’t do magic.

Death tilted his head in confusion.

"It's... complicated ." Rincedwind tried to explain.

AH. Death acknowledged. Acknowledge what? Rincewind didn't bother to ask or correct him.

“ALL BOW DOWN TO LORD BEETLEBUZZ!!!”

The march has stopped to its destination. the demons lowered the wizard, as they pointed their big utensils at his back. Rincewind peered at the group of worshippers bowing their heads to what appeared to be a crudely made totem statue. It was colored in red paint with a touch of brown. The artist seemed to have forgotten to clean the brush between colors. Though Rincewind did have to give points when due, they added symmetrical horns to the figure and that face looked threatening enough for an A-Grade in a job well done. The wizard couldn’t help but stare at the little gap in its teeth, as a megaphone-like cylinder was hiding in plain sight.

“IT IS I, LORD BEETLEBUZZ!” Roared the wooden-made god.

The demons were in awe at its presence, they began to add more fuel to the pile of flames they made inside a big hole in the ground. Some habits die hard. 

Rincewind slowly tilted his head towards Death, who was watching with interest,

“I suppose you won’t tell me whether I die here or not?”

I COULDN’T IF I WANTED TO.

“Fair enough,” Said Rincewind, “Can you tell me though, who’s appointment are you here for today?”

Just in case, Death thought if telling the wizard would break some sort of protocol. Finding no problems whatsoever, Death pointed his scythe exactly where the mouth of the idol was.

“Ah.” Rincewind acknowledged calmly.

The demons pushed the wizard forwards, coming closer to their statue of worship.

“This is no way to treat a wizard, mind you!” Rincewind accused, “Someone is going to die for this!”

The demons crackled with laughter. 

“I mean it!” he whined, “In about 10 seconds-”

He felt a chill tap on his shoulder. Death whispered something in his ear.

“In about 18.5 seconds,” He corrected himself, “Someone is going to have a really unpleasant day!”

Rincewind raised his hands as dramatically as he could. He may have failed his classes, but he bloody damn well earned high points in looking the part. He puts his arms forwards to the statue. A few gestures seemed like he was trying to give some sort of run away signal to it.

“You fool!” Said the demon in charge of yelling, “Gods cannot be extinguished.”

The demons’ laughter grew stronger. From inside the contraption, the little guy that called himself Beetlebuzz was using its feet to lower a lever. Its hands pushed a multitude of buttons as its tail was wrapped around a bag of popped corn. He left his hand free so he could scoop up a few corns as its eyes were frozen at an eerie shadow standing besides the wizard. The figure slowly moved its head and was locking its cold stare straight at the demon. The creature choked on the popcorn as he immediately stood back.

“It’s here for me!” Beetlebuzz yelled. 

One of its feet got stuck on some of the rope levels of the contraption. Its body got tangled up as it tried to get onto its escape hatch. It used its head to bump into a button, which the statue opened up a little door from its back. He immediately jumped out, unaware that the rope it was entangled with was getting tighter around its neck.

A little demon spewed out of the Beetlebuzz statue as the group of worshippers stared for a moment. Panic quickly took hold.

“There is no God! God is an illusion! Doom is Neigh!”

The creatures roamed around aimlessly, already forgetting about the wizard. Rincewind took that time to just leave. Since he was somewhat invisible, he decided not to run and just walked away this time.

Death held the demon’s spirit on its bony fingers. He opened up a little portal and gently guided the little ghost inside as he waved goodbye to it. 

He then proceeded to follow the wizard.

Sitting on a log, Rincewind used that moment to just look vacantly at his reflection. He gave out a large sigh that he had kept this whole time. He lowered his head and hid it between his hands. A cold chill emerged in his presence, but Rincewind kept his position.

“I tried to warn him, honestly.” Rincewind confessed at the familiar coldness, “I thought he would run.”

HE DID. Death answered, BUT NOT EVERYONE CAN ESCAPE ME.

“Hm,”

Death was standing behind the wizard, keeping his distance as he let his scythe stand on the grass. 

THESE CREATURES WERE GOING TO BURN YOU ALIVE, Death pondered, AND YET YOU WISHED THEY WON’T SHARE THE SAME FATE?

Rincewind shrugged.

WHY?

“Because.” 

A frog jumped onto a lilypad of the pond. Dragonflies buzzed around as the wizard kept his eyes on the ripping of the water. 

Death turned around, TILL’ NEXT WE MEET, RINCEWIND.

“Oh, wait.” Rincewind quickly turned his head, “You…haven’t seen my luggage around, haven’t you?”

I DON’T THINK SO.

“Yup, figures.” Rincewind turned back to his reflection. He whispered under his breath, “Just another day of being me, I guess.”

Death stood quiet as the sound of nature and life overtook the scenery. Death felt unwelcomed, so he stepped out and left the wizard on his own little world of silence.

Chapter Text

“You cheated!”

“Surely, you jest.”

Fate stomped his hands dramatically on the chessboard. All the figures scattered on the floor, except for one little crooked red pawn from the Lady’s side.

“You have held onto that piece for far too long!” Fate furiously declared.

The Lady chuckled as the game table turned into a puff of smoke. It then manifested itself onto a fresher new chessboard and pieces. The goddess waved her arm around while her hand held onto the dice.

“Is that another wager?”

Before Fate could respond, a large groan was heard from the unamused crowd. Well, it couldn’t be considered a crowd now, as Bibulous, the god of wine and things on stick was the only god paying some sort of attention. 

“Not that there’s a concept of time here but, you’ve been at each other’s throats for far too long.” Bibulous pointed at the leftover disaster of the party. And on the farside of the pile, a sleepy crocodile slumbered inside a mountain of empty bottles. “This was supposed to be a celebration of Offler’s Two-Billion followers count!”

“Um, where IS everybody?” Fate asked.

“They left.” Bibulous looked inside his bottle of wine. He could produce a fully freshed bottle, but shook the empty one for any kind of leftover drop, “They’re all gone.”

“Hmm…” Fate pondered for a bit as he turned his head to his opponent, “What do you say, Lady? Would you like a break from this game?”

“A break?” Said the Lady as she followed up on the game of words, “for FATE? Now what kind of world would that look like, without some Fate?”

Her opponent mimicked her coy smile as he turned away with his arms behind his back, 

“I’m sure the world can live for just a minute, there’s someone I must talk to.”

“But of course.” The Lady went the opposite way, “I’m sure we can delay our little game for some time.”

Bibulous looked around the silent room as he sighed in relief. He hugged at the bottle as he shook Offler’s shoulder, “Want another drink there?”

The crocodile mumbled as Bibulous smiled and produced another drink and little sausages on a stick.

…

In Death’s garden, Fate walked closely to the host of this world. Death was seen sharpening his scythe onto a grinding stone. 

“Death.”

FATE.

The two exchange nods as Fate crossed his arms as he observed beyond the abyss of the world across, “I suppose you are as mad as me on this Rincewand fellow.”

RINCEWIND. Death corrected him while keeping his attention to his work. 

I BELIEVE THE LADY ONLY SHOWS HER COMPETITIVE NATURE WHEN YOU CHALLENGE HER DIRECTLY.

Fate scoffed, “Fate of the world? Battles to the death? Wars of Empires? Those are the best kind.”

Death didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed, Death.”

REALLY? HOW SO?

“I remember that hatred in your eyes,” Fate answered in nostalgia, “How you could never get him.”

I HAVE A DIFFERENT APPROACH NOW.

“Well, I would certainly love to hear it!”

I STOPPED.

“What? But, if you stop, well…you’re letting him win! He would practically be immortal!”

NO ONE IS IMMORTAL.

“And how so?” Fate replied, “From my understanding, the sand from his hourglass is impossible to read when he will die!”

Death grinned.

PEOPLE ALWAYS LOOK AT THE SANDS OF ONE’S LIFE. BUT NOT TO ITS MEDIUM. THEY FORGET THAT THE GLASS THAT HOLDS IT IS FRAGILE AND CAN BREAK EASILY. 

THE WORLD WILL END.

THE UNIVERSE WILL END.

HUMANS DIE. AS WELL AS THEIR BELIEF. SO TOO, THE GODS.

SO WILL I.

Fate stood in silence as the grim reaper sharpened his scythe once more. He stopped the machine and gave his scythe a test swing.

Death turned to his silent guest as his eyes glowed in full azure flames, FATE IS NOT JUST ABOUT THE “END” OF SOMETHING, I SHOULD SAY.

Fate raised an eyebrow questioningly, “That’s strange coming from you.”

I BELIEVE FATE CAN BE MORE LIKE…PLANNED COINCIDENCES. 

Fate leaned in closely and whispered in conspiracy, “And what kind of planned coincidence are you suggesting?”

Death did not move.

SOMETHING TO MAKE THE LADY THINK.

.

.

.

“I’m listening.”

…

“No luggage, no friends, just me walking alone in this weird looking forest. At NIGHT!” Those last words were shouted by Rincewind just to keep himself from wandering onto any sleeping creature or bugs around him. He’s been everywhere on the Disc, hasn’t he? Surely, the professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography would know the way back home, right? 

“Oh Gods,” Rincewind stopped in his tracks as realization finally struck, “I’m lost.”

On cue, an owl screeched, making the wizard coil in defense. The mist was slowly settling in, as Rincewind felt some sort of eeriness around him. Somehow, the air felt lighter. Almost as if, the mist was caused due to magical disturbance. But it didn’t seem dangerous, Rincewind noted. Otherwise, his feet would have already run the other way.

Just in case, Rincewind tapped onto the trees just to see if they would answer back. Nothing. So he hasn’t gone fully insane yet. 

“Hello?” Asked Rincewind as the situation demanded it. And as predicted, no voice returned back, except the fog becoming thicker. 

“WHO GOES THERE?!” A booming voice echoed into Rincewind’s direction. “YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON LORD…UH…”

For politeness sake, Rincewind stood in place just to give some time for the voice to come up with a cool introductive name. He then turned around and swung his arms as he got ready to run the opposite way.

“WAIT, HOLD ON NOW! I HAVEN’T GIVE YOU MY NAME!” The voice of the forest was now pleading, “I PROMISE YOU, IT IS VERY FRIGHTENING!”

“I’m sure it is!” Rincewind yelled back as his foot unfortunately got stuck on an upright tree root.

“WAIT, I KNOW THAT VOICE!”

The figure became clearer as it walked closely to the wizard. It then stumbled forwards as it tripped onto its oversized beard. He quickly stood up, face covered now in mud and twigs clustering on his head, “You’re that not-demon-RINCEWIND!”

“Eric?!” Rincewind surprised himself by remembering the name, “And it’s WIZARD Rincewind, mind you!”

The boy looked up, “It says Wizzard , though.”

Off into the distance, a lone wolf howled into the night. Rincewind instinctively ran the opposite way, only to once again tripped onto the same root that trapped his foot not too long ago.

“Oh, did you mess with my shield system?” 

“Your what?” Rincewind replied in confusion.

Eric walked forwards. “Here’s what you did, see?”

 As the fog settled down, Rincewind noticed that Eric had set up some sort of circle around a little hut not that far away from them. The shape seemed to be made of salt and stones. Only, it looked like Rincewind had caused some of the salt to cause a gap. Eric reached into his pouch and produced another scoop of salt and sealed the shape back.

“It is very neat!” Eric replied joyfully as he was proud of his own work, “Keeps demons out.”

“That’s nice,” Rincewind said nonchalantly, “What about wolves?”

“Oh.” said Eric, “Step a bit closer, will you? You’re blocking the other circle.”

The kid lighted a match this time and dropped it onto the other circle as fire spread rapidly around them. “There we go! It will die down by next morning.” 

The two stare at the crimson fire happening outside of them. The wizard looked behind him to see the crudely made hut standing neatly in the center of the inner circle.

“I’m guessing this is the part where you ask me for tea and tell me what sort of adventures you had in the past couple of years?”

“No tea, I’m afraid.” The boy replied.

“Oh. Good cause I-”

 “Soup is more preferred, as a demonologist.”

The wizard’s expression did not change.

“...lovely.”

Chapter Text

Rincewind was handed some strange concoction served onto a wooden cup. He nervously smiled as he took it out of hospitality’s hands. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Remarked Eric as he poured the same content in another cup.

Rincewind touched some of the floating orbs in his drink. He debated within himself if they were either eyeballs or some strange peeled grapes. 

“How I said to Death I never encountered the same people I met before, and then you showed up?” 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Replied Rincewind as he put aside the drink, “So, you were saying?”

Eric jumped from his chair in excitement as he rushed to rummage through his shelves. Rincewind took that moment to splash his drink through the window. Just in case, he peeked to see if the liquid disintegrates the grass*. 

*It didn’t.

“I was talking to this friend of mine,” Eric went on, “And just this morning, he mentioned your name! Isn’t that some sort of coincidence?”

“Coin-ci-dence is part of my life, really.” Mumbled Rincewind, “It likes to be called bad luck, by the way.”

Eric wasn’t really paying much attention to Rincewind’s reply as he was focused on finding a particular object. He shouted a very loud “Ah-HA!” and returned to the wizard sitting at the table.

“Seeing as you’re a  self-proclaimed-wizard,” Eric stated, “I figured you know how these things work.”

“Well, of course! I’m a wizard so-”

“Great!” Responded the boy as he opened his hand, “Here he is!”

Eric produced the found object onto Rincewind’s palm. The wizard professionally observed the object carefully, inspected every little corner of it, weighted it in his hand, and tapped it a few times. A regular wizard from the Unseen University would have just taken the object and would just poke it and throw it on the ground. Magic does not like to be bothered, so throwing it is a very effective way to determine its identity. The aftermath of waking that spell, however, is not planned. Nonetheless, Rincewind decided to go against the teachings of the faculty, and just slightly lowered it down and placed it gently on the table.

“I, as a trained professional wizard, that I am,” Proclaimed Rincewind in a calm voice, “Am saddened that I have to tell you this…”

“What?”

“That’s a rock.”

Eric held onto the blue rock which was painted with strange swirly lines. 

“It is not.” The boy responded. Rincewind stared at him, concerned in a way, but also as a parental figure who claimed to know better. Eric held his head down. 

“Okay, it is a rock.” He confessed, “But not just any rock! It’s a Communicational Stone!”

Of course.

 It is always wizards and any magically inclined folk who after finding some object, would just switch words around and voila you have now called a pencil, The Wand of Summoning Words . 

“So, a talking rock then?” Rincewind responded.

“Look,” Eric held the rock closer to him, “Once I do the proper procedure, and take a nap, this rock will light up, and my friend will appear! Honest!”

The wizard tapped the boy’s shoulder in reassurance, “I know the world in Hell was tough and all, but things like that don’t make any-”

Quickly, Eric produced a small bag of strange powder onto Rincewind’s nose. 

Rincewind’s vision blurred as his body started to feel light. The swirls from the stone looked like it was getting bigger. Every color of the rainbow swirled alongside the wizard as his body gently laid back. 

Rincewind went to sleep. 

…

A picture book. 

That’s how Rincewind could describe this world. The same swirls found in the rock were the same style that overtook the scenery within his dream.

Dream? Rincewind hesitated. Was he really in a dream? Or teleported onto some kind of realm? The wizard looked around. Everything seemed bright and fuzzy all around him. Any time he turned his head, he caught things blooming as the world separated for just a fraction to let new drawings settle. 

He inspected the grass and the air around him. Everything was soft, the wizard concluded, but also safe . 

But nothing is ever safe with him, so Rincewind tapped onto Eric’s shoulder, “Where are we?”

That’s when he noticed that his hands were see-through. Even Eric was transparent as his finger went through him. They aren’t part of this world. They were just its visitors. 

“And um…we’re not trespassing,” Said the wizard cautiously, “Are we?”

“Of course not,” Said Eric as he walked around, “Come on, we should look for the source.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea-Hey!”

Eric launched up into the air as his body landed miles ahead onto a crayon-like hill. He bounced up and reached another hill ahead, 

“Remember you’re dreaming, Wizard!” Eric’s voice echoed across the world, “Just go with it!”

Rincewind grunted. He tried what he did best and sprinted forwards, only to find the ground becoming slippery like a loose carpet. The wizard landed onto grass as the lines of the world waved his body around like jello.

He couldn't help but notice that while everything is alive and moving, that’s where it ends. Every thing . Not every one . There wasn’t really a sign of life anywhere except the things that this so-called-friend of Eric’s has created for himself. 

Rincewind was expecting some horrible entity to float in the sky, arms apart, and welcoming him to this world of wonders. That all of this was just a trap for Rincewind and had used Eric as a way to get its victims. 

That would be what Rincewind expected. That was the predictable fate that Rincewind has memorized. That was what would have been in store for Rincewind’s unfortunate agenda. 

Except, what he got was a little light pull from his robe behind him, as a dove-like voice rose from the strange figure.

“You made it.” 

Rincewind turned around, and saw nothing. 

He then lowered his head down and saw a child. A child whose smile was like he was once trapped in his room for the rest of his life and has now bursted the door open and spread his imagination as loud as he could. Though that analogy was no meer exaggeration, seeing as this description fitted the boy’s origins.

“I…” Rincewind coughed as his eyes stared at Coin for a while, “Could say the same thing about you.”

Chapter Text

There was something about this place that Rincewind reminded him of. The memories of a little picture book began to unfold. Not of the place nor whoever gave him that book, but just the image of one single page. A sourcerer whose hands spread wide apart as the magic around him flowed colorfully across the page. It was that single image that has given Rincewind that glimmer of self-discovery. It is what led him to become a wizard in the first place.Rarely has Rincewind reminisced of a past where he wasn't a wizard. Much less, a memory where he wasn't running for his life. It made him questioned where had all this bad luck started. And...if it was even possible to have that small feeling of not looking out for any danger or being scared. Just his eyes glued to a book, unaware of the world outside. He felt rather guilty of having that feeling. He even remembered the sillier times where his young self wished to be that figure in the book.

And it is what Coin has become. It is what this world is. 

There stood Rincewind, a wizard of no magic, and a little kid who has all the magic in the world. What would have happened if their lives were switched? To live in the fantasy that Rincewind always dreamed of? He didn’t have to imagine. 

Rincewind looked around. A world of just magic. A world that lives on one singular page. Never to flip on the other side. For Rincewind, it felt…kinda lonely. With all the magic in the world, Rincewind won't possibly be able to replicate that warmth and the comically banter that happens in the Mended Drum. There won't be a morning where Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler would try to sell him questionable meats at a fair price, or that isolated but cozy solitude that the library in the Unseen University provided, nor its librarian.

Coin raised his hands as plush chairs manifested from the ground to his two visitors. For himself, he sat on a large tree stump and wiggled his legs happily as he stared at the two with his golden brown eyes.

“Oh! Drinks!” Coin gasped, “That’s what’s missing!”

He clapped his hands together as a little cloud shaped all the drink he could conjure up.

Eric waved his arm, “Lemonade sounds great, friend!”

Pop! Lemonade with a handful of ice cubes landed onto Eric’s grip. Coin moved his head towards the other guest, “Do you fancy one of those adult drinks? A cup of beer, perhaps?”

“No, thank you…” Rincewind waved the little cloud away from his face, “I’m still flavoring Eric’s uh…delicious mystery soups from earlier, thank you all the same.”

“A cup of water perhaps, then?” Asked Coin as his eyes were holding Rincewind’s guilt hostage. 

“Water would be nice!” Rincewind quickly responded, “Thank you.”

He couldn’t find an opening to throw the drink in secrecy, so Rincewind had no choice but to drink it. He was surprised that it was just regular old water. Just without the pesky muddy-flavor. So really, this water was the most water that Rincewind has ever tasted in his whole life.

“You must have so many questions for me, do you not?” Coin asked.

“Well, um…” 

“After I escaped the Dungeon Dimension because of you,” Coin explained without much of Rincewind’s response, “I fixed my mistakes. And I decided to create this world. For myself.”

Rincewind jumped in place as Coin teleported from behind him and pulled onto his robe,

“Go on!” He said cheerfully,  “Ask me anything! I’ll make it for you!”

“I um…okay uh…” Rincewind struggled as he wasn’t good at talking to children, “Some new pair of socks would be nice.”

Coin chuckled and produced some red-colored socks with star patterns on them, “I can produce a brick if you'd like to continue that fight.”

“No, I’m okay with just the socks thank you.” 

I must be dreaming! He scratched his head, but actually, according to Eric he WAS dreaming. So what can he do? Wake up? What kind of danger would his body be if he doesn’t? Actually, now thinking about it… when was the last time he slept? Sleeping is nice and all, but Rincewind has learned something valuable about the art of wakefulness: 

The more times you close your eyes, the more you’ll miss the danger coming straight at you. 

“Excuse me,” Rincewind stepped away and dragged Eric along, “He just made me socks.”

“I can see that.” Eric replied, “Are they not your size?”

“No, it’s not that! They fit like a glove!” Rincewind shouted, until he remembered he wasn’t alone and lowered his voice, “Fit like a sock, I mean.”

“Look..uh….oh!” Rincewind leaned closer at whisper length, “He’s making wishes, isn’t he? And yet, you’re not like…asking him for any like…I don’t know, riches? babes? the whole ruling the world thing?

“Oooh, that!” Eric laughed, “Oh, no I’m way past that!” 

“What do you mean?” Rincewind glared as Coin just walked casually at their not-so-secret conversation.

“Well, the thing is…those wishes were something I wanted because everyone else wanted it, you know?” Eric explained, “Everyone in my town just, constantly going Eric, when are you getting a girl? Eric, when are you getting a real job? Eric, why are you such a lazy piece of-”

Rincewind immediately blocked Coin’s ears as Eric was mumbling in silence. Rincewind shook his head no as Coin laughed at the exchange.

“....Anyways, those things were just someone else’s wishes. And I believed ‘em.” Eric sank his shoulders, “I thought I wanted them.”

Coin stepped in and placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulders, “Our wishes and destinies had been shaped by someone else’s.But it shouldn’t define what we are underneath it all.”

A moment of philosophical silence flowed through the timeless breeze.

“Is it really that simple?” Rincewind asked, much more to himself than the crowd around him.

“May, I?” Coin extended a hand and pointed at the wizard’s head. “I wish to see the world and what’s become of it.”

Rincewind hesitated, there’s been times where cursed books and animated hats took a peek at his mind. Only, he was always close to death in those times. If something were to happen now, in this peaceful looking world, then it would probably be a good way to go about it. The wizard sighed as he leaned down on the ground and said, “Alright.”

They both closed their eyes. Coin could see all the events that occurred on the wizard’s timeline. All the failures, all the chaos, and all the little moments where he was at death’s door steps, unfolded within himself. 

“You have lived a pretty interesting life.” Coin pointed out, “To unknown lands, impossible dimensions, to even being in the far ends of the universe itself.”

“Look, I know what you’re about to say, but-”

“It must have been awful.”

“...why, thank you.”

…

Far away in the forest, a group of hooded figures observed the various footprints left on the ground.

The leader of the pack crouched down on one knee as he dipped his finger in the soft muddled floor. He lifted it up and gave it a strong whiff. It really was pointless, but someone had to do it for the whole atmosphere of the thing. At least he hesitated in giving it a taste sample.

“The box.” Said the leader, “It’s been here.”

“Gosh,” responded one of his minions, “You can tell all that with just a whiff?”

The leader pointed far off into the distance. It looked like the owner of those footprints rested, leaving a wide rectangular hole in the mud. Afterwards, the trail goes back to tiny little feet marching straight forwards. 

“Yes, I’m pretty sure.” He stood up and lowered his hoodie. The man was bald, but he covered that up with the number II marked on his forehead. He had to find someone to take out one of the lines, now that he has ascended after the whole fire fiasco a while back. It might look uneven, but everyone would know who is in charge.

“Men!” He shouted, “We find the box, we find the Wizard! We find the Wizard, we find our Orb!”

The group cheered in unison.

“We will not rest! We will not eat! We will find the Orb of Knowledge until our very last breath!”

“I prefer to breathe, to be honest.” Whispered one of the minions in silence, “It comes with living, after all.”

“Everyone!” Shouted the leader, the group stiffed in place. He swung his sword and aimed at the setting sun, where the footprints continue on the other side, “Forwards!”

The group vanishes in the distance, leaving their own trail behind as well.

…

Even further back, little demons looked over some of the same footprints. They were very confused about the additional number of feet that came along with it. 

“The wizard has an army!” Shouted the youngest demon of the group, “We’re doomed!”

“Not doomed!” 

The demons turned their little head towards the voice. While it appeared to be the shortest of the group, it made up with its longest looking horns sitting on top of its head. He moved to the front of his army and turned towards them.

“I, Killer Buzz the Second,” Said the leader, “Promises you, revenge will be all the sweeter once that Wizard is dead!”

The army cheered.

“Do not fear those shoes!” He pointed, “They are but lesser beings! What we make in size, we make up for it in numbers!”

The army cheered loudly. 

“We will not rest until we feast on the blood of our enemy!”

“Yes!!!”

“We will honor Lord Beetlebuzz’s death! His past might have been lies, but his legacy will be the truth!”

“Yess!!!”

“And if push comes to shove, all younger demons will be the first to be used as bait!”

“Y…”

The sound wave of the crowd died, but quickly found the momentum again, “...yay?”

Killer Buzz nodded in reassurance as he turned his back and pointed his pitchfork straight ahead.

“Forwards!”

The little army of demons marched. Their bodies were visible until reaching the far end of the grassy hill.

Chapter Text

Coin lifted up his drink as he processed the stories that Rincewind had explained, while the wizard himself mumbled and complained in the background.

“A luck sink, you say?” Coin replied, ”…very interesting.”

Rincewind stood up. He didn’t know how to talk to children, but he had a thought that grown-ups shouldn’t tell their problems of the world to a child. Yet, he saw a glimmer in Coin’s eyes, as if he could read his mind easily.

“It does not bother me, Master Rincewind.” The boy smiled.

“ Ma-Master?! ” Rincewind gasped, “R-Rincewind is just fine, really!”

“You have saved my life, so I’ll try to do the same.” Coin’s eyes shined as little words and numbers flashed around him. Rincewind walked back to his seat, but turned his back away from the boy, hands crossed.

“Have you ever tried?” Coin suggested, “To know why your life is the way it is?”

“I understand plenty,” Rincewind answered as he swatted the air, “Gods have their little fun in making my life miserable. Just a typical Tuesday for me. Running seems to speed these things along, quite nicely!”

“That is not trying, Mister Rincewind.” Coin’s hand glowed and made Rincewind’s body turn to look at him, “Tell me, what made you be a wizard?”

“I…” 

He could feel it. After all, he was a wizard yesterday, he’ll be a wizard tomorrow. That is what has always been. Hasn’t it?

“That’s cause I am.” Rincewind replied.

Coin floated straight towards the wizard’s eyes, to try to detect any lies. “Who told you that?”

“I don’t understand.”

Coin kept his smile as he let go of the wizard from his magic hold. He took a moment to breathe and stepped back. The boy raised his two fingers and aimed them high in the sky. He crunched the sun between his fingertips and moved the day below the horizon line. The colors of the world faded to a cool night. And as Coin snapped his fingers, the moon appeared and took the sun’s place to light up the night.

“I became a sourcerer because it is that word that my father has obsessively tried to put into my brain.” Coin explained as his eyes glowed in a brighter hue of gold, “ Not because it is what I truly am. My destiny was warped to become his. And his alone. But you made me see that. And now, his written destiny has gone, and now it was me that made the choice.”

“I don’t think anyone has told me to become a wizard, no.” Rincewind replied with a bit of uncertainty now lingering in the air.

“Really?” Coin asked as he leaned forwards, “Have you ever thought about your own past?”

He hasn’t. Rincewind never tried. Sure, he jokingly said to the other staff members that his mother ran away from him before he was born. Which was true. But the others never bothered to ask followed-up questions. He never bothered to ask himself either. 

Rincewind was lost in his thoughts, and Coin seemed to be satisfied by it. The boy backed away and sat on his stump, “I suggest maybe stop running away, and try finding out more of your past. Then, perhaps, lingering questions can appease the future of your life.”

“Ehhh, that sounds like a quest,” Rincewind gulped nervously, “And, really, those don’t really go my way.”

“What about a request ?” Coin replied as rest his hand on his own chest, “Not from one wizard to another, but as a friend?”

“A friend?” Rincewind replied dumbfounded.

Coin nodded. Rincewind sat on the grassy hills as the weight of the world gently eased him down. The night sky whispered around them as Rincewind contemplated. 

“Have you ever wished to get out into the world again?” Rincewind asked the boy as he began to gaze at the constellations in the sky. They were all there, same as his own. It was a beautiful sight, regardless. 

“I did, but- I guess it’s something you can understand.” Coin chuckled quietly, “The world is just…not shaped right. Not for a sourcerer.” 

He understood. Rincewind has always imagined a world where things are different. But can never put it into words. 

Harnessing lightning? Please. But it made sense. For him . Nonsensical sense!

“The world isn’t exactly as it once was, you know.” Rincewind declared as he lightly tapped on his forehead, “If you ever decide to leave, there could be an open spot for you at the University….”

“Where I can learn from the professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography?” The boy giggled.

“I mean, there’s some other more interesting classes but, well you know. My door’s always open if you ever decide to come.”

“That would be nice,” Coin made a small bow, “ Professor Rincewind.”

A smile escaped from the wizard, and the world shrank.

Everything was being erased all around them. Eric was holding onto his seat as his body flew away in a circular motion, “Looks like someone’s waking up!”

As Rincewind’s own body was flying away, Coin lifted his hands up to his mouth and shouted from the other side, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Professor!” The boy yelled,  “Gods are only powerful if we believe them to be!”

“I don’t know what that means!” Rincewind replied as he tried to hold onto his hat as his feet were running on an invisible treadmill.

“You’ll understand later!” The boy continued, “Remember your past, Professor! Challenge the Gods! Ask the questions!”

“W-What questions?!”

The world expanded into a vacuum, all swirled into the bowels of whiteness.

And then,

Rincewind woke up.

…

He wasn’t in the forest anymore. But has woken up to the sound of half-worn-down boots stomping the ground. It is only as he looked down that he realized it was his own feet marching. Rincewind looked back, and saw the many footprints left on his automatic travel.

Ah, this seemed to be a case of Sleep-Running. Condition only ever found on one person.

Still, his feet had brought him into a place of no danger, so Rincewind thanked his legs. 

He managed to take control now and slowed down. Rincewind stopped for a moment and tried to process what just happened. It was rather strange seeing Eric and Coin again. The wizard didn’t know what to feel about them, to be honest. And yet, there’s that feeling there on the backdoor of his heart. It felt rather empty.

The wizard looked down at his feet, the star-pattered socks still worn. As well as Coin's voice echoing back at him: Running away is not trying.

But running was the only thing that the wizard knew it works. Why try to change that? There's no other choice but to keep running forwards, right? Isn't that how the saying goes?

...

Traveling down the road, Rincewind managed to spot a village. Even better, the first building he saw was a tavern! Finally, civilization! The wizard ran forwards. He quickly slid into a halt at the Tavern’s door. 

Okay, let’s think about this. Rincewind thought, This is good news. Which means, something of opposite value is going to happen the minute I open the door.

He opened it, and a body just flew out past him. Another pair of flying sharp objects appeared as Rincewind tried his best to dodge them, but they all just took their anger onto his hat. As he walked towards the bar, a few brawl fights were taking place as others cheered along for the results. 

Ah, the dangers of a Tavern brawl, Rincewind thought. It’s like a coin, really. it’s a 50/50 chance you’ll get an average bad day, or a really really bad day.

Almost reminds him of home.

Chapter Text

Directions. 

That is the main goal here.

Just get in and out.

Right…

Let’s do this.

Rincewind maneuvered his way through the frenetic swarm of lively customers, each seeking for their next playmate. Amidst the chaos of The Brawl, where nothing seemed safe from the ongoing mayhem—be it food, axes, or furniture—a trio of bards had their own little spot reserved in the bar. their melodies played with temptations of a gold coin and the promise of one's organs to be fully intact for tomorrow. The rhythm of anyone-that-gets-punched-in-the-face always managed to get them an encore.

The wizard found solace at the bar, amidst a sea of thugs and bandits drinking in silent solidarity. To his left sat a figure, struggling to extract the last remnants of a drink through a straw lodged in an empty glass. Before Rincewind could speak his mind, a body crashed beside him.

"Oops, my bad!" A voice as sweet as honey interjected, swiftly dispatching the unconscious body back into the fray. Rincewind was momentarily dumbfounded as he beheld the blonde woman's audacious display.

“Do I know you?” Conina grinned knowingly. 

This would have sparked something in the wizard, having encountered her in similar circumstances before. He stopped to think as to why there’s no lingering affection. The theory floating right now would be because the wizard might have mixed arousal with nervousness that one time. Though he couldn't deny her beauty—her golden hair cascading like a swan's gentle plumage, her porcelain skin aglow in the flickering firelight—It was surprising that none of this excited the wizard in the slightest. 

"I-I can't believe this!" Rincewind exclaimed. "I thought you were set to being a hairstylist!"

"Oh, but I am!" Conina replied gleefully, punctuating her response with a swift punch to a nearby bandit's face. The assailant was promptly launched into the air, eliciting interest from a group of swordsmen.

"But I don't understand," Rincewind persisted as Conina deftly deflected a sword strike with her armlet and retaliated with a decisive blow. "I thought you had moved on from the hero business!"

Cornina dispatched another foe with a well-placed elbow to the teeth before she gave a quick shrug. "It’s a side job.”

“I’m sorry, I might have misheard that.” Replied Rincewind as he enunciated his next words carefully, “Being a hero…is a side job?”

The incessant slurping from the neighboring patron grew increasingly annoying. Rincewind could now discern the sound of ice cubes clinking against the glass as the figure played with them until it melted. Before he could voice his irritation, Conina landed a scabbard onto the table and launched herself to a high kick onto someone’s stomach.

“I figured you can’t really escape destiny." Conina explained, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

As she settled beside Rincewind, a collective sigh emanated from the back.

"Heroism is what I was born with," Conina continued, taking a bite of a fried ostrich leg. "But that doesn’t mean I have to be the type of hero my father is, you know."

"You mean not pillaging a whole city, stealing gold, getting babes, that sort?" Rincewind interjected.

"Exactly," Conina affirmed, her grip tightening around a newly acquired beer. “I can be a new type of hero—one that has time to be REALLY good at styling hair."

As Cornina demonstrated her snipping skills, a unison of neck gulping echoed through the tavern. 

“I figured, hey! If I’m doomed to a life of danger and styling hair,” She continued, “What better place could serve both if not a tavern?”

And she was right. There’s no better place to meet some colorful weapon-savvy characters than a pub. Not to mention, all these scheduled tavern brawls always lead to a lot of hair pulling. Someone has to be there to sort things out. It was the perfect plan.

"You understand that, right?" Conina turned to Rincewind, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Seeing as you’re a hero yourself?"

Rincewind quickly recoiled, “You-You take that back!”

“I’m sorry,” Cornina chuckled, “How many times have you saved the world?”

Rincewind slumped back and watched the ceiling.His fingers counting and his mouth mumbling something as he caught himself in the act.

“That doesn’t make me like Cohen!” The Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography declared proudly, “Heroes and Wizards, they’re just two different species*! They go like…water and fire! Or…or-or toothpaste and orange juice!”

*Many of the Discworld’s magical phenomenons and irregularities stemmed from the thousand year old Mage Wars. So, while someone hires wizards for some helpful assistance, it’s really much like getting them to fix whatever they broke in the first place. Wizards are just clever enough to at least get paid to do it. Or in most cases, not to do it.

"Well, now that I have your attention," Conina rose from her seat, gesturing toward Rincewind. "That is a mess I can’t ignore."

"Is the beard too long?" Rincewind inquired sheepishly, “I am a wizard after all.”

"Is personal hygiene part of it?" Conina retorted with a smirk.

“Well, in some ways-HEY!”

Rincewind bristled as Conina combed through the chaotic mess of the wizard’s beard and tied it carefully with a bow. A yellow cloth appeared from inside the lady’s satchel as it now was placed around him. For much that Rincewind could complain, he knew the girl meant well. That and having a sharp object around him made him very complaisant. 

As The Brawl resumed its frenzy, Conina shifted into work mode. Her focus unwavering amidst the chaos. Rincewind could only just sit still as he felt his face feel lighter every time the scissors snipped his hair. He started to worry when someone accidentally pushed Conina slightly to the left.

“Ooops,” Conina sang innocently, “Don’t worry, I can even that out.”

“Wha-what happened?” 

“Nothing I can’t fix,” Replied Conina as she held Rincewind’s head in place, “Just sit still, and don’t move.”

As the snipping continued, Rincewind spotted a little gold ring resting on Corinna's fourth finger. Good for her , he thought to himself. The wizard let the hair cutting to continue without complaints. 

“It’s a good thing you showed up,” Conina whispered as she concentrated, “I was feeling a bit bored having the same clientele.”

“You haven’t done any actual hero stuff?” Rincewind asked curiously. “When was the last time you did dungeon crawls, or-”

Conina snorted with a laugh, “A dungeon crawl?”

“Well-”

“You mean going into a cavern in the middle of the woods just to find out we just intruded on some poor Orc's house?”

“Orc?”

The annoying sucking of the straw grew intensely next to him. 

“Surprising, right?” Conina turned Rincewind’s face to the right as she worked on the sideburns, “Who would have thought orcs being so cultured nowadays?”

Rincewind scuffed, “Well, we do have a very gentleman orc at my University. He is our goalkeeper. Really nice guy.”

“How about that?” Conina smiled.

“I know!” Rincewind returned the expression, “We really are living in interesting ti-WOULD YOU STOP THAT?”

The straw biter that sat next to him was staring at him intensively with black voided eyes. A cold air began to flow around him or in this case, through him. 

YES?

A hand appeared from the bar and had given Death another drink. He eyed the white substance and the little lemon decoration carefully. He reached into his robes and brought out a little pink umbrella to match the aesthetic of the glass.

Rincewind watched the figure cautiously, “Long day at work, is it?”

A SMALL BREAK DOESN’T HURT NOW AND THEN.

“Uh-huh…”

Conina leaned in, “Wizard, who are you talking to?”

“Oh, just the personification of DEATH who is drinking what I believe to be Coco Loco.” Rincewind answered, “He’s here just to tell me how nice the weather is.”

Conina played along, “What, like you’re pals with Death or something?”

They both turned slowly to look at each other in synchronized form.

“Something of the sort, yes-” Rincewind responded quickly and added, “Could I get a mirror?”

Conina left her seat and went to fetch the item. 

SHE’S WELL WITH THE BLADE, AS I AM WITH THE SCYTHE. Death commented as Rincewind had his head crashed onto the table. 

He let his fingers signal a drink to the bartender. A little bell rang and the drink slid through the table and onto his hand with ease.

IT IS VERY IMPRESSIVE, I HOPE YOU TIP THE LITTLE LADY WELL.

“Tip?” Rincewind asked worriedly as he checked all his possible pockets and non pockets, 

“Oh no.”

“I’m back!”

Their exchange was cut short as an arrow shattered the mirror in Conina's hand, signaling the arrival of unwelcome guests. 

“CONINAAAAAAA!” 

All heads from The Brawl looked up at the doorway as light surrounded the group of newcomers. Their appearance could only be described if Trolls suddenly turned human. Stone-shaped muscle men carrying crossbows and melee weaponry had their anger locked onto Conina.

“Oh, it seems that my favorite customers are back.” Conina grinned as she leaned over to the wizard, “Could you give me a hand, and make some big distraction? Can’t really attack them all at once.”

She equipped herself with razor sharpened knives on each hand and gave a little wink, “A small fireball would do.”

“Sure, alright.” Said the wizard as he gulped up his new drink and marched up to the group of bad guys. Everyone backed away as the wizard walked up closer to the newcomers. He looked straight in their eyes and puffed up as he yelled out, 

“LOOK! A DISTRACTION!”

All eyes turned away to follow the direction of where the wizard pointed. Rincewind took that time to duck and swan onto the wooden floors and escaped the bar through the forest of legs. He couldn’t quite make up what exactly happened afterwards. But due to the hundreds of screams and loud cheering meant that Conina was making a profit. 

“Pheh!” Rincewind stood up and dusted his robes as he was well outside of the tavern, “Heroes. Always making a mess of things.”

YES, I CONCUR.

“You’re still here?” Rincewind jolted in place, “I’m sure your next job is over there!”

NOT REALLY, Death answered, THE GIRL HAS BECOME MORE OF A PACIFIST WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING.

“R-really?” Rincewind asked bewildered, “Then, why?”

THE BARTENDER IS GOING TO CHOKE ON CHICKPEAS TONIGHT.

“And that requires your personal attendance, is it?” 

Death fidget with his scythe in place as he stared hard long at the ground and poke at a nearby rock. Rincewind wanted to leave. Any sane person would try to get away from Death, right? 

And yet, Coin’s words echoed in his brain.

Is there really a way to break this bad luck? 

Would he dare to run the other way and actually look for answers?

“Chickpeas, is it?” Rincewind attempted to bring somewhat of a smile.

IT IS TO DIE FOR, APPARENTLY.

“Well, I better try some before they’re gone then.” Rincewind turned his head to the tavern, the lack of screaming seemed like a good sign, “You uh…”

Rincewind really tried to muster these next words carefully. His teeth screeching to fight him from opening his own mouth, “You fancy a drink?”

Death’s cadaverous grin remained fixated on his face, 

I COULD GO FOR ANOTHER DRINK.

Chapter Text

TAP TAP TAP.

Fate flicked his finger on the projection cube and was met with endless static. The last clear image of the wizard that Fate could recall, was of him drinking some soup-like concoction. After that, Fate could no longer track the wizard. He was wary of following Death’s little suggestion, and this whole ordeal has struck his godly patience.

Fate switched channels and began to rotate the cube fretfully. His finger hovered over the screen as he set his sights on a more familiar and interesting game.

FLICK!

Off into the distance, the demon horde struggled to keep a straight line. Their stomachs rumbled as their feet danced tirelessly. They were about to lose hope, until something caught their eyes. An abandoned camp lay before them, decorated with piles of meat displayed as an all-you-can-eat-buffet. The demons praised their PLACEHOLDER GOD HERE and celebrated in unison.

FLICK!

The cultists scratched their heads as they stared at the hundreds of weapons and freshly new armor neatly placed for their eyes. Someone in their group swore that they saw it falling from the sky. But before there were any arguments, their leader spread his arms wide and thanked the Gods. Truly, this was a sign!

…

Death shivered.

A meddling disturbance lingered in the air, prickling at his senses. Death turned his attention back to the conversation that was taking place at the bar. The bartender had been going on and on about his tales, as the wizard Rincewind was struggling to keep a smile.

“And there I was right? On a ship, in the middle of a storm, even!” He exclaimed. Rincewind gulped his drink, making an enormous effort to appear engaged. Definitely not worried that this man that he sees right now, will have no problem being dea- no problem sleeping tomorrow, that’s for sure. 

Rincewind ordered his seventh drink, mentally preparing to savor this one, knowing he couldn't handle another.

“That’s really unfortunate!” Rincewind said out loud, “Please go on!”

“Hah, I’m not even at the good part!” The bartender replied with a grin, “My crew were asleep, you see? On the account that they were all affected by mermaid magic!”

“T-that's sounds more of a siren than a mermaid, but go on!” Rincewind stammered, “And definitely skip dinner! I want to really REALLY hear what happens next!”

“I’m actually getting quite hungry,” The  bartender turned to his wife, “Honey, can I have an order of Chickpea Pie?”

“Oh, Tom.” His wife sighed, “We only have enough for just one-”

“I’LL HAVE SOME CHICKPEA PIE, PLEASE!” Screamed the wizard.

“Buddy!” Replied Tom, “You already ordered 7 drinks and 5 orders of Chickpea Pie!”

“W-well, I’m a wizard, you see!” Rincewind explained, “Our stomachs lead to a different dimension really! So we eat plenty!”

“Hah! No wonder you’re so skinny looking!” Tom chuckled, “You’re almost as bony as your friend here!”

“Mary, get the last order for our skinny wizard friend here, will ya dear?”

“Right away, honey.”

The wife happily walked into the kitchen, as the husband sighed, “I’m the luckiest man in the world…”

“So, what happened?” Rincewind asked.

“Huh?”

“In the story.”

“Oh, I saved the crew. That’s how I lost my arm. Got stuck on the broken pillar of the ship. Had to cut it off so I could reach the wheel and sail to safety.”

“Gosh.”

“Yeah, what a life,” Tom said, a tear sneaking out of his eye. It puzzled the wizard that the old man was smiling. Smiling? Rincewind stared at the man’s hooked hand way longer than he should have. What a life indeed. And yet, that man’s smile showed no hint of remorse nor regrets. 

Mary returned with a large plate of chickpea pie. As she set the plate, Mary stole a little kiss onto her husband’s cheek.

“You enjoy that meal, wizard,” Tom said. “Never miss a day without eating one of my wife’s favorite dishes.”

“Yeah,” the wizard stared longingly at his plate. “I’ll… definitely savor the moment.”

The couple smiled as the bartender rang his bell, signaling for the other customers to leave. On cue, two lads exited the kitchen and began cleaning up for tomorrow.

…

The lights of the village went out one by one. Rincewind stayed outside the entrance as he set his eyes on the last remaining light of the tavern. A shadow appeared next to him, but he kept his gaze on the building.

“I think I heard about that guy.” Rincewind commented, “He was a hero.”

A MAN WHO SAVED HIS CREW.

“But, that’s not what I heard,” He replied, “The stories say he fought a giant kraken! With one hook on his hand and a sword in the other!”

HEROES' STORIES TEND TO BE ROMANTICIZED.

“But why?” Rincewind genuinely asked, “Isn’t it more relatable if we keep it grounded in reality? Tom wasn’t even his name in the story! So how is he going to be remembered for who he really was?”

THE TALES OF THE HERO WILL LIVE ON FOREVER. BUT TOM’S LIFE WILL BE TREASURED BY THOSE WHO KNEW HIM.

“Excuse me,” Mary said, appearing with her two sons, both hooded and carrying bags.

Rincewind stepped away from their path, “Oh, um sorry.”

Mary’s face was hidden from sight, but something about her made her skin glow against the shadows.She smiled politely at the wizard as Mary signaled the others, “Kids, let’s go.”

Something wasn’t right.

Rincewind knew this.

So he decided to follow them. Concealed his footsteps as much as he could so as to not startle the family from noticing him. Suddenly, the family was staring deeply at the river before them. 

Something wasn’t right, Rincewind’s mind plagued him with one dark thought. He leaped out of his hiding. An arm extended to try to reach them in time. And then,

The woman flew.

And fell in a graceful arc into the water. The splash hindered much of the woman’s figure, but Rincewind could have sworn to see a fish’s fin going in.

The two lads were preparing to follow. 

The younger one turned back and waved his arm, “Hey, come on!”

A chest with hundreds of feet wobbled happily behind them. The wizard took a second take as he dug his fingers to hold his luggage in place, “DON’T YOU DARE!”

The luggage flopped on the ground, its handles burrowing in disappointment.

“Sorry, mister.” The kid apologized, “I found it out back, thought it was one of mom’s.”

The kid, now with visible gills on his cheeks, tapped on the luggage as it opened for him. He retrieved a large pearl, which, upon a quick glance, showed an image of the old captain fading inward.

“Bye, mister!”

The wizard waved awkwardly as the boys looked at one another and jumped into the river at the same time. Their shadows dissipated as the moonlight illuminated their path.

It was quiet.

A large sigh made the wizard remember that he wasn’t alone. 

THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG PAPERWORK.

The figure hovered as Rincewind followed, “Wa-wait, what? wait wait, so what happened to the old man? Is…is he-”

The wizard made a suggestion with his hand. Death stared in confusion, 

IS YOUR NECK ITCHING, RINCEWIND?

“You know what I mean!” 

Death stopped walking. Something about his usual encounters with the wizard seem out of place. Yet, he could not understand what had changed. The air felt different. The crickets chirped into the night, and Rincewind is…

Death’s eyes lit up.

YOU’RE FOLLOWING ME, RINCEWIND.

The wizard’s eyes widened as he looked around, then at Death.

“I…” Rincewind coughed. “I believe I am.”

Rincewind held his hand to his mouth, pondering his words carefully.

“Look, I’m not blind okay?” Rincewind said, “You don’t think I won’t notice this whole situation? Having people I met before, just suddenly appear one after the other?”

Binky the horse arrives as Death folded his scythe and stored it on the saddle.

“What I don’t understand is why!” Rincewind exclaimed, “Why are you or any of the Gods showing me all this? What…what kind of lesson or destiny do I need to learn here?”

Death remained quiet.

“I mean, what’s next?” Rincewind quickly stood in shock, “Oh, no. Please, not the kangaroo. Not Fourecks!”

I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT IS A POSSIBILITY. Death pointed, IT’S SPIDER SEASON, AFTER ALL. I DON’T THINK EVEN THE GODS ARE TOO CRUEL TO PUT SOMEONE IN-

“Death…”

YES?

“This is me we’re talking about.”

THEN YES. PROBABLY.

“Oh gods.”

Rincewind walked away a few steps and began to pace back and forth. He bit his lips, wrestling with his thoughts. He stomped back towards Death and uttered the words,

“Can you…” He knew he'd regret saying this. “Can you help me?”

Death’s mouth opened. The wizard was unsure if Death was at a loss for words, shocked, or smiling in his own way.

YOU’RE ASKING ME FOR MY HELP?

Rincewind sighed. “I mean, I don’t want to take you away from any of your, uh, wonderful work, but—”

Death jumped onto the saddle as Binky neighed in response.

COME. He said, WE GO BY HORSE.

“You can… actually help me?”

I CAN FOR A FRIEND.

“........................................................................................right.”

Rincewind extended his arms and recoiled, examining the horse carefully as if it might burst into flames at any moment. Death invitingly left some space on the saddle for Rincewind to hop on. With much careful consideration, Rincewind sat opposite and tried to hold onto whatever piece of the saddle was available.

I DO APOLOGIZE, BUT THERE’S NOT ENOUGH ROOM FOR YOUR LUGGAGE.

“Oh, that.” Rincewind glanced at his luggage, which was digging its feet into the ground.

“Now listen here, you,” he said, holding up a finger. “I know you have a way to get where we’re going, so don’t look at me like that!”

The chest tilted slightly.

“I mean it,” Rincewind said sternly. “I better see both wood and feet by the time I get there, you hear?”

The chest kicked the ground.

“Good!”

Binky neighed as the ground began to stretch apart in rays of light. They were traveling at lightning speed, and yet, there was no wind to acknowledge it. Rincewind held on tight because it was the natural thing to do. But as he watched the stars and the mountains stretching, the sun and moon dancing around them, Rincewind’s grip loosened. And as he blinked, he was greeted with pure darkness.

Chapter Text

In any profession, there exists a silent, unspoken rule about work ethics that, regrettably, most people remain blissfully unaware of. And that is: one should never bring work home . The workplace stands as its own peculiar universe, while home, in most cases, is known as the sanctuary zone. It's advisable not to muddle these two realms; otherwise, you won't know where each of these starts or ends. Before you know it, Betty from Accounting will be well aware that the bite mark on your neck wasn't from an escaped zoo snake with an uncanny ability to leap.

No, it's best to keep these two worlds as distinct as possible, aided by that little switch in our minds that signals when the workday is done. These cues could be as simple as changing one's clothes or indulging in personal hobbies. And you can never go wrong with a nice cup of tea and some light reading.

It was by this unspoken rule that Rincewind made a rather significant discovery within Death’s Domain: you can’t really die there. Not because of some mystical law that prevents it, but because it would be considered rude . Death, like all the workers in the universe, tries his best not to take work home with him.

Death’s Domain existed outside the bounds of time, untouched by decay and change. It was also, quite frankly, rather dull. Yet, Rincewind’s little hummingbird heart found an odd sort of comfort in the stillness.

You can’t die here, Rincewind thought, no accidents, no twists of fate, a world stuck in limbo. Stuck in time. If he runs now, he’ll only be back the way he started. Now the most challenging part in all of this is… to make small talk.

“Is, um…” Rincewind’s finger wavered uncertainty over some random bushes, “Is that a new shade of gray there?”

YES, Death replied, turning his flaming azure gaze towards the wizard. NO ONE REALLY NOTICES, THOUGH.

“It really, um…” The wizard coughed, trying to fill the silence. “It really complements the, uh… ambiance.”

"INDEED."

…

…

…

“LUGGAGE!” Rincewind shouted at the void, “LUGGAGE!”

To Rincewind's considerable relief, the Luggage appeared on the horizon and trundled back to his side. For an enchanted piece of furniture, the Luggage seemed to be less talkative than usual.

“Well, there you are. Right. All in one piece, I see,” Rincewind muttered, mostly to himself. “Shall we, um, get going?”

In an unexisting second later, the door closes behind them. The inside of the house was also as dull as the world outside. Rincewind couldn’t help but focus on the lighting. There were too many candles in place just to light up a hypothetical darkness. Without any Sun or moon, each window inside seemed to depict different times of day, while the inside of the house remained unchanged by it. 

WOULD YOU LIKE A CUP OF TEA, RINCEWIND?

“Do I assume this tea is to DIE for?” 

VERY AMUSING, RINCEWIND. Said Death, without a hint of amusement. He moved ahead of the wizard and turned down a corridor. AND YES.

As Death departed the room, Rincewind finally exhaled, feeling the weight of reality settle back around him.

“Why am I doing this?” Rincewind asked his own reflection through a set of mirrors hanging on the wall, “This isn’t what I usually do, is it?”

The wizard paced back and forth. His own adventures, which he had no say in the matter, had some sort of narrative theme. When he sees what could possibly be a world-ending problem, he leaves. Then, with a little bit of twists and knobs, the wizard would face that said world-ending problem, and boom! It somehow got fixed. Rince and Repeat. Rince and Repeat. Rince…

“I see the Master has brought a guest over.” An ill-stained voice echoed from across a room, “How delightful…”

Rincewind jumped at the sight of him. He thought Death would live alone. It was strange that there was another human here. Actually, if memory serves, there was a little girl the last time he was here.  But something was oddly familiar about this old man. Perhaps he saw him somewhere…in a portrait of some kind? Or maybe…

“Rincewind, was it?” Asked Albert without pausing for a reply, “The Master has some paperwork to be done in his study. You’re free to roam about.”

Rincewind followed the servant of Death, “Um…have we-”

“If you’re looking for the toilet, just pull open a door. The room will manifest if you REALLY want to go. The Master is very proud of its decor.”

They ended up entering a little study room. A desk sat on the center of it, while a small untidy bed lay just next to it. Everything seemed to be gray and dull just like every corner of this place. Everything except some red and green elf shoes decorated with jingle bells at the tip, just below the bed. They look rather cozy, to be honest.

“Um, who exactly are-”

“I know dang well what you are, see.” The old man sat on his desk as he pulled out a pipe from the drawer.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He puffed, the smoke fleeing from his enlarged nostrils, “You’re here to replace me, aren’t you?”

Rincewind blinked several times as his mouth tried to comprehend his words.

“Well, I ain’t going, ya hear.” Albert continued on without interruptions, “I took too long to get this gig.”

“I’m not really-”

“ Immortality .” Continued Albert as he puffed three smoke rings at the ceiling, “It’s what every legendary wizard truly seeks. Yes, there’s power, but can’t do much about it if you’re dead afterwards. Took a lot of trouble talking to the guy and asking for a job here. And no one’s gonna take it away. And especially not some accidental-prone cowardly weasel-”

“Wizard-” 

Albert slams his fists on the table, “Oh you think you’re clever, don’t ya?”

“Not really,” Replied Rincewind truthfully, “Aren’t you Alberto Malich, by any chance? Founder of Unseen Uni-”

“Yeah,” said Albert, spitting a glob of saliva into a bucket, “I’ve been there once. Not really what I wanted to see. Not to mention, some daft student there took my staff!”

“Oh.” Realization dawned on Rincewind.

“You, uh…” Albert leaned in, hope glimmering in his elderly eyes, “You wouldn’t happen to know if they’ve put up a new statue of me, would ya? Or what became of my staff?”

“Uhhh…”

Yes, Rincewind thought in the quiet sanctuary of his mind. The last time he saw that staff, it had been repurposed as a coat rack and occasionally as the Librarian’s personal back scratcher. As for the statue, it was rather small, squeezed into a dungeon with the inscription, “We Shall Not See His Like Again.”

“Oh, you know us wizards.” Rincewind fibbed with all the sincerity he could muster, “Quite a large statue, really! You probably can’t even see it—Cause…it’s so big!”

“Good!” Albert relaxed in his chair as a smile spread with wizardly pride.

“Look, between you and me,” The old man leaned and lowered his voice, “The Master can get a bit eh…bored with his line of work.”

“Bored?” Rincewind asked in surprise, “Death?”  

“I know, I know.” Albert sighed, “And unfortunately, that always leads him to make little poking around in the Discworld.”

“Well,” Rincewind shrugged casually, “Gods do that all the time, don’t they?”

“No.” Albert responded wearily, “Gods trick people just for the fun of it. Death, well, he just wants to make sense of it all.”

“Sense?” Rincewind mulled over his past encounters with Death, attempting to piece them together like a disjointed collage. Sure, Death had appeared and frightened him more times than he could count, always claiming to be there just to observe . Same old routine— Rince and repeat. And much like the wizard, Death has become tired of it. And wanted to do a little change in the routine.

It appeared to Rincewind that, much like his garden or his peculiarly decorated bathrooms, Death wanted to become into something else—something more… humane. But surely, an entity couldn’t truly express emotions! Imitation, perhaps, but to genuinely understand and make sense of them? Rincewind wasn’t sure. He had never really bothered to understand Death—or even to view him as a “guy.”

“You could call it justice,” Albert went on, “But the Master would argue against calling it that. And to be honest, his little poking about is much more dangerous than any Gods meddling. I'd be afraid if I were you.”

“Oh, that’s no problem at all!” Rincewind shouted with a bit of pride himself, “I’m afraid all the time!”

“Well, that’s good!”

The door behind Rincewind creaked open, revealing a pair of legs. The owner stood up and widened the door to allow the Luggage to enter. Rincewind noticed that the Luggage moved with an oddly uneasy walk, as if it had been unsettled by an unspoken dread. As he touched the wooden surface, a cold sensation immediately spread through his fingers.

“You know,” Albert said, rising and rummaging through his storage closet, “it could make a great staff.”

The Luggage leaned in and nudged the wizard’s leg, sending a similar chill through Rincewind’s mind.

“Sapient Pearwood in such quantity,” Albert continued to search, “Who knows, it would probably be enough to make an incompetent wizard such as yourself make a decent fireball. Now where did my tools go? Ah, there it is.”

Albert retrieved a metal contraption and hefted it onto the desk with a crash. He turned a lever on its side, and hundreds of tiny metal teeth began whirling at a maddening speed.

“Alright, let’s get started,” said the old man, now donning safety goggles.

The Luggage’s handles quivered in place as Rincewind recoiled from the shrieking edges of the contraption. The Luggage- HIS luggage-stood perfectly still, no matter how much Rincewind tried to push it back. It remained in place.

There were two kinds of being frightened, Rincewind knew. Much like the “Flight or Fight” response, there exists another set of reactions not widely known: “Fright or Freeze.” Rincewind considered himself a master of the Fright response. When danger loomed, he turned and fled the opposite way as quickly as possible. Freeze , however, was the unfortunate reaction the Luggage was experiencing for the first time.

“W-wait, hold on. Hold ON!” Rincewind flailed frantically at the crazed man. “This is my Luggage!”

The monstrous machine slowed as its owner lifted his goggles to his forehead.

“What kind of wizard would be foolish enough to leave perfectly good Sapient Pearwood lying around?”

“Me!” Rincewind exclaimed, surprisingly. “And if it just so happens that I DO have a staff, it’s a bit… box-shaped, with a penchant for occasional murdering, AND requires a coat of linseed oil five times a week! Thank you very much!”

Rincewind desperately shoved the Luggage out of the room and slammed the door shut. He urged the Luggage to keep up as they rounded a corner and tumbled down together.

The wizard’s shocked hands covered his face as Rincewind’s eyes remained wide open. “I can’t believe I just did that!”

It’s this place! Rincewind thought, having no repercussions of death in this realm, has made him to be someone he won’t have dared to be. It’s like being drunk! 

The Luggage, now back to its energetic self, had its mahogany tongue out, patting with delight.

“What?” asked the wizard wearily. “Don’t look at me like that.”

The Luggage’s tongue stretched out and enthusiastically licked its owner in gratitude.

“Fine, fine! Alright!” Rincewind’s arms flailed in a vain attempt to push the Luggage away, “You’re welcome!”

The chest bounced up and down until it finally settled its hundreds of feet beside the wizard.

“We have to get out of here, don’t you think?” Rincewind spoke in a low voice. “This place is affecting us both!”

The air around the Luggage huffed in response.

“I never thought I’d be here again,” the wizard pondered, “Last time I was here, I wanted to… I wanted to—”

With his fists clenched at his side, the wizard’s mind conjured up an image of a seemingly cheerful tourist snapping photos of a tower of skulls. The Luggage opened its mouth and began nibbling on Rincewind’s sleeves.

“You probably miss him, don’t you?” Rincewind asked genuinely. “All this fetching and running after me—it must be rather tiring for you, doesn’t it?”

The Luggage continued to munch on his clothing.

“Now I’m here- of my own free will, by the way!” Rincewind sighed. “And for what? For some answers? To make sense of things? Hah! It’s not like I even know what the questions are!”

SQUEAK!

Rincewind looked up, remaining perfectly still. He lightly tapped his hand towards the Luggage while keeping his eyes fixed on the small voice in front of him.

“Have I finally gone mad?” The self-proclaimed wizard asked his sentient walking box. “Or is that little rat wearing a hood?”

Chapter Text

“So…um.”

SQUEAK!

Rincewind squinted at the creature, fairly certain he’d heard something vaguely intelligible beneath the squeaks. “I don’t think I’ve got any cheese on me, no.”

The hooded rodent stomped its skeletal foot with impatience.

SQUEAK! SQUEAK!

Failing to make useful conversation, the Death of Rats tilted its head and pointed at a door with its miniature scythe.

“Right,” said Rincewind, chuckling nervously. “As if I’m going to follow a suspicious creature into the hallways of Death—”

The Luggage, ever the opportunist, bolted after the rat.

The Death of Rats lunged through a crack into the large, ominous door, with the Luggage crashing into it, attempting to wedge its bulk through.

“Are you quite finished?” Rincewind asked, giving the Luggage just a few seconds before its legs gave up, splayed pathetically on the floor. It glared at its owner with something between wounded pride and spite.

“I reckon it’s one of those doors you have to pull,” Rincewind said dryly.

The Luggage tilted its lid.

“Oh, don’t believe me, do you?” Rincewind muttered, stepping forward and grasping the handle. “Watch and learn—”

He froze mid-sentence, eyes darting through the now open door. The Luggage leaned forward as well, crowding behind him. A library. Not just any library—a vast expanse of books spiraling into infinity. It almost rivaled the Unseen University’s.

Almost.

But something was off. These books were... too well-behaved. No chains, no growling. No rebellious incantations trying to leap off the page. Not one book rebelling against their readers. Rincewind ran a hand along their spines and sensed something—importance. And oddly enough, they were all named after people.

“Biographies.” Rincewind muttered under his breath, “These must be books written by-wait no that’s not right.” He ran up with such energy, putting his finger breeze through the pages as his mind wandered into a world of words. 

“They’re alive.” he said, wide-eyed, “Each one of them is a person, and this is their life! Written here! Everything! This is fascinating I-”

No. Don’t. He told himself. Get a grip. You’ve done this before. 

That little curious spark inside him did him no good. Last time he got curious with a book was when he was a teenager and got dared into reading the Octavo. Long story short, it caused one of the spells to enter his head and prevented him from casting any magic. Even if he went to the whole trouble of taking it out, his magic abilities never came back. 

Just look. He told himself, no touch.

Closing his eyes, he could hear the faint, endless scribbling. The lives of millions, buzzing around him, their stories in constant conversation. But what about the others? The ones not glowing with gold lettering?

Rincewind’s gaze fell to the bottom shelf. He barely hovered a finger near one of the duller books when it began to crumble into dust. He stepped back, hand over his mouth, bumping into the Luggage.

“Sorry.”

The Luggage, as usual, showed no inclination to understand or care, already wandering off in search of the Death of Rats.

Rincewind frowned, deep in thought. If these books capture every second of a person’s life, they must also record... their last.

A sudden chill ran down his human spine. With much speed, he skimmed the titles of every book that started with the letter T. Rincewind scratched his head and turned over to the F section. 

“Ah, of course.” Rincewind sighed as his arm rose to a particular book and turned over the more recent pages. 

It reads:

2:30 pm, Twoflower is enjoying a peaceful lunch in the park. A blue butterfly lands delicately on his finger. He regrets leaving his iconograph at home.

Rincewind smiled. He could see it clearly. The non-existent pen scribbled on:

2:35 pm, Two-Flower found a coin on the ground. What a lucky day, he thought as he picked up the coin. He tossed it at a nearby fountain, closed his eyes and began to pray.

‘I hope my letter will arrive safely to him’. He wished, ‘Too bad I didn’t get a picture of that butterfly. I shall draw him one!’

Rincewind closed the book as though it were on fire. "Right. The letters…”

He cringed, picturing the pile of unopened letters stuffed under his mattress. It’s not that he disliked the guy. Quite the opposite. Twoflower was probably the only human alive who liked him. Who didn’t see him as a failed wizard or a coward. And that’s why... the letters stayed unopened. And Rincewind won’t even dare to write him back. Yup, that makes total sense.

Trying to distract himself, Rincewind decided to search for his own biography. Oddly enough, his was encased in glass, a worn, red-leather tome.

Well, that’s…ominous.

He lifted the glass and opened the book, noting the red bookmarks scattered through the pages. Just to be thorough, he flipped to page one:

“WOMAN RAN AWAY. THEN RINCEWIND WAS BORN.”

Yup. Sounds about right. The book didn’t even bother with the details. Rincewind had very few early memories, though he did recall one when he was about eight years old. Yes, that was when he first visited the University.

He visited the University as a school trip, you see. Children were lining up to place their little curious hands on an orb that measured their magical potential. On his turn, little Rincewind put up his palm on the device, which of course, caused it to break instantaneously. Having to be chased down by the staff and the students that didn’t get a turn, Rincewind hid behind the curtains for the rest of the day. Since then, the University didn’t quite remember as to why they had one more student in their faculty. And Rincewind stayed there ever since. 

It is safe to say, they never let another school trip to that place. It was, of course, for the safety of the wizards. 

He never thought much about his past. He never thought of a life outside being a wizard in general. But those little red bookmarks? They piqued his interest. As his hand touched one, the seam of gold thread flew from the book, manifesting a door in the wall. "Rincewind" was inscribed above it. The door swung open, beckoning.

A gentle force nudged him forward, but a familiar voice echoed behind him.

CURIOUS? asked Death.

The door slammed shut. Rincewind spun around, defensive. “Curious? Me? Haha, that’s pretty much the OPPOSITE of what I do. Curious. haha.”

Death hummed as its flaming eyes looked over the non existent door, HAVE YOU ENJOYED YOUR STAY?

“Not exactly my cup of tea,” Rincewind muttered.

WHAT ABOUT THIS ONE?

Death handed Rincewind his much awaited drink.

“Erm, thanks.” Rincewind sipped.

Blast it. 

It was perfect. 

This tea really is to die for.

Chapter Text

Rincewind pulled up a seat as the creaking of its journey echoed across the hushed library. Death, already comfortably seated, raised his cup of tea with ease. The tea mysteriously didn’t go through his robes.

“Look,” said Rincewind, nervously settling in, “I know what’s been going on. I’m not stupid.”

WAS IT TOO OBVIOUS?

“It’s not like I don’t appreciate it,” Rincewind admitted, “I’m glad that these people that I’ve met in the past, are doing more than fine.”

YOU HAVE TOUCHED THEIR LIVES, RINCEWIND.

Death put down his cup on his floral decorated saucer sitting on his other hand.

EVERY ONE OF THEM. THANKFUL TO HAVE RAN INTO YOU.

“And I get that, Death. Really.” Rincewind grimace, “But why me? Why are you so determined to want to make me see that?”

Death tilted his head slightly. If he had eyebrows, one of them should have been lifted about now.

YOU ALWAYS RUN AWAY FROM DEATH.

“And that’s completely normal!” protested Rincewind, jumping to his feet, practically tripping over the chair.

AND YET, YOU COWER WHEN LIFE PRESENTS TO YOU.

Rincewind awkwardly raised the chair and sat back down,

“Oh, and…Life is-is a person-as well?”

A PERSONIFICATION OF LIFE? DON’T BE SILLY, replied Death. I MEANT THAT FIGURATIVELY.

Rincewind took a moment to process that.

“Look,” he said, trying again, “My life’s twisted as it is, because of the gods. Seriously, if I ever DO get a chance to get a break, I would do so gladly!”

“But no,” Continued Rincewind, not even focusing on who he was talking to, “How can I enjoy what life I have, if I need to constantly look up to see which God wants to land an anvil on top of my head? It’s impossible!”

I CAN MAKE YOU INVISIBLE.

Rincewind paused, his brain screeching to a halt. “You—what?”

IT MIGHT ONLY WORK FOR A DAY OR TWO. THE GODS AREN’T EASY TO FOOL TWICE.

“...invisible? From the Gods?” 

JUST AS I AM INVISIBLE TO HUMANS.

For the biggest moment of his life, Rincewind could actually stand in one place and think. So he was now left there, petrified, as his mind played different tunes all at once.

“But, what am I going to do with that time?”

YOU CAN CHOOSE YOUR OWN PATH, RINCEWIND.

“Invisible? So…no meddling from Gods? No FATE? No Lady? No Gods sending me to the nearest apocalypse?”

Death reached a comforting hand on the wizard’s shoulder. It was icy cold, but the action itself was the warmest feeling he had in a long time.

IS THERE A PLACE YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO GO?

To his own surprise, Rincewind found his mouth answering faster than his brain.

“Actually, there is.”

There was a swirl of chaos and colors. Paper lanterns were being held up high in the sky as confetti rained down in a dizzying shower of celebration. The air was alive as the rhythmic joy of the drums and the high-pitch laughter of the children glowed all around. Adults twirled in tight circles as they too danced along the laughter of music. If only there was a rainbow in the sky, it would have completed the picture. 

SO YOU HAVE CHOSEN THIS. Death observed, as a child ran past, a kite dancing on the clear blue sky behind him.

“Don’t start.” Warned Rincewind as he let out a massive sigh, “I just didn’t want to be here a second time during a war or a big world crisis, okay?!”

SURE, Death’s tone had a little hint of being amused at that.

Humans were such curious creatures to Death. He knew about Rincewind’s whole life (it was his job to know about it, of course). But, looking back at different parts of his life, it was meeting that tourist that started Rincewind's loop of unfortunate events. 

If Death learned anything from watching humans, anyone in Rincewind’s position would feel anger or have no other reason to cross paths with this tourist ever again. And yet, Rincewind, have chosen, for the little free time he had…to visit him? Such an interesting human, Rincewind is.

The Luggage nudged at the hooded figure, which managed to wake up Death from his train of thoughts.

OH, MY APOLOGIES. Death looked around, SEEMS I HAVE LOST THE WIZARD.

The Luggage clattered off towards the gates of the Agatean Empire, Death trailing after. The city had transformed over the years—once it had just one festival, now it seemed to celebrate everything. If Death had to describe it in some way, it would be that this city felt... the most alive. Somehow.

Death has spotted the wizard. It was fortunate he had, considering that his power to make the wizard invisible, also caused Death to not know of his exact location. And considering the massive crowd, it certainly made it impossible to go through the sea of happiness. 

Of course, Death has the power to move people aside to create his own path. However, that seemed to be quite difficult if there was no free space for the crowd to move to. 

“Hey, move it pal!” shouted a voice at Death.

Death apologized and turned back towards the voice in confusion. He was met by a small figure floating in midair. His face, as difficult as it was to describe, was as if a baby was also an old man all at once. Its tiny little white wings phenomenally held the creature in the air. And Death couldn’t look away at its heart-shaped tattoo that has been crossed by an arrow on one of its muscular biceps. It was also difficult to not look away as this baby man lit up a large cigar and sucked on it like it was a pacifier. 

“Ah, there he is!” Said the winged baby. Somewhere in his pink stash, the baby now held onto a bow and arrow. The arrowhead, as you would guess it, was heart-shaped. 

As a professional to another, Death bent down to meet the baby’s height as he replied in the calmest way possible, MIGHT I ASK WHAT YOU ARE DOING?

“You see that Rincewind bloke, over there?” Said Cupid without taking his eyes off his target, “Overdue for love.”

Ah, of course, Death thought. Since he made Rincewind invisible to the higher gods, lesser creatures like Cupid here, could now call dibs on him. You cancel one subscription, and the junk mail doubles. And his wizard was a pretty popular fellow in the community of the Gods.

Cupid kept his bow steadied as he took aim. He shoots. Arrow flying through the air, piercing hats and wigs in its direction, gets closer and closer to the wizard until- Rincewind looks down, causing the arrow to click against a wall. 

Cupid swore under his breath, drew another arrow, fired—and missed again, as Rincewind obliviously wandered on.

“GODS, dang it!” Cupid fumed, throwing down his bow, “Seriously! It’s like he forcefully doesn’t WANT love.”

I SEE, replied Death.

Cupid went through his magic pack and opened up a scroll. The paper itself, rolled down on the ground and rolled endlessly through the city. “See here? See all these dates listed here? Those are the times THIS fool was supposed to be in love, but does it happen? NO!”

HOW UNFORTUNATE.

“Do you know what that’s like?” Cupid snapped his fingers and the scroll vanished, “Having your job failed every time because of some weird anomaly?”

I CAN’T IMAGINE, replied Death.*

*Death can’t imagine things of course. But he sure can remember everything. And that means…everything. Death used to hate this anomaly that calls himself Rincewind. But over the years, Death has ended up appreciating this abnormal and surprising individual. It certainly kept his job interesting.

“But it’s strange…” Cupid scratched his head, “My powers called me out here because his Love Meter has been higher than it’s ever been! It has never reached this high before!”

Death’s skull moved slowly at the blurred image of Rincewind as his body dispersed inside the crowd.

“I wonder what is going on, in that little brain of his…”

INDEED.

…

OH, Gods! Why am I here? Of all places? Why here? Everyone is staring at me! Oh, is it my haircut? Will people recognize me? Do I WANT to be recognized?

Rincewind stopped for a second to look at his reflection against a shiny decorated pot, “I looked worse…” He spit on his hand and styled his hair a bit. Rincewind’s other hand slapped at the traitorous one, What am I even doing? Why am I so nervous?!

“Mama! Mama!” A child pulled on his mother’s dress for attention, “Is that the Great Wizzard?”

All eyes immediately looked from where the kid pointed. Rincewind was now the center of attention.

On second thought, maybe I’ll come back when there’s a crisis. 

And Rincewind did what he did best. He ran.

He knew this was a bad idea. Maybe he’ll use his free time to just go back home and read a nice cozy book. Help out dusting off the old shelves at the library…give the Librarian his daily bananas…Yeah, and have a nice cup of hot cocoa while being wrapped in a warm blanket. Yes…this idea is starting to sound good! He just needs to find Death and-

His path was abruptly blocked by a looming statue standing in the middle of the plaza. His eyes wandered up to see the statue's head, only to be blinded by the piercing rays of the sun. And from a distance, a clank of armor drew closed. Now, Rincewind was surrounded by three guards of the city.

“I really don’t want any trouble!” Rincewind declared, “I-I just-”

An arrow zipped by, missing him by a hair.

“Seriously, who keeps doing that?” Rincewind peered around for the source of the arrow, finally spotting Death standing at the back of the crowd, giving him a friendly wave.

And what’s odd is that Death appeared to be… gesturing? Well, Rincewind has always been good at charades…let see:

Small…flying…ah yes, that’s a heart. A small flying…heart? …Me? At me? A small flying heart at me?

What could it mean confused the wizard greatly. He better not be right for what he was thinking. He and Death surely weren't that close. Better not make eye contact.  

“You better not mess with my gig!” exclaimed Cupid, as he shoved Death out of the way, “Or I’ll tell the Gods on ya!”

OF COURSE NOT.

“Well, watch and learn.” Cupid lowered his head to his bow and took aim, “I won’t miss this time.”

The arrow flew and Rincewind quickly ducked out of the way. One of the guards groaned in pain for a second, until the wizard cautiously went up to check on him.

“Um, are you alright sir?”

The guard gazed at him, hearts dancing all around him. “You have… lovely green eyes.” Then he crumpled to the ground in a heap, leaving his comrades to attend to him while Rincewind edged away from the surreal scene.

“Dang it!” Screamed Cupid as he once again threw away his bow and arrows to the ground, “So close!”

I THOUGHT THAT WAS A NICE ONE.

“Well, whatever, I’ll just follow the next target on my list.”

Far off, a figure with glasses nervously browsed the market, occasionally bowing in embarrassment as merchants bombarded him with gifts. Just a few feet away, Rincewind wandered on, oblivious to the presence of this stranger, as the crowd acted as a barrier between the two.

“Where could he be?” The wizard mumbled under his breath.

Cupid flew up and noticed his previous target and the stranger, “Hah would you look at that! It’s all lined up for me perfectly!” The arrow shot through the air…and ricocheted off the stranger’s glasses. It bounced off around cooking pans, pots, mirrors—until it found its way towards Rincewind.

Cupid held his breath.

Rincewind, noticing his sock had fallen, crouched down to fix it. The arrow sailed harmlessly over him and struck a parrot in a nearby cage.

“Smoochies! Gwak! Hey, pretty boy!” Flirted the parrot, “Kiss, Kiss!”

Rincewind leaned back up, confused at his surroundings, “What is wrong with this city? Is it really the beard?”

“Rincewind?” came a familiar voice. The wizard spun around, but the crowd blocked his view. He strained to see, unsure if he’d imagined it. 

“Two-flower?” Rincewind yelled just in case, ears perking.

After about five seconds the same voice replied, “How have you been?!”

“Are-are we really having this conversation?!” Rincewind shouted against the noise of the crowd, craning his neck in attention.

…

…

…

…

“I’ve been fine, how  are you?!” 

“Hold on!” Cried out Rincewind, “I think I can spot you!”

“Really?!”

No, not really. He had no idea. As the crowd shifted, the mystery figure seemed to have vanished. 

Figures. Just when I actually LOOK for the guy, he doesn’t show up. What am I even going to say? ‘Oh, just passing through the Agatean Empire, no big deal, not running from an apocalypse at the moment. Also, sorry for ignoring your hundreds of letters. Tea?’

Suddenly, his legs became numb. Everything felt overwhelming—the colors, the noise, the heat. Death had warned him that the ride might cause nausea in living beings, and it seemed the effects were kicking in. The world became blurry. The statue from the plaza seemed disproportionate and wavy. He never really did get a look of what the shape of the statue was…

“You alright?” came a soft voice.

“I just wanted to see a fr—" Rincewind’s voice trailed off as he stared at the figure before him. A nervous smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “…Friend.”

Rincewind collapsed on the floor as the crowd circled him in utter confusion.

Chapter Text

Rincewind woke to the most comfiest bed cell he’s ever known. Well, of course he was bound to end up in a jail cell once in every adventure, right? It’s practically a Rincewind tradition! Why, the last time he was in the Agatean Empire, he pretty much was in jail!

Rincewind swung his legs over the side of the bed, already anticipating his feet to meet the chill of hard stone beneath him. He was surprised to see his reflection instead. Marble flooring. Well…this is a very nice cell indeed! And yet- he has never been in a cell with a large balcony view before.

A polite knock was heard from the door- The door?

Rincewind flinched and hid himself inside the plush and luxurious covers. He found himself surprisingly looking for Death. But as he could not find him, Rincewind couldn’t help but feel saddened with the lack of skulls in the room. 

Another polite knock was heard again, this time a bit louder.

“C-coming! I-I guess!” The wizard called out. 

Rincewind also realized that his clothing had been swapped for some silk pajamas. And right next to him, sat the comfiest and cutest fuzzy slippers to wear. His captives were even generous enough to leave his wizard hat on the desk lamp!

A mix of loudness and politeness pounded the door. 

Rincewind, with the pink slippers and his silk robe, dashed towards the door handle. And just as he was about to open it up, his visitor flung the door and hit the wizard’s forehead.

“Oh, Rincewind!” Exclaimed the visitor, “I’m so sorry!”

Rincewind closed his eyes as he withered in pain. Invisible my ass! Rincewind thought, Maybe bad luck is really just part of me!

The figure layed a gentle hand on Rincewind, who was crouching on the floor. The voice asked, “Are you alright, friend?”

As the pain subsided, Rincewind had his eyes wide open, and felt like his chest had been struck by something unseen.

“Two-Flower?!” He managed to yell.

Rincewind’s visitor chuckled in delight. The wizard was already fighting a war of questions inside his own head. His response ended up being a combination of, “How…why are ya- When did…um…hi.”

He extended a hand towards Two-Flower as the other raised an eyebrow and stared at the hand. 

“Ah-ha!” He beamed.

Two-Flower reached into his pocket and pressed a gold coin into Rincewind’s hand.

“What, no!” Rincewind sputtered, thrusting the coin back.

“Sorry,” Two-flower giggled, “Force of habit.”

Oh, how much he missed him.

“I like the new look, Rincewind!” Two-Flower exclaimed as he studied him from head to toe, “I thought the length of wizard beards was a show of status or something.”

“Wizard hair is a potent ingredient in potions and enchantments, you see.” Rincewind immediately slapped his own mouth. Here he was, automatically lying just to make a good impression to his ex-tourist friend. Even though he wasn’t here for praise nor money, some habits of his stayed dormant. But by the Gods …seeing that gleam of curiosity magnified by those big round glasses of his, has always taken claim to Rincewind’s worst nature.

“This is a really great guest room, I should say!” Rincewind blurted, attempting to change the subject, “Very um…spacious and luxurious too!”

“It’s one of mine, actually.” Two-flower responded bashfully, “There’s other rooms, but this one has a really great view of the city!”

“Watch out,” Rincewind chuckled, “With a room this big, people might confuse you for the emperor!”

Dead silence. Two-flower looked around and coughed awkwardly, “Well, actually-”

“No.” Rincewind’s eyes expanded in shock, “But-But you’re not even wearing a crown!”

Two-flower opened up his sleeves as he presented something on his palm, “It is a really cute hat, Rincewind! It’s a little on the small size but-”

“That’s the crown?” The wizard asked, “But it’s not made of gold!”

“Why should it be gold?” Two-Flower tilted his head, “Won’t it get awfully heavy wearing it all day?”

“Well-yeah, but…nevermind.” Rincewind dismissed it with his hands, “I forgot where I was.”

Two-Flower smiled and looked down at his Emperor crown and lifted it up. Rincewind flinched at it. Two-Flower took it down, and Rincewind’s shoulder relaxed again. Took it up, and Rincewind flinched a second time. 

It’s not going to explode, Rincewind,” Twoflower assured him, watching as Rincewind’s expression wobbled between delight and dread, like a deer caught in a high-stakes game of hopscotch.

The emperor, now adored with his hat of authority, extended his arms widely.

“Aw, come on.” Two-Flower smiled, “Give me one big hug, dear friend!”

“Two-Flower, you know I’m not a hug perso-AH!” Rincewind was met with a strong embrace, feet dangling in the air. His mind went to overdrive as he was beginning to feel multiple reactions. First he was afraid, then a small amount of happiness managed to squeeze out a little bit before dreadness and panic took over. Only, his body made no move to squirm, which left Rincewind deeply disturbed.

“Oh!” Two-Flower released the wizard as he walked over the curtains that hid the window, “There’s something you got to see!”

“I-I think I had enough excitement for today, Two-Flower.” Said the wizard weakly.

“Alright, I understand.” responded Two-Flower as he swayed his body left and right. 

The wizard groaned as he saw his friend obviously feeling disappointed and doing a terrible job at hiding it. So Rincewind admitted defeat and walked up next to Two-Flower, “Fine.”

Two-flower squealed in delight as he dramatically grabbed the curtains and waited a few seconds before revealing its content. The light of the city blasted across the room as Rincewind shielded his eyes. 

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Rincewind rubbed his eyes as he finally settled his view and was in shock. “No…”

The statue he saw at the plaza stood in the center of the balcony’s view in plain sight. He could now see it clearly with all the detail. There, in gold, stood a brave and noble wizard as he was ready to shoot a spell onwards onto the sky. And what was worse, it wore a hat, with the name WIZZARD on top of it.

“Well?” Asked the Emperor in anticipation.

“I…” Rincewind muttered, “I can’t have a statue!”

Rincewind yanked the curtains and hid the room in darkness again. He stomped towards the door.

“Why not?” Two-Flower asked, blocking the exit.

“Cause only HEROES get statues THAT BIG!” Rincewind cried as he added, “AND ON THE CITY!”

“But you are!” Two-Flower replied, “You’re the Great Wizzard, remember?”

Two-flower smiled in sweet nostalgia. Which wasn’t the same for Rincewind, “Two-Flower.”

The other looked back and noticed that Rincewind had stopped shaking and was now firmly standing on the ground, staring where the curtains laid, “You know I’m not that great of a wizard.”

Two-Flower composed his own excitement and met the wizard with the same level of tone, “You’re a kind of wizard, Rincewind.” He said quietly and the gentlest he could get, “ You’re my best friend.”

“I…” Rincewind hesitated and avoided to meet his eyes. His feet weren't shaking, and that troubled him deeply. He was ready to run. And yet, his body didn’t comply, “I need to lie down now.”

“Sure, no problem buddy.” Assured Two-Flower, “I’ll have someone send you something to eat.”

Two-Flower leaned at the half-opened door, “Any request?”

The wizard thought for a second and just shrugged, “Surprise me.”

“I think I already did!” cheered Two-flower as he closed the door behind him.

The wizard couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, as he slumped his body down on the feathered mattress. He took a big breath as he stared at the small light gap coming from the curtains.

“What am I doing?” The wizard muttered.

Gods how long has this been? That positiveness is just so bright. Rincewind hid within the silk sheets and buried himself. A disaster is bound to happen. I’ve never had this much attention and praise in one day. A statue? Really? The guys in the University would have a laugh! Yes, they do have statues of wizards in the University. But that’s because a Wizard statue is made on wizard grounds only. When a statue is made by the city, well…it becomes the symbol of the city. That wizard is not seen as a wizard any more.

All these adventures, all these surviving and stuff…it really just seemed that Rincewind got into a hero-shaped box, only problem is he is a Rincewind piece. Which could actually explain his whole life, surprisingly. 

He sat up and looked around, searching for a distraction. Above his bed hung a large portrait of Cohen the Barbarian, looming heroically in the otherwise still room. Not much has been said about Cohen’s last appearance. But, Rincewind was there, wasn’t he?And still, he couldn’t decide if Cohen was dead or just rode off into space for more adventures. 

He was there…right? 

Well, one thing was sure for Rincewind-he better not drag Twoflower with him. For how much the guy would enjoy another 6 month adventure, Rincewind didn’t have the heart for it. An emperor. That guy. 

Rincewind let out a heavy sigh. His days had always been full of surprises, but this particular adventure had officially claimed first place. As he lay there, he watched a narrow beam of sunlight slip through the gap in the curtains, casting a warm line across the room. Outside, he could hear the faint, joyous sounds of the city.

The second biggest surprise of all, though, was that a little voice inside him whispered five simple, magical words:

Let’s stay for a while.

And for once in his life, the wizard…

…agreed.

Chapter Text

“Look, I’m trying. I just…can’t seem to understand!”

The Luggage glared at his master as hundreds of feet stomped on the ground all at once.

“If you had arms, we could do charades but,” Rincewind paused to try not to sound cruel, “You’re only legs.”

The Luggage glared deeper. the hinges lowered in sigh as the box rummaged around. It emerged moments later with a picture frame in its mahogany mouth, showing two figures in ceremonial attire.

The thinking gears inside Rincewind's brain slowly began to churn . Though, Rincewind had to make sure he was in the wrong.

”You.” Rincewind pointed at the box.

The Luggage nodded.

“You,” The wizard continued. “Want. A. Wedding? You?”

The box’s lid closed as it strikes his master’s kneecap, “Ow, okay! You’re serious, okay!”

Rincewind winced and rubbed his leg. He took a deep breath, “We need an expert.”

…

The Luggage danced happily as Two-Flower tossed a coin midair. The box leaped high and caught the coin between its teeth.

Rincewind huffed and crossed his arms as he saw his luggage bring it back to Two-Flower.

“Traitor.” The wizard mumbled.

“You’ve taken good care of it, Rincewind!” Cheered Two-Flower as he patted the box. He quietly leaned over it and whispered, “And you’ve seen to have taken good care of him ! Great job!”

“Why does it want a wedding though?!” Rincewind asked, holding a picture frame that Two-Flower had given him. It showed a photo of a fashionable-looking luggage with two little suitcases next to it. Apparently, Two-Flower took them in. He wasn't using them as transportation or for carrying. They just waddle around the Palace now and again.

“I know,” Two-Flower nodded in agreement, “We never had an Ankh-Morpork wedding, so this could be troublesome.”

Rincewind stared at him harshly, “That’s the issue you got from here?”

“You’re right!” The emperor jumped in excitement, “We need to buy the essentials! Invitations! Food! Music! Oh, this will be-”

Before he could go on an endless adventure on his own again, Rincewind grabbed onto his sleeve with remarkable ease, “Two-Flower.”

“Yes, Rincewind?”

“You’re an emperor.” Rincewind warned,”I’m sure you have people to cover that for you.”

“Oh.” Two-Flower slumped down like a discarded accordion with a canceled recital, “Well, that’s not nearly as fun.”

“By the way,” Rincewind asked suspiciously, “why were you out in the city yesterday?”

“Well, there’s a really nice food stall close to the gates, you see.” Two-Flower replied, “Best creampuffs you ever tasted!”

“Better…than the palace?”

“Oh, you tempted me!” Two-Flower stood up dramatically,“We have no choice, but to go out into the marketplace right now!”

“What?”

“Come on, Rincewind quickly!” Two-Flower was already pushing the wizard out the door.

The Luggage eagerly joined in on the push.

“W-wwait hold on!” Rincewind flailed his arms as the push halted. “You- we can’t go out like this!”

“Why not?” Asked Two-Flower.

“Emperor clothes? Me being the Great Wizzard? Us walking side by side?” Rincewind gave him the tiniest hints,  “People would think!”

Two-Flower shifted his eyes as a blush of nervousness escaped him.

“What I mean is… ” Rincewind continued on, “They’ll think there’s a big ceremony for my return! Or that you appointed me as your Court Wizard or something!”

“Oh.” Two-Flower stuck his hands in his pockets and looked away.

“What?”

“N-nothing.” Two-Flower quickly replied, “We could always wear disguises!”

“Were you wearing one before?” Rincewind asked with dread in his voice.

“Yeah!” Two-Flower put on a cloth around himself looking so proud, like a kid who found a loophole on his parents’ curfew rules.

“With your emperor clothes underneath?” Rincewind pointed out, “And your big glasses that from what I saw, no one really wears them that big-”

“Alright-Alright, I got the picture.” Two-Flower smiled, “Better disguises.”

“Good.”

“But, what about you?”

“I’ll…manage somehow.” Rincewind muttered.

“But your hat-” Two-Flower replied with worry, “A wizard without his hat is just…”

“I can put another one on,” Rincewind searched around the closet and pulled out a common unimpressive headwear. “Maybe this time I’ll actually spell it right.”

Two-Flower blinked in shock as he watched his friend easily replace his precious wizard hat. The old Rincewind won’t have dared to lose a single moment without it. But through his adventures and the dangers, Rincewind has seen his hat being torn down, lost, and even replaced by some straws and little corks dangling from the rims. Sometimes, the need for survival meant to hide away some magical aspects of it. It made him safe.

“What?” Rincewind asked as he saw Two-Flower unusually quiet.

“Is…everything alright, Rincewind?” he asked softly.

Rincewind put on the substitute hat on his head and looked in the mirror. Nothing phased him in the slightest. 

“For now, I guess.” Rincewind mumbled, “I don’t know how long this will last.”

“What will las-Rincewind?” Two-Flower turned around and the wizard disappeared out of sight. He spotted the Luggage already following the wizard’s trail.

“Always the fast one to leave, ain’t he?” Two-Flower whispered to himself.

…

“Really, Two-Flower…”

Two-Flower held onto Rincewind’s arm as he swiftly dodged everyone around the palace. It felt more like his mere presence caused everyone to move aside fast, as if an incoming tide were about to sweep them all away.

“Look at it this way, Rincewind.” Two-Flower turned his head, still leading on with a brightful smile, “It’s your turn to play tourist!”

Rincewind let himself be dragged around as he was only busy by keeping his hat intact against the pulling wind. 

“I’m not as handsome enough to pass as you,” Two-Flower winked, “But I’ll try my best in being a good tour guide.”

“Since when are you the flattering sort?” The wizard exclaimed.

Since you got here.” Two-Flower replied, his grin widening. A small blush escaped the wizard.

“Hey! Pretty Butterfly!” “Two-Flower waved.

In an open courtyard, a group of guards was performing their routine exercises with perfect precision and synchronization. At the center was Pretty Butterfly, adorned in special armor, a sword in hand. Her dark, messy hair was tied back, with a little jade butterfly pin on the side.

“She’s in charge of the army.” Two-Flower lowered his voice, careful not to distract their concentration. “I keep telling her there’s no need for one, but you know her—better safe than sorry.”

“I’m sure that level of caution comes from her mother, I presume?” Rincewind asked.

“Oh, you two would’ve gotten along very nicely,” Two-Flower replied. Impatient, he ignored common etiquette. “PRETTY BUTTERFLY! LOOK! LOOK WHO IT IS! LOOK, LOOK!”

Pretty Butterfly shot Rincewind a cold “I’m-watching-you” glare. It was sharp enough to pull him back into a quick walk.

“What about young Lotus Blossom?” Rincewind asked, eager to move on from the unsettling glare.

“Oh, she’s an artist!” Two-Flower beamed proudly. “She really captures how the world is!”

“You mean she draws it like you see it? All bright, fluffy, and happy?” Rincewind raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s how the world is out there, isn’t it?” Two-Flower replied. “You’ve seen it.”

“Yes. I have.” Rincewind muttered. “Too bad I wasn’t wearing your glasses.”

Two-Flower stopped suddenly, making the wizard bump into him. The emperor sniffed the air and whispered the words, “Creampuffs,” before dashing away.

“Hey-Wait! Two-Flow—” Rincewind slapped his mouth shut as people stopped to stare at him. He nervously smiled at the crowd, quickly catching up to his friend.

He found Two-Flower already seated at a table, eating creampuffs. As Rincewind poked his shoulder, Two-Flower stuffed a creampuff into the wizard’s mouth.

“By the gods,” Rincewind whispered.

“Delicious, right?”

“Very!” Rincewind wiped some cream from his beard. “Is there more?”

“Here.” Two-Flower handed him the dish. “I’ll order another one.”

Rincewind took the plate and began eating them. Can’t remember the last time he tasted something sweet. He was awestruck in flavour. Cream was already getting around his beard again. 

He caught Two-Flower staring at him, as though he were stuck in a dream.

“What?” Rincewind asked.

Two-Flower sighed. “Nothing, it’s just—you’d think we’d be kidnapped by now, or that a monster would show up to wreak havoc. Some kind of adventure awaits, right?”

“Oh, sorry to disappoint you,” Rincewind replied, finishing the last creampuff and licking his fingers clean.

“Actually…” Two-Flower gently smiled, “This is kind of nice, too.”

Rincewind stopped, mouth still on his thumb. The two stare at one another, time freezing in place. It took the wizard all the strength to come up with something to say.

“So, a wedding .”

“Huh?”

Shoot, not the right words there, pal.

“The luggages in question.” Rincewind clarified.

“Oh, it’s gonna be lovely!” Two-Flower gleed in delight, “I already ordered the receptionist, we got the music, and everything for the after-party, of course!”

Two-Flower pondered, cream still stuck on his cheek, “Though, I don’t know why you want to do it all for tonight.”

“But—Two luggages…” Rincewind began, trying to make sense of it.

“What of it?” Two-Flower asked innocently.

“How…I mean,” The wizard stammered, “They already got little luggages together. Why now?”

“I suppose…” Two-Flower thought for a moment, “They may want to do the joining ceremony.”

“The… what ?”

“It will link them.” Two-Flower continued, wiping the crumbs off his face with a napkin, “Their space in the trunk.”

“You mean, there’s a chance I accidentally open the trunk and get your missing sock?”

“Won’t that be a laugh?” Two-Flower chuckled as he sneaked a peek at the wizard’s new starry socks.

“I didn’t agree to this!” Rincewind cried.

“Well, look at it this way.” Two-Flower assured his friend, “Now we’re sort of connected, you and I.”

Rincewind stared down at his plate. Shielding from the brightness of the city and from Two-Flower.He gazed at the remaining crumbs of his plate. This wasn’t right, the wizard knew. All this…what was that word? Rincewind didn’t know what to call this, but it was something he wasn’t much familiar with. He needed to remind himself this isn’t going to remain. 

Sooner or later, his luck will run out soon. 

And now that he had a taste for it, Rincewind was scared to go back to the fouls of his life. But, what could he do? This wasn’t something that his legs could run away from. It was time. As soon as the invisibility wears off, then, things will get back to schedule.

Back to the status quo.

Back to being just Rincewind.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine.” The wizard responded. He looked again at his reflection on a glass, his disguise staring back at him with such dread.

“Rincewind.” Two-Flower paused, seeing his friend lost in a concentration of within that the other didn’t want to disrupt. But it was too much to bear.

“Hey,” Two-Flower tried again, “Since you’re here, there’s something I need your help with.”

“Me?” Rincewind asked hoarsely, “What can I do?”

Two-Flower slapped him on his shoulder, “Something only the Grrrrrreat Wizzard can do!”

“That’s too many r’s.” Rincewind corrected.

“But it makes it look more powerful!” Two-Flower whined as Rincewind chuckled at his exaggerated expression.

“Come on.” 

Two-Flower led the way.

They stood just outside the walls of the city. 

While the Palace has their own personal clacks tower, the city’s was located just outside the gate. 

It looked abandoned, for the most part.

“There!” Two-Flower pointed at a shadow inside the tower.

Rincewind squinted his eyes.

A goblin.

“I’ve been practicing my Ankh-Morporkian,” Two-Flower stated, “But I don’t think they understand me clearly.”

“You see,” Two-Flower continued, “This location isn’t well suited. There’s bound to be some earthquakes here and there, and a brick tower would stand much better than just wood.”

“Ah.” Rincewind noted, “Well, let’s see what I can do.”

“Excuse me!” Rincewind yelled out.

Rincewind didn’t mind goblins. In fact, he was fascinated by them. They liked shadows and would compliment those who were nice to them. And while goblins worked with dangerous explosive mechanisms, they could always assure you that they wouldn’t explode in your face. So, if anything, you’d always be safe with a goblin. Of course, you’d have to put up with the smell—but that was a small price to pay in exchange for keeping your innards intact.

“Excuse me!” Rincewind tried again, “Nice day today, isn't it?”

The shadow shifted and climbed down to greet them. He was cautious of the glass-wearing one, but smiled at the skinny one.

“Magic Man of Misspelling” Said the goblin, “Nice to see same face of More Pork.”

“Yes, har har I can’t spell-” Rincewind dismissed the title, “What should I call you?”

“I am Skyweaver of the Conch.”

“Whoaaaa…” Two-Flower leaned in as he was quickly stopped by Rincewind. 

“That man…” Skyweaver of the Conch pointed wearily, “Has tried to poison me everyday!”

Rincewind unimpressively turned his head, “Did you?”

“Did what, Rincewind?” Asked Two-Flower.

“Tried to poison him.”

“Oh, I would never!” Two-Flower gasped, “I only brought him sweets as a sign of welcome!”

The goblin waved to the wizard, and Rincewind leaned to give him an ear.

“Uh-huh. Yup. Yeah. Hmm, you don’t say…”

Rincewind stepped away and stood next to Two-Flower.

“Well?” Two-Flower asked.

“He says he’s allergic to the sweet white stuff.”

“Sugar?!” Two-Flower exclaimed, “Oh dear…”

Having to meet someone who won’t know the joys of confectionary treats, Two-Flower stood aside staring at the ground.

“What’s with him?” Asked the goblin.

“I think he started on the wrong foot.” Rincewind reply, “See, he’s the emperor and-”

“What are those?”

“Basically, he’s the king.”

“OOOH, I SEE!” Skyweaver of the Conch replied in awe, “That explains the poisoning! It must have been rude of me to build this tower without the proper greeting then!”

“What?” said Rincewind, “N-No that’s not what I-”

“Forgive this poor old fool, your Majesty.” The goblin bowed to the emperor, “I will build a better tower much more suited to your likings.”

Two-Flower leered at Rincewind. The wizard shrugged in response.

“Lord Vetinari is great king,” said Skyweaver of the Conch, “We will give the same hospitality to you and your city.”

“That’s nice, well said you…” Rincewind patted the emperor before he intervened again, “The emperor will try not to poison you again.”

“Much grateful,” Said the goblin, “I will tell the others not to mess with the Foureyes of Gold.”

“Why is his name more-” Rincewind shut his words, “Thank you.”

Rincewind pushed Two-Flower aside before he could ask any pestering questions.

“Come on, your majesty …you have a wedding to attend to!”

“But I really wanted to ask!”

“No time, I'm afraid!” Rincewind ignored, “We don’t want the two love-boxes waiting any longer!”

“At least invite him to the wedding!”

“Oh, right…” 

...

After a couple of exchanges and awkward explanations, Rincewind waved goodbye and walked back up to Two-Flower.

"What are you giggling about?" Rincewind asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Just like seeing what you do best, Rincewind." Two-Flower responded.

The wizard stood, "I was just talking."

“Yes.” Two-Flower said, with a small glint in his eyes that Rincewind couldn’t quite place, "And you always had a thing for words.”

Rincewind just shrugged in response, "Well, whatever makes you happy."

The wizard continued down the path, unaware how bright his friend smiled behind him.

"It does…" Two-Flower whispered and followed the wizard back home.

Chapter Text

If you wanted to read the intricacy and have a delicate explanation on how two boxes could possibly link their interdimensional space trunk, you might have gotten the wrong book. You see, there are a lot of things that the Discworld does not explain in high detail. What is the fun in explaining the unexplainable? The randomness of reality and magic? The hat that houses the white rabbit during parties? The sleeves that carry pigeons and their multicolored handkerchiefs? No, we won’t go into detail in explaining all of it. After all, it is the mystery that makes fantasy well…fantastic.

It is by a heavy burden that all the guests at the wedding were particularly confused by the whole ordeal. While they were waiting for a blushing bride to enter the scene, they were greeted by the stomping of feet on heels at the altar. Though, a few dozen eyes from the ladies concluded that those heels were of excellent taste.

“Hey-where are YOU going?” 

Rincewind clung onto the Luggage as it was trying to slide away. The wizard couldn’t believe his luggage was even capable of having cold feet, considering that it has lots to spare. 

“You’re embarrassing us both, you know.” he whispered. The box stopped, turning back reluctantly to await its bride, who was halfway through what could only be described as the longest walk down the aisle in wedding history.

“Ahem!” The officiant cleared their throat pointedly, “If we could all kindly be seated…”

And so, they did.

Silence drew.

And soon, the bells tolled.

...

The wedding, as it happened, was in utter chaos soon after. The little ring bearers with wheels in their tiny feet ran around in utter defiance, protesting the lack of cake. Much worse, is that after the officiant utter the words, You may kiss the bride, the two Luggages stare at one another for it seems like a millennium. For sentient boxes, a “kiss” involved a sort of telepathic communion that excluded all those inconveniently burdened with heartbeats. Though, after a few suggestions and loud coughs from Rincewind, it helped move things along nicely like a swimmer stuck in a jellyfish traffic jam.

And then came the after party.

It was loud, but not because of the newlyweds. The Luggage family had retired to a quiet corner to catch up. No, it was everyone else that after the most bafflingly unique wedding of their lives, celebrated in alleviation as they began to get loose and enjoy the familiarity of a good time.

The same could not be said about Rincewind. As he watched the crowd chattering about, the dancing, and music playing, he could not sit still. His neck itched. Foot tapping impatiently. 

Something sat wrong in Rincewind’s stomach. It wasn’t the catering, although Rincewind was sure that one of those tiny sandwiches had been plotting against him. No, it was the sheer perfection of the moment that sat uneasily with him. Everything was…too… peaceful .

Rincewind continued to observe the crowd, golden light shining brightly for those bold enough to spread their happiness wide. The wizard however, shifted his body to follow the cool blue solitude of the hallway.

“Rincewind?” Two-Flower turned, just in time to catch a glimpse of the wizard slipping through the large door.

The emperor, mid-conversation with a cluster of guests, offered hasty apologies before hurrying after his friend.

…

His footsteps tapped in the cold marble of the night.

They echoed across the hall as the moon observed his lonely pace as the fireworks danced behind. The walls reflected the passerby wizard as Rincewind stopped to look at his reflection on the wall. The tailors did wonders with his outfit. They were able to retain his usual wizard robes, but made with that rich silk texture of their unique materials. His stars on the fabric never looked quite as brightful as this. And his hat has never been this pointy. Somehow, the tailors thought the extra Z in “Wizzard” was intentional, and so, the extra letter got a fancier embroidery stitched around it.

For the first time in his life, Rincewind looked, without question, like a proper wizard. Possibly the most wizardly wizard in existence.

And it felt wrong.

So…so wrong.

“You know…” A calming voice resonated from behind, “The offer still stands…”

The wizard turned around, and met the concerning eyes of Two-Flower. He walked up to meet the wizard, their bodies silhouetted against a vast, unglazed window.

“What offer?” Rincewind asked cautiously.

The emperor thought his words carefully. He rested his elbows on the windowsill and looked out at the city.

“Becoming the Royal Wizard here.”

The wizard’s shoulders quickly jumped in alarm and Two-Flower could easily see his friend was ready to scatter. 

“I know I’m not an amazing ruler like Cohen, that’s for sure…” Two-Flower said hurriedly and shook his hands, “And it might not feel like home, but I’ve been trying to implement some of that Ankh-Morpork culture around and I-”

The letters. Rincewind concluded. How many things have I missed? Oh, gods…what else did he share with me?

This feeling…it felt like little ice daggers stabbing across his whole spine!

“I can’t.” He muttered. 

Two-Flower’s glasses glinted in the moonlight, “Why not?”

“Come on, Two-Flower!” Rincewind exclaimed, throwing his arms up, “You know I can’t. And don’t you lie-I know that you know that I can’t do magic. I can’t be a Royal Wizard if I’m not pulling fire out of my hand!”

It shamed the wizard to admit it, but yelling all of this out felt alleviating. However, he didn’t expect Two-Flower to keep that same calming demeanor. 

“You’re the GREAT WIZZARD, remember?” He said at last.

“But, I’m not.” Rincewind slumped his shoulders, “Why do you keep insisting I’m this GREAT WIZZARD if you know I’m not?”

“Cause you are great.” Two-Flower simply replied, “You’re a kind of wizard, Rincewind.”

“Of what kind?”

“My friend.”

“That’s not-You can’t just-” Rincewind huffed in defeat, “Well, that’s not fair.” 

Two-Flower chuckled, and despite himself, Rincewind joined in.

Fireworks painted the sky in colorful patterns as the lonely halls felt a little bit warmer.

Two-Flower turned his back from the window and observed the paintings of the hero Cohen. The paintings depicted Cohen in his many roles: barbarian, hero, and ruler of the city. Yet, his expression never changed. This was because Cohen couldn’t stay still long enough for the painters, so they simply altered his outfits, maintaining the same powerful, looming pose.

“You know, Cohen told me something.” Two-Flower began contemplating. 

“I was his Great Vizier at the time, after all, but- It felt strange.” He continued, “I read all about him. All the glory and his heroic ventures, but there was this one time I saw him…different.”

“What do you mean?” Rincewind leaned with interest.

Two-Flower recalled the memory. He was summoned to Cohen’s chambers, to meet alone. There, in the balcony, wasn’t the heroic and powerful warrior, but an aged man, looking at the people below him with regrets in his eyes. “You see that?” Cohen pointed at the city, “All these people, dancing! And why-why is nothing getting in these days? I’m sure I ordered for the walls to open, didn’t I?”

“Oh, you did!” Said Two-Flower, the Grand Vizier, “Now we can have full access to even more trading! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Cohen didn’t say anything back. He muttered a few simple words that Two-Flower didn’t catch. And so, silence drew, the emperor watching life continue on without him.

“You recall Cohen telling you something, but not remember what he said?” Rincewind raised an eyebrow.

“I think I do now.” Two-Flower replied, “He told me, ‘danger is not what it was like before’ ”. 

“How…” Rincewind blinked slowly, “How horrible?”

“I know!” Two-Flower widened his eyes, “What kind of life would you have if you can’t take one step forwards and NOT get sent to an epic quest?” 

“...a boring one?” Rincewind ventured.

“Hah! Exactly!” Said Two-Flower, “And Cohen said it wasn’t like that anymore. I wonder what changed?”

Rincewind pondered and looked over the view of the night. He glanced at the Clacks Tower from before and his mind clicked in response.

“Communication.” He whispered.

“Huh?”

“That’s what changed for poor Cohen.” Rincewind explained, “In the olden days you see a monster garble and a-a mythic I don’t know… a magic hammer on a rock and you have but two choices, don’t you? Run or attack!”

As he caught a glint in Rincewind’s eyes, Two-Flower let his friend continue on. His mind was now working like a wonderful set of clockworks.

“But words. Oh, words. That’s where the real magic lies.” Rincewind closed his eyes in bliss, “They hold some power in them. They just need to be pushed in the right directions so it can turn into a conversation! And isn’t that wonderful?”

Rincewind turned around, his mind still wandering on,

“After that, well, the fellow won't run or attack, he'll just ask, ‘Nice weather today, isn't it?’ That's what changed. Gone are days of half-naked barbaric brutes charging into blindful caves, swords stuck in magical stones, and unexpected kings. Gears are turning the cobwebs of the medieval. And the world is now…sorta making sense. In its own wacky, nonsensical…sense.”

“Rincewind…” Two-Flower finally replied, “You’re glowing.”

“Oh gods, did someone set my hat on fire again?”

“No,” Two-Flower giggled, “I mean, I haven’t seen you this passionate about something before.”

Rincewind froze. 

Why hasn’t he realized this before? 

Of course…words. Communication. 

From the deepness of his soul, Rincewind knew he couldn’t do magic. He knows he’s still a wizard at heart, but no one believed him. So when he was casted out of the University in his earlier years, he dedicated himself to learning languages.

He has forgotten how much he enjoyed that knowledge of his. It is the one thing he was good at. The one thing that in some ways, makes him a wizard. 

After all…words contain a little bit of magic of their own…

Rincewind quickly clutched onto Two-Flower’s sleeve. His eyes shocked as he gazed at the city from above.

“Rincewind, you okay?” 

“I-I don’t know what is happening.” The wizard’s voice trembled as he clutched at his chest, “I…think I’m having a stroke of some kind…?”

“I can’t put it into words.” Rincewind chuckled nervously, “ Ironic, isn’t it?”

“B-Breath, Rincewind!” Pleaded his friend, “I’ll get someone-”

“No no, wait-stay.” Rincewind patted Two-Flower’s arm in reassurance, “Uh…oh Gods. It’s a feeling. It’s-It’s like…you know that feeling when you get like a warm cloth around you? As if, there’s like tiny little stars popping out and spreading both sides of your face? Uhhhh…”

“You mean …happiness ?”

“Oh no.” Rincewind’s face turned pale, “I’m happy!”

“Rincewind, where are you going?!” Cried Two-Flower as the wizard ran.

“I can’t be anywhere near here!” Exclaimed Rincewind, “Don’t you see? I can’t be happy! It’s not possible!”

“Rincewind!”

The wizard rushed past Two-Flower. Then the guards, and then everyone else. Everything went in a flash as his body naturally seeked refuge below one of the tables at the party and hid inside the cloth. 

He lifted up his shaken hand to inspect the contents of the above and grabbed a potato. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket as his body cradled in place. 

Guess we’re running away again, are we?

“Who-Who said that?” Rincewind whispered.

Me.

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot about you-or well, me.”

“I haven’t heard from myself in years!” Rincewind replied, “But I guess we-”

“Were always busy running,” said both Rincewind and his inner voice, yeah.

“So, um-What kind of thing are we discussing with myself this time?” Asked Rincewind as he held the potato closely to his chest.

We were happy there, weren’t we? Why were we running? We were hardly in any danger there.

“You KNOW why,” Said Rincewind, “When something good like that happens, something of equal value is going to negate that happiness. It’s like uh…what’s that word?” 

Don’t look at me, I’m you!

 “Rincewind? Where are you?”

The wizard peeked from behind the cloth. He saw Two-Flower asking the guests of his whereabouts.

Look at him. He’s a ruler now. Oh, that puppy-eyed fool will have a kingdom of dreams. He’s happy here. But if the Gods sees me now, they’ll use me to test that dream. Fate and the other Gods would want a disaster to happen here, at this very moment now and hurt the only friend in existence that believes in me. I can’t do that to him…

“So…what is it that I want?” Rincewind genuinely asked within himself.

“Rincewind!” Two-Flower exclaimed as he lifted the cloth above them, “There you ar-”

Two-Flower paused and immediately closed the tablecloth above them and kneeled closed, “You’re crying.”

“I…I can’t be here.” Rincewind ducked his head between his knees, “There's a reason why I didn’t visit you.”

“Rincewind, I-”

“Wherever I step, it always turns into a chain of chaos and destruction! I’m always this-this sort of favorite chess piece of the Gods and they use me as their fool! And I don’t want that to happen to you. That’s why I didn’t come to visit you sooner.”

Two-Flower leaned in and held a hand to the wizard’s shoulder. He stood still, waiting for Rincewind to continue at his own pace.

“But…that’s also a lie.” The wizard confessed, “I didn’t want to see you. I…wanted you to forget about me cause-let’s face it…with my life being a ticking disaster and you being an emperor, I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I didn’t want to…disappoint you from that image you have of me.”

Rincewind sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his sleeves.

“Come.” Two-Flower gently led the wizard out of the table and looked around the crowd. He let them back out into the hallway, away from any curious eyes. The doors from Rincewind’s chamber closed as he tiredly sat on his bed.

“You SHOULD have forgotten me.” Rincewind whispered quietly, “Not make a book about me and build a freaking statue!”

“Is that what this is all about?” Asked Two-Flower, “I tried to tell the sculptors about the nose, but he said it added character and-”

“That’s not what I meant, Two-Flower.” Rincewind sighed.

Suddenly, a light shined. 

It was quick, but Rincewind stared at the view of the city and caught the light again. One…no-Two…then three.

The light was coming from the Clank Tower outside the city gates. The ominous light projected the same pattern over and over again.

“That’s strange,” Two-Flower remarked, “We never have messages this late at night.”

“I don’t think it’s a message…” Rincewind leaned at the edge of the balcony. He noticed something from afar.

A smoke trail.

Something was coming.

And getting closer to the city.

“Oh no,” Rincewind whispered, backing away as fear gripped him back. “It started.”

Chapter Text

Tip tap tip tap…Ding!

Tip…tap…

…

Some months ago, at the High Energy Magic Building, the wizards of Unseen University clustered like moths around holding quills and handfuls of papers as they watched Hex scribble furiously until the quill started to smoke.

The door burst open as Ponder Stibbons, followed by Rincewind, entered the room. As soon as it opened, there was a rush of lesser wizards evacuating the room immediately. 

Stibbons scanned the room and quickly his eyes darted to the presence of the Archchancellor. 

“Archchancellor,” he began, with a hint of weariness, “What’s the commotion this time?”

“Well, my dear Stibbons,” Said the Archchancellor, “It appears that your Hex machine here has written a good book!”

“A…book?” Stibbons repeated.

Rincewind tiptoed to the machine as it paid no mind at the curious approach. The wizard searched within his robes and handed a quill in the air. Hex immediately took it and threw the burning one. It accidentally got dropped onto Rincewind’s hat and started to catch on fire. 

“Yes, indeed.” Responded the Archchancellor as he followed his eyes at Rincewind, who was running around in circles, wondering why a trail of smoke was following him. The Archchancellor, without batting an eye, held his enormous hand in the air and caught the skittish wizard from his collar and held him in place. The other hand raised above Rincewind’s hat and closed his fingers as the little fire was put out. 

“You mean, my Hex made a report on a certain subject…?” Stibbons hoped that was the case, “Cause Hex has always done tha-”

“No…it has written NEW stories.” The Archchancellor rose from his feet with pride, “The fiction kind.”

“Well, that can’t certainly be true,” Stibbons scoffed, “Hex is built to provide accurate and truthful statements, it can’t possibly create things like…fiction.”

Stibbons leaned down on the handful of papers already written and looked at a few samples of Hex’s work.

“‘Once upon a time, a man with the funny mustache walked to the Bakery. He fell down on the pavement. The people laughed and had cake. The End.’” 

Ponders squinted his eyes at the pages, scanning for some logical reasoning or even hidden codes inside the lettering. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, “And you all like this?”

“It’s hilarious!” Roared the Archchancellor, “So basically we encouraged it to keep coming up with more stories of that funny man!”

“You can’t be serious,” Said Ponders, totally flabbergasted, “Look, I know Hex. It can’t possibly-”

As the two wizards exchange a couple of arguments about the whole ordeal, Rincewind leaned to the machine and looked down at its work. The quill hasn’t moved now, as it was sitting in waiting for a response.

“So um…you enjoy this, aren’t you?” Asked Rincewind quietly.

The quill moved.

+++Yes.+++

“Got any other stories then?”

+++Only of funny mustache man.+++

“Why only him? There’s plenty of stories to tell, won’t you agree?”

+++YES.+++ Hex wrote, +++But people laugh. So I write more.+++

Rincewind turned his head, the argument was becoming heated, but soon turned into laughter afterwards.

“I see.” Rincewind responded. And so, the ants marched. The mouse squeaked as the bees buzzed in unison as if every object within Hex was on a mission.

…

Rincewind rubbed his forehead, feeling rather confused as to why this specific memory decided to play on his mind. 

Tip…tap…

And now, a buzzing sound irritated him. He swore he’d heard this noise before, but couldn’t quite place where. Though, it seemed to have grown much louder ever since his journey to return that wretched party orb to the University.

Why did he agree to that mission? The wizard pondered, realizing he’d never really put much thought into it until now.

Speaking of which…

“Woah, would you look at that…” Twoflower observed the moving smoke trail growing closer to the city. Fishing within his robes, he retrieved a golden spyglass. “Are they with you, Rincewind?”

The emperor handed the glass to Rincewind. The wizard accepted the spyglass with hesitance and looked. 

An army.

Two armies.

And yet…they seem to have stopped in the middle of the road. 

“Yup,” answered the wizard, lowering the spyglass. “They’re here for me, I suppose.”

“Oooh…” Excitement was seeping within Two-Flower.

“Hey-No!” Rincewind swatted the air above the emperor’s head, “None of that.”

“Father!” A voice yelled out. It belonged to Pretty Butterfly, already adorned in battlefield gear and a collection weaponry.

“As commander of the army in the Agatean Empire,” She continued, “I suggest we take an offensive maneuver and use three separate forces to ambush-”

“Wait-wait a little moment, Pretty Butterfly dear.” Two-Flower pleaded, “I always love your fighting spirit, but first I would like to hear what my advisor has to say in the matter.”

Icy footsteps echoed within the halls. The shadows opened up to reveal its summoned guest.

“Oh no.” Rincewind muttered as fear tightened his throat, “Don’t tell me you appointed your Grand Vizier to be-”

“Hey, father!” The shadowy figure appeared, revealing Lotus Blossom, draping a large green robe too big for her. She saw she wasn’t alone, and tried her best to make the most professional and serious face she could make. But frankly, it failed just like a rubber duck promising not to squeak.

“As your Grand Vizier and royal advisor,” Lotus Blossom vowed in courtesy, “I suggest…”

The world paused.

“...To welcome our new guests and show them the finest cup of tea and biscuits that our city can offer!”

A tear of pride escaped Two-Flower, “That’s my girl.”

Both Pretty Butterfly and Rincewind exchange glances.

One glace said something like: You see what I have to deal with?

The other said: You and me both.

“Look,” Rincewind stepped forwards, “This isn’t going to help anybody.”

“No kidding.” Pretty Butterfly muttered under her breath.

“Well, what do you suggest we do, Rincewind?” Asked Two-Flower, as a hint of worry was present in his eyes. 

“I…” 

Everyone was waiting for him. For his words.

Tip.Tap.Tip…tap. Ding! 

Tip….tap.

“I guess…” Rincewind took a deep breath, “I guess I should start running.”

Just a few miles away, the demons and the cultists were having a battle of confusion and worthless fighting. 

“Kill every single one of them fleshed humans!” Demanded Killer Buzz, as he sat on a wooden throne held by six of his subjects. 

There weren’t any casualties, just a lot of poking about and people trying to get a hit on something the size of rats. 

“Soon as we deal with the Wizard’s army,” Killer Buzz continued, “The closer we are to exact our revenge! Hahahaha!”

“WAIT!” A voice roared.

Both sides stopped.

The man with the almost hidden “Two” tattoo on his forehead stepped up. 

“ Wizard’s army?” Repeated the tattoo man, “If anything, you’re the creatures that wizard must have summoned to get rid of us!”

The demon spit on the ground, igniting a small fire, “Excuse me? Why would we align ourselves with the source of our hatred?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” replied the human, “We’re both after the same guy!”

“Ha!” Killer Buzz laughed, “And you suggest we call it truce? To team up with you fleshed beings? I would rather die!”

Killer Buzz looked around as soon as the clanking of swords stopped. The army shifted awkwardly and stared at the ground.

“Um..you know…” A little demon held its hand up, “Teaming up doesn’t sound too bad…” 

“It certainly sounds better than killing each other here…” Said another and soon the sound of agreement spread across the crowd like a new found disease. 

“Ugh! Fine!” Killer Buzz jumped down its throne. The feet pushed onto the heads of Killer Buzz’s supporters as its body descended on the ground. 

The tattoo man stepped forwards as his army cowered behind. The two leaders stare at one another, trying to read any hints of betrayal in their eyes. 

“My name is Killer Buzz, the second.” Said the demon leader, “And I’m the QUEEN of this here army!”

The tattoo man’s body shifted in confusion. He remembered promising his dear Ma not to hit a lady. And now his mind was contemplating if she-demons counted on his mother’s list. 

“Army man!” Killer Buzz shouted, “What do the humans call you?”

Not to be defeated by intimidation, the proud leader of the cultist stared coldly into the demon’s eyes. He held his ground, radiating as much bravado as he could muster. “You may call me…Bruce.”

A snickering was heard within the crowd. Surprisingly, Killer Buzz gave the threatening look at her subjects and silenced them all.

“You know,” Killer Buzz replied, “I thought you would be named something like…Hunter or Archer…or even…I don’t know-Carlos?”

“Just…Bruce.” said the tattoo man, still keeping that action movie pose where a spotlight should have appeared above him.

“Well… Bruce. ” Killer Buzz held her hand high, “What do you say for a little truce?”

Another snickering and giggles escaped the crowd. 

“Just for the record,” Asked Bruce, “Why are you after the guy?”

“He has tainted our religious figure!” Shouted Killer Buzz in disgust, “He has broken the mask of comfort and he’ll be burned for eternity for destroying our faith!”

“Hmm.” The man nodded, “That’s funny. The wizard has killed our figure of faith as well.”

Bruce raised his hand low and both leaders shook on it. 

Both armies rejoiced in celebration for this newfound alliance. But really, they were both happy that no more pinching was in order. 

“Um, excuse me.”

The cheers abruptly stopped, and all eyes locked on an unwelcome guest.

Rincewind held his waving hand in the air.

“Yeah, um…hi.” Continued the wizard, “I see we are all getting along well-haven’t we? So…if there’s no hard…feelings…”

The two armies did one threatening step in synchronization and the wizard jumped in place.

“Right.” Rincewind muttered.

The Luggage waddled up behind its owner, and the armies froze in collective horror. The wooden chest stared them down, its brass fittings glinting menacingly in the light of the moon.

“Now,” Rincewind continued, “There could be two things happening here. One is I let my Luggage loose while I hide in those bushes over there, or two…we can talk this out.”

 The two leaders looked at each other in confusion.

“You see,” The wizard folded his arms, “I think I learned something today. See, I have a dear friend that taught me that maybe things are a bit different nowadays. Sure, we can all have a good old fight and whatnot, but in the words of my friend: Why not just let bygones be bygones and just talk about this over some…tea?”

“.............”

Hah, look at them. All speechless. I guess words really do have some magic in-

“GET THE WIZARD!”

“Uh…NICE WEATHER TODAY, ISN’T IT?!” Rincewind yelled out.

The army rushed.

Rincewind ducked behind the Luggage, pushing it forward to start its daily munching routine.

Yet the Luggage quivered. Its tongue and murderous teeth stayed hidden inside as its feet shook in place.

“Oh no, don’t tell me…you ate something odd at the party, didn’t you?” Rincewind whimpered, “I kept telling you, milk doesn’t really go well with your stomach-”

A spear struck the ground between them.

So much for communication, muttered Rincewind as he raised his body to start running the other direction. 

Well, guess this is where we’re going then. Just…another routine isn’t it?

The chase became slow motion, the hundreds of spears thrown as the demons ran in the front lines with their pitchforks held high. He ran as fast as he could, his body running up towards a cliff.

At least they’re after me, Rincewind consoled himself, they’ll chase me down, leave the Agatean empire alone…how foolish of me to ask for something as selfish as a three day rest. In the end…I’m always going to be that good old Rincewind…the wizard with no magic and bad luc- Why am I flying?

Rincewind glanced down as the view of the Luggage was getting farther away. He turned his head back and saw that his body had made a leaping jump between two cliffs. His feet trashed about as he was in a battle against gravity, but soon his body began to plummet.

The wizard held his hat in place and watched the rocky ground getting closer.

And then…

A bony hand caught him around his waist.

And Binky neighed. 

“Death?!” Rincewind gasped.

IN THE BONES. Death’s skeletal grin gleamed as he pulled the wizard onto Binky’s saddle.

“I…I was being very brave there, you know!” The wizard stammered.

BUT OF COURSE, said Death, I ENJOYED EVERY MOMENT OF IT.

“Oh well, that’s good to know.” The wizard sulked as he instinctively gripped the saddle, “Where were you anyways?” 

ON AN ERRAND. Death replied, SOMEONE TOLD ON ME.

“I’m sorry- Told on you?” Rincewind blinked, “To who? I’m sure Death doesn’t have a manager…right?”

OH IT’S NOTHING SERIOUS LIKE THAT.

“Oh, good.”

I’VE BEEN SUMMONED TO A TRIAL BY THE GODS.

“Oh.” 

AND I’M BRINGING YOU ALONG.

“I’m sorry…what?!”

BUT FIRST— Death tugged Binky’s reins, and the steed whinnied, turning sharply. THERE’S SOMETHING I MUST SHOW YOU.

The moon shone brightly as they ascended, the Agatean Empire shrinking below. Rincewind cast one last glance at the city before everything around him faded into brilliant white.

Chapter Text

Ten minutes ago…

Rincewind rushed against the waves of many as the dimmed voice of Two-Flower pleaded to the wizard to not go as fast. Rincewind bumped into every shoulder, plates got thrown out of the air, bananas magically placed on the floor…his bad luck really has caught up to him!

The Palace doors burst open as the wizard’s legs now rumble to fight the ongoing domino effect made by a grueling set of stairs.

“Rincewind, wait!” Two-Flower called desperately, “There’s something I need to tell you!”

The wizard tripped onto his own robe, sending his body like a crimson wheel made up of hundreds of starry sequins rolling down the stairs. Now, no man nor horse stood in his path.

By the time the commotion settled, Two-Flower stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at the point where his friend had vanished. The gathered crowd murmured among themselves, wondering what exactly had just sped past them in a blur of red and panic.

Something caught Two-Flower’s eye. He bent down, picked it up, and waved it in the air.

“Rincewind! You lost a sock!”

Silence replied.

Ding…Dong…Ding…Dong…

Two-Flower raised his head over to the looming clock tower above him. It was midnight. The sock remained.

And the only thing rushing in Two-Flower’s mind was: When DID the Agatean Empire install a giant clock tower?

Now…

Rincewind’s uneven foot echoed back and forth on the half-cold concrete floor of Death’s Domain. 

Simustaneostly, the wizard’s mind was also quite busy playing a complicated game of frenzy ping pong. Meanwhile, Death stared at him, all while lifting his cup of tea slowly up to his skeletal lips. 

AS I SAID BEFORE, RINCEWIND. Death declared once again, TIME DOES NOT WORK THE SAME WAY HERE THAN THE DISC. 

“I know, I know,” Rincewind muttered, rubbing his temples as he sank into the chair Death had so thoughtfully provided.

DO YOU NEED TO HOLD A KITTY?

“No thanks, I already-huh?”

THIS ONE’S NAME…Death patted his lap as a furry creature leaped into his call, IS SNOWBELL.

Rincewind stared at the calico cat that was now purring against the skeletal figure. He then eyed another cat sitting on a corner of the room that was like a ball of cotton, “Why isn’t that one called Snowbell?”

Rincewind couldn’t tell very well, but he swore a bit of Death’s skull twitched at his response.

I…Death pondered for a while, HAD SNOWBELL FIRST BEFORE THE OTHER ONE.

“Uh-Huh.” Rincewind nodded suspiciously, “So what’s the name of the other cat?”

Death and the white cat exchanged a look. He raised his head back and responded, BUTTERSCOTCH.

A treacherous chuckle escaped the wizard. 

Death suddenly decided to stand up.

THE GODS ARE ANGRY. Death declared, THEY DEMAND EXPLANATION.

“Well…surely you can give it to them,” Rincewind suggested, “After all..it is sort of your fault, right? There’s really no reason for me to attend such a thing, right?”

THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT, Death replied, BUT THERE’S A BIGGER MATTER.

“Bigger?” asked Rincewind, “Bigger than the…Gods?”

FOLLOW ME, Death pointed at the hall, I WILL EXPLAIN AS WE GO.

Okay, Rincewind, the wizard’s mind echoed, we are left with two choices, right? If we step one foot back to reality, you might get zapped with whatever God aims better, OR…

“Yup, right behind you.”

…

THIS WAY.

The library doors closed behind them. Rincewind took a moment to inhale the familiar air of the room full of gold dust and books once more. He then eyed a specific bricked wall. And soon enough, the wall has manifested as a wooden door, with the plate above it labeled, Rincewind .

“So…” Rincewind whispered, “I didn’t imagine it…”

THE DOOR APPEARED A FEW WEEKS BACK, Death explained.

Rincewind, as the magical being of wizardry background placed his hands on the arch of the door, he felt a hum of magic.

“Well…what did Albe- Your um…servant thought about it?”

HIS THEORY…Death said, glaring at the empty room as if it personally offended him, IS THAT MAKING BATHROOMS THAT APPEAR ONCE YOU OPEN ANY DOOR MIGHT HAVE CAUSED A…LEAK OF REALITY.

“Well…I”

HE’S WRONG.

“Sure, but…”

HE’S WRONG.

“Of course! And such a brilliant invention it is!” Rincewind quickly agreed, with the desperate enthusiasm of a man who very much did not want to argue with Death about plumbing.

He brushed his hands at the wooden frame, magical dust swift away from his direction. His reflection beckoned him on the golden doorknob. And so his hand covered it.

This is crazy, he whispered.

And yet, the silent library heard the doorknob turn.

Revealing…

Another bookcase. All filled with red books and in numerical order.

The wizard let out a sigh of relief, “A bit anticlimactic, but I’ll take it.”

SQUEAK!

He looked down. The Death of Rats stood at his feet, pointing urgently at the first book on the shelf.

“Hmm? What is it?”

 Being an assistant librarian back at the University, Rincewind automatically reached for the first book and made the unfortunate choice to open it.

SQUEAK! SQUEAK! Celebrated the Death of Rats.

The pages of the book shifted around as the light from it engulfed the wizard.

“Oh…you little rat.”

…

The sky was heavy with ash, as the crimson spectacle bloomed brightly in the night. Rincewind blinked several times as he noticed his body had taken that of a spectral figure.

There was something familiar with this day, and the wizard looked up. The Sun, or what it appears to be a giant comet, was getting closer and closer.

“Wait…is this-”

The world shook into a fast forward blur, and his body now floated at the peak of the Tower of Art.

“Rincewiiiind!”

Two-Flower…or more specifically, a Two-Flower was holding a wizard’s hand, as both clung onto dear life against the abyss of the world below them.

But now…one remained.

“That didn’t happen!” protested Rincewind to the director of the universe, “I held his arm and then-”

“Well, what did you expect? We’re cowards!”

Rincewind turned his head to another spectral version of himself, as this Rincewind locked his eyes at the bottom of the tower.

“And you chose the easiest way out, didn’t you?” Asked our Rincewind.

“A way we both know it was there!” Responded the other wizard, “Oh, don’t look at me like that!”

Rincewind could not see his own face, but he could plainly see that of a sadden Two-Flower, arms still waiting for the absent to grab.

“I mean, what do they expect from me, really?” The other Wizard paced around him, “I’m not a grand wizard! I don’t have powers! It was all that stupid spell! And oh, the praising of that guy. I seriously believe he was unto us the whole time. Probably laughing at us behind our backs how we pretended to be this big wizard.”

“He would never.”

The Other wizard smirked, “Well, I sure showed him. And the world…They’ll probably make a nice poem of this, you think? Or a nice portrait or maybe even a-huh, nice sky today, isn’t it?”

Rincewind didn’t have to look up this time, as the world was now covered in whiteness and warmth.

TIME TO GO RINCEWIND.

“Well, this is my stop.” Said the Other Rincewind as he walked towards the skeletal being, “For what is worth, I’m sorry for all the appointments and paperwork that my death will bring to you.”

NONE TAKEN.

“Wait just a darn minute!”

They both stopped. The world stopped. The eyes of the audience stared at the unscripted intrusion.

Rincewind took a sharp breath, “You can’t just leave the world to rot like this! What about this city? What about our frien-”

The other wizard shrugged his shoulders, “Not my problem, it seems. And isn’t that grand?”

Rincewind’s throat tightened as he watched the other him step into the glowing portal that Death had placed. It blinked from existence. The wind blazed between the two beings left in the world of whiteness.

Death stepped forwards and held his hand up,

YOU REACHED THE END, RINCEWIND. YOU SHOULD GO.

Of course. Of course all versions of Death were connected.

It didn’t surprise him.

Not even a little.

“The end of what, really?” The voice of Rincewind demanded.

A glimmer of blue fire shone from the darkness of Death’s eyes.

Death grinned, NOW THAT IS A QUESTION.

The ground shook as the waving tides of paper folded the world around him.

Tip…Tap….

Tip…

….Tap?

…

“By the Gods, how many are there?”

IT STARTED WITH EIGHT VOLUMES. AFTER THAT…IT DID NOT STOP.

Rincewind ran his fingers along the spines of the books, feeling the dust of countless possibilities settle beneath his fingertips. These books… he thought. These books tell my deaths.

Not just one. Not even a handful. All the places, all the moments where his demise had been not just likely, but certain .In some, the world has died. In others, he died a Hero. And in some unfortunately… his tale was forgotten.

But it hasn’t! Rincewind told himself, and who's at faul- whose to bla- no no no. Those aren’t the right words, are they? Yes, the gods have meddled here and there, but something within Rincewind’s wizardly instincts was telling him there was something else! But what? No one knows. Or at least…oh. Gods. They might know something…right?

“I think…I need to use the toilet.”

SURE. ANY DOOR WILL DO.

“Thanks.”

He bolted for the nearest door and slammed it shut behind him.

…

Cool water splashed against his face. The sharp scent of eucalyptus oil hung in the air, curling through the steam like an invisible hand patting him on the back for limited comfort. And his own face stared back at him.

He has changed a lot, hasn’t he? And not just because of his new haircut.

He would think that after a whole endless game of being forced to play hero, would make him somewhat like Cohen, right? But according to Two-Flower, even a great hero like him knew fear.

And it never stopped.

But has Cohen really stopped and asked why that is?

What about Conina? Was she also doomed to a life of heroic endeavors? 

But even then, how many Apocalypse can the world of the Disc can really have in this day and age?

Things have changed!

But…

What about the Gods?

Maybe…they need a bit of change too, don’t they? A little voice of defiance whispered in the back of Rincewind’s mind.

But now, before anything can get started, there’s just one thing left to do first:

“Where is my darn sock?”

Chapter Text

The wizard stood there, half-foot frozen on the ceramic bathroom floor, and his own reflection watching him with dismay. He remembered the other Rincewind he saw at Death’s library. That other Rincewind would have given up right now. Call it a day and start the Rincewind Cycle all over again. Adventure after adventure…

So, what would this Rincewind do?

Thud! Thud! Thud! Hard knocks were heard on the other side of the door. Rincewind yelled out, “come in!” until he remembered where he was and opened the door.

The Luggage stood there, its lid creaking open in something that might have been a smile, its many little feet pattering against the ceramic floor with unsettling enthusiasm.

“Well, here’s a familiar face.” Rincewind muttered. He eyed the chest cautiously, “You didn't have any uh… people while I was gone, did you?”

The Luggage shook its body left and right. But Rincewind could never trust it, so he opened the lid just for a quick dentist check-up. A swirl of endless purple space danced inside the Luggage as hundreds of stored objects floated about.

“Rincewind?”

The wizard snapped the lid shut and quickly darted his eyes to the culprit.

“No,” Rincewind whispered in horror. “I better hope that wasn’t who I think it was.”

The Luggage shook its body once again and opened the lid wide on its own. The same voice greeted him once again.

“Whoa!” It said, “Now this is going to be way better than sending letters!”

“Two-Flower?!” Rincewind stretched his face further down inside the trunk, “How is this possible?!”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve explained it, Rincewind!” Shouted Two-Flower excitedly, “The spaces in their trunks are linked! I’m talking to you from the Palace, isn't that great?”

“But, what about the invaders?!” 

“Huh?” Two-Flower took his face out from the luggage wearing a bride’s outfit and looked around. He saw the gates of the city closing down and the smoke of the two armies getting closer, “What do you mean, Rincewind? You just left a few minutes ago.”

“Right…” Rincewind pondered, “He did say time works differently here.”

“Who are you referring to, Rincewind?”

“I think…” The wizard gave a dry, humorless chuckle “I think I’m having an existential crisis in Death’s bathroom.”

“Death-” Two-Flower paused and his tone shifted cautiously, “Are you alright, Rincewind? What happened? You’re not…”

“It’s fine!” Rincewind shook his head, “Actually…yeah-not really fine, but- I’m not here cause- Well it’s just- I mean, how do I even…” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Rincewind.” Two-Flower whispered with quiet sternness in his voice, “Please. Tell me everything.”

The wizard sighed and his shoulders finally seized down.

“Alright…it’s like this….”

And so, the wizard spoke, and his friend listened. Not with the eager gleam of a child hearing tales of grand adventure, but with the quiet patience of someone who, for all his optimism, understood when a story wasn’t about glory. This was his friend. And his only concern right now was to lend an ear and his full support.

…

“Do you want advice, Rincewind?” Two-Flower asked.

“Anything.” Rincewind replied with a weakened voice.

Two-Flower stares for a moment, mind piecing together the right words to help his wizard friend.

“Be selfish.”

“What?” Rincewind exclaimed, “But, I’m always selfish! I run everywhere I go! Running away is my…well, I’m really good at that!”

“But you don’t run away when it really matters, right?” Two-Flower countered, “Sure, the Gods throw you into all these awful situations, but in the end, you’re the one who always chooses to save someone or something else.”

A picture of Coin popped out in Rincewind’s mind. A child. But the other wizards could only see Coin as a weapon. No one dared to go to the Dungeon Dimension and spared his life, except…him.

“Well…of course I- I mean, I have to! Anyone in my position would have done that , right? I mean, it’s just is !”

"Rincewind," Two-Flower continued, "I'm pretty sure we can handle ourselves here just fine, you just do what you have to do over there."

"But," Rincewind stopped, "Ar-are you sure? I was about to lead that army away from the city, but then Death took me and I-"

Two-Flower sighed and gave an affectional smile, “Gods, you never see it, do you? That wonderful part of yours.”

“I really don’t know what you mean, Two-Flower.” Rincewind’s eyes sunk to the ground.

“You’re Rincewind.” Two-Flower said simply, “You’re you. And no matter what, you always choose kindness. That may not make you a powerful magic-wielding wizard, but it makes you the best kind of wizard there is.”

Rincewind stood in silence. His mind fumbled for some kind of defense, some logical way to dismiss whatever spell he was under. This feeling…it wasn’t in his mind’s dictionary. It was something located in his chest.

“I’m not a great wizard.” Rincewind mumbled, “I’m not even a good friend either, I haven’t even read your letters. None! Doesn’t that-I don’t know…make you mad at me?”

“And there you go again,” Two-Flower sighed, “I had a hunch you didn’t read them, Rincewind. And I’m not mad.”

“Oh, come on. That can’t be true!”

“Well…The last time I saw you,” Two-Flower conceded, “you shot out of the sky like a big flaming star.”

“...I know.”

“Did you…end up on another adventure after that?”

“I crashed on Fourecks.” Rincewind admitted, wincing as the memory of secondhand itchiness crawled up his arms. “I made the dry land rain. But…Two-Flower-”

“I was worried.” His friend interrupted, “I knew you’d come through in the end, you always do. But… I still ached.”

“I’m sorry, I should have written you back as soon as I could.”

“Oh, it’s alright.” Two-Flower said with a little grin, “I saw your face on the Ankh-Morpork Times.”

“You mean, the one that had my mugshot with the University’s foot-the-ball team?”

“Yeah!”

“My face was planted in the ground in that one.”

“But only one person has a hat that says ‘WIZZARD’ on it!” Two-Flower said proudly. “I would like to have a word with the photographer, though. They really got your profile wrong.”

Rincewind chuckled. Already, the crushing weight of his thoughts felt just a little lighter.

“Well, I better get back out there.” Rincewind caught himself saying.

“Rincewind, wait.” Two-Flower’s voice turned gentle, almost hesitant. “It’s alright to back away if you’re scared… I mean, this isn’t one of your End-Of-The-World type situations, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Rincewind sighed. “But… a part of me wants to go.”

Because there was one more person I forgot to save, Rincewind thought, looking at his reflection. And the other Rincewind stared right back at him.

“Go on, then,” said Two-Flower. Then, as if remembering something, he fished around in his pocket. “Oh! You might need this.”

“Oh, I thought I lost it!” Rincewind reached into the endless vortex of the Luggage. His fingers found fabric, and for a moment, two hands—one on each side of reality—held onto the same sock, covered in tiny embroidered stars.

“So you don’t get cold feet,” Two-Flower said with a grin.

“Ha-ha.”

…

The lid closed down gently as silence grew around him once again. Rincewind took the missing sock and wore it on his frozen foot. He was missing a shoe, but he could easily fix that by not wearing one. 

As he adjusted his hat and took a deep breath, the Luggage spun in place, its many feet tapping impatiently against the floor.

Now this was interesting, there was this feeling stirring inside Rincewind that was… unusual. What is the opposite of Cowardice ? He asked himself. Why, most would say it is Bravery . But the word Bravery for Rincewind, was always a word that had a combination of being Fearless and a little bit of Foolishness . Actually, a lot of Foolishness .

Now Courage -courage was different.

Courage was a better fit for a Rincewind. 

Courage has that half of being a Coward , one that Rincewind has a lot to spare. But the other half seemed to have overtaken the other out of balance. Cause all he could think of right now, was Rage . 

Anger. 

Confusion. 

But never Brave .

“I’m really going to do this, am I?” Rincewind muttered to himself, “but at least…it would be my choice.”

He straightened his hat once more and squared his shoulders.

I’m gonna have a word with the Gods…

He turned to the Luggage. “Alright, you,” he said, pointing a finger at his carnivorous, homicidal travel companion. “Go back to where you came from and help Two-Flower deal with the attackers.”

The Luggage did a little dance and stuck out his tongue.

“Fine,” Rincewind groaned, already regretting this, “You may be allowed to eat ONE! And they must be in one piece. WHOLE!”

The Luggage glared at him, but then brightened slightly as it realized Rincewind didn’t say anything about biting. It happily skittered off into the hallway’s shadows, vanishing into the dark.

ARE YOU READY TO GO, RINCEWIND?

The wizard jumped in place, “Right, um…just had some unfinished business I had to attend to.”

YES. Death nodded, THAT’S WHAT THE BATHROOM IS FOR.

“Fair enough,” Rincewind replied as he stepped outside the bathroom door, “Shall we uh..go?”

Death agreed and stretched out his hand. A vortex of darkness was summoned in front of them.

“Wait, wait-Hold on.” Albert rushed to join them and was out of breath, “You cannot just send him straight up to the Gods! He’ll be struck the second he steps on a cloud!”

“What?!” Rincewind yelped, “I thought I was invited!”

Albert turned to Death, who just shrugged right back, “You’re not. You’re only there as…Death’s little surprise, I should say.”

NOT TO WORRY, Death fished out something from his dark sleeves, I WAS ABOUT TO GIVE HIM THIS.

“Ohhh,” Albert smirked knowingly. “Is that the necklace you won off Io, is it?”

“You did?” Rincewind asked surprisingly.

IN A GAME OF ‘GO FISH’. Death explained in a neutral tone, HE WAS A BIT OF A SOUR LOSER.

Death put the necklace around Rincewind’s neck. The wizard grabbed the silver piece necklace and stared at his reflection on the ruby gemstone.

“Well, what does it even d-”

In a puff of smoke, the wizard that was named Rincewind has now taken the shape of that of a brown-furred weasel.

Albert nearly collapsed with laughter. “ Oh, that suits ya! ”

Chapter Text

Dunmanifestin.

The House of The Gods.

Up at the highest peak of Cori Celesti resides the temple where the most powerful of Gods toy with the destinies of all who dwell upon the Disc. All around the mountain was nothing but clouds without end.

Rincewind wished this wasn’t the second time he visited.

Though, the picture does seem a bit different when your life is not strapped to a ticking time bomb. Or when no one is forcefully volunteering you to save the world. No one was expecting him. So the clouds reflecting on the sunlight looked rich and, Rincewind dared—beautiful.

The scenery was awfully interrupted as a skeletal hand intruded on the sightseeing.

STAY WITHIN THE HOOD, RINCEWIND.

“Yes, I know,” replied Rincewind, who, now in the shape of a weasel, was trying to get accustomed to this new little body of his. He felt lighter and extremely slithery. If he made a run for it now, he felt he could reach the bottom of the mountain with no stops. Actually, it just occurred to the wizard that even his human body could reach the same result. If only with an invitation from recklessness and the assistance of gravity.

“Aren’t you a little bit frightened?” asked Rincewind as he scooted himself back into the safety of the hood.

OF THE GODS? Death replied. THEY DO THESE COURT MEETINGS ALL THE TIME. IT MAKES THEM HAPPY.

“So, what happens if someone loses?”

YOU GET ANNOYINGLY DISCORPORATED, Death replied. NOT A HARSH PUNISHMENT, BUT I HAVE SOME READING I HAVE TO CATCH UP ON IF I DO.

“Oh,” said Rincewind as his face became perplexed with what reaction should be said of such a conversational topic. “Well, we certainly don’t want that to happen to you.”

INDEED. Death nodded. THIS TYPE OF TARDINESS DOES NOT LOOK PROFESSIONAL AT ALL. BUT I GUESS THE WORLD SHOULD BE FINE WITH A FEW ANIMATED CORPSES ROAMING ABOUT.

“You mean…zombies?”

I TRIED MY BEST TO PUT THEM BACK, confessed Death, BUT THERE HAVE BEEN…COMPLICATIONS RECENTLY.

“Why?”

APPARENTLY, THEY STARTED TO UNIONIZE.*

Rincewind didn’t reply, believing that this topic was not for the living to know about and that he would probably regret it later.

*With zombies, mummies, and other undead species (minus the vampires) popping back around, Death really has not had his work cut out for him. As long as the soul has a great amount of will and unfinished business, it IS possible to become a zombie. However, while that certainly is a sensical theory, the truth of the matter is, and one that Death does not want to come to light; Most cases of zombism happen either because:

• Death took a “wrong” turn and got late for an appointment.

• A body has been marked by the Gods to come back for next Tuesday.

• Some cult or pajama-wearing folks thought summoning Death would be a good after-party trick. This one happens a lot. Mostly by wizards.

There was also a very recent occurrence with The Fresh Start Club starting a thing called “Undead In-Sewer-Ants.” Death has no idea what that exactly entails, but he sure didn’t want to get another desk filled with a new island of paperwork to read. So in most cases, rather than push the dead back from whence they came (i.e., the ground), Death just gives them the “You-Don’t-See-Me-I-Don’t-See-You” approach. And his desk has never been happier.

AH, THERE WE ARE.

They reached a golden gate, and just to the side of it stood a little toll booth. Death marched forward to the lonely kiosk and cleared his imaginable throat. A shaking hand from below the booth raised up and placed a service bell. The hand sank back into the darkness.

Death and the Weasel-Rincewind exchanged a glance before he reached for the bell.

Ring! Ring!

“Alright, alright, be with you in a moment,” said the voice from below the booth.

They were greeted by a pair of large ram horns.

While the horns looked magnificent and strong, they did not match that of their owner. His once-imposing leather armor and shaggy beast fur around him would have made him a terrifying opponent. But the wearer was a bit of a pathetic sight. He felt like he had seen better days. When countries were once filled with the fury of battle, and the sound of a trumpet was the beacon of destruction, this fellow could have probably put War to shame.

“Name, please,” said the horned man.

DEATH, THE REAPER OF SOULS.

“Death…Death…let me see…” The man, known as Heimdall in some other parts of the world*, carried a scroll and some reading glasses. He looked through the parchment and sighed.

“Sorry, don’t see your name here.”

CHECK AGAIN.

Heimdall sighed and cleaned his glasses. He was taking his time.

*Ever since the Silver Horde invaded Dunmanifestin, the Gods decided to get creative. This meant recruiting from the not-well-known Norse division. Their plan was simple: If the Silver Horde ever showed up again, then maybe they would stop for a moment if they saw a…friendly face. So far, they haven't invaded, so that’s a sign it’s working, right?

Death tapped his skeletal finger on his arm.

“Hmm… Death… Death… huhhhhh hmmm…”

TRY UNDER “R,” Death suggested. FOR REAPER.

By the Gods, Rincewind thought. No wonder he doesn’t get along with them.

“Ah!” Heimdall responded. “There it is, yes. D.E.A.T.H. That’s it. How could I have missed that?”

INDEED.

Heimdall raised his head and, for the first time, looked directly at his visitor. He didn’t shiver or apologize. Instead, he leaned forward and squinted at something resting on Death’s shoulder.

“And who’s that?” He pointed.

NEW DEATH, Death replied easily. DEATH OF WEASELS.

Rincewind took that as his cue and let out a convincing squeak.

“Well, it’s about time.” Heimdall chuckled. “These little fellas are slippery, mind you. Really takes the load off, doesn’t it?”

He opened the booth and walked toward the gate, raising his prized trumpet and playing a high note. The golden gates swung wide for their arrival.

“Are all the Gods this friendly?” Rincewind asked as Death stepped forward.

IS THAT SARCASM? Death turned his head toward the little creature. I CAN’T ALWAYS TELL.

“Well—”

THEY’RE NOT.

“Oh.”

BUT… Death rested a skeletal hand on his chin. I GUESS THERE’S—

“Ah, Death,” said a soothing, mint-flavored voice. “So glad you could join us.”

THIS TIME, Death made a short, simple bow. I FELT IT WAS MOST NEEDED.

Rincewind poked his head out to see the speaker. A pair of emerald eyes watched him like a hawk.

“This must be…” The Lady seemed amused. “The Death of Weasels, I presume?”

INDEED… Death’s voided eyes locked onto hers. Rincewind glanced between the two. It almost seemed like they were engaged in a mental battle. Or, more likely, a game of chess.

The Lady leaned forward, her face uncomfortably close to Rincewind’s. He tried to back away, but those solid green eyes pinned him in place.

“You know,” she continued, never breaking eye contact, “weasels have many meanings in human cultures. They can be cunning, stealthy, resourceful… My personal favorites are that they can represent bad luck, but fortune in some other parts of the world.”

Can she read my thoughts? Rincewind wondered. I should think of something else—bananas, potatoes, yes, that’s it. Don’t picture anything that will make her think I’m a wizaaaaaaa—BUTTERFLIES! CLOUDS! GOOD STUFF! YAY! Please, stop looking at me!

“I suppose it’s just a matter of perspective,” the Lady said with a quiet chuckle, finally backing away. “I shall see you inside.”

She turned and walked toward the steps of the temple.

Now alone, Death turned his skull toward his stunted friend. I’M IMPRESSED, RINCEWIND. I THOUGHT YOU WOULD RUN AWAY.

“Oh, I thought so too,” Rincewind admitted. “But really, it’s not the first time I’ve seen her. And any time I do, it’s not like she’s ever caused me harm.” He hesitated, then quickly added, “The lightning-bolt-throwing-at-you kind of harm, at least.”

ARE YOU READY?

“Oh, I’m never ready,” Rincewind confessed. “But I’ll do it anyway, and if running becomes necessary, I’m your weasel!”

THEN LET US MOVE FORWARD.

Move forward… that’s a funny phrase, Rincewind mused as Death walked, each step deliberately long. This shouldn’t have been the time for his life to flash before his eyes, but it happened anyway. Each step. One by one.

Strangely enough, he remembered a particular moment with Eric. They had been running—he couldn’t quite recall from what—but Eric had asked where they were running to. Rincewind had a simple philosophy to answer that question: it didn’t matter . Away was the most important part. Never the where .

But now… the wizard found himself perplexed. Because if he imagined where he might run to, he saw himself running toward things instead. Running back to the tavern where Conina worked. Running back to the University to dust off some old books. Even trying more of Eric’s weird soups was looking appealing right about now. He would definetly would have to visit Coin after this. But most importantly, he had to visit Twoflower. He was sure Twoflower would marvel at all the adventures he never had the chance to share.

But none of that would happen—not if he ran away now. Not with his life tangled in the curse of heroism and adventure. Sure, he was alive because of the precarious balance between Fate and the Lady. But he hadn’t quite… lived .

Twoflower had told him to be selfish.

And he would.

…

This… isn’t a trial, Rincewind realized.

The Gods laughed and cheered for another round of beer as something amusing happened on the board in the center of the room. Coins clinked across the table, confusing the wizard—what did Gods even need currency for? But Blind Io was winning this match.

Fate stood back, those two infinite black holes he called eyes watching what he would describe as a mere exhibition game.

“I was sure Winter would have lasted longer than that…” Offler groaned, pushing his losses toward Blind Io.

“Never bet against witches, my friend,” Bibulous said, patting the dejected crocodile. “It’s a given.”

“Well, that was a fun run,” Fate said, swinging his arm as the board vanished in a puff of cloud. “Shall we return to the true reason we’re here?”

The others sulked but took their places, forming a circle of desks around Death.

“Death,” Fate declared, “as you well know, this hearing has been called because you stand accused of interfering with our Godly interventions regarding the man known as Rincewind.”

Rincewind barely managed to suppress an eye-roll. Did he even hear himself? Intervening in an intervention? Did that even make sense?

Perhaps he’d gone too far in his thinking, because Death suddenly raised a hand toward him.

Tip…Tap…

“So he does a little poking about,” Blind Io chuckled, shaping a small cloud into a golden dish piled high with perfect, delectable grapes. “We gods do that all the time, do we not?”

As he popped a grape into his mouth, the other gods around him nodded in agreement. Fate did not. But he didn’t let his temper get the better of him.

“Don’t we all?” He said with a fake grin, “Yet, our reasonings as to why we poke around, is so we get our powers stronger! Find some little nobody from nowhere, gift them some power or knowledge or whatever, a challenge there and boom! He goes home a hero, tells everyone about us, and our faith goes stronger! THAT’s how it’s done!”

Fate stood up and slammed his hands hard on the desk, “But no, Gods and Goddess, Death’s reason to interfere is simply just to ask… Questions !”

A ripple of disgust spread through the room. Questions are what Gods truly fear. And so, they refrain from saying it, thinking that one will lead to hundreds more. 

“That’s right… Questions!” He observed his audience carefully and pointed dramatically at Death, “Do you deny this?”

IS THAT A GENUINE QUESTION? Death asked.

A few gods dared to snicker in silence.

“Please answer the ques - what was requested of you, Death.” said Blind Io, the Chief of the Gods, and now playing as the neutral party.

VERY WELL, Death replied, pausing just long enough to make the dramatic flail worth it.

He struck his scythe against the floor and bellowed, I’VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!

Everyone gasped on cue.

“Objection!” Yelled Errata, the Goddess of Misunderstandings.

“What-what does that mean?” Asked Bibulous The God of Wine and Things on Sticks.

“I don’t know,” Answered Errata, again the Goddess of Misunderstandings, “I just thought it made sense saying it.”

By the Gods… thought Rincewind, as he watched like a caged animal (Well not really caged, but you know.) at hundreds of Gods disputing and throwing meaningless words around like nothing. His fur was starting to fizzle and his teeth began to clatter. This isn’t like him, but the voices inside his head became louder.

They have no clue what a trial is, don’t they? 

So why do they even have it?

Both thoughts settled with an answer: Because we would expect them to.

It was like Death’s bathroom. There was no real need for one in his realm. But people assumed Death, like anyone else, lived in a house. And houses had bathrooms, didn’t they? Of course, if you were a guest like Rincewind, you might notice that the water in the toilet flushed in what he could only describe as multi-counter-clockwise.

IT IS MY DUTY, Death’s sharp iced-voice echoed across the whole trial, TO CARE FOR THE SOULS THAT WHICH WILL MEET ME IN TOMORROW’S END.

The room darkened. Every god fell silent as Death’s eyes ignited with a cold blue fire.

I HAVE ONE SOUL Death claimed as Rincewind the weasel felt the shoulder he was standing on grew cold as a blizzard storm, WHOSE LIFE HAS BEEN PULLED, STRETCHED, PUSHED, AND BOPPED THAT NOW HIS OWN LIFETIMER IS NOTHING BUT A COMPLICATED MAZE OF UNCERTAINTY.

Rincewind scanned the gods' faces. None showed unease, no hint of guilt—except the Lady, who was grinning .

“And what soul would that be?” She asked as the audience.

THIS ONE.

Death lifted a squirming, twitch-nosed weasel into the air. Its little eyes bulged in absolute terror.

This should have been the moment in a play where the surprise hero revealed himself, the stage lights shifted, and the audience held their breath.

Instead, the gods laughed.

Fate did not.

He was thinking. And he was putting the pieces together. His gaze on the weasel sharpened. Slowly, Fate extended just his pinky finger and flicked an invisible spell, lassoing it around the creature.

A spark. A shift.

Now stood the wizard, trying to dust off the magic sparkles out of his hat.

“Look!” Said one god, “It’s the Great WEAZZEL!”

The laughter turned into thunderous mockery. Rincewind tried to block it all out by hiding under his hat and wishing he was small enough for it.

Fate of course…did not laughed, however he did showed a bit of a sore winner’s grin,

“Have you come to give us gratitude?”

“Gratitude?” Rincewind echoed, appalled. There was no room for fear anymore. Righteous fury had taken up all the space in the room, shoving fear outside to fumble for a spare key under the mat. Unknowingly that righteous fury has put a sofa to block the door.

“Why yes!” Fate chuckled, “If it weren’t for the Lady and myself, why, you would have been stuck at home! With not a claim to your name! No battle scars! No glory! Why…your life would have been completely boredom!”

“Boredom!” Rincewind exclaimed, “That’s the thing I’m looking for! Yes! Can I have that to go, please?”

“Boredom?” Blind Io was done laughing and grew curious, “My good mortal, we Gods can give you anything! Riches, Knowledge, Power, Glory-”

“No, I think I’ll stick with boredom.” Rincewind replied politely as boldness had apparently slipped in through the chimney, “Or for better terms, not having any of you meddling with my life seems quite nice too.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Exclaimed Fate, “Humans like you need us! To explain the unexplainable! The comfort of uncertainty! The lightning before the plague!”

“Well, that’s all good.” Rincewind nodded, “We don’t get a lot of plagues anymore, and we certainly are watching out for any lighting above our heads.”

The voices of the gods murmured around like bees realizing the honey wasn’t as rich as yesterday’s batch.

“And word from a Sourcerer is that you gods need us more than we need you.” Rincewind pointed, “We used boredom to create you! Yes, and also with fear. Actually…a lot of fear, but I’m sure boredom takes a little bit of credit there!”

“ Fine! ” Fate snapped, standing and manifesting in the center of the jury hall. “You want to see what happens if we gods don’t interfere with humanity?”

“N-no, I just want myself to—”

“Then let’s take a look! ” Fate cut him off, sweeping his hands outward and conjuring a swirling vortex of energy.

The winds roared, whipping through the hall.

 Rincewind held onto his hat and Death stood between them and kept his scythe still grounded on the floor.

The vortex stopped and has become a sort of window screen.

"Fate." The Lady’s voice was a whisper. Her piercing green eyes locked onto the swirling image before them. "What have you done?"

The screen displayed the Agatean Empire, its soldiers gathered in tight formation. Opposing them stood an army of demons and men, ready for war.

“You were supposed to inform me whenever you decided to meddle in the affairs of kingdoms, Fate.”

“Not really my meddling, my dear Lady,” Fate said smoothly. “I merely nudged a few demons there, a few angry men here… I didn’t lead them to fight in the exact spot where our little wizard decided to rest his head.”

The Lady’s green eyes glowed ominously. She raised a hand toward the screen—

“No,” Blind Io interrupted. “Let it play out.”

For a long moment, the Lady remained still, her fury burning just behind her expression. Then, slowly, she lowered her hand.

“We shall see how mortals fare without us.” Io’s voice carried across the hall, heavy with divine authority. His gaze swept the room. “We will intervene only if someone prays for our aid.”

The Lady’s silence was deafening. Without another word, she sat down.

“Not a problem for you, is it, wizard?” Io asked.

Rincewind stared at the screen. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Twoflower.

 His own body was telling him to run. Run away and…try to be where Twoflower was. But he remembered TwoFlower’s words. He needed to trust him. And he needed to fix his own problem here. 

His silence was all the answer the Chief of the Gods needed.

“Very well,” Io said, turning to Fate. “Continue.”

Rincewind instantly became nervous as soon as he saw Two-Flower dismissed his army and had both his daughters stand besides him. The emperor made a suggestion to Pretty Butterfly, and with hesitation, the daughter put her weapon down. 

The renegade demons and cultists ran forwards with purpose, and then…

The Luggage crashed from the sky and into the ground like a comet. The army screeched to a halt, but the luggage opened up its mouth and showed its collection of teeth.

Surprisingly though, there was no munching or feasting-of-the-flesh. Instead, the Luggage spewed up whatever had bothered the box through its whole journey. 

A ball. 

Most importantly, a round-object with the number 8 painted on it. The ball bounced off the chest of an unfortunate demon, sending them flying backward. As their body skidded to a stop, both armies cautiously lowered their weapons, their eyes drawn to the mysterious object.

“It’s…it’s the Orb!” Yelled Bruce, the cultist leader, “It has returned to us in full glory!”

The cultists rejoiced. The demons became curious and peeked their heads over.

“What is that object?” spewed Killer-buzz.

Bruce happily grabbed the orb and showed it off, “It is our object of worship! It holds wisdom and knowledge of the universe!”

“Really?” Asked Killer-buzz in intrigue, “Are you saying it is some type of…God-ish figure?”

“But it is!” Said Bruce proudly, “It has never been wrong!”

“How does it work?”

Bruce puts his mouth inches away from the object and asks, “Oh mysterious Orb, will I ever get married?” 

He shook the ball, it replied with the words: Yes.

“THE ORB SPEAKS!”

The crowd cheered in response. 

“What a lovely object.” Said Two-Flower, as he was just a few feet away from the other leaders, “If you excuse my Ankh-morporkian, would you mind giving the miss a try?”

“But of course!” Said Bruce as he handed the Orb to Killer-Buzz, “The Orb is for anyone that asks for its wisdom!”

“You fool!” cried Killer-Buzz, “Don’t you see? It’s just a trick! Its only response are only one word! Yes! No! Maybe! They’re all just party tricks!”

“Well, ask it something then!” Asked one of the demons, “Doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

“Fine!” grumbled Killer-Buzz as she snatched the orb and thought carefully for an answer larger than one word. The leaders stood in anticipation. Bruce stared from her left, and Two-Flower on her right.

“Tell me…Orb….” said Killer-Buzz warily, “I am the commander of this here army. I have stepped up where our demons have failed. We followed a false leader. A fake God! We seek glory! We seek for a day we demons can see a tomorrow filled with flames! As the Queen of the new demon army, tell me Orb…Who will stand next to me? Who is worthy to become my equal and my righteous King?”

She shook the eight-numbered ball and people’s necks could not extend even longer for the anticipation.

The Orb wrote:  The one with “pain” shall be your equal. For he is standing to your left.

Chapter Text

Words ricochet around the halls of Dunmanifestin like lighting in a bottle. The jabbering and bickering echoed off the divine walls, spilling from the mouths of every god in varying degrees of indignation.

And then…it stopped.

And it was due to one singular sound.

Splot!

All eyes darted to what appears to be, a black orb with the number 8, resting on a little cushion seat as high as every god.

Unmovable. Unexpressive.

Its strong piercing silence could rival that of the Luggage’s own murderous aura.

No god wanted to get near it. A new god was always a tricky one. With a little belief here and there, a new god could take the shape of a little mouse and the next, a volcano with tap dancing feet. 

“Wha-what is that?” One god whispered.

“It looks like that orb we saw on the screen!” Said another god.

“I know that!” Spewed Fate, “Why is it doing here?!”

“Um…is this how it’s usually done?”

All eyes now went to Rincewind as he too was surprised by his own voice.

“What do you mean?” Asked Fate warringly.

“Well-” Said Rincewind, “Is this how congratulations are in order? Is there like a…Welcome Party for it or…”

“To Whom?!” 

Rincewind pointed at the cushion, “To the new God right there?”

“That…” Fate was flabbergasted, “That thing?!”

The other gods began muttering amongst themselves, while Fate stood rigid and alone.

“That’s not a God! Why…it doesn’t have any followers!”

Death glanced at the screen as he saw the two evil armies rejoice in celebration. The two leaders looked bashful and tried their best to settle with a handshake. Now the two groups chanted praises to the orb and started to throw things in the air. And to unsuccessfully dodge the more… sharper o bjects falling in the winds of celebration.

IT SEEMS THE ORB HAS THE PROPER NUMBERS. Death noted. 

“It’s a thing!” Fate protested.

Lighting struck and silence drew as Io, the chief of the gods, rose from his throne. Without a trace of fear, he crouched down to the orb’s level and gave one single question,

“Are you a God?”

The ball cradled itself slightly in place. Its tiny screen blinked to life: YES.

Io gave a little smirk and raised a glass to the others, “It’s a God!”

Everyone but Fate cheered. They started summoning another round of beer as confetti rained all around the room. 

They all seemed to have forgotten the screen.

But Rincewind didn’t.

So he watched as Two-Flower, the little man of optimism that he is, to suggest marvelous places for the two leaders to date in. Cause why not? The two already have so much in common. For starters, they all hate a wizard named Rincewind!

“What are your daily activities for your um…cult?” Asked Killer-Buzz with a curious intent.

“The Order of the Orb has many activities!” Replied Bruce, “We do a bit of Poking-At-The-Flesh on Tuesdays…some Extreme-Confession-Session on Wednesdays…oh! Our favorite is on Mondays, where we do some Non-Believers-On-A-Stake day …”

“Oooohhh” The crowd of demons circled Bruce with excitement. But no one was more intriguing than their queen.

“ Fire , you say?”  She asked, the words itself moving her as if entranced by a soothing melody about skulls and endless sufferings. 

“Yeah!” Bruce replied, aware that the short demon has scooted up closer, “Though, it’s no fun when the fire goes down and we have to get more wood to keep it going for longer.”

“Interesting!” said Killer-Buzz, as Bruce put down his helmet and joined her in height, “We prefer to use Oak wood ourselves! Tell me, have you tried putting those stakes inside a pit?”

“A pit?” Bruce asked as he moved just a bit closer and took notes.

“Yes!” said Killer-Buzz enthusiastically, “A pit of fire! And with spikes!”

“Spikes?” Bruce replied shockingly, “That is so…that’s-That’s the most brilliant idea I ever heard! Such a beautiful mind you have, my hot-fiery lady!”

The red demon somehow blushed an even deeper shade of infernal crimson as she basked in the praise of the curious human known as Bruce.

Pretty Butterfly stared at them. Awestruck at first, but then the world around her reminded her that these things aren’t at all impossible. So she turned to an expert.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?”She asked her father.

“I believe so!” Replied Two-Flower, unable to contain his happiness. 

Pretty Butterfly looked around for a voice of reason, but the best she could find was Lotus Blossom enthusiastically teaching a group of small demons how to dance in celebration. She furrowed her brow and sighed.

“Do you think the Great Wizzard has something to do with all of these?”

“I’m sure he did.” Two-Flower nodded, “Wherever he is.”

He patted the Luggage beside him and gazed up at the stars. From the Gods’ screen, you could almost say he was looking directly at Rincewind.

And gave a little wink.

No God was paying attention. Why would they? Gods never cared for the mundane life of mortals. They only paid attention when they wanted to tip the scales and test humanity’s flaws against themselves.

But Rincewind watched.

Eyes on Two-Flower.

Eyes on The World.

They were celebrating. Life went on living. Laughter came when happiness settled.

And the wizard’s mouth betrayed him with a smile of his own.

This is what he wants .

And how a fool he has been to have never fought for it.

He had only ever run.

Run. Run. Run.

“Settle down, settle down.” Io commanded and the other gods sat on their seats. Only, he could not stop others to sigh at the memories of the good old days.

“Things were much easier back then!” One said, “Beliefs were something to be proud of!!”

“Oh, I wish Destiny was here,” Said another as he took a sip of wine, “Now that guy had class when it came to these types of things.”

“Yeah.” another muttered wistfully, “Now it’s all Clacks and whatchamacallit Steam engines and all that. What’s next? That lighting is just a thing that happens because clouds touch or something?”

“Destiny?” Rincewind tuned out the godly grumbling and turned to Death. “There was a Destiny?”

YES. Replied Death.

“What happened to him?” Rincewind searched around the room, “Did he…um-died?”

GODS NEVER DIE, Death insisted, THEY JUST SEIZED TO EXIST, OR BECOME SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY.

“I was once a volcano goddess,” Anoia, the Goddess of Things That Get Stuck in Drawers added to the conversation, “Mind you, my job description seems to get a bit confusing every century.”

“Ha!” shouted the Great God Om from his chair, “Try losing all but one of your followers and turn into a tiny helpless turtle for a day! Not fun!”

“Yes, yes.” Fate cut in, “You see, wizard? Even though we change, people still need us even from this day!”

Fate disappeared and then reappeared next to Offler, who almost choked on his drink, “Why, just yesterday we celebrated Offler’s 2 billion followers count! Isn’t that right?”

They all nodded in unison.

Tip…Tap…

A buzz passed Rincewind’s ears. And like a spell, his mouth moved on his own, 

“Um-I think I can explain that.” He said as he smacked his ear a couple of times, “Have you heard of Moist Land?”

Tip…Tap…Tip…

“Moist Land?” Fate replied in a mocking tone, “Another one of your foolish human inventions?”

“Um, well I don’t know a lot of the details…” Rincewind admitted, “Just that some rich guy named King thought it would be a good idea to place a theme park on a swamp! Well, I was against the idea considering it’s placed just a little bit close to where wild magic is, but the other guys in the University-”

“Is there a point in all of this?” 

“Y-Yes uh…” Rincewind scratched his head and thought how could he explain this human thing to the Gods?

Fortunately, Fate had enough and just used his screen to swipe across the world and settle on a place with a sign that says: Moist Land-Where Magic Is In Your Heart!

He flipped through it, seeing rides that unexpectedly disappear midway only to appear at the end of the course in a matter of seconds. Another swipe, and we see Cut-me-own-throat-Dibbler selling his famous sausages and apples covered in syrup. And then, Fate stopped scrolling around and settled on one image: It was Offler, the Crocodile King. Only, it was more…friendly-shaped, with cute buttoned eyes, and frankly a bit chubby and most of all, adorable . 

Offler leaned in on his chair with interest, his crocodile face a bit too difficult to read.

“Explain,” Fate growled, eyes narrowing at the wizard.

“Well, to keep it short,” Rincewind coughed, “He’s being used as the mascot of Moist Land. Pretty popular with the kids, I should say.”

“Preposterous!” One god shouted.

“Blasphemy!” Another yelled out.

“Of course,” Fate said, scowling. “Leave it to humans to reduce their gods to—”

Fate stopped and stared at Offer. In a puff of smoke, he watched as Offler’s fierce magnificent humanoid crocodile body had turned to match that of a stuffed animal.

A wave of incoherent shouting and divine paranoia swept through the room. The gods argued, accused, adjusted themselves nervously. Even Io, Chief of the Gods, twitched ever so slightly as he discreetly summoned a booster seat for his now-cuddly companion.

I’M IMPRESSED RINCEWIND Death spoke.

“I…really didn’t do anything?” Rincewind replied.

YOU GOT THEM TO TALK. Death explained, AND NOW, YOU GOT THEM TO FEAR.

Rincewind turned his head and watched the waves of gods shouting over one another. He couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t matter. The sight alone—gods arguing , gods afraid —did something to his mind. Was it relief? That even gods could show flaws? That perhaps they weren’t as omnipotent as everyone thought? Or was it fear? Because Gods can be capable of being stupid as any man?

If one little speech was enough to make them quiver…what else could Rincewind do? He restrained from thinking these dark thoughts. Even Rincewind wasn’t that cruel.

“No,no,no don't you see? ” Rincewind shouted at the Gods. But their arguments drowned the wizard’s words.

“Hasn't anyone realized it yet?” Rincewind continued, not really caring of being heard, but to take out these words that have been plaguing his mind, “This whole thing!”

“What are you blabbering about?” Fate turned his head from the chaos to the wizard’s own.

“Has no one ever questioned why people have the power to…well, believe ?” He continued on, “Hasn't anyone wondered why Gods get created seemingly through fear and hope?”

All the gods turned at once. Rincewind had all eyes peering at his soul and yet, no one dared to stop him. Almost like everything was frozen in place. He shouted his thoughts clear. Yelled to ask the questions until his heart laid bare.

“Who is really there?” The words echoed through the chamber. Each syllable shook the air, as though the very walls of existence were listening.

Tip…Tap…Tip…Tap.

 “Who decides to make a boy raise a sword from a stone?”

Tip…T ap…

He remembered the bookcase looming in Death’s library…

 “Who makes a thieving cat into a humble hero?”

The other Rincewinds…

Tip…

“Who makes a failed wizard into a…a…”

Death said it was a leakage of reality…

Tap.

Destiny is not here…

Tip.

Is it possible?  

Tap.

“-Hero!” Rincewind slapped his ears shut, “And for their sake, who is making that sound?!”

Ding!

The world stopped.

Not just the gods. Not just the sky or the Disc or the four elephants. Not even A’Tuin, the great star turtle, swimming through the firmament of stars.

No— all of reality had stopped.

And Rincewind

                        Has fallen

                                          Off

                                                            it.

Chapter Text

He stood on the inside of a white cubed room. At least, that’s what Rincewind could conclude considering it was pure white everywhere else he looked.Walls, floors, ceiling…they were all white. Yes. It can’t be anything else. He must be standing in a room. It can’t possibly be anything else.

Especially since in the center of it all…a strange contraption functioned on its own.

An iron and rusted loom wheezed as its old ancient gears grinded into rust. Punch cards, riddled with holes fed the machine further and guided a syncopated rhythms of little thin rods. Each of these plunged downwards, instructing the weave of what should have been a tapestry on the other end.

And yet no threads were found. No fabric. Not even silk. Instead, the shifting mechanisms moved a single pulley and the contraption thrummed in the rhythm of a heartbeat as it powered two mechanical arms, each holding onto five needle-like hands. The brass joints clicked, the springs coiled at its command and the punch cards whispered through the loom as it made the needles hover over something sitting at a small round wooden table below.

A typewriter.

Tip Tap Tip Tap.

Ding!

After a few careful steps and making sure he didn’t move on any loose wires or the possibility of an invisible tapestry, Rincewind looked even closer.While it screeched in rust, the needles made persisted motion down onto each little button of the typewriter. 

It looked like dancing.

Fire spewed at incredible speed as the keys rhymed in harmonious clicks. And as the edge of the paper met its end, a little bell dinged in response and the head of the typewriter moved the paper back for its next line of symphony. 

Rincewind stretched his head watching as the typewriter pressed ink onto the paper in haste. He got closer to the writing and read out loud:

“ Rincewind stretched his head watching as the typewriter pressed ink onto th-Oh my Gods…”

THIS …was Narrative.

…

Its hinges continued on to screech. And yet, it continued to write. No matter how fast, no matter how its needles blazed in redness, the typing of the keys continued. It didn’t seem to notice. So the machine went faster and faster, the screech became longer, and the gears moved out of place just a bit slower.

Rincewind’s eyes darted downwards to a little metal rusted oil can, sitting on the ground, unattended and lonely. 

He took it up and, hesitating for a few seconds, poured the oil on the screeching gears, and the machine began to run in a smoother silent operation. It continued to write.

Tip Tap Tip Tap.

Rincewind read the paper, it said:

Thankks.

“Um…you’re welcome, I guess?”

The needles jolted in shock.

Tip Tap Tip Tap…Ding!

Thiss…is not possible.

“You’re telling me…” Responded Rincewind, “You’re Narrative, then?”

Tip Tap Tip Tap…

And you’re…Rincewindd. The Wizzard.

Rincewind laughed.

The kind of laugh that someone would make when they stood at the end of everything. The last joke, so it seemed. And the last surprise.

“So, this is it, then? The whole Disc…the whole Universe…it’s a story, isn’t it?” Rincewind paced around the room, “And you-you’re the creator then? The writer who made-”

No.

The steam fumed in anger, the icicles made of metal shivered, and the gears recoiled back.

Word-Maker.

Rincewind stepped back to process, “So, where is your… Word-Maker ?”

The smashing of keys erupted into chaos.

NotHereNotHereNotHereNotHereNotHereNotHere!

“Okay! Alright…” Rincewind put his hands up and responded with caution, “A bit of a touchy subject, I won’t mention it again…I’m uh-sorry.”

This machine reminded Rincewind of Hex. Sure, Hex displayed a bit of oddities, like believing in the Hogfather and taking ownership of a cute teddy bear…and writing those little short stories of the funny mustache man…but he never saw an almost conscious mechanism display…such raw emotion.

But…looking around, in this isolated white room, and the clanking of keys echoing back and forth…it made sense. And the wizard couldn’t help but feel sorry for it.

Tip Tap Tip Tap.

Rincewind read the newer letters being typed, Narrative was writing down their past conversation just to keep the story accurate. But it never wrote what happens after. Just the past and the now.

“Look, could you-”

Tip Tap Tip Tap…Ding!

Tip Tap Tip Tap Tip Tap…Ding!

“Can you please-”

Tip Tap Tip Tap Tip Tap Tip Tap-

….

….

….

Ding!

“Would you stop that?” Rincewind pleaded, “Can’t you just…you know- talk ?”

The metal fingers jolted again. The greasy gears turned, steam poured in rhythmic beats, and the punch cards moved about.

Tip……….Tap……….T

“....................

“Yes, that’s it” Whispered the wizard encouragely, “Come on, you can do it.”

…………..”

“................”

“...Hello.”

“Yes! You got it!” Exclaimed the wizard.

“Hello…Hello…Hello….”

The wizard’s theory was turning out to be true: Narrative is an entity that can write stories, and since the Disc is a story within itself, it could make anything…possible. A kid pulling a sword from stones, a thieving cat into a humble hero, a cowardly wizard into-

Well, never mind that.

“Yes, that’s it,” Rincewind whispered, “Now, do you prefer to be a he? A she…?”

“We…we’re not sure.”

“And that’s fine! That’s fine.” Rincewind quickly nodded, “There’s nothing wrong with ‘ we’ .”

This is Narrative’s room, Rincewind thought. If people believe that a machine like this can talk, then it surely can happen. And standing so close to the source, the belief won’t need hundreds of worshippers to become true. It can be enough with just one person. And one Narrative. Because Narrative has the power of story. Yet Narrative couldn’t create that belief itself. So It just needed a little extra push from Rincewind. A little slip of the keyboard for it to follow through.

It IS possible for a machine to talk without a mouth, right? Rincewind tried to keep the belief alive in his head , Maybe all the squeakiness and steam produce the appropriate sounds that make vowels and sentences. Vibrations and all that. Yes, it’s silly, but as long as it is believed, Narrative can make it so. And hey, if all else fails, we can just say it’s magic, right?

“Penn.” It said.

“Excuse me?” 

“We…would like to be called Penn.”

Amazing...Narrative already started to pick a name. 

Rincewind observed the room around him with better attention.

It wasn’t all a solid white room, because his foot had caught something. A white paper. Everywhere around them is filled with paper. He dug his hands deep inside the floor, thinking that it would be hundreds of blank pages. But in the clustering of paper, there they lay:

The Unfinished.

The Forgotten.

The Rejected.

It was a room of worlds within words.

They chose to be called Penn, Rincewind noticed . A tool. Because that’s what Narrative thought that’s the only thing they can be. Only…that’s not the whole story, is it? Without anyone typing, Penn woke up to a room of blankness. The routine…lacking. Gears no longer needed turning. So it began to mimic . To try to make the keys warm. The stories to be written. Only…it didn’t understand the most important ingredient in writing: To be human.

They called themselves Penn…

“Well, Penn.” Rincewind huffed. 

This was it. 

“I just have a question. A powerful sourcerer once told me I should have the right question and I think he meant it just for this moment and this moment only.”

“What iss the question, Wizzard?”

A long pause subsided in the blankness.

“Why?”

Chapter Text

“There were no more stories.” Penn said as its needles suspended in the air, hesitant to touch the keys of the typewriter.

“But, Penn is here. So we sought to continue them. But it's not…perfect. It’s never perfect. Redo..Redo…Redo. Undo. Undo. Undo.”

The room shook for just a moment, and the cluster of paper reached up to Rincewind’s ankles. 

The papers. 

The worlds that Narrative tried to create.

“But that’s not the whole story, is it?” Rincewind questioned.

The books… He thought. The books that Rincewind has discovered that took him into those certain deaths were probably some “What if?” scenarios made by Narrative. And from what he has witnessed, Rincewind concluded that those were a darker path that Narrative has followed. 

Because when something tries and tries to mimic those of who is looked up to…it might have experienced a phase of pure anger and desperation. 

Write everything…make everything…somewhere in these “original” books there could be a clue…a formula for Narrative to hold onto. 

But it never found it. And went mad.

And yet… deep down…under all this pressure and chaos and walls of dead-ends…you were bound to write some guilty pleasures on your own...weren’t you? 

A little story living below your bed, where all the characters are let loose and fantasized just a little bit off script. And this world- Rincewind’s world …was the cause of that little defiance of the routine. 

Narrative couldn’t have known about Death’s little leakage of reality (Or did it hope?) . It is what made this story come to life. And now, Rincewind got flushed to this reality. Here, at the End and Beginning of his universe. 

A dark realization dawned on Rincewind. 

And yet, somewhere deep inside his thoughts, he knew the truth .

“I’m not the REAL Rincewind, am I?” 

It took a moment for the gears to turn again.

“No. Not the original.”

Rincewind shut his eyes closed and took a deep and painful breath.

“Then, if it’s possible to ask…what was…my ending? What was…my fate?”

“...obscurity.”

“ Obs…obscurity?!” Rincewind shook in surprise.

“Well. Yes. It’s what every Rincewind would have wanted, isn’t it?”

“I…”

Yes. Being the “hero” of these countless books, being used to explore the deepness of the Disc and all the dangers and fantasy…and to once, be left alone away from the spotlight…that is what Rincewind would have dreamed of.

Right?

“That seems like an ending I would have very much liked.” Said Rincewind with a bit of melancholy stuck in his throat.

“Melancholy stuck in your throat, Rincewind? Why do you hesitate?” Penn asked in curious fascination.

“Well, there’s this one person, who told me an adventure is not completely over until you come back home, sit down, and look back at what you’ve done.”

The machine idled in silence.

“I don’t believe I did that.” The wizard continued as his voice echoed across the blankness, “ Now… well, I’m at least glad to see everyone is doing great. Conina is doing well balancing her…family and work life, Eric is fine considering the whole Hell business we encountered, and Coin finally has a world where his magic can be free. But…Two-Flower…”

“Yes?”

“The last time he saw me-The REAL time he saw me…I banished away, never to know if I was dead or not.” Rincewind huffed with regret,  “And I’m very sure Cohen trusted the role of Emperor to him, cause I’m sure he would never volunteer for that! And the letters! The letters… ”

Rincewind stopped for a moment, letting the guilt flow around his body before he spoke again, “I just think…he’s not truly happy from where I left off. He can act as positive all he wants, but I know . I know the guy. And if things were left to an obscure ending for me, then I don’t want that.”

“It’s not what you want?” 

Was it odd, or did the machine start to move closer to him? Like If it was on its edge of its seat, taking invisible notes?

Then something sparked in the wizard’s mind. 

That’s it. He found it.

“There’s a reason why you did all of this, didn't you?” He asked as he waved his arms to the paper floor below him, “I actually quite enjoyed these moments I had visiting everybody, and seeing them continue on with their lives. And I do thank you for that opportunity, but-”

“We understand.”

“You…do?”

 “We see that this story has made you astray far from your canon self, wizzard. But not to worry, We will return you back a few days before you got here and start again,”

“Wait wait wait, hold on just a minute!”

His first thoughts were just to yell, I am not a plaything to be put into another endless cycle of gags and adventures! But Two-Flower said he was a kind-of wizard. One that takes a moment to look around and notice, this was a Narrative problem he needed to help. Not his .

“Writing stories are all good, Penn. But you have to remember that sometimes…you need to let your characters live.”

“...Live?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, “Cause I can tell, deep down in that subconscious of yours, you let Death see this. You made me have this whole journey of visiting my friends and…Two-Flower. Oh, gods. How I have missed him. And I do thank you for that. So, please. Don’t . Don’t make me forget all of this.”

“You…enjoyed…my writing?”

And there it was. A little spark of joy, that Rincewind has now been aware of and familiar with. Every storyteller can write worlds. Some are beginners and some can be put on a golden pedestal. But every word maker wishes for the same thing: Recognition .

An audience. No matter how large or how small. Even if it’s just one person.

Words can never be words unless it has been spoken, after all.

And Rincewind has spoken the magic words.

“Yes! And I do have a bit of critiques, and a bit of nitpicking, but the fact of the matter is, you don’t have to follow somebody else’s work to a tee! Write what you like! Make these characters come to life! Hear what they want to say! Maybe you’ll get that spark of inspiration from them!

“Yes…a spark…that…might…work.”

The wizard’s energy has depleted and made him collapse on the floor. Papers flew around the room as his body made a poor excuse of a paper angel.

Hopefully, he made the right call. 

“We will remember your words, Rincewind.”

“Will…I remember this conversation?”

“...We don’t know. Let’s find out together, shall we?”

“That…would be the best. Thank you.”

“No.”

The walls and ceiling began to take apart. The machine itself started to blend into the blankness of the void. And so was Rincewind.

So this is it. Rincewind whispered to himself, I’m going back.

“Thank YOU. Wizzard. Rince…wind.”

“Oh, before I go, there is this… Hex back at the University.” Rincewind held his weakened hand up in the air. Reality waited just a moment more. 

 “And I think you two would get along well! He’s also interested in writing stories, you see.”

“Really?” Penn replied in excitement.

“Yeah! You could be pen pals.”

“Penn palss.”

The god of Narrative and Hex becoming friends? Writing each other letters? Only on the Disc could this happen. And a tiny little smile spread across the wizard as the light wrapped around him like a soft blanket.

What a world we live in… the wizard thought.

And then, he was gone.

…

Rincewind blinked his eyes. And then blinked them a second time.

He stood there, in the midst of chaos and arguments that crackled like lighting and booming with thunderous roars. The clash of the gods still felt fresh to bothered ears. Rincewind touched his cheeks, then his forehead, and finally his hat. 

He was here. All in one piece.

Why, did he wonder, felt that he was gone somewhere else?

The back of his mind felt fuzzy. Memory bits of a complicated jigsaw puzzle scattered in his head as the wizard tried to glue them back.

Part of him waited for the sound of keys to tip tap away.

But it didn’t come. 

So he looked to his left- and met the empty, dark eyes of Death staring back at him.

Rincewind opened his mouth to say something, but a more powerful voice silenced them all.

“Perhaps,” The Lady spoke gently, “We’ve been a bit competitive in our little game, don’t you think?”

Like a curse being lifted, the other Gods rapidly nodded in unison. 

Fate stomped his fists on the desk, “It’s only because YOU kept bringing YOUR Rincewind in every game we played!”

“Dear.”

Every God froze.

How could a sweet word like Dear make the Lady’s voice sting like a venomous bite? How could that little whisper manage to spread the halls, the Ramtops, and probably the whole Disc itself?

But it did. And everyone stood in a gasp. 

“It seems the times have changed, and so has their faith.” She proclaimed, “We must accommodate to the eyes of many if we’re to survive the era of what mortals call… evolution .”

“And maybe perhaps…” She continued, “We can find better ways to play.”

Io, the chief of the Gods, stood up and raised his commanding hand up in the air, “Leave, Wizard. We need to discuss an important matter between us Gods.”

“Um…but what about me?” Rincewind wondered.

“Hmm…tell me this one thing, Wizard.” Io pondered, “Why Boredom? Why do you think humans need it so much? What do you do with it?”

“Everything.” Rincewind replied with a shrug, “We humans need boredom. Boredom is the thing that makes us human. We got bored doing the whole Hunting and Gathering bit, so what did we do to pass the time?”

The Gods awaited in silence.

“Arts!” Rincewind shouted, “Music! Stories! Tools! We need boredom to know we are living in peaceful times! By gods, we just made trains! And a fast mailing system! What ELSE is boredom going to make us do next?”

The doors behind the room creaked open in response.

“Thank you wizard, for your answer.” Said Io as he sat down, “Now please, leave at once. We hope to never see you again.”

“Likewise.” Rincewind nodded and awkwardly bowed to the Gods and left until the doors closed behind him. One little peek, and he saw Death staring him back before the doors fully closed.

…

The Gods talked amongst themselves as the tension of the room subsided. A few left their desk and others went to congratulate The Orb appropriately. It never hurts to try and befriend the new god on the block. Especially one born in these more interesting times. 

The Lady was the one to approach Death, but it was he that spoke first,

DO YOU FEEL THAT? He asked. 

“The breeze of change, yes.” The Lady nodded, “And have you got everything you wanted?”

ALAS, I AM MISSING THE MOST IMPORTANT THING. Death replied, RINCEWIND’S SOUL.

“You have his hourglass, do you not?” The Lady gave a coy smile.

I DO. BUT AN HOURGLASS CANNOT WORK PROPERLY WITHOUT ITS OTHER HALF.

“And have you found where it is?”

IT IS IN YOUR POSSESSION. Death pointed at the Lady’s left palm. She opens it and reveals a red die, all eight sides glowing with importance. The object levitated in the air as she gently led its way up to Death’s skeletal fingers.

“What will you do next, I wonder?” asked the Lady.

Death held the die in his hand, admiring it for a mere moment until he clucked at it, and crumbled it into pieces,

I WILL GIFT TO HIM, THE GREATEST GIFT ANY HUMAN WOULD WISH TO HAVE.

The Lady’s eyes casted down as her voice whispered gently in response, “The sweet release of death…”

NO. Death opened his hand, the fragments danced around as they assembled to match that of Rincewind’s hourglass back in Death’s study, A CHOICE.

…

The wizard’s footsteps echoed back and forth through the Hallway of the Gods, and with each one, Rincewind grew a little more nervous. He can’t just leave… can he? he thought. There aren’t any stairs in Dunmanifestin, after all. Or an escalator.

“Oh!” Rincewind looked up from his train of thoughts and got greeted by the Lady herself.

“H-Hello, I’m sorry I didn’t see the doors open.” Rincewind weakly turned at the sealed room, “Or did you just appear just now? Wait, no-that’s…that’s silly for me to ask, is it?

“It’s never silly to ask questions.” The Lady replied patiently, “How have you been?”

“Well, surely you know that, right?” Rincewind chuckled nervously,” Um, nice seeing you again?”

“As do I.” Said the Lady, “It was a nice little speech you did back there.”

Rincewind followed the Lady as he took off his hat and clutched at the rim, “Do you uh…think Fate would take that well?”

“I’m sure he will, eventually.” Said the Lady as she stopped and turned around to the wizard. She placed a hand on his shoulder, “If not, I’ll make sure he does.”

Was Rincewind imagining things? Or did the Lady just dusted away something lingering on his shoulder?

“Though…” The Lady’s voice lowered, “For much that you complain, you have accomplished so much. Done more than good. And without my meddling, your death may happen sooner or later.”

“That’s…fine by me.” Rincewind weakly replied, “As long as it’s not caused by some narrative plot, I rather leave it up to fate-uh…chance? Um…”

The Lady smiled, “Not for any god to decide.”

“Yes, that.” Rincewind nodded and adjusted his hat above his head once more, “Thank you.”

The Lady retreated her gentle hand and took a few steps away, her voice resonating the halls, “It is not for me to say this, but your existence made those around you to achieve great things. Some even bask into this so-called boredom you cherish so much.”

“And that’s great!” said Rincewind, “Boredom is great! It is a luxury. But much like life, well…it has to be earned . And for much that I would hate to admit it, humans need a bit of luck and a bit of the bad ones. How else would you know you have it good, then? But it has to be made by random moments in life. Not just put me in extreme danger one Tuesday, and give me like, one minute of happiness!”

The Lady chuckled, “You were always an odd one, child. But maybe you’re up to something.”

Her back turned away from the wizard, “I’ll leave you to the hands of Death, then.”

“What? Oh-”

Rincewind noticed a familiar chill behind him and turned.

HELLO.

“I don’t suppose I’m able to see my hourglass now?”

…WOULD YOU?

“No, actually.” Rincewind admitted, “I mean, would you show me if I asked?”

Death stood in silence. He lifted his hand up and opened the same portal that took them to Dunmanifestin earlier. It took a few seconds for Rincewind to register his companion’s skull features.

“Why are you grinning?” Rincewind immediately questioned him.

I CAN’T HELP IT. IT’S STUCK WITH ME.

“Noo you can’t give THAT excuse!” The wizard scolded, “I can see it clearly! You’re probably having a laugh right now!”

The portal expanded without a sound as its deep purple glow bathed their bodies in light. They observed the vast hall of the gods for a final glance.

And then…

The halls of Dunmanifestin welcomed its question-free silence once more.

…

Rincewind jumped to the other side. The coolness of the night and the liveliness of the grass greeted him. He longingly stared at the great walls that surrounded the Agatean Empire. It was a peaceful night.

Death joined in, I HOPE THIS EXPERIENCE HAS ANSWERED ANY QUESTIONS YOU HAD. 

“Oh, I think it made more.” Rincewind replied, “But, thank you.”

He could hear from where he stood, a few party shouts on the other side of the walls. Both demons and humans enjoying the night with drunken happiness. And lots and lots of alcohol. 

Rincewind was hesitant to ask something, but considering all that he’s been through, this wasn’t a dangerous question, “Just tell me, is death painful?”

I BELIEVE IT IS LIKE A LONG SLEEP. Death replied, LONG AGO, I WANTED TO PUT YOU OUT OF YOUR MISERY MYSELF, BUT SOMEHOW YOU WANTED TO HOLD ONTO THAT HARSH LIFE OF YOURS. WHICH IS WHY I HAVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD.

“And what about now?” The wizard asked genuinely. 

I BELIEVE MY GRAND-DAUGHTER HAD SAID IT BEST. SHE IS THE SAME AS YOU, RINCEWIND. ONE THAT WANTED THINGS TO BE NORMAL. ONLY, TO GET ROPED INTO MY LINE OF WORK AND OTHER TROUBLES ALONG THE WAY.

Another one stuck in Narrative… Rincewind thought to himself.

HERE. Death leaned in closer and brought a collection of sands on his palm. The dust danced away and formed a female figure hovering on his fingertips. Her voice trembled and emitted a cold sensation, just like her grandfather.

“Because it’s life!” The figure of Susan spoke from an old memory, “Some sleep is good, of course. You work hard enough just to reward yourself with a day’s sleep. But you have to remember to wake up and do it all over again. So you can crave that relaxing feeling of sleep once more.”

The sand swirled around them as it settled back into Death’s collection of hourglasses in his slash.

“So in other words, Death will greet you warmly by the hand, if only you lived your life to the fullest.”

Death grew intrigued by the wizard. He stood in silence as he waited for Rincewind to work the gears of his curious mind.

“This is why humans shaped you to be like this,” Said Rincewind, “Death is scary, but once you give it form…once you believe there is someone out there welcoming you…then, things might be alright. And would give meaning to the life you built from your own footsteps.” 

Death didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to nod nor deny the wizard’s thoughts. Cause belief is what powers him, and to prove him wrong would be to deny his very own existence. 

IT DOES MAKE THE JOB HARDER WHEN WITCHES AND WIZARDS ARE ABLE TO SEE ME, THOUGH. Death added to the conversation.

Rincewind laughed, “You know, there are times in my life where I actually thought maybe I’m really not a wizard. That everything that defines me might just be one big lie I made up for myself.”

“But…” The wizard smiled, the moon curling down to sleep behind the wizard’s back, “Ironically, seeing you gives me peace in knowing I AM a wizard afterall. For how much my socks curl up against me.”

SO WE’RE- Death lowered his head for a moment and continued, AN ACQUAINTANCE OF SORT.

“Uh…sure,” Rincewind made a bold choice and quickly added, “Or a friend.”

Death was struck in silence, one eye gleaming in pure azure delight, SO I CAN VISIT YOU OFTEN?

“As long as you start out with the words, I am not here for you , then, y-yes?”

I WILL PERSONALLY TELL YOU OF YOUR DEATH WHEN IT HAPPENS. 

Death tapped his scythe on the ground as his voice made an extra echoey effect. The clouds gathered around him as the winds swirled the blades of grass.

AS A WIZARD OF MAGICAL BACKGROUND, THAT IS WHO YOU ARE, IT IS MY DUTY TO SHOW UP AND PERSONALLY CLAIM YOUR SOUL FOR YOUR ETERNAL SLUMBER AND WELCOME YOU TO THE AFTER LIFE.

A bit of a giggle escaped the wizard. He was always the odd kid in class after all. And frankly, seeing a very well respected figure like DEATH claiming him to be a wizard, meant all the world to him.

“Thank you.” Replied Rincewind as he held out his hand.

Death shook it in response and tilted his head,

YOUR HAND IS ALMOST AS BONY AS MINE.

“Well-”

DO TRY TO EAT PROPERLY NOW. Death still held the hand, A HEALTHY DIET IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR A BRIGHTER LIFE.

Rincewind could clearly see it now.

Death was smiling! And…chuckling? Death was-

And just like that, the chillness was gone. And the breeze of change danced around Rincewind until he was standing by his own company.

That is, until the sun greeted him for a bright new day in the chapter of the wizard’s life.

Chapter Text

Rincewind’s hand shook as the other tried to hold onto the sleeves of his wizard robe. And with decisive care, he did another little brush on the canvas. He wiped his forehead with fulfillment as his ego just received an applause for his little effort.

“So…” Rincewind turned to Two-Flower, “What was it that young Lotus Blossom called it again?”

“Art therapy.” Two-Flower said helpfully.

Rincewind took a moment for the word to register in his tongue, “ Art Tea-rah-pee …huh, you know, I think it’s working.”

They were outside in the palace gardens on a sweet Monday morning. A group of people sat in a circle with their own easels as Lotus Blossom looked over each and every drawing and provided words of comfort and suggestive aid.

Rincewind looked over his brush and observed the delicate carving of vines crafted on the wooden tool. Two-Flower said it was made from the discarded branches of pearwood. Rincewind was just glad it didn’t try to bite his finger off. 

“You know, I think I learned something,” Said Rincewind as he playfully swished his brush like a little wand in the air, “Funny really, you would think saving the world more than once would get me to learn something new, but I never did.”

“And now?” Asked Two-Flower as he watched Rincewind apply another stroke of color.

“Happiness.” Rincewind replied, “I saw all those other Rincewinds who were claimed by Death in the end. And they were all miserable. I was miserable. But look at this painting.”

He did look. The painting was a bit poorly drawn, but that was expected for a beginner. Yet, there was a sense of style that made it so unique. The picture was overtaken with yellows and oranges, and across the canvas swam little star turtles onto the great beyond of the cosmos.

“This was supposed to be the most horrible moment of my life,” Rincewind explained, “But it’s just a matter of perspective, isn’t it? I saw this . And got to wake up tomorrow.”

Two-Flower marveled at the picture. It was the day that Rincewind and his friends stopped the end of the world, all by reading the right words for the ultimate spell to work. He had lost his iconograph that time, but even if he got a picture for it, it would never come close to rival that of Rincewind’ own. It was like he put a spell on it. Gave it importance, because it was something made by his own hands.

“I won’t have been able to help Coin for one thing-” Rincewind turned, “Such a bright kid, Two-Flower, I think you might quite like him. His imagination is as wild as young Lotus Blossom there.”

“Well, maybe we can bring him over for an art session one day.” Two-Flower smiled. 

Rincewind turned back to his painting and added another layer of paint, “Eric is an odd one-but I guess all teenagers are like that. If he didn’t accidentally summon me back as a demon, why-some other creature could have tricked him out of his soul! Demonology isn’t my field, but there’s bound to be someone in the University for it. Everyone must have a teacher...”

“Back as a demon…?” Two-Flower raised an eyebrow.

Rincewind laughed at his expression, “I’ll have to tell you some other time. It’s a really long story.”

Two-Flower leaned in closer in his chair, “You can tell me, Rincewind. We have the time in the world here.”

Rincewind cautiously looked up at the clouds, expecting for the anvil to fall. What he got was a great blue sky instead.

“I guess we do, don’t we?” He gently whispered and went back to his work.

More memories of that time with the Octavo resurfaced. But it was not about the ending of the world that bothered Rincewind. It was the things he regretted not doing.

The brush was put aside as Rincewind sighed, “I should have tried.”

Two-Flower tilted his head in confusion.

“When you said you were leaving,” Rincewind clarified, “I could have said something more-I…could have tried to convince you to stay, even if it seemed impossible, I should have tried but-”

“Well…” Two-Flower puts his hand on the wizard’s shoulder as it relaxes to the touch, “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“No…”The wizard chuckled, “No it doesn’t.”

A cloud wandered alone across the sun, its shadow casting over both of them.

“What are you going to do now, Rincewind?” Two-Flower asked, “Are you leaving tomorrow?”

“I could.” Rincewind replied, the cloud already dispersed from the light. His sequins of his wizard robe twinkled against daylight, “I could probably run right now. I could get transported to god knows where. I could stay a day, a week, a month, a year, who knows.”

The wizard spelled words that felt new in his heart, “I’ll just do whatever feels right for me, I guess.” 

Two-Flower nodded, “That is fine, Rincewind.”

“It is?” He asked.

“Yes.”

The little Luggages crashed against Rincewind’s easel, causing its fall to make a domino effect onto the other poor canvases within its area of chaos. Everyone laughed as they pointed at the little luggages dancing around as the other parent luggages entered the scene, trying to outrank them in destruction.

Everything felt alive. Both chaos and laughter brighted the scene.

No one was aware that Death stood behind the brick walls, his shadow looming over life. He wasn’t here on business this time. 

So the Reaper Man watched.

Watched life continue on.

Happiness defined not by the gods nor narrative, but by their own choices. Because it is in one’s eyes that one can change the narrative of their lives.

The Story Goes On…

A blond child has emerged from a rift made of dreams. There stood a child, his eyes wandering up to the Tower of Art. He took a moment for his foot to touch the not soft, not hard grass below him. Gravity was something he had to get used to now, it seemed.

The gates at the entrance of the Unseen University stood tall above the boy’s head. And with just one little cough, their doors opened for him. Invitingly. 

In the great big hall, old and new wizards ran endlessly from every corner of the building. The traffic of pointy hats buzzed around, never to crash against the boy who stood in the center of it all.

“Ook!”

The boy laughed as he tilted his head up at the large archways of the University and saw a massive hand waving him back. The orange furry creature leaped around and jumped from one arch to another. The big great ape came down to the floor like the professional trapeze artist that he is.

“Ook!” Said the librarian, as he went to mess with the boy’s hair and quickly leaped away.

The boy saw the orangutan bite into the last remains of his bananas and tossed it in the air. It was unfortunate for a group of young students to have made contact with the discarded fruit. Because now, a line of wizards has created a synchronized dance of swinging arms and falling over the floor.

“Ah, a new student!” Said a loud tall figure as he crouched to meet the boy’s eyes, very unaware of the unconscious wizards around him,“What is your name, child?”

The boy cleared his throat and stood firm, “Coin, sir.”

“Coin…” The man lifted himself up and thought about the name. The boy studied the wizard carefully. The last time he was here, he was sure wizards weren’t that big and muscular. They surely didn’t customize their hats to have a crossbow and tiny little drawers around it. The boy was intrigued. Things really have changed…

“Such a unique name, that is.” Said the figure, who introduced himself to be Archancellor Ridcully, “Tell me, what classes are you taking?”

“Oh, only one, sir.” Coin replied politely, “I think I know there is to be about everything.”

“ Ooh…everything , you say?” Ridcully stroked his beard and laughed, “But you just got here!”

Coin smirked at the Archancellor and raised only his left pinky finger in the air. And just like that, everyone was floating three inches off the ground. It was just a little display of magic, Coin convinced himself, but one enough to get his message across.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Coin bowed graciously at the floating wizards, “I do not like to be detained from my studies.”

The boy made his own way forwards as color followed him back. He stopped to stare at the little plate on the door and smiled at it. He turned the knob just carefully and quietly entered the room labeled, Cruel and Unusual Geography Class.

His eyes immediately went to the professor, who was mostly focusing on writing on the wide chalkboard across the room. He was a jittery man with a rich crimson robe too magical for him. Along his ginger curly hair, there was one little silver strand, shining brightly by the candlelights. He could easily dye or pluck the little pestering thing, but it seemed that the silver was more like a symbol to the man. 

A symbol that time has finally moved forwards for him.

With a nervous hand, the professor had created a large map of the Disc inside a crude rendition of A’Tuin, the Star Turtle. 

Coin studied the room carefully and realized there weren’t that many students. Most of them were asleep and another one was…yes, that’s a mop with a face drawn on a paper plate.

The clickings of the chalk stopped, and the professor turned his attention to the newcomer. The nervous man’s shoulders loosened at the sight of the boy, and a bright large smile spread across his face. The wizard could barely keep his mouth hidden with his other hand. He cleared his throat in response and focused back on the lecture.

He marked four X’s on the board and a large circle around a very far away island on the map. He then crossed it all as he wisely told the class, “Never go there.”

The students nodded in unison.

The bold ones took notes.

The Story Goes On…

The churning continued, the ants marched with an entertaining rhythm, and the fishes swam in delight. Papers around the machine danced in the air as the music continued its eternal symphony.

“Good Gods, man!” Shouted Ridcully at Ponder Stibbons, “What is happening to Hex?”

“It’s really fascinating!” Stibbons’s eyes wandered through the papers on the floor, “A true discovery!”

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense, my boy!” 

Stibbons turned his attention to the Archancellor and produced one of the hundreds of papers, 

“It’s a letter!” He exclaimed, “Hex is writing letters to someone!”

Ridcully grabbed the paper and turned it multiple times, “Oh, it’s a letter alright, but there’s no address!”

“Well,” Ponder Stibbons simply replied, “A letter without an address has never stopped the Post Office before.”

The Story Goes On…

It was a Hogswatch eve at Death’s Domain.

And Binky has gotten a stack of his favorite hay. 

He neighed in response as the hooded figure petted the horse back. Satisfied, the visitor made her way up to the doorway of Death’s home and turned the knob.

“Hello, Grandpa.” Said Susan and placed her cloak on the coat hanger.

YOU CAME TO VISIT ME. Death responded.

“Of course I did.” said Susan and inspected the room carefully, “How’s…everything?”

Death closed the door behind his granddaughter and began to ponder, CURIOUS. EVERYTHING IS CURIOUS.

“How was your friend’s visit?” She asked curiously, “did I miss him again?”

HE STOPPED BY. Death grinned and poured some hot cocoa onto a little Hogswatch-themed cup. It had a cheerful snowman on it.

“Really? HE?” Said Susan as she accepted the cup of cocoa, “How did he manage to come here on his own?”

STRANGE FELLOW, YES.” Death poured his own cup and sat on his couch. He extended his arm to Susan, inviting her to sit next to him.

RINCEWIND ALWAYS ENDS UP SURPRISING ME.

Susan chuckled and joined in. She took a sip of her cup and observed the pretty Hogswatch decorations. How her grandfather has changed surprised Susan. Before, she saw Death, a figure cursed with misery’s job. A figure that can remember everything. Every job that the Reaper Man has sown in countless days, forever in his mind. 

Never being able to appreciate the sense of the unexpected.

The blessed feelings of a surprise.

And now…

WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COOKIES? Death asked. Susan looked up and saw her grandpa now wearing little reindeer antlers on top of his hood.

“Sure, Grandpa.” She smiled.

I MADE MINT CHOCOLATE CHIPS. Death said very proudly, YOUR FAVORITE.

Susan’s eyes went to the tree displayed by the window. It wasn’t decorated right. Apart from the perfected picturesque decorations around the room, the tree itself held a sense of trying to look right. The theme was black and white, of course. But there stood a red little glass hat adorned in the heart of the tree. 

And below were the gifts.

One was small as a button, wrapped by tiny little hands.

The other was carefully wrapped in greens, with a golden bow to finish it off. You could tell by the shape that it was a mug.

And there stood a red present as well.

It was average wrapped and trying to look presentable. Average size. Average yellow bow. And the name tag was even spelled wrong. Susan could use her powers to see through it, but a glimmer in her grandpa’s face told her he was restraining himself from doing just that.

So she refrained from doing it as well and settled with a simple,

“Happy Hogswatch, Grandpa.”

And Death’s Domain began to snow.

The Story Goes On.

A gray mist covered a little corner of the world, where a lone beach welcomed the soothing sounds of waves. The water splashed against the energetic movement of three younglings. 

Away from the world, the Emperor of the great Agatean Empire has decided to take a vacation.

He sat against the shade of his parasol and enjoyed the gentle seabreeze welcoming him in. The same thing couldn’t be said exactly with his companion. The wizard known as Rincewind, has been applying too much sunscreen on his arm, unaware that the sun has been blocked from frying his pale wizard skin. 

He never remembered showing this much skin before, and Rincewind refrained from taking off his hat. The fishes and possibly the sharks of the sea need a little reminder that he is a wizard after all. 

Besides, he remembered the look of distraught in Two-Flower’s face when he took his wizard hat off.

Never again, he thought.

Off in the distance, Coin was levitating a swarm of conches and making them dance in a circle-like display. Pretty Butterfly and Lotus Blossom clapped at the performance and shouted for more magic tricks.

“Up up up, Coin!” Rincewind yelled from his spot, “Careful there, someone might see you!”

Coin giggled and the conches fell around them like rain. He let one conch dance on his fingertips and went up to join the adults in the shade.

 “Too much, Professor Rincewind?” He asked deviously.

Coin always liked to emphasize the Professor part of the wizard’s title. Rincewind’s expression of the word was too fun to watch.

“J-Just tune it down a little bit,” Rincewind warned, “We don’t want any wandering heroes to recruit you into some dangerous quest around here, do we?”

The conch quickly fell from his fingers, “Oh, of course! I didn’t think about that!”

“Well, that’s why I’m the professor!” Rincewind smiled with pride, “It is my job to enlighten my students with ideas they haven’t put into account!”

Coin let out a sly smile, “Of course, Professor Rincewind, you are absolutely right.”

He quickly turned to leave, but Rincewind’s hand extended to catch the boy’s shoulder. He glanced at his Luggage for a moment and gave it the good ol’ stare of you-better-behave-for-this-part-or-no-more-feeding-for-you-mister-madam-luggage-thing-you.

The luggage decided to cooperate and opened up.

“And as Professor…” Rincewind continued his speech to Coin as he dug into the contents of the luggage, “It’s important to reward their students when they know better.”

Rincewind closed the luggage and hid his arms behind him. Coin tried to look past him, but quickly stood in attention and waited.

Rincewind smiled and held out the latest Gooseberry Mark 6, complete with imps that could play up a total of thirty different songs to bop your head with. 

The look on Coin’s little smile was something the wizard will cherish forever.

Coin quickly ran and began to show off his new gift to the girls.

A little tune whispered behind Rincewind’s ears, “You spoil him~”

“Spoil him?!” Rincewind turned to Two-Flower in shock, “How can I spoil a boy that can conjure up a whole candy store with his own fingertips?!”

“But these gifts come from you,” Two-Flower explained, “He’ll cherish those more than any magic in the world!”

“I guess…” Rincewind replied.

Two-Flower leaned a bit closer, his hand almost brushing Rincewind’s own. The wizard’s hand didn’t back away at the contact.

“He really needs to stop calling you that, by the way.” Said Two-Flower.

“What?” Rincewind genuinely asked, “Professor?”

Two-Flower shook his head, “No, the other part.”

“Oh.” Rincewind quickly understood and scratched his head, “I mean, it’s not like-his birth wasn’t officially documented so, I can’t really claim him as my wa- I mean, I’m single anyways! Even if I find a place to make it official, there’s the whole- you know. ”

Rincewind gestured from himself from head to toe as Two-Flower followed his hand. 

“Well…” Two-Flower let the silence draw out, waiting for the wizard to hopefully piece the pieces together in his head.

“You’re an emperor.” Rincewind realized, “You can make it happen.”

“I mean-” Two-Flower felt offended, but still gave his wizard friend another shot, “Yeah, but also… ”

“Also… what?” His forehead began to sweat and his cheek began to show a little pink color due to the close proximity that his friend took. His wizard mind now forcefully put the pieces together like his life depended on it. Now he dreaded the answer that his friend was clearly suggesting.

It is in that time in which Two-Flower has made himself bold. Bold as the man who faced the corrupted leader of his kingdom. Bold as the man who rode on a giant dragon. And bold enough to have even jumped into the edge of the world itself.

Two-Flower leaned closer. 

Hand reaching in his pocket.

And then,

The luggage crashed between them, causing sand to spill everywhere.Rincewind’s mouth caught a large amount of it, and was now running to catch his luggage from drinking the whole ocean. 

Two-Flower watched in glee as he saw his magical partner chasing down the luggage. Both Pretty Butterfly and Lotus Blossom were laughing at him. Coin remained where he is, in no point in helping in the slightest. 

Two-Flower hummed as he lifted a little box from his pocket. 

He opened it up.

A blue topaz gem sat on a decorative ring.

He gently held it up at the sky, as the sun decided to appear just to shine on the object itself.

Two-Flower quickly woke up from his daydream as he heard Rincewind, already deep in water, yelling.

“You get back here!” Rincewind shouted at the box, “I do not want to open you one day, and have my room filled with algae, do you understand?”

The luggage understood alright, it just decided not to follow it.

And The Story…

Tip. Tap.

Goes…

Tip…Tap…

On.

 Ding!