Chapter Text
“Goodbye, 4C.” The man above him held a weapon long buried, sworn off and hidden for a whole year. Its imposing spikes still had remnants of dried blood, a reminder of the horrible night when he had first found the slime that now sat below him. He clutched his cloak as if it were a lifeline, a way to say that perhaps somehow he still deserved it after everything.
His grip was desperate and tight, pulling the fabric over his other clothes and hiding what he could of his body. He glanced nervously at the figure above him, holding a shocked expression and slightly agape mouth as the brandished Morningstar was lifted over the angry man’s shoulder.
His former brother held onto a scowl, disgusted as he glared at the rogue below him.
Then, he jumped down toward his new victim, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The slime froze, unable to dodge as the mace made contact with his head. It scraped the side of it, and pain enveloped what little bit of it he had left after the attack. A dizziness overtook him, and a huge chunk of slime fell into the sand below. He realized with a stark clarity that it came from him.
Nominal stood above him, wearing the worst expression 4C had ever seen on him. It was the same one he had looked at those 15 knights with before he turned on them. But now, it was the one with which he looked at the slime he had saved one year ago.
He knew at that moment that if he didn’t run, he’d be joining all of the people Nom had killed before.
So he took the coward’s route out, scrambling backwards and wading quickly through the water, glancing at the seething man behind him before hitting the shore and running as fast as he possibly could up the mountain. Notably, Nom didn’t make an effort to chase after him, only looking at the scared figure from his spot on the beach. 4C’s vision was slightly blurred, and he couldn’t make out what face he was making. It didn’t matter anyway, what mattered was getting away. A dizziness overtook him for a minute, forcing him to stop and rest against a tree before his vision cleared, and he continued. It didn’t change the fact that his right eye had been enveloped in a fog, though.
4C didn’t stop running, and he took a lesser known path into the kingdom so as to not run into any of the Blue Kingdom members. The tunnels were a useful tool in all of it, and he was lucky that he had spent so much time making so many entrances. He got into said tunnels as soon as he got to one of the access points.
The journey was short, and over soon enough as he took turns that would be confusing to most people, but familiar to him. What was supposed to be his home surrounded him as he opened the trapdoor and climbed into the small cozy room. The adrenaline didn’t stop, and he grabbed a few belongings from the shelves around, including a chainmail chestplate that he hadn’t used in forever. He stared longingly at the flowers above his bed, wondering whether or not he should take them. Only the allium seemed important enough to keep with him.
The other three were left to rot like the friendships he had naïvely made over the past few months. Katie was the only one he could really trust. The allium signified his return from not only Hell, but also multiple weeks of pure torture. She had really been his savior back then. He was forever in her debt.
Where could he go? If he left, he couldn’t take Allie or Barry, so who would take care of them? Who would look after the home he had spent so long building up the courage to create?
The answer was clear. He gave a pat to each of their heads, whispering a soft, emotional goodbye to the two very confused pets, then left through the very same trapdoor hatch.
He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know where he could go. The maze-like tunnels stretched before him and he ran through, stopping at a corner to catch his breath.
He needed to run.
If Nom were to get back before him — which he doubts, but it could happen — he would certainly tell Scott to jail him. Then what would he do? The spirits were commanded by the monarch, and knew where he was at all times. They would capture him, and drag him into a cell and he would truly have nothing left.
Too many people had apparently been talking about the tunnels, so Scott knew about them for sure. He wasn’t even safe in what was supposed to be his own escape network. Nobody else was supposed to know. But now they did.
He was so screwed.
“…don’t let them hear this,” 4C froze as Owain’s voice somehow carried itself to him from up above. He ceased all movement and leaned against a wall so as to not alert them of his presence. He kept his composure as his heart rate caught up to the physical exertion of running that whole distance. He had covered a lot of ground, but not nearly enough. If he was hearing Owain, then he was almost certainly still in the Blue Kingdom.
“True,” Scott’s voice responded.
“So, let’s not take it over to the Red Kingdom.”
He continued to listen for any other indication of life, or information that he could get. Unfortunately, there was nothing. Nobody else spoke up, and nobody else responded. They must have moved on.
The long run continued, stone walls passing in a blur as the ice helped him move even faster. It was slower than what he had liked, but his body was starting to hurt too much to continue-
No.
He had to keep going.
His head spun with questions- or maybe that was the injury taking hold of him. What had they been talking about? Don’t let the Red Kingdom hear what? Did it have to do with him? Surely they wouldn’t already know…
Something was wrong, he just didn’t know what. Or maybe he did, because he could be living through exactly what was wrong right now.
The slime felt himself pause at a dead end tunnel.
How did things change so fast? At the beginning of the day, there was no indication of anything being wrong. Everything was fine. Everything was happy, in fact. Everything had been going so well.
He should have known. Nom knows about what he did. He knows about all the secrets he had hid for far too long, and now he was upset.
The silence was deafening. He should be spending time with the Blue Kingdom right now. He should be laughing as he tried and failed to steal from them. He should be hoping and praying with them that they received the support from the parcel elf.
Instead he was stuck underground in a drab tunnel system that he had only told two people about.
Was it Mae, or Katie? His mind kept circling back to that fact.
If the entirety of the Blue Kingdom knew about them, then the signs would point to Mae. But why would she betray him like that? Something he had entrusted her with, that he told her not to tell anyone about. Why would she do something like that?
Katie was incapable of lying, he knew this. She would only vaguely avoid the subject and try not to nervously laugh as a result of it being brought up. But also, why would she tell the other kingdom? Surely then only the Red Kingdom would know, not Blue.
The whole situation made no sense. Who could he even trust anymore?
Nom was out of the picture, 4C sure saw to that.
Mae and Katie were equally as likely culprits.
Was there anyone else that he could trust before this thing?
Probably not. He was quite a nuisance.
He needed a place to think that wasn’t just a glorified underground box. He turned the corner and opened another trapdoor, one that led him into a familiar atmosphere and the tell-tale scent of booze.
The Rue Bar was where he felt most comfortable, not to mention that it was beautiful. The wood that was lovingly put up around him each held some sort of delirious joke formed in the process of making the thing.
He could almost hear Shan saying ‘Oh poo-eth’ everytime something went wrong.
The upstairs bit offered more privacy, away from any prying eyes. He nimbly climbed onto the thin beam, balancing across it easily as if it were a tightrope, and he was its circus performer. He then jumped into the loft area, slinking away from the open window and sliding himself down into a corner to curl into a ball.
He needed to organize his thoughts. So much happened, where could he even start?
Nom said that everyone in the kingdom was upset with 4C, that fact was clear. Everyone. Every single person was mad about his tunnels and his prank… it was just a joke.
But he pulled him aside to talk about it. Gods, he was so stupid. Why would he even bring it up in the first place? Why did he have to bring up the lie? Why did he tell him? He should have just asked what it was about. He tried so hard to keep it a secret… but now this is all his fault.
This is all his fault.
The reason he was even in this situation in the first place was because of his God awful decisions. He was so stupid. He caused all this hurt. He had caused so much.
He truly wasn’t worthy of his cloak.
“I’m not worthy of anything,” he voiced the concern to no one in particular. His voice was hoarse and choppy. Perhaps the blow to his head had also affected his vocal cords. He hugged his knees closer, trying not to cry as the fact settled into his damaged head.
A bit of slime dripped onto the floor, leaving a small trace of him behind, but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he would stay in the Rue Bar for too long.
He stood up, taking down the hood and revealing an old pair of goggles given to him by his mother years ago. They were dusty and barely usable, he didn’t even know why he kept them all this time, hidden under the fabric of his trust. Trust that he wasn’t ever worthy of.
He held back a sob as he shrugged the rest of the garment off his shoulders, leaving it at his feet with whatever he had left after what he did.
Nothing was safe anymore. He needed to get out of the Bar before anybody started looking for him, because his current spot wouldn’t be too hard to find.
He jumped down, catching his landing so he wouldn’t bounce, and jumped back into the trapdoor that he left open. He would use the tunnels to get into the arena, and use that to escape into the vast woods behind it. Then he could get to the fark-hall to buy food. He would need some, where he was heading.
Where was he heading? He supposed he didn’t really know, it could be anywhere at this point. Anywhere but Bannerfall, that is.
He just needed to think through everything. It all had happened so fast, and his heart was beating a million miles a minute. His head hurt really bad, and he didn’t have anything to try and help it. Could he even trust anyone? Or did they only seek to see him ruined?
Well, their wish had certainly come true, because he was absolutely ruined. He didn’t really have anyone left. Nom was the only reason he still stayed in the Blue Kingdom in the first place. If he didn’t have the knight he considered a brother, then who was he? Who was he to the world, or even to himself?
He opened up into the arena and ran through it, checking every opening that led back into the world to make sure no one was watching. It would be the worst case scenario to be caught at a moment like this.
He ran through the main entrance and out to the back, glancing at the top of the arena briefly. He supposed he would never fight in there again. He waved a silent goodbye and continued his way to the giant frog face in the distance.
He stuck to the shadows, glancing back occasionally to ensure there were no followers.
He would never be coming back.
That fact sunk in deeper than the rest. He wouldn’t ever do any of the things he considered normal again. He wouldn’t pickpocket Owain, or prank the Red Kingdom, or bully Katie ever again. It was all his fault.
He did some pranks, he did so much, but… it was only to spread Christmas cheer, he hadn’t meant it negatively. The tunnels were his attempt at making a support system. It wasn’t supposed to be taken like this, nothing was supposed to go this way.
But now he was all alone because of his stupid decisions.
4C appeared at the edge of the fark-hall, laughing to himself as he thought about the silliness of the situation.
“Out of all the places,” he thought out loud, “I never thought I’d end up here.”
The visit was quick, he was in and out before anyone could see him, winning a singular farkle game and then trading it for food. He also may or may not have begged the frog to not let anyone know he had visited there, but that was beside the point.
Where was his home now? He stared out at the ever expanding forest, wondering which direction to go. He didn’t really have a home anymore. The Blue Kingdom had been his home for a year. An entire year had been spent building a life upon unsteady foundations, and they had been kicked from under him by his own cowardly feet.
There was technically one place where he could go, and at least be a little safe. Of course, he had only shown two people about that too. He probably couldn’t stay for long.
He climbed a tree to look for it, seeing the actual size of the woods. Each spruce tree had a story, one that would never be told, but they seemed fine with it.
Gods, he was so scared. What was he going to do, after all that had happened here, he was expected to leave it behind? The Rogue God was completely right. There was no point in going back to the kingdom. He was so blind to everything that had happened, and he didn’t see it coming. He should have listened and stayed in Hell. He was exactly as bad as everyone said he was.
He was not a good person, and the Rogue God took his soul for it. Even the creaking king had ripped away a piece of his heart. He always thought he had his spirit, but now his best friend had taken that too.
Where could he go? What could he do? For once in his entire life, he didn’t know what to do, and had nobody else to guide him forward.
4C couldn’t fix things with Nom. That would be impossible, at this point. He had broken the bond that they had, and now he’d never listen to whatever he had to say, if there even was an explanation.
Everything was going to change, whether he liked it or not. It already had changed, in fact. The whole situation was exactly why he didn’t want Nom to know, the knight had only proven him right. But he was also wrong, in a way. On so many levels, he was wrong.
The cabin he was searching for appeared to his right, and he immediately searched through barrels and chests, wanting anything he could get his hands on. He had left whatever he had back at the beach, wanting to talk with Nom without any weapons or anything. He thought he wouldn’t need them.
Once again, he was wrong.
He didn’t have a single thing to his name. Everything he thought he had was lost.
The interior of the cabin was cold, the fire was put out long ago and never re-lit. Whoever used to live there died in the war, and it was left abandoned. 4C half expected to see a spider web above the doorway when he entered, but fortunately, there was no such thing.
He had thought he had a home. For once in his sad, miserable life, he had thought that there was a place for him. He spent months building it up. Months of his life wasted for nothing.
He left the cabin with the door wide open. His legs moved without him, but he knew where they were taking him. Out of habit, they were traveling to a kingdom he had helped create.
Could he even go back there?
The mountains revealed themselves above the treetops, breathtaking as usual. This would be his last chance to say goodbye, because there was no place left for him. His mind once again circled back to what Nom had said. If it was true, then everyone would know about the tunnels, and it would have to have been Mae. Why would Katie ever tell the Blue Kingdom something like that, if she was really against them?
He wanted so badly to go there and ask Mae about it, to say something, anything, but who could he even trust anymore?
Then again, he had also betrayed people’s trust. He had told Mae that he would never leave. Multiple times, in fact. He told Nom that he would do right by him, and look where he was now.
Now two people that he trusted with his life will never trust him again.
It was by no fault other than his own. He built the tunnels, he let the secret out. It was all his fault. He was a coward, and should be dead.
He should have died in the swamp that day.
The Blue Kingdom revealed itself before him, it stood tall against the mountains, trying and failing to rival their height, but still magnificent nonetheless. Everything was still. No movement of tiny people or the shouts of an angry citizen. It seemed almost lifeless.
He left to scout the castle, thinking that perhaps that was where people were in preparation of the new monarch election.
The bridge Mae had spent multiple delirious nights building met his feet as he walked the promenade and enjoyed the view.
“This is my home,” he whispered under his breath, glancing at the palace that cast everything else in its massive shadow. He said it as if he were trying to convince himself of something that was no longer true.
It used to be his home, anyway. He couldn’t come back anymore.
He drank in every detail hungrily, remembering each and every building, each and every person, before he finally felt ready to leave.
“Goodbye,” he said, trying not to cry as he stepped away from the view. He didn’t care if anyone heard him this time. If they did, so be it, they could come after him. He said his piece, and now he needed to leave.
He glanced back one last time, taking a deep breath before finally doing what he meant to do all along. It wasn’t safe for him back there. If he stepped too close, he would die.
If what Nom had said was right, and he had to defend him like that, then everything that was said to him, the praise, the happiness, the joy, all of it was a lie.
Nobody was really proud of him.
Shan wasn’t really his best friend, no, of course she wasn’t. That was Owain, never him. He wasn’t anyone’s best friend. He meant nothing to nobody.
As if on cue, a pigeon flew downward toward him in a dive, seeming to come from behind him. It landed on his shoulder and dropped a rolled up piece of paper. It seemed to have been done in a hurry, not created with the usual care that most people put into their letters. He unrolled it and read the contents, choking up at the words.
I’m not sure if you’ll ever receive this message, but please come home 4C… we miss you.
I miss my best friend.
The sender forgot to sign it, but the slime could recognize the handwriting anywhere. It was the same person who he had been passing notes with all day. She apparently wished for him to come back. Perhaps she didn’t know yet.
His finger hovered under the last few words on the paper, scribbled in a mess of emotion but still legible. ‘Best friend’.
A single tear fell onto the page, staining and spreading some of the ink. He wanted to write a response, but he had left his pen… somewhere else, and didn’t want anyone to know anything.
He rolled up the paper again, giving it to the bird and whispering “Shandrea” into its ears, watching it fly off as he swallowed a lump that had lodged itself into his throat.
The only person he could truly trust was himself, and even that trust was rocky. He closed the door of the cabin, locking himself inside and lighting the fire again. The warmth was nice. Anything to forget about the pain.
He head throbbed from the hit, but he was sure that with a bit of rest it would be fine tomorrow. Then he could leave.
He supposed he could go back to the swamps. Maybe it was time he went home again, visited what was left of his family. He wasn’t welcome in Bannerfall anymore, let alone anywhere else. He’ll take a moment to rest, and then he’ll head back home.
He lost too many things today, and he needed to forget about it.
Maybe he doesn’t always bounce back.
A scroll appeared magically in front of him, announcing the Blue Kingdom monarch selection. The name remained blank as the spirits deliberated with each other.
Perhaps Graecie finally took the chance, then maybe he could actually go back.
Then a name began to engrave itself on the paper, one that 4C was all too familiar with.
Nominal Gravy is the new monarch of the Blue Kingdom.
4C tore up the paper. He didn’t need it anyway. He didn’t want to look at it and be reminded that he was missing what was supposed to be his best friend’s reign. Now, because of that reign, he would never go back.
He never wanted to become King, and yet, there he was.
He built up his life here for nothing. Why did he even care in the first place? It wasn’t like he was losing a real brother. He had done that before, and it wasn’t nice.
But it sure felt like it.
It felt like that same pain and grief all over again, like he had lost the world within one breath, and there was nothing left to live for.
There was nothing left for him here.
That was his last thought as he went to sleep that night, tired, confused, and hurting all over again.