V-37 Bread (II)

It is pure folly to strike a bargain with the fairest. They are not merely beings who possess nigh infinite time, but also creatures that are bereft of consequence. They cannot be slain normally, merely banished, and even when they are cut up, down, or rend asunder, they return to the fair wilds and will remember what you have done. 

And then, some time, perhaps a few days later, or maybe a hundred years, they will return to you and they will exact their retribution. But this is the simplest outcome; sometimes you do not know what retribution they are exacting upon you. 

You do not know what rules you have infringed, and that's just it—rules. You do not understand the fae. You are not born a concept, not like they are. People describe them as characters from a story. I disagree. To call them characters underestimates their capabilities. 

They are not characters. They are aware of their limitations. They are aware of their own stories. They have to repeat certain actions, have limitations they are bound to, but never assume they are limited by them. They understand where their vulnerabilities lie, and if you think you might be able to trick them, then it is you who walks deeper into a den of your own unmaking.

The Fairwoods might be a place that offers wealth and glory beyond measure, but know that you do not belong. And that every denizen of the eternal realm you interact with might mark your inevitable damnation…

Fairest the Eternal: The Fairwalker’s Guide to Interacting, Hunting, and Avoiding Fairies

V-37 Bread (II)

"Are you sure about this, Shiv?" Adam said as he gave the Chrono Shadow Soup a sideways look.

Shiv grinned. "The soup or the plan? Because depending on which one you're asking about, well…"

"Start with the soup," Adam said. "You sure this thing is safe to drink?"

"Didn't kill me."

"Lots of things don't kill you, Shiv. Built like a small fortress at your weakest. And doesn't poison get you drunk instead of sick?"

"Well, usually they get me sick first, then I metabolize that, and afterward it feels really, really good. But trust me, the soup doesn't get you sick. Can't say it tastes good, just unique. But it will let you hide inside my shadows. Time will flow slowly while you're inside my shadows. And frankly, that's the best place for you to be. It’ll keep the bread away from you.”

The gate lord gave a half-hearted shrug and pushed past his unease. He lifted the last morsel to his lips and slowly gulped the Chrono Shadow Soup down. After a moment, Adam's shadow quivered. It became like Shiv’s earlier when he was creeping across campus.

The Deathless smirked. "I think I'm gonna start a recipe list for the Last Morsel."

Adam blinked as if he felt a rush of adrenaline tearing through his system, and a second later, he looked behind himself and splashed down into his own shadow. For a few moments, Adam remained there, but the darkness quivered. It was like a pool. The sight was uncanny from a second-hand perspective, and Shiv realized it was wise of him to do his exploring at night earlier. The shadowy puddle rippled and splashed, and when Adam emerged, a few dollops of darkness slid free from his body, settling back where the darkness extended from behind him.

"You're right," Adam gasped. He swallowed hard, as if he was trying to shake some terrible taste. "I'm not sure if I like it at all, but it worked. System... that's strange."

"Yeah, well, we can't all have a reliable set of magical armor. Some of us have to make do with frying pans." Shiv held up the Last Morsel, and Adam regarded it with a smirk.

"I don't know. I think it suits you quite well. All right, one last time before we go in. Plan A, Plan B, contingency. Go. One more time.”

"Plan A is we resolve this peacefully," Shiv said. "I go in. I talk to that anointed toast bread knight thing. Whatever the fuck we’re dealing with. I manage to figure out what he wants in trade for leaving everyone in the restaurant alone and pissing off back to the Fairwoods. We strike a proper bargain. We give the fairies the things they want. And then everything ends with everyone happy."

"And in the very likely chance that something incredibly stupid happens, or something unforeseen forces us into an active battle?" Adam asked.

"Then we move on to plan B. Also known as feeding the bread a taste of their own shit." Shiv looked over his shoulder and whistled. From within his cape, a Vitae Golem emerged. It possessed his Inertial Overdrive, Vitality Drain, Shapeless Tides, and another special skill. One harvested from Andra. 

The Jotun's ice magic was infectious, and a layer of blackened frost crusted the exterior of the vitae golem. Her skill was comparable to what the bread could do, and though Shiv didn't know if it would affect the Faebread the same way, the Vitae Golem discharging its inertial sheath should still make some openings in the ensuing counter-attack.

"If things go wrong, the ice golem here crashes into the Faebread to see about delivering a bit of karma. If that fails, it will discharge its overdrive. If that also fails, we'll just have it act as a decoy. Its shapeless tide should force the Faebread to burn some of their resources to overcome it. And in the meantime, you'll use your Spellstring to fire a bunch of dimensional pathways. This will line the walls and other spaces around us, keeping the damage contained."

"And you're sure necromancy doesn't work on the fae?" Adam asked.

"I'm absolutely positive," Shiv replied. "At least that's what Cullywier claimed earlier. All that stuff went into him when Andra cast her spell, and it did jack shit."

Adam huffed uncomfortably. "Alright, then I'll be creating some darkness using the spell string. I'll be connecting the other sides of the dimensional pathways to someplace underground. In the meantime, you try to overpower the Anointed Knight and shove him back within the cold iron cage. I'll fire a shot, giving you a straight path to the cage once things go hot. Remember, though, it's wreathed in bread. Expect to deal with some bread tumors if you have to do that." Adam hesitated. "Does it hurt when you go Non-Sequitur? After you're affected by the fey magic, I mean."

"Yeah, it's like someone literally ripping pieces of your insides," Shiv replied. “Pretty nasty shit.”

Adam sighed. "Why did I expect anything better?"

"It's not that bad," Shiv said. "It's brief, and after it's done, I basically don't feel anything anymore. It's like getting flayed, but the pain doesn't last."

"Well, now that you put it that way… it still sounds horrible," Adam deadpanned.

"Don't worry, Princess Arrow. You're not the one who's going to have to rip himself apart. That's my job."

"Don't sound so happy about it," Adam replied. "Alright, and the contingency. The thing we both don't want to do."

"Right. Call Cripple and dump this shit on the Ascendants." Shiv looked down on the ground and scoffed. He shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah, let's not start owing favors to not-grandma because we couldn't handle a few pieces of bread."

"Well, these few pieces of bread wiped out an entire kitchen and will likely kill a few dozen masters today if we don't successfully intervene. I'm just keeping our options open, Shiv. And considering how these things tend to go for us."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," the Deathless sighed. He ran his thumb along the blades of the last morsel. "But let's leave all that Ascendant-invoking after everything really goes to shit. Before that, well... I guess I'm going to find out if I can cook one of the fair folk. Wonder how they actually taste."

Adam blinked and cocked his head. "You know what? I do too. But diplomacy first, Shiv. Repeat after me. Diplomacy first."

"Yeah, I got it." Shiv said, holding up his hands. "Frankly, I'm the better diplomat between the two of us."

Adam did a double take. "No, you're the one with a Psychology Skill that you gained from abusing Sullain mentally. After you successfully abused him, you use that Psychology Skill to analyze more people so that you can find the words to hurt their feelings the most. We don't call that diplomacy, Shiv. We call that Master-Tier Bullying. You’re a Master-Tier Dick.”

“If only they sold pants that size,” Shiv chuckled to himself.

“People don’t make pants for amoeba,” Adam whispered sweetly.

Shiv saluted him with a single finger. "Well, fun as shit talking each other is, I think it’s time to see if we can bully some bread into submission. You want to hitch a ride in my shadow or hang behind?"

"Some distance between the two of us would be wise," Adam said with a faint hint of apprehension. "I know how you fight, Shiv. Especially how you fight right now. Every time you punch someone, I get a bit of a passive concussion myself. Not to mention what you do to my ears."

"All right, all right. I was just trying to be nice." The Deathless licked his lips. "You know, at times like these that I miss Uva. Out of the three of us, she's the one who handles weird shit with a straight face."

Adam nodded along. "I wonder what she would do if she ran into something like this. Probably make an extremely dry comment and then try to steal the mind of one of the breads. Which would then cause her to get Psychomantic bread tumors."

"You know what? When you put it that way, I'm glad she's not here." Shiv grunted, "Glad she's outside. I just hope she's all right. Her, and everyone else still alive on Blackedge."

"You know something, Shiv? I have a feeling they're all okay, at least right now. Mainly because the system is probably scheming some way to bring them back to us with half an army of eldritch nightmares chasing them. Causing an even larger crisis to spiral while we're already facing something insurmountable on our end."

Once more, a crushing silence entered the room. And both of them let out pained groans.

"Fuck, Adam, fuck, just fuck! What'd you have to say that?" Shiv snarled.

"It, it just came to my mind!" Adam cried, "I just—"

"I know," Shiv said. "You didn't need to say it out loud. Now it's definitely gonna turn out this way. Godsdamn it. Broken Felling Moon, let's go get our ass kicked by bread.”

And so the twosome set off in the direction of the wine cellar. Adam splashed down in the darkness. Shiv staggered forward, his perfect semblance shed. A feeling of fatal acceptance bloomed inside the Deathless. A feeling that no matter how bad things got on this today, there would always be more problems tomorrow. And the system was absolutely, definitely, undoubtedly going to throw an avalanche of crises in their direction the moment the Slipgate came online.

We've got to deal with as many things as we can, Shiv thought to himself. As many things as we can, we've got to nip them right dead in the bud.

Along the way, Shiv marched past the bodies of the fallen chefs. Velly was a mangled puddle. Parts of his head still remained. The upper half of his jaw lay a few meters to his right. Both of his spatulas had been taken, however. Shiv didn't see by what. But the fey must have stolen it the moment they overwhelmed the head chef. Bowden was even worse. Only his beard remained on the ground. His beard and nothing else. The rest of his body was less than red paste. It was spread out wide, resembling jam. And Nornsong was—

A small head erupted from Bowden’s beard. Shiv flinched back as he noticed one of the necromantic mice peering up at him. "What the hell?" Shiv breathed.

Suddenly, Adam's head poked out from the darkness as well. He had a Veilpiercer drawn, shadows swirled around his dimensional arrow, and then he noticed the Necromantic mouse as well. "What the hell?" He echoed.

A beat of silence followed, and then the mouse shrieked, "Who the hell are you two?"

It had Bowdoin's voice, for one, and as it spoke, ripples of corrosive mana began building around it. Shiv dashed backward. His inertial sheath thundered at his speed, and he embedded himself partially in the wall. "Don't use any Necromancy on me," he shouted. "Do fucking not! You do, and the capital might stop existing.”

Adam almost loosed his Veilpiercer at the mouse, but then it held its little hands up. The building corrosive manna around it dissipated into faint motes, and it gave a piercing cry. "Okay, okay, don't shoot! Don't shoot! I surrender, I surrender. You can take me in. I am a Necrotech Nightstalker of the Necrotech Legions. I demand to be placed into your custody, sentenced, and after a proper trial returned to my faith."

Both Shiv and Adam looked at each other. "You're a Necrotech?" Shiv said aloud, surprised.

"Yeah? You two are Inquisit—wait…" The mouse said. Then it sniffled in the air and looked between them. "Wait, no… that notification. You're no guard. You're the Deathless? That's you? And who the hell is he?"

"I'm Gate Lord Adam Arrow of Blackedge," Adam introduced himself. "Do you mind explaining to me how a Necrotech ended up here, in this kitchen, within the heart of the Republic? And also, why a mouse?"

The necromantic mouse looked around. "It's kind of a long story. Listen, we need to get out of here before those bread things come back. Velly was an idiot trying to turn them into food. You should never mess with a fae. Never ends well. Not once. I kept trying to talk him out of this, but it didn't work. Ended up losing my other vessel too. Damn."

"Your other vessel," Shiv said. "Wait, Bowden, he had a brother. Was that the other part of your soul?”

Deductive Reasoning 12 > 13

"Well, you're pretty clever," the mouse said. "Yeah, that's my other Dichotomous Self. Well, it's going to be a nightmare to replace. Growing them is going to cost me a pretty bit of mithril. Listen, if neither of you two are part of the Prismatic Guard, can I ask a favor and have both of you pretend that you didn't see me?"

Shiv and Adam shared a look. "I think we can do you something better than that," Adam said. "I think we can get you someplace safe right now. If you're willing to trust us, that is. We're going to see if we can resolve this Faebread matter."

The mouse looked between the two of them. “You guys are nuts!”

"Listen, we have a safe place within the city," Adam began. "There, you will find others like you.”

“Nightstalkers,” the mouse asked. 

“No. Prisoners, renegades, orcs. People that are hiding out from the Ascendants and the guard.”

"Alright, that sounds kind like—wait, did you say orcs?" The mouse said. “How—orcs? Seriously?”

"Yes," Adam replied, sounding apprehensive. "Why? Do you have an issue with orcs?"

"Is there an orc there who calls himself Mortar?" The mouse asked after a moment’s hesitation.

"Yeah," Shiv answered honestly. “Why.”

"Oh, holy shit, I was having a feeling there. Alright, yeah, I'll go with you. I gotta go with you now. At least until I go see the Grower again. I need a new body.”

Shiv blinked. "What, you wanna go see Mortar?"

"Yeah, he owes me a lotta mith. Also, I'm gonna kick his ass. He's supposedly my nemesis or something, but I haven't been attacked in years. What kind of nemesis does that? Alright, bow-boy, show me this safe house."

Adam hesitated for a brief moment, and then he fired a shot over the mouse. A second later, a dimensional pathway emerged, and on the other side, a chamber revealed itself. Tessellated rocks jutted out from the ceiling. They gleamed with crystalline textures, and there was a furnace at the center of the room. Loud clanging followed, and the shape of Concelhaunt beating an anvil revealed itself. He appeared to be trying to fix some kind of complicated component. With every strike, sparks lit the air, and the forms of Mortar, Whisper, and Tequila alongside Can Hu were also revealed.

"Mortar!" The mouse cried. It shot across the pathway at an alarming speed. Everyone turned to stare at the bullet-fast mouse. Shiv and Adam waved behind, preventing any unnecessary violence from breaking out. "You son of a bitch! Clench those ass cheeks tight, because I'm going to crawl up inside of you and ruin your guts with my necromancy!"

Both Shiv and Adam were utterly speechless. Mortar went stiff at the sight. "Uh, Bowden? Is that you?"

Shiv did another double take. "Wait, his actual name is Bowden? He used his actual name as his cover name?"

The necromantic mouse went sailing through the air, shrieking wildly. It latched onto Mortar's face, and he promptly tumbled over the anvil with a cry. He fell on Consul Hunt, and a brawl promptly ensued.

"You want to intervene?" Adam said.

Shiv stared across the pathway, and he decided that he wanted to handle the bread instead. "Yeah, you know, if we lose an orc, we lose an orc. But, uh, looks like they’re having fun, so…" Shiv sighed, "Let's get this fae thing done before we get ambushed by some other bullshit." He took a step forward, and a wet squelch followed. "Ah crap! I stepped in what's left of Nornsong's elf guts.”

As Shiv entered the wine cellar, he found it choked with dust, even now. The very back of the room had a massive tunnel drilled into it. Shiv could see the rear of what looked to be a drill-shaped automaton. Unfortunately, its body was completely engulfed by spreading patches of bread. They jutted free from every crenelation, from every gap within the bot's machinery. Muffled mechanical crackle sounded from the automaton's vox speakers, and the Deathless could faintly hear a "Help me!" slither through the air.

The Deathless flooded the wine chamber with his creeping void in an instant. To his left and right, the vintage wines shattered. Bread hidden within came bursting out, leaping to ambush the Deathless. But before they could fall upon him, they were dissolved by the shadows. Reduced to crumbs and then nothing at all.

The Creeping Void 126 > 128

The Creeping Void continued spilling forth from Shiv's body. But he stood still for a second, startled by the sudden attack. Adam surfaced behind him. "Where the hell did they come from?" Adam cried aloud. "I didn't even notice them at all! Not until the last minute. My Awareness just jumped 8 levels!"

The deathless let out a weary breath. "Adam, I think you should stay submerged until I get attacked and give it five seconds after that, too. We don't know what other weird tricks these bastards have up their asses, but I don't think we're nearly at the end of their deck."

As the Deathless got to the automaton, it came apart, coming down into various modules and screws. Even the drill its torso was made from burst apart in a dozen pieces. It seemed that most of its insides had been hollowed out by the bread, and that the "Help Me" was coming from further down the tunnel. 

The automaton had made a small gap into the kitchen proper, but that gap was wrapped in a layer of festering mold and yeast. The stench in the air was beginning to get foul, and Shiv held his breath. As he slithered across, his shadows made the bread recede. It flinched away from him as if he was a fire, and bits of yeast dissolved before his Creeping Void. From ahead, he heard a low grumble of snarling hatred.

"You come then, Undying One, please feel unwelcome in this abode. You are to be our witness in this moment of proper balance and retribution."

"Yeah, about that," Shiv said, "Can we just talk for a bit? Because I think that maybe we can settle this properly without any more bloodshed."

"Why do you think the path remains open to you? Why do you think we have not sealed the way into the kitchen?"

"Well, if that's the case, then why'd you leave a bunch of other breads inside the wine bottles to jump me?"

"Because we hunger." And the low voice let out a rasping gasp. "Because we need to balance what has been eaten, what has been swallowed. What is taken must be returned. Flesh and blood for bread."

Shiv blinked. "Flesh and blood for- You want- You want to eat me? You want to eat the chefs?"

"It is the only proper way. It is the just way. Princess Plum Blossom must be sated. And the flavor of revenge is a true delight.”

A series of thoughts snaked through Shiv's mind. You know what? Maybe, maybe we can come to a deal. He picked up his pace and stopped himself from looking over his shoulder. He knew Adam was following him close behind, and so long as his friend remained submerged in shadow; he would be protected from harm.

The interior of the kitchen was as Adam's Seer of Horizons revealed. What used to be a place where cooking and culinary arts were practiced was now a temple—one made from unnatural bread.

As Shiv arrived before the kitchen's entrance, he briefly stumbled to a halt as he saw two bodies wrapped in a cocoon of yeast. Both stared at him with misery. One was an elf. She had a large nose and violet-colored eyes. Only a small patch of her face remained visible, and she opened and closed her mouth. "They are waiting for you. They are waiting. So much… It’s inside me… I can feel it… Filling up my heart.”

A waterfall of drool spilled out from the corner of her lip.

“Please save us." Her counterpart finished for her. The other chef was an automaton, and its voice was like fallen metal. Even so, that did nothing to hide its absolute dread, its absolute misery.

"Well, I never imagined a day when bread would be trying to give me nightmares," Shiv muttered under his breath. "Hang on, you two, I'm going to try to—”

“Leave them,” The Anointed Bread called aloud. Its voice was heavier now, louder, and Shiv's shapeless tides rattled as the crumbs in the air crashed against him. Briefly he felt its fae magic seep into him, but it pulled itself back. "Their fates are sealed. But you… you might still prove to be of amusement. Make haste, Deathless. You do not know what it takes for me to restrain my hand.”

Shiv's grip on the Last Morsel tightened. "Yeah? Well, I think I do. I got half a mind to tell you to go fuck yourself and cut these two free regardless." He stared at the trapped chefs, and a low, rumbling laugh echoed from all around. The dust in the air shivered. 

"I see. How interesting. You are a moralist, are you? A patternist that tries to serve the greater good of his fellow apes."

"I just don't like bastards," Shiv replied.

"Then there should be little quarrel between us," the Anointed declared, "for they were the ones that trespassed first."

"And did they know that?" Shiv asked. "Did they really know that you were going to wake up and take the gruesome revenge, or were they just ignorant?"

"Ignorance is no excuse. The Court of Summer will not be denied. Step forward. You have been granted an audience with one Anointed. Do not keep me waiting.”

Shiv slowly walked by the two trapped chefs. He briefly stopped beside them. 'See if I can get you guys out of this. Just hang in there for a few seconds longer.' A low groan came from the automaton, and Shiv moved forward. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen proper, he could feel something gliding along the roof of his mouth slipping between the crevices of his eyes, down the channels of his ears.

A series of red-colored objects glistened with pale resonance, and Shiv, the chef, unwavering skill detected the various cooking stations, now subsumed by the fae magic. Monster Mystery Meat's kitchen was colossal, but with all the mold and bread spreading across every inch of this place, much of the space had been lost. 

Once, it must have felt like a chasm or a cavern here. Now, it was a narrow tunnel repurposed into a parody of a throne room. The midsection of the chamber was a massive ridge of unnatural bread. It was crusty and bright brown. Radiating ripples of unnatural orange mana. 

To Shiv's left and right were legions of gingerbread knights standing at the ready atop yeast-consumed countertops. They held their blades high, and they regarded him. Beneath them, their baguettes reared their heads back. Their mouths were open, and within were glinting blades of gleaming metal.

Shiv could taste the hate in the air, could feel the festering rage. Susurrations of snarled thought snaked against his mind, but his Shapeless Tides stopped their Psychomancy from affecting him. Even so, he could feel his own ire rising, and there was a pulling sensation. Something was plucking at his emotions.

Psycho-Cartography:The fae are empathically attacking us. Of that I am sure.

A series of muffled cries followed. Shiv looked upward. He saw several dozen other chefs fused in the bread there, but these victims weren't even allowed to breathe. They were entirely nested in place. It reminded Shiv of bugs caked beneath a spider's web, woven so deep that they could only wait for their inevitable fate to befall them.

A dozen baguettes stood atop what Shiv guessed to be the grilling station. They aimed bread-stick arrows at him using bows molded from pretzels. They held their weapons low, but at any moment they would unleash their magic upon him, and he would be swallowed, just like this room.

And then at the far end loomed a huge figure, he was Shiv's size and a series of groans and whimpers emanated out from his chest. The four-armed gingered knights waited for Shiv, and a pale sun hovered above him. From that gleaming, radiant star came laughter, laughter that coursed through Shiv's marrow. 

It felt like warmth, it felt like joy. It felt like the breaking of dawn. Suddenly the anger Shiv felt faded. He found himself happy, happy to be here, happy to meet his fate, even if it was to be an ugly one. The sun burned just over the anointed knight's head, and his body gleamed like burnished soil. In his right hand, he bore a grand halberd. It seemed shaped from some manner of plant stuff. Shiv reached out to touch it using his Biomancy, but then held himself back as he remembered the danger the Anointed Faebread posed.

"Undying one," the Anointed greeted. Its voice was high and regal, and filled with a refreshing summer heat. "You come to me. You stand in the stead of these undignified Patternists, you say there is a chance for peace. So speak. Speak and make your offering. Speak, and be judged by an Anointed Knight of the Court of Summer."

Shiv looked the anointed bread knight up and down and tried to get anything from his adversary. His Psycho-Cartography came up with nothing.

Psycho-Cartography: I told you I cannot give you a psychological profile of a bread creature. I have no experience with bread. He's pissed off and vengeful, from what you can tell. Maybe you can use that.

"All right, let's get a few things clear: I'm not part of Monster Mystery Meat. I'm just here to make sure you don't kill all the customers."

"Bah!" The Anointed One waved a hand. Its halberd gleamed bright, and a blossom of sunflowers spread along its sides. The edge of its blade stank of fragrant flowers and fertilizer. "They matter little, and they will offer little. Their flesh will be dedicated to Princess Plum Blossom for the absence of my offered brethren."

"Wait," Shiv said. "So you're literally going to feed Princess Plum Blossom meat?"

"Princess Plum Blossom will taste anything from life and to give life." The Anointed One’s bread-made helm cracked in places, and chunks of toast burst free. "Princess Plum Blossom must be fed. The harvesting season depends on…"

"All right, I'm gonna have to interrupt again," Shiv said. "I might be able to supply you with all the meat you want. In exchange, though, you're going to need to let everyone else go."

The Anointed One went still. "And how will you do this? How will you give us this meat? For the transgressions demand enough flesh to feed a hoard of dragons, enough flesh to shape a new mountain—”

“If you got the vitality, I’ll provide that meat for you.”

Shiv observed the Anointed One a few seconds longer. Just then it struck him that none of the Faebread had any vitality. Instead, there was this strange membrane around them, a quivering substance that was almost grayish in hue. If Shiv had to describe it, it was like diluted mercury, and most importantly, there was no warmth. There wasn't even a coldness. It was just like they were an absence.

“I come back from being dead,” Shiv said. “I wouldn’t cook myself for people but…”

This is known to me," the Anointed One said. "Your Path is shrouded by a strange skill, but even masked and obscured, I can see it continue on without end… I do not know how you have done this. You are clearly not one of those self-mutilaters."

"What?" Shiv said. "Self-what?"

"The ones you call Necromancers. Necromancers, the ones that have undergone the ritual to spread their souls wide, delaying the inevitable. You endure. You burn. Your flame exists because it decides to continue existing. It is a self-sustaining thing. You are an enduring thing. Yet, that matters little."

"I'd say it matters a whole godsdamn lot. If it's meat you need, then I'll just die over and over again. Eventually, Princess Plum Blossom will eat her fill and the debt will be settled, right?"

The Anointed One didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked upon Shiv with an increasing hint of scorn. The Deathless got the feeling that he just threw the bread knight’s plans for a loop with this offer of easy meat. "And you think this is enough? You think that I will just let you cheat us?"

"Cheat you?" Shiv said, annoyed. "I'm literally offering you my deaths to feed your princess. You claimed any flesh was fine a moment ago, and here I am. Ready. Willing. Shit, I’ll even cook myself for you.”

"You are tainted! There is nothing we can take from you. Do you understand? You wrong thing! You impossible thing! I will not have a creature of unnatural stock debasing the Summer COurt. You will not serve as nourishment or fertilizer. We deserve more than a tumor.”

Shiv blinked. "You're calling me a tumor? I'm sorry. What does your bread do to people?"

"Anointed One," the gingerbread knights called out as a collective. "He may yet be a new flavor. He may yet offer the princess..."

"Silence!" the Anointed One shouted. "I am the anointed knight, I have been touched by Princess Plum Blossom's hand. I am to be her prime dessert, and all will heed my words in this matter, mine, and mine alone."

Psycho-Cartography: Wait. I do have something. This vengeance and cruelty is personal for the Anointed. The others are thinking more about the princess. He’s here partially for himself…

Psycho-Cartography 94 > 96

Shiv snorted as he looked the Anointed One up and down. "You're pretty full of yourself, aren't you, Toasty? Well, I offered you my corpses, but you didn't take it. You tell me what you need, though, and I'll see about getting it to you. And on top of that, do you have an actual way back to the Fairwilds?"

The Anointed Knight didn't say anything.

"I guessed not. I think it's not going to be easy for you to get back home, either. But I might just have a way to offer that to you as well.”

Rather than bending, the Anointed Knight slammed the butt of his halberd down on the ground. "You overstep, Undying One. You think me weak! You think me feeble! You think I cannot lead my charges home? I allowed you in because you proved to be a curiosity and then an eccentricity. Now you mock me. Tempt my anger."

"I'm not tempting shit," Shiv spat, "but you seem to be spoiling for a fight. Now, I'm gonna tell you this much: I don't know much about you. I don't understand how you work and all that, but I can pour a bunch of darkness into the room and destroy your pawns. After that, well, I might not be able to kill you reliably, but I will do terrible things to you."

"There is nothing you can inflict that I—"

"If I beat you, I'm putting you in a cage. But I'm not going to eat you. No, I'm just going to hide you somewhere until cycle after cycle passes, and you become known as the anointed knight that failed." Shiv laughed at his adversary. "Now, you claim my flesh won't do. Meanwhile, a few of your gingerbread knights say that the princess might find my flesh pretty flavorful. Someone has to be bullshitting here, and considering the fit you're throwing..."

"Enough!" The Anointed One shouted. The room shook, and Shiv felt a psionic wave crash against him. It broke apart against his shapeless tides, but his emotions were in disarray. Sadness, anger, frustration, sorrow, hunger, all of those things cycled through him like there was a whirlwind passing inside his heart.

"I have allowed you to prattle on too long," the Anointed Knight said. "This dialogue is over. I will not—”

Inspiration took hold of Shiv. A thing of pure daring and blind assumption guided him. It was a particularly wild and instinctive gambit, but with that slight hint of discord between the anointed knight and his minions, Shiv decided to do something audacious. "I challenge you to a duel. You guys do that, right? You're supposed to be a knight and all."

The Anointed Knight went still. "You…”

"I challenge you to a duel," Shiv repeated, "for the honor of Princess Plum Blossom, because you seem to be determined to make sure your lady doesn't get to enjoy all the flavors she so desires. And so you’re clearly more in it for yourself than the Summer Court. What would they say if they knew what you were doing here? What kind of knight thinks of himself first before his princess?”

"You dare," the Anointed Knight snarled.

"I do more than dare," Shiv chuckled. "If you bring me to her, I'll even cook for her. How about that? How about I cook for your princess to make up for this whole matter? Because if I do, I might need to make an apology to the Winter Court for throwing everything out of balance the other way.”

"You think you are worthy?" the Anointed Knight snapped. He pointed his halberd in Shiv’s face.

Shiv angled his head and looked past the pointed blade. "Yeah, in fact, I think I want to prove it to you. You got a mouth behind that helmet?"

The Anointed One hesitated. Shiv took that as a yes.

"Well, how about this? Here are the conditions of my duel: I'm going to kill myself once. And then I'm going to figure out what I can cook from my body. You tell me how it tastes. You tell me if she can eat that—if I taste good. I lose? Fine. You can keep throwing your fit, and we move on to violence. But if I can satisfy, if I can make you change your mind, then we be adults here. We talk business. So. Are you picking up my gauntlet, or are your bread balls about to shrivel before Spring even gets here.”

“Ohhh!” the gingerbread knights cried out in sympathy and alarm.

The Anointed One flashed bright and was transmuted into glass. “You… So be it. Show me, Deathless. Show me your paltry cooking. Show me so I might curse you for all eternity—curse your unworthy hand, your wretched soul… CURSE YOU!”

Stretches of yeast and mold receded from the cooking stations as the Anointed One waved a hand. Shiv grinned as his heart began to speed up. Finally… “Oh. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. You just made your last godsdamned mistake, bread man.”

Everything around Shiv came aglitter as The Chef Unwavering roared to full power within the Deathless.

Sticks and Stones 60 > 64