24th Corbet, 1117, Eleday. Orchilla.
Judari placed his hand upon the cold limb, his veins popping out from beneath his violet skin. He raised his cleaver with a shaking hand, ichor dripping from its rusting steel. He gazed upon the arm, a blue-gray color, but siphoned of life and warmth. With a heavy heart set on desire, he lowered his cleaver, setting the arm free from its body. A small single pebble of a tear welled in his eye, he tried to keep it in, but it fell. Cascading down his cheek like a boulder on a mountain. Cutting through grime and dirt that laid set on his cheek.
He looked down with his reddish eyes upon the corpse he was butchering apart. He knew what he had done. Though, only a distant and buried part of him cared. The frail cloth swung open, the Doctor.
"Jubari! My dear muscle-work. I was surprised you took the initiative and brought in a fresh corpse this mornin'. It's usually me stuck on that sorta' dirty work, if you'd like to I can pay ya' for that as well, albeit you search the streets instead of me." The Doctor said, already counting the silver coins in his pocket.
"No." Judari spoke, a well of tears about to tear the dam of his stoicism down.
"Alrights, one time thing then." The Doctor slid Judari some loose coins, letting them roll and falter on the table with a ring.
"I need some new candles, both for my operating table and your butcher room, if you could head to the upper districts to fetch me some that'd be most wondrous, about twenty sticks should do, and you can keep… Some of the remaining silver for ya' self." The Doctor bared his stained teeth, while rubbing his brown coat.
"Though be aware, it's been reported that some loose Abyss Walker has let loose in the upper parts, nothing you couldn't handle right Jubari?" Judari could already feel the creeping ache in his neck, his muscles cramped and burned. Only one thing could extinguish the pain. The Doctor let out a wicked grin deep from his gullet.
"Say, exactly where'd you find this here corpse anyway? It seems to have some good lookin' bracelets. You didn't steal it from some noble's home did'ya?" The Doctor said, worming his fingers under the bracelets.
"I kid, no way a Rigan could be a noble of any kind, better chance it swiped them off some prissy peep in another district." The Doctor grunted out a chuckle, the build-up of snot in his throat and pores making it hard to distinguish from a monster's growl. Judari held his hands tight, an unwelcome smile creeping up on his lip. Judari closed his eyes, inhaling the murky air into his nostrils. Quiet, completely so. No ego, and no super of it. Only the body. Judari had already thought about it, even before yesterday. He'd just been kept from acting on it.
"It even lost its head, looks like it was ripped off. Or perhaps its neck was crushed under some skik's boot. Serves them right-" The Doctor said, and in that moment a hazed memory flashed in Judari's mind. A bed, a girl and him. He had lost control. It wasn't a moment of weakness, quite the opposite. In that moment he had never felt better. Though id had overtaken him. He cried many tears, so many his face was still blistering from how much he'd rubbed them away.
The Doctor couldn't react. His eyes were too focused on what laid before him. Instead of paying attention to the fist approaching his fleshy head. Judari punched, again and again. With each brutal strike, a bone in Judari's hand shifted. The Doctor attempted to punch back, and hinder the titan Vind's fists. But nothing could stop him. The Doctor's head was squishy, becoming red and purple as he was beat over and over. His breath became less and less frequent, Judari felt lighter. Finally, the pink and gray painted red. Judari lifted his fists up high, letting it drip in long strips down his boulder arms, and down on the slate floor. He stole only a single glance of his work, the Doctor's head split straight open. An eyeball hanging off his ear, and several of his teeth lodged deep in the now exposed throat. A small fly buzzed through the room, unbothered by the violence as it landed upon the Doctor's massacred face. It rubbed its hands together, cleaning itself. The kindred above, being caked in filth and sin.
"I am… Sorry…" Judari said, but the creeping smile didn't waver.
"Iris." Judari slid the bracelet off the gray corpse, then fashioning himself with it. The gold didn't quite fit him like it did the corpse. But it brought joy as a present to him.
"The city of stone can corrupt any soul. Tis' be where many bands of scum hang their lowly wishes to fester mold. Though none could ever be granted." The Voice spoke to Judari, and he knew it all too well. The Voice, even if just a voice, had a smell to Judari, one of burnt charcoal.
"This city is incapable of granting anything but misery and blood. First a paradise for Rigan kind, then invaded and turned to yet another settlement for the all-mighty. Much like you, Child. So close to being turned to a settlement of high-minded bores. And you wouldn't like any one person tempering with your fate, no?" The voice spoke, smiling, with a deep loud whisper. Never, ever had it spoken for so long. Judari could feel as if the voice was speaking right at his neck. The voice's breath was cold.
"You are near perfection, Child. Like you have always wanted to be. Rid of longing, rid of guilt and rid of everything that hinders you. For perfection cannot contain flaw nor hesitation, so you shall become flawless." The voice spoke, each word digging itself into Judari more and more.
"Can you make me truly perfect?" Judari said, his voice could barely believe itself. A joyous tear and smile sitting comfortably on his face.
"Only if you are… Does your soul feel light?"
"It does, it has never felt this light. I was scared of that once, of my anchor snapping. Now I see what it for what it truly is. Ascension." Judari looked upward, his eyes reflecting the candle's low burning flame.
"The curse of the Starchild was never a curse. It was a prophecy, to become something greater. I have never felt as ready as right now." A tear escaped his eyes, gliding down and cleaning the blood off of his cheek.
"If so, then you shall set foot toward me. Let your body guide you toward me. Come forth my beautiful Child." Judari could feel the voice smiling as he flung the cloth door away from him. Anything in his way, an obstacle to godhood.
Judari ascended through the city streets. The black smog tried to cover his determined eyes, but failed miserably as he cut through it. He wasn't thinking, only acting. Every beggar and starving child on the street not phasing his flawless mind.
"You may wonder what perfection is, Child." The Voice said, its hand coddling Judari's heart.
"The many gods of Gaia have their own perspectives on the matter. Solan wishes to perfect everything hith touches with a tapestry of hith own face, of order. Amerach wishes to perfect hith craft and cares not for the artist themselves. Elemira, the naive fool, thinks people are perfect already, and only our hearts can be set on the wrong action." The Voice whispers at Judari's shoulder as he marches like a soldier through the filthy streets of the Emerald District.
"But they're all wrong in their own way. All containing logical fallacies in the arguments for perfection. They fail to grasp the larger scene at hand. The path to perfection isn't one of order, artistry or simple thought assessment. No, the path is carved by removal, by destruction." The voice revelled in its rant, each sentence more inspired.
"Like removing a splinter." Judari thought, and imagined the Voice nodding.
"For destruction brings change. Only by breaking a stone, over and over again, can you achieve a new foundation of potential. The same goes for you and the others of your ilk. For flawlessness is perfection. Don't you agree? Starchild." Judari nodded, his mind ascending beyond the stars and his heart sinking deep below to the abyss.
"Only a sane person would." Judari spoke out loud, every radical whisper in his ear producing another level of manic confidence. The murky streets narrowed, and Judari had finally escaped past the lower levels of the underground expanse as he came upon Oresfall yet again. The crowning jewel of Rigan history.
"Like removing a splinter from a finger, flaws are to be removed. Not nurtured or accepted." Judari said, waiting for the Voice's response.
"Oh so bright you are, Child. Truly you have a gifted soul." Judari felt shivers running down his spine at the approval. So lost in ecstasy he failed to notice the upcoming crowds upon crowds of people roaring in the street behind him as he turned a corner into the main street of the city.
"Oh for it is a commoner's favorite day my Child, Orchilla. Celebration of another New Year of misery. Soon the parades of the ruling class will come marching through the streets with their heavy drums. Best hide yourself, dare not make the common folk gaze flaw into you." Judari listened, keeping himself glued to the slate wall. His sunken eyes peered across the streets, surprisingly here, it was dead quiet. Behind him were masses of crowds, but this very street could have a silver coin flipped in it and it'd make a sound everyone would hear.
"Though perhaps one of Ardor's miscreant Rigans would come running to pick it up." The Voice laughed coughs of wheezes, as if the act of breathing was pulverizing its ribs. Judari went forward to the empty street, the open forest sky barely reflecting off of his slate eyes. He walked forward, his feet dragging across the street path.
"Gaze at Elemira's forest, disgusting. If only a torch could burn them down."
Judari felt in that moment, as if wings were attached to his back. Though instead of big bones and muscle, it felt more like two strings had punctured into each side of his back's tapestry. Lifting him high to ecstasy. Though his left eye caught the slightest glimpse of a candle, and red hair. Judari turned his head, the veins in his necks trying to hold him back.
"Is that…?" His eyes shook, as his mind descended down on the ground yet again. In front of him lay a shrine. A few lit burnt to the stalk candles shine an amber orange on a small picture frame, with an illustration of a square-jawed red haired man. On a note in front, it said. 'Askeladd Vanaheim, father, lover and resident of this street turned Skik. Taken from this world too soon. Gone, but not forgotten.' Judari read, and felt his eyes pulsate.
"Why do I still… Feel?" Judari muttered to himself, punching his fist slightly into the stone wall behind the shrine.
"You are on a path to perfection, not already there. This bond, while broken, still lingers in your mind. It clings to you like a cancer. A cancer you must burn."
"Askeladd… He was my commander, if only for a short while. I watched him die in front of me. I let myself be shaped by it." Judari shed a tear, one he couldn't hold back.
"For something to be perfect… Wouldn't it have to be that from the moment of its concept." Judari felt a gentle yet rough hand brush against his cheek. The strings on his back loosening ever so slightly.
"Listen to yourself, your ideals have been twisted from a mere simple image of an old face. Perfection isn't something you attain from luck, it is from immense work. Every little piece of imperfection removed is a step closer." The Voice spoke, no fear hung in its voice, but a sense of unease of the future did. A feeling Judari had never felt from it before.
"So you're saying… For me to break this bond, I have to forget?" Judari asked.
"Forgetting implies that it still resides within your soul, my child. No, you have to break it. Tear the bond apart till you know its face, but feel no emotion while looking at it." The voice said.
"I… I don't know if I can. I… I want to be perfect, I really do. But I don't think I am strong enough to let go of this. I feel like I'm losing sight of what it means to be kind-" Judari said, but the voice hissed, bringing Judari's eyes back into focus.
"My child, the body you possess, and the mind you wield are made of woven black-steel. Look at yourself, you've near already achieved true greatness. But you are simply missing the last step toward it. Let your instinct guide you toward the truth." The voice spoke with an eerie calmness fletted into its whispering words.
"Punch forward with all of your might, unleash the sorrow you've held, and let go." Judari nodded ever so slowly. A final tear dried on his cheek as he clenched his fist till it was pale.
"SPLATTER YOUR ID ON THE WALL." The voice screamed in an almost unnaturally hush tone. Judari with the might of an elder dragon, his fist shattering the wall which the shrine stood leant up against. The wall creaked inward, bending to Judari's anger. Judari pulled back, as a tear fell gliding down his cheek and crystalizing into ice, shattering on the street below.
Judari looked under himself, and saw rubble and crashed against the shrine to Askeladd. Without hesitation he bowed down and cleaned it, a sweat forming on his forehead. He could feel the voice staring daggers through him. Though before he could clean the last of his rubble, a flurry of drums sounded through the streets.
"The festival of Orchilla… Tis is the season for that leviathan of a bird to glide across the world." The voice whispered, as Judari's heart beat, over and over. Blood crust still clung to his fingers and nails, anyone with sense would arrest him. The thought passed loops around his brain as he ran to an alleyway. Dark and secluded, he could hear the drumming and yelling from the street now, and a particularly loud voice.
"O' happy Orchilla, much like me, Gaia has been great for yet another year!" A voice boomed through the streets, echoing all the way to the alleyways.
"O' for I could dream of a challenger to end this day with a splendid climax!" Hearing various bursts of thunder shimmer through the cavern as people cheered. Judari sank into the darkness, enveloping himself deep within the maw of Oresfall's shadow. He wiped his face, over and over. Though to his dismay, hands can't wipe memories.
Judari stood in the alley, catching his breath from the chaos. Every pore on his body felt like it was leaking molten steel, and his hairs more akin to pin needles ripping his flesh apart. His breath calmed, and to horror's dismay, his id was still denying the grave. The festival raved on beyond the confines of the slate walls, he inhaled again, slower this time. The polluted yet cold air flew in through Judari's lungs, and the world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. In his mind's eye, Judari imagined. He imagined his mother, and her long curly gray hair. He imagined his father, and his charcoal smell and smile. He imagined Askeladd, Frey, Ryude, Astrid, Iris and he imagined Rito. His long cyan hair and smile holes. For this one second, Judari stood in his old boots of iron.
Forged metal burrowed through slate, its clang echoing through the alley. Grating curled shrapnel on the ground, igniting powerful sparks to fly through the narrow dustwry street. Heavy boots marched alongside the ringing mass.
"It is time to prove whether you are worthy of this path, Starchild." Judari's blood filled with invasive ink, his veins popping beneath his lilac skin as the boots came to a sudden halt, and a massive hunk of gold crashed to the alleyway's floor.
"I was really quite hoping to find that yammering Goldinveer General first, but a Vind with what seems to be too many lines of Dragons Whisker in his system might be a perfect reminder of chaos and sporadic behavior my system needs." Judari heard a voice behind him. He turned, met by a flare of red hair. Now at his side stood a tall abrasive yet pale Ashiin, clad in dark-steel plating and a heavy wool cloak. With what seemed to be a hundred weapons chiming into each other at his side. Bells and whistles rang all across Oresfall, as the parade carried on its festivities.
"If only Bellum was awake, I suppose she will be soon." The Ashiin drew a darkly shining sword from a sheath at his side. With a single sweep of his leg, the Ashiin launched the bell with unkindred speed. Crashing into Judari's forearms and bending to his muscle. Quickly, his fingers tore through the warped metal. The gold scraped across his nails and fingers, peeling them. Though with sheer beastly power, he commanded the metal, and cloaked his now clenched fists in a golden shine. He delivered a final chop, cleaving through the rest of the barely recognizable bell with a loud warped sound echoing. He leapt out fists first toward the Ashiin.
Judari's right fist flew through the air, aiming for the Ashiin's chest, Though the scarlet eyed sprung his sleek sword out to parry away the primal attack. Judari shifted his left hook upward landing a clean blow on the Ashiin's jaw. As his id celebrated the victory, he felt an eye lay down upon him, as the Ashiin pushed back against the strength of Judari with but his underjaw.
"You smell rotten." The Ashiin spat, ripping his sword through Judari's stomach. He fell back, his eyes going frail in vision. But just as he stumbled with blood rushing out of him, he brought his back straight again. Recovering rapidly, as small black tendrils formed beneath his skin, threading themselves to mend the wound.
"Oh, I see. It isn't a copious amount of drugs in your system… Or I suppose you could call it that as well." The Ashiin pulled his lips thin, smiling. His sharp teeth showing.
"We meet now… Eldin. It seems you've dug your tendrils into another young fool wishing life was easier.." Judari felt his heart strike itself as the Ashiin spoke, and he tried to reply.
"Ah, Roy. Or what asinine name do you go by nowadays?" Judari felt his mouth move and talk, but it wasn't him speaking.
"My name is of no interest to you Wraithlock, but it seems this Vind is something of usage to you. Perhaps I'd be of good trouble to kill this host of your Marego. Hm?" Roy spoke, wielding himself a dagger in his left hand along with the curved sword in his right. He sprung forward against Judari, cleaving his sword horizontally downward. Judari's body dodged away from the blade, though Roy kept swinging. More a dance than a duel, every swing was met with a corresponding step and duck. The tight alleyway had them both caged against the walls, while still using them as springboards away from immediate danger. Judari, while on the defensive, still struck with his gold plated hands when an opportunity arrived. They both searched for a break in their stalemate, a primal puppet equally matched with a waging war masquerading as an individual. Not a fight for blood, but for dominance of belief.
Judari was finally backed into a corner, and like an animal could barely see opportunity outside of lashing out his rage. In that moment Roy finally landed a swing upon Judari, cutting his blade deep with Judari's shoulder. Twisting it, till a massive rift had formed between the muscle tissue of his shoulder. Judari roared a beastly growl, and with haste stamped his boot upon Roy's stomach plating, sending the pale Ashiin away. Judari reached for the blade, and plucked it out of his shoulder. His blood wrapped tightly around the sword, forming a casing that coiled the edge.
Disarmed, Roy produced a longspear tattered with cloth of green and black banners.
"Recognize this? I looted it from a place you called home once." Roy snarked, positioning himself for a lunge.
"Wielding a spear of the Altrius Guards. That is despicable, even for an Abyss Walker like yourself. Though I suppose you never dared to venture into Gaia's true Abyss. Instead of the measly Ardorian imitation your self would call home." Judari armed himself properly with the sword as his mouth spoke for him. His shoulder reconnecting the cut tissue back together.
"I haven't visited that ear-annihilating chamber in years, nor my faith." Roy ran his spear through the slate ground, sparking a quick ember while leaving a faint glow at its tip.
"If only you could've been there that day. The skies were red with blood, as she tore through the castles of the Royals." Judari's mouth moved and spoke a whispered tone.
"Though to hith luck, Gaia hasn't matured much since. This cursed earth is bound to repeat its history once again." Judari's muscles bent, steeling himself.
"Destruction brings change, that's what you Altumic freaks always say, right?" Roy mocked, his foot sunken deep into the ground. The Voice cackled through Judari's lips.
"For that is our epitaph, hith wrote it as such. The wall in which hith wrote it on, has since cracked. Though hith instruments of death shall glow even brighter once the sol above us gleams a darkly shine." A single droplet of water ran down the rusty pipe behind Judari, taking with it grime and gunk collected over months. Finally it landed upon the ground. Judari leaped forward, clashing his sword against the ebony wood of Roy's spear. It seemed to bend for a moment, but no destruction in sight. Within the second, Roy had grabbed a hold of a small bag beside his armor and thrown it at the eye of his spear. He lunged forward, the bag pierced upon the spear, and into Judari's chest. Roy leapt away, as the cloth ripped apart with a red explosion boiling out from it. Judari yelped, as the searing pain spread across his chest. His flesh simmered, and his ragged shirt left ember trails into the air. Unlike before, his wound didn't bend to fantasy. Black smoke wisps raised from the wound.
Judari peered to the slate sky, his eyes gaining a shine upon their stone texture. In this moment, it felt as if a bloodsucking leech had been ripped from his flesh. All his emotions spilled out, like the gashing blood from the star-shaped wound upon his chest. His lungs begged for air and he submitted, filling himself with polluted air. The slight hint of burning oil summoning his attention upward to a small candle-light in a lantern hanging off the side of a building.
Roy readied his spear once again, ready to deal the fatal blow. Though left untethered, Judari rose again. Roy sprang forward, the spear cocked back and ready to pierce Judari's barely beating heart. Judari fell to the side, his heel stomping down upon the ground. Roy's spear crashed directly into the wall, and Judari struck upward aiming above the Ashiin's head.
"Need some better eyes, don't you, Vind?" Roy said, taking his hands off the spear and reaching into his cloak once again.
"I've reached heights you'll never achieve, you virus..." A chain snapped as Judari spoke.
The caged light fell down upon Roy, the oil and wax spreading out across his skin and cloak. Flames engulfed the pale Ashiin in mere seconds, his scarlet eyes burning with vigor as his skin seared and charred. The blaze touched even sides of the alleyway's walls, caking it in long streaks of vampiric smoke.
"Oh Eldin! Let the boy fight! He clearly has more in store for me than your rotten self!" Roy gazed upon Judari, as he tore his heavy cloak upward and dragged the flames off himself. The pale orange skin on his face had been charred, but with the flames extinguished it began to grow back, rapidly. Faster than even Judari's wounds.
"I cannot get much sustenance from your blood, Vind. So all I can possibly do with you is bring the dead-end your mind has been begging for." Roy slid a jagged dagger out from his boot, now having one in each hand.
"My ego has reached entropy, it no longer needs the sustenance of confidence from achieving victory or any of the sort. It saddens me that you do not view the world as mine eyes do." Judari said, gripping the curved blade in his hand tight. Then, letting it loose in his hand, swaying. Roy leaped off the ground, landing his feet upon the wall impaled spear. His weight carried the ebony wood down, then launching him forward.
The Ashiin pierced his daggers in a pincer, ready to plunge them into Judari. Though without skipping a beat, Judari bashed his elbow straight into the aerial threat. The air bolted out of Roy's lungs, though still with an ounce of strength left, he bored straight into Judari's shoulders. The pain burned, yet with bubbling rage he hooked himself backward. The steel ripped through his flesh, tearing rifts between his shoulders down to his chest. The blood seeped out of him, no clotting nor mar to weld him together. Judari slumped back, his legs barely letting him stand.
"Even if you're left Godless now, I'll make sure that the Marego you carry is properly incinerated… So I'll wish my best farewell to you, Vind. Our fight was a pleasure." Roy sheathed his daggers, lighting a quick match upon his teeth and fishing a flask of oil from his pockets. In seconds both were casted all around and across Judari. Roy took heavy steps away from the booming trumpets of the main street, strolling deeper into the darkness of the alleyway. The Vind behind him stood in a massive blaze. A boiling tear rolled down Judari's cheek, for his and its conversation was short and precise. A question.
"Allow my control full permission. I shall rebirth your body, healed and fulfilled, and from then you must strike with caution while my power seeps into your great strength., Are you ready, Starchild?" And an answer, of compliance. There wasn't much choice for him anyway.
Birthed in fire, Judari rose once more, smoke and fire ripping and lingering on his body still. His wounds stayed open as canyons. He inhaled once more, but instead of exhaling like any kindred would, he kept it in. Suddenly, as if water was about to burst a dam. His skin cracked. Small rifts formed around his body, burned black skin flaked off, as he weightlessly leaped forward. The sword which he held not long ago had already fallen upon the ground along with his shed skin. The new skin he bore was smooth, silky, oily and slathered in a black glue. The fire behind him raged, as he extended his arm forward, curling his newborn hand to a knuckle.
Before the Ashiin even had a moment to react, Judari had connected his fist to his back, sending him deep into the fine artery of Oresfall. Judari landed properly, bathing in the glory of the perfection he was as he took slow, heavy steps. Born once again, upon grime and blood.
Fluids flew in Judari's eyes, settling back into proper pupils. Roy bounced quickly back from the floor, his clothes now covered in grime. The smirk from his lips faded, as his eyes came upon Judari's oil glazed body. The Vind's violet eyes pierced fiercer than ever, his teeth seeming to have sharpened. More akin to a beast of the abyss, Judari leaped forward on all fours. As he leaped from surface to surface, his fingers dug deep into hard slate, ripping through the rock like warmed butter. Roy dashed forward, steel clinging and chiming at his side. Roy ran through the street like a coin-starved child who'd just committed his first robbery, skipping from stone to stone like he hadn't been the victim of a monster in many, many years. Judari followed the best his beastly eye and body could.
The Ashiin, while not of mocking perfection like Judari. Was faster, much faster. The scarlet eyes and pale skin. Judari knew he was battling something otherworldly… A vampire. A weakness, an exploit. His mind raced at the methods of melting this smug being into a puddle. The first fire was the first chip that'd lead to the crack in the armor Judari needed. The scene grimed more and more, vine and moss began climbing up and down every pipe, crevice and crack found on these stone apartments. Unlike the most front of the city, a dry smokey desert, this was more akin to a jungle. The moisture filled Judari's lungs, as red carpets were being hung out on racks, and flapped by the sunken eyed citizens. His world became dizzy, spinning a hundred times every time he took a step. The strength from his limbs faded as he came to a halt. The streets seemed to close in on him, the two to three floor apartments rose as grim swirly towers in Judari's vision. The sickness boiled within his stomach and through his body.
"This body… It isn't…" Judari whispered, stopping fully as the vampire bolted away, while tears welled in Judari's eyes. His remaining rags tore slightly apart as he erratically moved.
"It isn't PERFECT YET!" He reached his hands up for the slate heaven, asking not for any forgiveness, but for relief of the sin he imagined his body bore. Almost as a command, his body began to produce black papules across his flesh.
"Something, to remove." It said, almost as if a gift had been presented. Judari began tearing and squeezing all the puss out, great satisfaction and ecstasy coursed through him as he did. Even as he damaged his flesh, he felt he was crafting and molding it into exactly his vision. Finally scarred and left without sickened sin, he sought out to hunt yet again. He'd lost the Ashiin's scent for now, though Judari smirked. He already knew where this scarlet eyed monster was sprinting toward. He plunged his calloused fingers into the slate wall, grabbing rock after another as he scaled the building with pure strength. The air seemed to clear of moisture, and finally he reached the top. He could see across the underground city, all the amber light shining from below, the smoke rising from chimneys and wet moss that held dearly onto stalactites above.
He ran across the roofs, till finally he found the wide gap he'd been searching for. The main street of Oresfall was just down below, with the parade raging on. Till, the Ashiin stepped forward from the alley. The drums and trumpets stopped, as Roy looked around himself. Judari stepped out onto the roof's edge, a piece of confetti landing upon his glossy eye. It stuck to the slime, and he blinked, wrinkling it and pushing it slightly between his eyelids. The parade had stopped, and hundreds of eyes landed upon Roy. A golden knight rose from high upon his throne, and a thunder struck the ears of every lowborn in the city.