Chapter 65: Book One Epilogue

There were four minutes within his day in which the Evil Emperor could think.

 

He never slept. He wasn’t sure why; he never had. The closest he ever came was sitting in the throne room, waiting for the hero to arrive.

 

He wasn’t sure what would happen then. He was supposed to try and kill him; he knew that. But afterwards? Afterwards there was only silence.

 

That had never bothered him before. Before, he had just figured that he would continue ruling the kingdom as he saw fit, and the world would be covered in darkness and he would reign supreme blah blah blah.

 

He couldn’t even remember why he wanted that.

 

He couldn’t remember why he did a lot of things.

 

He remembered her. He remembered killing her. He’d killed so many people before and since, but she was special because she’d been a way to hurt his arch rival. A tool, a lever to pull, and then pain would pour out like a water pump. But it had been… wrong. The killing of her had been well planned, flawlessly executed, but something had been… off. For the few seconds he had dedicated to thinking about it he had just assumed that it was a result of dealing with his prophecy-foretold foe, some kind of fated-related butterflies. 

 

And he’d thought nothing of her, at the time.

 

And then he’d seen her, from the rampants of his castle.

 

And everything had changed.

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Everything had stopped, as they looked at each other across the divide. His plans, his world, his domination... it all stopped and he was—

 

—He was free.

 

But then she had turned away, the routine had clamped back down, and he was lost again.

 

But, the next day, at the same time as he was delivering his speech, there was a break. A moment in time in which he could stand and look out over the town he ruled, and actually think about things.

 

He saw the whirlpool in Lake Fear disappear, and knew he would have to act soon. Not even in these four minutes of freedom could he contemplate changing his actions. As soon as this speech was done, he would return to his throne room, and give his troops the order to gather. He could not more prevent himself from doing this then he could halt the progress of the suns.

 

And besides, there was an additional incentive. Perhaps she would be there.

 

Underneath the dread mask, the Evil Emperor smiled. Though they could not see it, the troops below trembled in fear.

 

Watching the fading whirlpool, he raised an imaginary glass and toasted the Hero and his Companion.

 

“To freedom,” he said, and laughed.

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