Chapter 5.5

The Ambitions of a Madman

Fixx's POV

Verne Valley; truly the greenest country of them all, led by such a compassionate leader. With its “Grand Tree” lofting over the tree line, and its people so oblivious to the world around them.

As he strutted through the sunset valley with his nose tilted high, Fixx didn’t have time to blissfully enjoy the scenery, or chat around with the locals.

No, those peasants were far too terrified of him and none would dare to approach him.

Disgust swirled in the man’s stomach, his frown deepening into a scowl.

They were utterly useless, every last one of them, down to the scum of the Flower Court.

‘It would look better burnt to the ground… no? Why not put your new abilities to good use?’

‘Yeah… it would… a darker look suits it, especially after the hidden atrocities they've caused…’ He mused. 

‘If you possess true courage in your convictions, then perhaps you should add it to your list.’

‘You make an excellent point…’  Fixx answered back in his head.

The aforementioned list he created was looking a bit light. Perhaps a few more heads were in need of detachment.

He already added the Greenery fuck and his siblings to his list, especially after their earlier conversation, but what about Mother Nature?

She was kind enough to allow him back into the country, despite his father’s previous actions. Though not like the rest, the woman was incredibly too benevolent. It dimmed her mind to naivety, focusing solely on his plight, completely ignorant to his true intentions.

Although, if her children were to die, then she could always just make more.

Unlike those All Hallows bastards, with the “higher than thou” superiority complexes of its traitorous kings, looming over his city in his stolen crown, passing it down to his dear Primo.

Ah yes. Geddeon de Los Muertos. The righteous loyal puppy of the crown. He had so much potential. If only the man had joined him when the question was initially asked, maybe things could’ve been different.

But he chose to fall into the lies told by the crown, undeterred by its confusing and contradictory web. It was a shame, really. Perhaps he, too, should be included.

‘No. Leave him be.’

‘What?’ Fixx paused his thoughts and his step, puzzled by the voice echoing through his head. ‘That cesspit of a kingdom is on the list, as are those bastard kings! We might as well make it a family reunion!’

‘There are designs and methods to the madness so austere that you will never understand it, but hear me for true. He will fulfill my will soon enough.’

His murky green eyes squinted in disdain. 

Every one of those fucks deserved death, but in his eyes, even that would be a mercy.

They deserved to suffer, just as he had, and all those years in a hole gave him a new purpose.

A new mission; one even his grandfather would be proud of.

Fixx paused his stroll suddenly. Being so deep into his conversation, he had spaced completely on his surroundings. By the time he blinked away from his thoughts, he realized that he was standing in an isolated clearing, surrounded by trees.

The field in front of him was heavily glazed with grave markers overlaid with moss and various species of vibrant flowers. Even under the darkened night sky, the blooms glittered brightly, lighting up the melancholy sea of rocks.

Such a tragic place, yet there was a forbidden radiance in the scenery that only the most solemn or decrepit can appreciate.

Yes, the dead made for gorgeous ornaments. Whether covered in nature or blood, death was truly a beautiful notion.

The man glanced down by his feet at the nearest moss covered headstone, with traces of thin roots and tiny flowers bordering the glossy stone base. It was overall well-kept for being so far away from Yggdrasil, so someone must be coming by often. Not a single root was out of place, down to the flowers that outlined the engraved name.

Gardenia. A name fitting for such a gentle Nymph who held zero faults, yet her life ended all the same. She trusted Mother Nature with her very being, and she still died.

He then felt a sudden lump in his throat, a feeling so foreign that he merely glared at the name, perturbed.

‘What is this feeling?’ Fixx questioned.

Anguish? Distress? No, those were common to him. He understood them well.

This feeling was far different. There was an indescribable twist in his stomach that squirmed around, nagging at his senses until he figured it out.

It wasn’t hesitation; he knew his plans were complex and still developing, but as long as the events of the future fell into place, they were sound.

In no way was it the impression of fear. The only man he feared was his father, and after surviving the Void within an inch of his life, he vowed to never fear anything ever again.

He tilted his head to the side when he touched his chest, feeling his clockwork heart hasten deep within.

Why would a lowly woman have such an effect on him?

Fixx stared into the name on the stone, searching for any solutions to his sudden discomfort.

This Gardenia woman held no presence nor bearing on his life, so what was this affliction and why was it so deep?

Was it empathy?

Regret?

Or maybe… melancholy.

‘Did you forget the past already, or is this a moment of vulnerability, I sense?’

The distorted voice poked through his thoughts, certainly peering within his mind to further study him.

Like a damned creature on a lab table.

Then, everything snapped back into place. The very answer to all of his questions. Centuries of his father’s turbulent ramblings and fantastical declarations finally held reason and meaning as to why only Fixx remained.

His pledge to his father in his youth.

His new abilities upon leaving the Void.

His list.

His father’s plot to destabilize the Treaty enough to have it deteriorate from the inside.

El Cucuy was a ruthless man and cared not about the consequences of his actions, but the man was a true tactician.

Fixx’s whole life was intended for this, even before his birth. His father tried to mold him in his image, training in various areas from Fire Magicks to illusions.

But in the end, El Cucuy created something more.

He created an anomaly; a malicious plague crafted to cloak New Temperantia in despair and agony.

And now, no one was there to hold him back.

‘Hardly. It was a moment of confirmation. I will be proceeding on to the next step in my plan.’ He battled the voice back, smugly.

Fixx loomed over the headstone, glaring down at the name. He growled deep enough to cough up a mass of saliva, spitting at the engraved G with a wet slap. When he was satisfied with his vandalism, he smirked down with a haunting smile before walking away.

‘I’m the one who was left standing, so I’ll do things my way.’

‘So you say, child. I will bear witness to your endeavors. Do not fail me like the rest.’

‘I can’t really say “yes” or “no” on that, but I can make it… entertaining in the very least.’ He confirmed to himself before the voice went quiet.

The trail back was filled with nothing but silence, vast fields and lone footsteps, crunching along a dirt path.

Fixx had already stored a majority of his Mana away to keep the flow under radar from perceptive eyes. Although, for at least half a mile, he had sensed glares to the back of his head. The Voice went quiet a while ago, so he was attentive to his surroundings.

It didn’t start at his hideout, or that general area, so at least he could keep up the ruse a bit longer. But it did give cause for concern, depending on who or what it was.

No Nymph nor Lepribun would be caught out here this late at night, and while the flower kids had a curfew, they were only allowed to roam late with special permissions.

Mother Nature, however, could move freely across her realm, and she sees all in the Valley.

If she knows his truth, then she must also be dealt with. 

No better way than to find out for himself.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He sang darkly, a smirk lighting his face.

After the final word left his lips, he quickly ducked backwards when a wooden spear swiftly fell from above, implanting itself into the ground in front of him with force. The base of the staff was intricately woven with diversely sized leaves, vines, roots, and elaborate, decorative carvings etched into the hilt.

‘That was surely thrown, but at least I have my answer.’ Fixx mused, leaning in to observe the handiwork. ‘Ah… I know those carvings…’

“My my, Flower Power. Isn’t it a bit late for you to be out and about?” Fixx chortled into nothingness.

Then, two additional sets of footsteps filled the space, causing Fixx to leisurely turn around. He was almost pleasantly surprised, raising his hands and clapping, teasingly. There stood Terran and Geddeon, side by side under the glow of the Prince’s horns, both with sharp glares aimed at the man.

“And you’re accompanied by my dearest Primo? Now, I’m not one to kink shame but exhibitionism? Now that’skinky!” The man questioned nonchalantly.

“Not my type and I’m currently working.” The Alrune retorted, his light green eyes unwavering from the man’s sneer.

‘Oh?’ Fixx noted the subtle harshness in the Nymph’s voice. No games, all business. 

Perhaps they knew about his facade, but they could also be clueless to the situation.

It wouldn’t be smart to egg them on now. No, he still needed time. He needed to play along.

For now.

“Then go back to work. Can’t a man go for a walk without being harrassed?” Fixx groaned dramatically.

The Alrune huffed and lifted his left hand out towards the man, a light green glow emanating from his palm. After a second, the spear planted behind Fixx flashed the same green color and disappeared, reappearing in his hand.

“OK. Not only are you fully aware of the curfew, you know good and damn well this area is off-limits.” Terran countered back swiftly, not missing a beat in the conversation.

“Was it truly that late? My sincerest apologies.” Fixx snorted back, rolling his eyes. “I must’ve lost track of time.”

“You surely must’ve…” Terran bit back, holding his weapon over his shoulder.

“But then, why aren’t you abiding by the curfew? I didn’t take you for the ‘sneak out and hook up in the woods’ type, but with my Primo, no less?” The man then fake gasped, lifting his hand to his mouth, feigning shock. “Primo! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Fuck off, Fixx. You’re not funny.” Geddeon quipped at the man, folding his arms over his broad chest. “I’m here to find you, unfortunately.”

The man tilted his head in surprise. “You’re looking for me? To what do I owe to pleasure?” 

“You are the last person I ever wanted to find. The Reyes sent me to bring you back to All Hallows.” The Prince elaborated.

‘The Kings of the Autumnal Ruins. Summoning me?’

What an interesting turn of events.

He could travel back to the Ruins now, but then he wouldn’t be able to leave without being under surveillance. His plans in Verne Valley weren’t yet completed.

He still needed more time.

“No.” The man responded. “I don’t think I will.”

“Excuse me?” Geddeon said coldly.

‘I’ve been gone for centuries, and those bastards send their runt to collect me?’

“I have other arrangements that require my attention. I do not bow to false kings, and I will not be ordered around like a filthy mutt.” Fixx spat back.

“Do you remember what I said the last time you disparaged my Kings?” The Prince warned, stepping forward.

“Careful, Primo. I’m still under the protection of Mother Nature. You can’t touch me here without an international incident.” Fixx noted with a sneer, turning heel and his back to the two.

“He might not be able to, but you’re still within my range.” Terran spoke up, his grip tightening on his polearm.

“And I’m sure your mother would be rather disappointed in you for starting a fight with a refugee.” The man reminded the Alrune, walking away from the men. “Face it; you both are pathetic excuses of Title Holders and truly not worth my time to continue speaking to, so if you will excuse me.”

Fixx kept his stride and listened further for following footsteps, but he heard none. 

They weren’t following him, because in truth, there was nothing more to say.

Besides, he had plans to finish.

Perhaps the Voice was right all along.

They were all mere flies in a much larger web. 

There was a method to the madness, and he was starting to understand it.