Mark of the Fool
Chapter 676: The Cabal's Fellowship

Alex’s question for Isolde didn’t come easy. In a way, he’d never wanted to ask it, too frightened of what her answer might be. It was a question he’d even avoided asking himself for the longest time, but eventually he had, finding peace with himself. The attack on Patrizia DePaolo’s ball—which felt like a lifetime ago—was what he’d wrestled with, wondering if he was to blame. He knew for certain that the attack never would have happened if he hadn’t left Thameland’s shores. That was a fact, just as it was a fact that he had no way of knowing what would have happenedifhe’d accepted his ‘duties’ and simply served the other Heroes as the Fool.

But, he could make some pretty good guesses, most involving him lying dead in a cave somewhere, his corpse now nothing but bones.

He also knew that Uldar’s secrets wouldn’t have been revealed.

The power of dungeon core essence would never have been uncovered.

Untold numbers of dead demons would still be alive, roaming free to torment mortals.

Hannah might have never developed a stronger connection with the material world.

The hidden church wouldn’t have been exposed.

And—when the Heroes eventually defeat the Ravener—the cycle would have just continued century after century, destroying innocent Thameish lives. More lives would continue to be shattered, including endless streams of Chosens, Champions, Sages, Saints and Fools, fighting the futile wars of a dead god.

Another cost if he'd followed that ‘duty’? His sister would no longer have a brother, Theresa would have lost her best friend, and there would be no Claygon.

For all the good that his leaving Thameland had brought, there were also lives taken that likely would not have been lost had he just quietly accepted his fate.

Carey would still be walking the halls of Generasi, in all likelihood, researching alchemy, looking for a permanent solution to the Ravener, still happily hosting meetings with members of Campus for Uldar.

People who’d died after the Ravener became more aggressive would likely still be alive, including those who’d died on the expedition.

For that matter, there’d be no expedition between Thameland and Generasi.

He vividly remembered the attack on Patrizia DePaolo’s ball, and would for the rest of his days.

If he’d been in Thameland, Uldar’s Ravener-spawn wouldn’t have been there, leading a horde of monsters into a moonlit garden. Everyone who'd been maimed, traumatised, or killed, would be well, reliving wonderful memories of a magical evening spent dining, drinking, dancing and sharing time together.

For the longest time, part of him would wonder if Isolde blamed him for what had happened, but he’d been too afraid to voice the question.

Now, he’d finally said the words, and she’d answered with:

“I shall be honest with you. Under slightly different circumstances? Yes. Yes I absolutely would have.”

He had to know what that meant.

Khalik and Thundar were silent, exchanging nervous glances.

“What circumstances, Isolde?” Alex asked.

Her answer came quickly and decisively. “If you had known that you were being hunted by these clawed beasts—that they had tracked you all the way from Thameland—and that you were the target of their violence while you walked around the school and then my cousin’s ball without telling anyone?”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “If you had risked so many people’s lives simply because you wanted to have fun? Then yes, I would have blamed you. I would have done more than simply blamed you. But you did not know.”

“No…” Alex said. “But from the moment I picked up the dungeon core and found out that mortals could link with them, I knew that someone or something would likely come after me.”

“Yes, but did you know that with certainty, or were you guessing?” Isolde raised an eyebrow. “If you did not know, then you did not know. It is as simple as that. How could I judge you for it? I am a noble and the granddaughter of one of the most powerful wizards in all the Rhinean Empire. Naturally, I was the target of all manner of plots when I was younger. Including kidnap and assassination plots.”

“As was I,” Khalik admitted.

“And we could only guess as to whether or not we would be targeted in Generasi. In fact, you had less evidence and experience to suggest you would be a target than either myself or Khalik.” She sniffed. “And, Alex, you have studied too long to conflate guesses with actual knowledge. You only had guesses and the vaguest of guesses, at that. There was no evidence to make you believe that you were actively placing yourself or anyone else in danger by going to my cousin’s ball,” she paused. I will tell you something. If nothing else could have convinced me that you did not know, this alone would have... You brought your young sister and Theresa with you, and I know you well enough to be certain that you would never risk them, no matter what. So, my answer? I do not blame you. I blame your filthy, dead god.”

She snatched a grape from the platter, angrily grinding it between her teeth. “That is one very good reason why we worship the elements in the Rhinean Empire; the elements can be cruel, unwavering, and destructive. But they do not connive. They do not lie.”

“Yeah, that sounds kinda nice,” Alex said, with some bitterness. “And…uh, thank you. Hearing what you think means a lot. And, for what it’s worth, I wish I’d known for sure that I was being hunted; I definitely would’ve stayed away from your cousin’s party. I would have made a lot of different choices.”

“I wish that we all had more information,” Isolde said, her eyes dropping and shoulders slumping. “If we had, then we could have saved many from harm at my cousin’s villa…but the trouble is not what information we had or did not have, but what folk will perceive that we had.”

Her blue eyes bored into Alex’s. “I will not lie to you, though, this will not look good from Giuseppe’s perspective. When your secret reaches him, all he will see is that a disguised Thameish fugitive came to his ball, and a pack of Thameish monsters attacked his guests, causing a lot of harm. I promise to try and convince him—and those in his circle—that none of us knew there could be the possibility of an attack, but he will already know that we kept one secret from him. So why would he not suspect us of keeping more?”

“And besides, the truth might not matter,” Khalik said. “People will look for someone to blame, and you will be an easy target, Alex. What of you, though, Isolde? Do you think this will cause a rift in your relationship with Giuseppe?”

“I surely hope not, but I suspect that it will. If he learns I kept Alex’s secret from him, then he might blame me anyway,” she said sadly. “I do not want any trouble with him, but the choice is not mine to make.”

“It would be a pity for him to turn against kin over Uldar’s crimes…and then there is Sinope to think of as well.” Khalik glanced through the window at the garden outside. “The dryads have had good relations with your cousin; I would not wish for our conflict to spill over to her people.”

“Well, that’s the problem with conflict.” Thundar scooped up a handful of cheese, stuffing it in his mouth. “Sometimes it just starts swinging at you when you weren’t even doing anything. Hell, sometimes it hurts people who weren’t involved with it more than it does the ones who started it. Back home, I remember seeing a couple of young warriors get into this brawl—don’t know what it was even about—well, they were swinging at each other, locking horns, pounding the ground with their hooves when one of their fists went wide and smashed into this fellow who was just passing by. The poor guy dropped like a rock while the two fighting assholes just kept at it like nothing happened.”

Alex growled. “Uldar started all this, and we have to suffer for his choices…meanwhile, he’s too damned dead to face a single consequence. It’s maddening, and I’m sick of this bullshit.”

“Then better to have this situation resolved as quickly as possible,” Isolde leaned forward in her chair. “Have you and Professor Jules made progress with his notes?”

Alex raised his hand, teetering it back and forth. “We’ve been working on them, but haven’t really made a lot of progress. We have to go through his notes line by line, then test all of his secret formulae to see how they coordinate with modern alchemy. It basically means that every time we find a new formula—and there’s a lot of them in that book—we have to extrapolate what it might be, run experiments using the formula, then see if we can reverse engineer what its equivalent is in modern alchemy. The process is bloody slow, and it’s not like we’ve had a ton of time lately.”

“That is understandable.” Isolde leaned back. “Perhaps I can be of assistance then. Admittedly, I lack Professor Jules’ experience, and you have the Mark to enhance your proficiency and knowledge, but I am a good alchemist. A very good alchemist. If you give me access to your laboratory, then I can run my own experiments. Or maybe, I can ask Professor Jules for access to one of hers…yes, I think that will work better.“

“You don’t have to do that, Isolde.” Alex waved a hand. “Look, you’re in your final year; those aren’t exactly easy courses you’re taking, and you’re still on the expedition.”

“And I shall excel at my studies, the expedition, and this,” she said. “But—as we know—the situation is dire, and sometimes there are things more important than studies.”

Khalik and Thundar looked at each other.

“Nope, I cannot take it!” the prince cried. “Once was enough, but saying something like that twice? I feel faint!”

He collapsed from the table while the minotaur flopped on the ground, tugging at his horns.

“The world is ending!” Thundar cried. “Flee! Flee for your liv—”

“The world will truly be ending—but just for the two of you—if you do not stop laughing at me this instant!” the young noblewoman cried.

Laughing, the prince and minotaur got back in their chairs.

Alex called on every bit of training and every fibre of his will to not crack a smile.

‘By the Traveller, I love these people,’ he thought.

“Alright!” Thundar clapped. “Let’s focus up, again. We’re a cabal, and one of our members is in trouble. Let’s figure out what we can do next. Alex, do you want us to spread what we saw at Uldar’s Rise? Tell our own stories about the great stuff you did?”

“No, I think you’re too close to me for that.” the Thameish wizard shook his head. “Remember when Govert Berensteyn tried to shut down the bakery the day we opened? Well, the reason his plan failed was because it was obvious. We were only open for a few hours and all of a sudden, there’s all these people on every street corner claiming our food poisoned them? I mean, sure, if we hadn’t caught the scam, it could have worked—it was working for a while—but imagine if he’d been subtle, patient and waited? What if he’d had his agents talk about being ‘poisoned’ over a period of days, weeks or even months? You know, just telling friends, letting those friends tell other friends, allowing the news to spread from person to person. His scheme would have been a lot harder to detect and—by the time I figured out that something fishy was going on—the damage would have been done.”

In a nod to Isolde’s grandfather’s wisdom, he tapped the side of his skull. “We’ve got to be smarter than that.”

The young noblewoman smiled at the tribute.

“We won’t make Govert’s mistakes,” Alex continued. “We have to let the rumours about me travel naturally. They’re already starting to spread, so all we have to do is let them.”

“Well, we can’t just sit on our butts and do nothing,” Thundar rumbled.

“Agreed,” Khalik said.

“Absolutely not,” Isolde added.

“You won’t be doing nothing,” Alex promised. “You’ll be listening. Gathering information and telling me if you hear anyone talking about the Fool, and what kind of talk you’re hearing. That’ll help me get an idea of what the wizard-council’s response might be: if public opinion is bad, then it’ll be easy for them to make me someone else’s problem.”

“That’s easy: we’d be listening anyway! So, how about this? When you go confront your king? We’ll be right there with you.” Thundar grinned.

“My experience with nobility might help in this situation,” Isolde drew herself up to her full height, her chin rising. “The von Anmut family has engaged in many matters of diplomacy.”

“And I’ve had my share of speaking to kings,” Khalik laughed. “If worst comes to worst—if he is a monarch who has no interest in discussions with ‘commoners’—I can have my title announced and speak to him on your behalf.”

Alex startled. “You’d do that for me?”

“In a heartbeat!” Khalik clasped him by the shoulder. “What sort of friend would I be if I did not?”

Thundar cracked his knuckles. “I won’t have any fancy words or titles to help you with, but hells, if anything goes wrong, then I’m gonna bust some damned heads.”

Alex felt a lump in his throat.

“Listen to me, a lot of things have gone right and wrong in my life…but meeting the three of you was one of the…‘rightest’ things that has ever happened to me,” the young wizard said, his voice shaking. “No one in the world has friends like mine. No one in the world.”

“You are wrong,” Khalik said. “We do. Because we have each other, and you are our friend.”

The young Thameish wizard choked up, remembering a day long ago…when he’d followed a prince into the woods, looking for a large eagle.

“Thank you…thank you…” was all he could say.

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