bolderfell | Prismatica Inbox

Overconfidence always comes with a price. I hope you made him regret it.

I wonder.

[But he doesn't unpack what, exactly, he wonders about.]

I had to explain some of it to Cordelia and Heathcote when I returned empty-handed. Neither of them disbelieved me. Cordelia...told me she understood. And she did. I'd thought her such a meek little naif, a sheltered princess standing in Heathcote's shadow, but I didn't know...exactly how much betrayal she'd had to endure. Not until then. And she still, somehow, always managed to see me or Heathcote off with a farewell. And with her trust.

I didn't think of it until later, but at seventeen, she's about the age I was when Darius tried to kill me. You said I was a child when I met him. How young must she have been, to be so much stronger at that age?

The sort of betrayal, I suppose, that leads a sheltered girl and her aged retainer to resort to the services of a thief for help. I was wrong, before — their consigning you wasn't about moral character at all.

It was that she had no one left. Wasn't it.

Yeah. No one but Heathcote.

This is what she told me: 'From the moment we met...Heathcote has never once betrayed me.' Just that. She didn't mention any grand gestures or oaths he swore her. The old man just never, ever did anything to shake loose her belief. That's why she can still trust others, she told me. And she said that that trust, even after everything she's been through, was what made her strong.

And she said...that she had faith in me, too.

A seventeen-year-old girl. I'll never forget it.

And suddenly it wasn't about the bangle or your pride.

You were ready to do it for her. For that faith she had in you.

A stronger leash than any stupid metal band, isn't it? And at the same time, it's probably the one thing that set me free.

After that, with some assistance from Heathcote, I won both the gold and emerald stones from Darius and brought them back to Bolderfall. This time, when Cordelia asked Heathcote to unlock the bangle...well. Old coot said there was no need. What do you know, the lock was undone way back at the return of the second stone.

...

And you hadn't noticed?

Did I, didn't I? Who can say.

Answer me, or I'll tell you a terribly unsatisfying story.

Come on, saying one way or the other isn't nearly as good storytelling. Isn't it better when both are equally true?

No, and you know very well it isn't, and I'll remember this, you insufferable brat.

But don't worry, I'll have my little revenge sooner or later.

I'm shaking in my boots. What do you have for me, then?

I do like to see you tremble.

But regardless, I think I'll tell you a story about an object, myself. A treasure of sorts, that held the power to grant its user's heart's desire, when bathed in the light of the full moon.

Ah, magical and dangerous. Bet it's pretty, too.

Think it's clear by now I'll never say no to a story about treasure. What's this one called?

The Forlorn Hope. It's a mirror, about the size of a person's hand. It's also one of a set of three treasures known as the Artifacts of Darkness, said to exist in the world for the sake of balance. For good to exist, there must also be evil in equal measure. In this case, someone saw fit to concentrate that evil into this particular trio of artifacts.

But before I tell you any more about it, I want an answer from you. What would you do with such a treasure, if you were to possess it? What desire would using it grant you?

[From the length of time he takes to answer, he's giving it the careful thought a question like that deserves, even if what he finally ends up saying is just:]

I don't know. Don't know that I would have a use for something like that. Even if I didn't know it was somehow full of evil -- and don't get me wrong. If I knew, I wouldn't use it because I'm a mistrustful cynic, not because I'm some kind of saint -- I just can't think of anything I'd ever want that badly.

Probably I'd keep it around in case some need arose. But maybe not. Just not the kind of thing I typically go in for.

Cordelia is stricken with poison and will die before an antidote can be found. You're watching her perish, slowly and in pain, before your eyes.

She's hiding it from you, badly but dutifully, because she fears it would be bothersome to you to allow you see her suffering.

Yes. I'd use it.

A demon who used it once felt similarly.

It's a little-known bit of apocrypha in the long tale of the Forlorn Hope. A demon risked life and limb to spirit away the treasure from the vault where it was kept, not to conquer the world or to imbue itself with infinite power, but because a wish on the Forlorn Hope might preserve the life of a human woman.

It's rare for a demon to develop that sort of sentiment. Most demons that sympathize with humans are seen as traitors to their own kind. But I always thought it a little admirable of that one, to set out to do something so selfless.

Of course, it's not called the Forlorn Hope without reason. There are conditions attached to the granting of one's heart's desire. And in this case, the price of the Forlorn Hope is the user's life.

Poetic, isn't it? It grants its user's greatest desire, and they will never live to see it come to fruition. They die with forlorn hope.

The only poetry I'm familiar with comes out of the drunks in bad taverns. Never could figure out why 'poetic' usually means 'sad.'

Knowing that, I'd still use it.

Yes, well. The story intrigued me, so on a lark, I stole the Forlorn Hope.

Clumsy me, as I was carrying it back to my hoard, I dropped it and shattered it on a stone. How fleetingly the evil was defeated by a little blunt force trauma; a pitiful end to an otherwise compelling tale, don't you think?

Too bad. Here I thought I'd be treated to a love story. How your parents met or something. Well, all's well that ends well, or ends in a hundred broken shards on the ground, anyway.

You really want to hear that badly if I knew the lock was undone?

[Hmmm. Hmm hmm hmm.]

You didn't ask for a love story. You asked for a story, with no guarantees of whether or not it was true.

[Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.]

And I wanted to test you.

With the question about the mirror, you mean?

Is that really how you think the story ended? I took the mirror and dropped it?

Setting aside everything else, have you ever known me to be clumsy?

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