The Legendary Fool

His vision had been clouded by red, an overwhelming desire for retaliation seeping out of his body with every exhale.

“Haah… haah….,” Tom huffed, his eyes still wide, his body shivering and his psyche teetering on the verge of madness.

A second later, remorse took hold of him but Tom refuted the urge to break out into tears— Zenakris Renain had done nothing except defend the sovereignty of his own mind and his reaction had been way overboard in the heat of the moment. He… was just grateful, thankful even, to know that he hadn’t stolen his memories, merely copied them.

He knew that his journey would be a tumultuous one in the best of times and down the path, he might be forced to defend himself against more than mindless beasts. But… to steal someone’s memories was condemning them to a far worst fate, atleast in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to use such a twisted power and even if he did, the toll it would take upon his mind— no.

Don’t think about that.

Perhaps the reason why he felt so terrible was because Zenakris was so… unexpectedly human. His thoughts, his desires and his dreams were so relatable… so normal that after having experienced the affection he felt for Valeria and the loyalty he had for his comrades, the respect their group showed for guards whose status they dwarfed and the honor they carried themselves with… Tom wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to harm the man even if they were locked into a confrontation.

Perhaps… that was the consequence of prying into someone’s mind, experiencing their memories as they were ones’ own.

That, however, wasn’t the greatest malady that plagued him.

A thought had taken root in his mind and he wasn’t sure how to placate it.

As someone who had experienced what it was like to die twice, he found Maya far more terrifying— to live in someone’s shoes for a day was one thing, but what if it had been a week? A month? A year? Would the person that came out still be him? What if he was currently in Maya?

What even was real? What was illusory?

No… wait. Calm down.

There was one thing.

Tom still vividly remembered how he felt in Zenakris’ footsteps. There was a cadence to his movements, a self-assuredness that he projected as he walked through the forest— Tom recalled how refined Zenakris’ or well, his movements had been when he’d noticed the shadowy silhouette poking out from behind cover. With a fluid flourish of his hands, he’d stripped and reformed the shadows into a ball as if he was the undisputed monarch of the darkness, [The Umbra] truly displaying how much an upgrade it was from just the [Common] rarity to the [Uncommon] rarity.

The ability to manipulate shadows, as fascinating as that was… the system only deemed it to be of the [Uncommon] rarity.

The entire time he had experienced Maya, he distinctly remembered being tethered to [The Umbra] card as if it were a natural extension of his ‘self, not once doubting the assertion that it was his [Soul Card]. It was as if… [The Fool] had never existed.

With quivering hands, Tom reached out inside his chest and a card responded. It was not the inky, chilling blackness of [The Umbra] that welcomed him, but instead it was a card that had a Jester sketched upon its surface. This time, it was not his visage sketched onto the card’s face, but instead Zenakris Renain’s— Tom was inches away from freaking out when he recalled the [Divine System’s] words.

“....

Taking comfort in the feeling of mystery and intrigue that [The Fool] card somehow exuded, Tom decided that it would be his cornerstone, the arbitrator between reality and illusion, illusion and reality. If he had to trust something, it had to be the one card that had allowed him to outfox the bearded old man, even if unintentionally.

Most of all, he needed it for his own sanity.

Taking a deep breath, Tom placed his hands over his face, cupping it gently. The skin was a little too rugged, the cheekbones a little too high. As his right hand inched towards his scalp, he did not find the tuft of unkempt hair that he was expecting, instead finding close-cropped, prickly hair that didn’t even possess an inch’s worth of length— hair that most decidedly did not belong to him and skin that felt foriegn to the touch.

Allowing himself to focus harder on the sensation, Tom realized that he could perceive a thin…. layer of something akin to an additional layer of membrane that ensconced the entirety of his body. He could feel the undulations in the membrane as he moved his head from left to right, as it shifted to accommodate his shocked expression.

How… odd.

The sensation remained alien no matter how many times Tom tried to get used to it, but it wasn’t outright uncomfortable. In fact, Tom had to be actively thinking about the membrane to even be able to perceive it, so it wouldn’t, or well, shouldn’t cause any hindrance in combat.

Even Zenakris’ [Card Gauntlet] had been mimicked to perfection, his mien now that of a trained academy student from a Noble Family as opposed to a shoddily dressed outsider.

He got back onto his feet, resting his back against the tree’s bark.

Think.

Evaluate.

What was the situation right now? Surreptitiously sneaking a glance from behind cover, Tom found no one in the spot he last remembered the group of academy students to be standing. That emboldened him and he gave his surroundings a more through sweep, once again finding nothing.

What did that mean?

It meant that Zenakris’ hadn’t been adversely affected by Maya, otherwise from what he knew of the other student’s demeanour, they would rush back to the Academy and his disguise would be useless.

Or… they’d already blown past him and were on their way back. But Tom found that unlikely— for as long as it had seemed that Maya had lasted, after spending more than a week in this forest, he had a firm grasp over the passage of time and could tell that less than an hour had passed.

Shit.

Tom almost let out an audible groan as he realized that… there was no time to go back for the stuff he’d left behind in the cave. Though most of his weapons were safely stored in his inventory, he had food and water only for five days— not having expected this excursion to last longer than that.

He couldn’t go back.

Tom would have loved to spend the next ten minutes deliberating his next move, but there was no time.

Fuck it.

Tom stepped out of cover, no longer bothering to creep around. He had first hand seen the academy students’ physical stats— if they managed to spot him, there would be no escaping their pursuit. So instead, he jogged over to the spot where he’d last seen the academy students.

Footsteps trailed off deeper into the forest, in the exact direction Tom had remembered them going in. That didn’t necessarily mean anything good, but the worst case scenario seemed to have been averted.

It seemed that Maya’s intervention hadn’t been enough to make the academy party to outright retreat.

He took a second to retrace the path Zenakris took to reach the forest, and without further ado, took off into a sprint south-eastward. To think that he had come so close to the forest’s periphery yet it would’ve taken him weeks longer before he discovered the path to freedom…. It only highlighted how alone and vulnerable Tom was.

Tears trickled down Tom’s cheeks as the all enshrouding canopy of the forest was replaced by the warmth of the sun beating down upon him. Grassy plains stretched out for as far as the eye could see, the eerie atmosphere of the forest, or rather, the menagerie of otherworldly monsters, replaced with the nurturing warmth of the sun, even if it may not be his sun.

He had survived where many many men stronger than him, smarter than him and far more athletic would have faltered. He had entered the forest an untempered block of iron and stepped out a hammer forged sword that concealed a sharpness beyond what one would perceive on first impression.

Wiping the tears away, Tom began to walk forward, making changes to his gait as he did so. He was no method actor, but then again, method actors did not have the opportunity to pry into their subjects' minds and memories. His his right fist was clenched as he walked, allowing his arm to swing at his side as he took quick steps forward, his body language conveying his agitation. There was one anomaly in his movement though, highlighting the difference between a good actor and a great one— despite his anger, Tom’s ‘gauntleted’ arm was held still at the chest level, with the discipline of a soldier holding a gun and his gaze flitted every few seconds, scanning the area for threats.

Angry as he was ‘supposed’ to be, that did not mean that Zenakris’ would allow himself to forget the training that had been engraved into his mind.

Soon, the [Dungeon] entrance came into sight.

“Halt there, laddy!” One of the guards shouted out, the same one that had spoken to Valeria earlier. He gave him an appraising look, his expression a little strange, before he spoke, “Ah thought yer were here to look fer a summon. Where’s tha rest of yer mates?”

It took Tom a few seconds to parse through the guard’s thick accent in a language he hadn’t known how to speak up until an hour ago. He compared the guards inflection to what Zenakris had construed earlier, and with a little guesswork the question roughly boiled down to what he had expected.

Tom averted his gaze away a little, letting out a forceful exhale before answering, “ Zenthum arrek’nalak ze rhhum no doria el kari-filnsari”

“Those people don’t deserve my companionship,” He replied, letting a little noble arrogance seep into his voice— or atleast, his best impression of arrogance. It wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

“Yer’all seemed pretty chummy earlier. Wait….,” The guard exchanged a quick glance with his fellow guardsman and both let out a light chortle.

This… was an unexpected turn.

Tom suppressed the churning anxiety in his gut, wondering if he’d made a mistake in his mannerisms or communication. But he didn’t do anything untoward, determined to maintain his act until the last moment.

“Kid, yer asked the little missy out, didnt’cha?” the guard asked.

Tom blinked.

“It was written all over yer face, lad,” The guard replied with a guffaw.

Tom let out an angry grunt, a light blush forming on his face even when he wasn’t the subject of their ribbing. Perhaps there were still some residual memories and emotions left from stepping into Maya, or it was his awkwardness choosing the wrong moment to act. Either way, it only deepened his act.

“Can I go now,” he near-snapped, still choosing to maintain a modicum of respect.

“Are the rest of yer friends alright?” The guard asked, his question asked now in the capacity of a representative of the [Divine System] even if it was at the lowest rung.

“Valeria is too powerful for anything in the menagerie to scratch her. I asked them to let me go on ahead first,” Tom replied with a sullen expression on his face. He still didn’t know how he felt about his nightmare being a…. Menagerie for academy students to capture pets…. It was both infuriating and gratifying, because ultimately it might have been the sole reason he had survived.

Thankfully, the guard nodded at his words.

While Zenakris alone was terrifying enough, he seemed to have a deep rooted inferiority complex that he tried to bury whenever he looked at Valeria. She had to be the real monster in the group, which only redoubled his motivation to get far away from this place.

“Alright, lad. Just so yer know, the [Dungeon] is scheduled to reset in about half an hour. Not that it should be a problem for yer but you can wait fer yer…erm, friends, if yer want to.”

FUCK.

Tom tried to hide his shock at those words but… he couldn’t hesitate now. There was no reason for Zenakris to be afraid of the [Nether Devils] but…he wasn’t Zenakris. But if he chose to wait or ran back to the forest, they’d know something was wrong, very wrong.

Half an hour… if he sprinted….

“No problem,” Tom replied, and the guards stepped aside.

As he descended into the cavern, only the guards muffled laughter was his companionment.

Sorry, Zenakris.