A Journey of Black and Red-Novel

Chapter 113: Fist of the Drowned God

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Field Journal of Miranda Bingle

“We already lost someone,” Sheridan announces in a gruff voice. He is leaning against a trunk, looking out into the woods with his trigger on the finger of the custom needle gun I have made for him.

“Don’t mention it. I had to give Ozenne ten dollars.”

Sheridan looks positively shocked.

“I bet with him that the Prussian would die first,” I grumble as a way of explanation.

“Ariane, this man was alive just this morning.”

“And I was so looking forward to remedying the situation personally.”

Sheridan gives me a slightly disappointed, chiding look.

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“You know that most of these people are going to die, right? I explained it to you,” I tell him.

“This history has not been written yet!”

“It’s already half-way there. If you grab Miranda by the waist like a monkey right now and forcefully drag her to the ship, it will sink.”

We stare at each other and I do not relent. This expedition is doomed to succeed with terrible casualties.

“You can no more stop Godlings than you can stop the tide, Sheridan. Even if you manage to kill her, you will not succeed unless it makes sense from a narrative perspective. That is why I am not fighting the tide, and that is why I am stacking the odds in your favor.”

Sheridan’s coat, hat, and guns have been magically reinforced by my own hand. He could be shot in the chest at point-blank range and survive.

“Is this arsenal necessary? The coat is rather heavy.”

“I… lost your predecessor to a shot in the chest. I cannot force you to do anything, but I would appreciate it if you still wore it.”

There must have been some emotions at play, because Sheridan’s expression is one of deep sympathy.

“I am sorry. I did not know.”

“I want you to be safe.”

“Then, forgive me for asking, but why did you allow me to join?”

I stare at him, askance.

“You asked me.”

“And you said yes?”

“Vassal is an inexact term, Sheridan. We do not control you. In fact, we cannot really refuse you. You exist to challenge us and keep us human. Our very instinct will push against controlling or harming you. Even hurting a rival’s Vassal is taboo.”

I shiver at the memory of what Sinead did to that poor Cadiz vampire.

“I believe that you stand a very serious chance to make it out alive.”

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“How so?”

“I have been a part of the Bingle Epic since Miranda’s father came to our shore. I am reasonably certain that there is a thinking being behind all this nonsense.”

“How does this relate to my continued survival?”

“Should you fall, I will track down Miranda and rend her limb from limb. I will also massacre the rest of the expedition and burn down their notes. I clearly said so to Isaac.”

“Errrr.”

“There is no story when there is no one left to tell it.”

“I am not certain that you should threaten a powerful being in that manner. Did you not tell me that killing a Godling was impossible?”

“Ah, but I am already a character in this story. I will take my chances. I like them better than Miranda’s chances against a grieving vampire master in an enclosed island.”

“I see. I promise that I will wear my armor at all times for my own benefit then. It’s not even that heavy. By the way, we are looking for the denizens of this island. Have you found them yet? Can you lead us to them?”

“Oh yes, I have found them alright. Or rather, Syrrin showed me. And as for meeting them, don’t worry,” I finish with a toothy smile. “They will find you.”

Field Journal of Miranda Bingle

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