Alistair watched as his life replayed before his eyes, questioning, "free who, and from whom?" These words reverberated in his mind like the haunting voices of the departed. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine himself as someone's knight in shining armor, let alone for a plant entity who didn't understand her own position.
From a logical standpoint, the lotus woman had brought this upon herself, so why was he being dragged into it? He used to believe that humans were the only race, but his reincarnation into another world had revealed fantastical beings he would have once called illusions.
"So why would she choose me out of the countless races available?" Alistair pondered, feeling the weight and absurdity of it all. It seemed ridiculous that someone desperately in need of assistance would make such a misguided choice.
What did he really know? What could he possibly do? Was this supposed deity betting everything on the meager tricks he had learned from his sisters? Did she believe that he could outsmart a supposedly depraved overlord?
"Ridiculous!" He exclaimed.
"Indeed! indeed!" The witch responded, caressing a large mole on her cheek. "But you know what else seems ridiculous?"
"Huh?!"
"A mere mortal triumphing over a supernatural entity at their own game with one decisive move." She retorted.
"Oh! So you believe there's a chance for me to defeat him?" Alistair inquired.
"I didn't say that," she shrugged, displaying a contemptuous expression as she pondered how effortlessly a worthless human disregards their own flaws and imagines they can stand against a supernatural being because they bested another on a whim. "You would surely perish before even reaching his domain."
"Ugh, your words offer no assistance." Alistair frowned.
"That's precisely the intention; I am in no position to aid you in overthrowing a dear friend of mine. And even if I were, a mere fraction of my power bestowed upon your insignificant existence would make no difference." She growled at him.
"Wait, so even you cannot defeat him?" He questioned.
"I didn't say that," she growled once more.
Alistair grew increasingly frustrated with her lack of clarity. "Observing a witch playing her part is truly exasperating!" He thought.
"Only another supernatural entity can surpass one of their own kind. You would succumb to his power long before you gather the strength to wield any power I grant you." She stated. "My apologies, but you are simply too ordinary to be of any significance in the presence of the supernatural."
Alistair wore a smug expression as he proposed, "How about we strike a deal in exchange for your help?"
She growled in response, fixing her gaze on him like a vulture assessing its prey. Alistair winced, struck by the eerie resemblance to the deafening cries he had heard in the swamp. "What could you possibly offer that would be worth my while?" she demanded.
He hesitated, second-guessing his decision, but ultimately plucked up the courage to speak. "I can offer you a chance to reclaim the pride you inadvertently lost to a mere human," he suggested.
Making sure she understood correctly, he asked, "If I'm not mistaken, according to the story you just shared, one can conquer and claim another's territory, correct?" She nodded slowly in agreement. "Then, by outsmarting you in your own game, I have taken possession of your territories. Just like in the game of 'GO,' they are now mine!" he declared, silently praying that his audacious move wouldn't backfire. The uneasy aura emanating from her felt maddening, enough to drive anyone to insanity.
The room's glow intensified, and the sound of shattering glass accompanied the doll as it cracked further. Suddenly, the room fell into an eerie silence.
"What's stopping me from killing you and feeding your remains to the beasts of this world?" she inquired, never once averting her eyes. "I imagine that would be an effortless way to reclaim what's rightfully mine." The tension in the room escalated to a new level.
"Damn it! I might have given her a reason to kill me," he fretted, nervously biting his lip. "What should I say? How do I get myself out of this mess? Any sign of hesitation would only convince her that I'm desperately trying to deceive her." He pondered, regretting the path he had chosen.
"Well...you won't! Your pride won't allow it. You won't stoop to such a cowardly act, considering I conquered your territory using your own rules. You would want to prove yourself, reclaim your dignity by besting me instead," Alistair rambled, thinking, "that's it, I've found the right hack button."
"Hmmm," she sighed. "It's unfortunate that you believe in the inherent goodness of people. Virtue doesn't exist in this world; individuals employ deceitful means to strip others of their most precious possessions." She stated. Alistair felt an urgent impulse to scramble to his feet and flee for his life, but where could he possibly go? "However, you are correct. I am not one of those people. Go ahead, state your bargain in full."
"Great, it worked! I did it!" He celebrated silently. "Help me defeat the evil king. If I die, you win... you get your swamp back. If I succeed, you win even bigger... you get his entire territory, plus another game with me to claim your own land." Alistair proposed with a hidden smile.
An extended silence fell, like one of those rare moments when the mind wrestles with a decision. "In either scenario, I win. This offer is quite enticing," she responded, and he hoped there would be no "but"...
"But, I can only do two things. I can prepare you for your encounter with him, alone! And I can ensure you make it into his territory unharmed. How you defeat him will be solely your responsibility... So, these are my conditions. Do we have a deal?"
Anxiety consumed Alistair as he nervously chewed his nails. He had expected more assistance from the witch than he was receiving. It was clear that he had no concrete plan for defeating the vile king. All he wanted was to return home.
"The lotus is undoubtedly powerful, but it lacks an on-off switch. I have no way of activating it at will. Moreover, if her powers were truly exceptional among these supernatural beings, why hasn't she freed herself already?" Alistair contemplated internally.
"We don't have all day..." She urged, her voice filled with eagerness to seal their agreement and his fate. But what other choice did he have? If he didn't want to spend the rest of his life constantly on the run from these creatures, he had to give it a shot at least.
"It's a deal!" He finally relented, giving her what she desired.
She observed him intently for a moment, her brow furrowing with thought. "Now, let's address my role in all of this," she stated, her gaze rapidly scanning the room. "Ah, yes. Flight. Your first task will be to acquire the skill of flying."
A surge of anticipation flooded through Alistair's veins as he couldn't help but ponder if she was in actual fact referring to mythical wings that would sprout from his shoulders. Could she possibly summon a pair of powerful wings for him?
"That would be incredibly convenient," he mused, flexing his shoulders in anticipation.
With a swift motion, she moved across the room, her footsteps echoing against the marble walls, until she reached a rack hanging by the side.
"Have you heard of the game know as quidditch?" She asked, picking up one of the many broomsticks by the wall, unlike the others, this one had no runes engraved on it.
Upon seeing what might be his new transportation object, Alistair's heart sank. "Here I thought I was going to get a pair of wings..." He muttered, disdain written all over his face.
"No, I haven't!"
She poked her fingers into her nostrils, stirred, and scooped out a large amount of mucous. The sight of it was so disgusting, it made Alistair throw up. Then he heard, "you dare not dirty my premises."
To Alistair's surprise, the mucous glowed with a purple hue, she proceeded to carve some of those ancient runes onto the new broomstick with the mucous. "The game of quidditch is a team sport played while straddling a broomstick and tossing some kind of ball around... but the sport is not of much interest." She said while carving.
"I invented the broom straddling technique which has lived on for thousands of years. Even some of your kind have incorporated it and made it into the game of quidditch!" She spoked, as she was almost done with the runes.
Although his wishes for having wings where instantly flashed out of the window, he felt an endearing interest into the thought of flying on a broomsticks.
"I have always wondered how witches pull that off, and the thrill that comes with it. Some of them pack up lots of speed, that could leave even a formula one racing car in the dust. And to think I am in the presence of the creator of such an absurd but artistic technique." He sat there daydreaming. "She must be proud, I mean, who wouldn't be?"
Suddenly, a blinding glow emanated from the broomstick, breaking Alistair out of his pipedream. He could see and feel the broomstick radiating with so much light and power that interrupted his senses for awhile, leaving his in a vertigo.
The light and energy died down the next moment, and the room was plunged back into darkness.
"Who wants to learn how to fly?" He heard her ask...
***