Previous | Table of Contents | Next
Ralph swallowed back his saliva and prodded the food on his plate with the fork he had been given. The soldiers were sitting in neat rows with their legs crossed, and Sir Edward was pushing a cart filled with food, giving each soldier a choice of dinner, dessert, and drink. The warmth coming off of the meal and into his lap caused a shiver to run down Ralph’s spine. How long had it been since he had last eaten a plate of hot mashed potatoes and chicken? Actually, how long had it been since he had eaten anything?
“I have a question,” one of the soldiers near Ralph said and raised his hand at Sir Edward.
Sir Edward raised an eyebrow and turned towards the man, whose plate was already empty. “Yes?” he asked. “What is it?”
“How do you have enough food to feed all of us? What are you even feeding us?” the soldier asked. “We haven’t seen any farms or any wildlife to hunt on our way here. How is it possible for you to provide this much food?”
Sir Edward laughed. “Oh, that? We get the souls of whatever foods our host eats. If our host eats a carrot, then we’ll find a carrot in our supplies; at least, that’s what I was told when I asked about where it came from.”
“I see.” The soldier furrowed his brow and stared at his empty plate. He smiled and relaxed before bringing the plate up to his face and licking clean the sauce.
Ralph swallowed his saliva again and turned his gaze away from his companion and onto his plate. He used his knife and fork to cut off a piece of mystery meat and placed it into his mouth. If he was eating something that the host already ate, was he eating something that was intact or digested? It seemed pretty solid. And it tasted like chicken but springier. Well, it didn’t matter. Food was food and it’d be a waste not to eat it. There was just one thing. “Sir Edward,” Ralph said through mouthfuls, “I have a question too.”
“Ask away, lad,” Sir Edward said and straightened his back after passing a man a plate.
“Assuming the souls of food can only be consumed once, how is it possible to feed an army of a million of us?” Ralph gestured around with his head. “Are you saying the host we’ve invaded has eaten over a million dinners? There aren’t even close to that many days in a hundred years.”
Sir Edward sighed. “Would you like to know a secret, lad?”
Ralph wet his lips with his tongue and nodded.
“I … entered this host because he ate me.” Sir Edward sighed and stared up at the sky. “The host is a very hungry man.”
Ralph’s eyes bulged. “Did he … eat you alive?” If Sir Edward was already dead, then it wouldn’t make sense for his soul to enter this place after being eaten since it would’ve been gone. Wait. Didn’t that mean whatever he was eating now had also been eaten alive? What kind of body was Zyocuh trying to take over this time? A dragon?
“Not really alive, no,” Sir Edward said and ran his mustache through the tips of his fingers. “I was a soul when he ate me.”
“Another question, Sir Edward,” Lord Briffault said, raising his fork into the air. “What kind of man are we invading?”
Sir Edward shuddered. “A savage. You’re invading an absolute monster. I hope—”
An earth-shattering roar echoed out of the castle. Earthen spears rose out of the ground in waves, traveling along with the shockwave created by the sound. Soldiers screamed and cursed as their plates were knocked away from them, and nearly all of them tried to save their food before helping their companions. Ralph exhaled in relief and lifted his plate. Luckily for him, the spike only stabbed through his thigh and didn’t hit his meal.
“Mages, on guard!” the magician commander shouted. “What were you slackers doing? My meal was almost ruined!”
“We want to eat too, commander!” a voice shouted back. “It’s not fair that only magicians have to be prepared at all times.”
“Huh!? Not fair? Not fair!? What do you expect normal soldiers to do against magic? Eat it? You buffoons had one job!” The infantry commander rose to his feet and threw his shattered plate at the magician who had just complained. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a drink!? But I couldn’t even take a sip; the ground drank it because you couldn’t do your damn job! When we march, who carries the supplies? Not the magicians! When we march, who’s forced to walk? Not the magicians! When we set up camp, who does all the work? Not the magicians! After all that luxury, you can’t even do what we pampered you for!?”
“Hey! We don’t get that treatment anymore after becoming souls! We don’t have any supplies or mounts or camps,” another magician said. “We do more work than everyone else, but we don’t even get a pat on the back! You won’t even let me enjoy a meal without letting my guard down? I quit!”
The infantry commander’s eyes bulged as he pointed a shaking finger at the magician. “You can’t quit, you numbskull! Where are you going to go?”
“Oh.” The magician frowned. “You’re right.” He looked around. “I’d like to apply to the cavalry division!”
“We have a bigger problem than who has or hasn’t done what!” Lord Briffault shouted. “Look towards the castle!”
The army stopped bickering with one another and turned their attention towards the castle walls. From one of the windows, a black dragon’s head was staring down at them. It opened its mouth and let out another roar that shook the earth and sent more spikes into the army. It blinked twice at the result and smiled while chuckling. Then it let out another roar. When the spikes were stopped by barriers on the ground, the dragon’s smile faded, and its eyes narrowed into slits. It pulled its head back, narrowly avoiding a string of spells and arrows.
Lord Briffault stared at the open window, his bow drawn, the string pressed against his lips, ready to fire his arrow at any moment. But the beast didn’t reappear. A soldier next to him muttered, “Did we scare it away?”
“That’s the wrong question,” Lord Briffault said, not taking his eyes off the window. “The real question is what the heck was that?”
“At least it answered the question of why the castle’s big enough to house a dragon,” Ralph said through mouthfuls of meat. As a normal soldier with only a spear and shield, he couldn’t block the earthen spikes or attack the dragon when it showed its head, and for that, he was thankful. It wasn’t often the dead got to enjoy a meal.
Ralph is the best.
I get the feeling he might be sticking around as one of Vur’s inhabitants.