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Alaster kept walking.
1		Alaster kept walking.
2
3		It had to get away from the fighting. It had to keep the boy safe. That was its purpose.
4
5		The sounds of the battle – a crack of a pistol, the whine of magic – echoed through the alley way. Tim stirred, and then blinked awake.
6
7		“What’s going on?”
8
9		Alaster kept walking. It had to find a television.
10
11		Another magical whine. Timothy’s eyes widened.
12
13		“Alaster! What’s going on?”
14
15		The suit did not respond. There. A pawn shop. Closed for the night. The suit walked up, set Timothy down, and broke the glass window.
16
17		“We have to go back!”
18
19		Inside was a television on the counter. Obviously the owner watched it when there was no business. Alaster clattered through the store, pushing past the racks of old t-shirts and the boxes of antiques, and inspected it.
20
21		“Alaster! What about the lady? She could be hurt! We have to go back!”
22
23		Ah. It turned on here. Alaster pressed the power button, and then turned back to the boy.
24
25		“No! Alaster, LISTEN TO ME!”
26
27		It picked the boy up, turned back, and walked back inside, heedless of what channel was currently showing.
28
29		“ALASTER!”
30
31		It went through.
32
33		---
34
35		Once upon a time…
36
37		Once, the world had been similar to what it was now. Things were simpler, of course. No clockwork people, no memory crystals. But it was a happy time. Peace. No wars, no racial tensions. A man would feel at home in company with a dwarf, a Bandar Log, or a Hearthkin. It wasn’t Utopia, but it was an inkling of one. Sure, there were still things like injustice and poverty and famine, but there was hope too. People were happy, or at least the average person was.
38
39		And then the Nameless Horror came. Teus liked the irony of its description, but that wasn’t pertinent.
40
41		It screamed from the stars, blind, confused, with a noise like thunder. It landed, its impact destroying life for hundreds of miles around. For years it blundered through the realms, howling its rage to the world, its body cutting through the soil like acid. It brought death and left wastelands behind. Nothing grew where it had been. It devoured armies in its jaws, broke siege engines beneath its bulk, melted through the greatest fortresses. Millions died. Millions more were left devastated, homeless, without family or friends, with nothing.
42
43		And then one man had approached the beast, raised his hands, and said a single word.
44
45		The history scrolls were confusing beyond that point, but since there wasn’t an abomination crawling around the Realms, it appeared to have worked.
46
47		As Teus watched the frantic action on the scrying glass, he wished he knew what that word was. It’d hopefully solve THIS problem.Things were out of control. Poor Bartlebus had been due a promotion for his sterling interrogation work to boot. He made a mental note to have someone fill out the usual condolences form.
48
49		He leant forward, speaking to the remaining warmages
50
51		“The suit is escaping. Leave these people alone. Follow the suit!”
52
53		On his command, Jonah tuned his magical sight to the divine energy radiating from the suit, and saw it vanish in a rush of static. Swearing under his breath, he extended a hand.
54
55		“Mobil!”
56
57		A howl of wind, and suddenly the warmage was there. Abbadon turned, attempting to follow, but the loss of attention cost him his life as a bullet broke through the white breastplate.
58
59		Teus groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Make that two forms.
60
61		Jonah stared at the tv, and then shoved his hand into the screen and vanished as well.
62
63		The scrying glass blurred…
64
65		---
66
67		As soon as Alaster appeared on the roadside, Timothy broke from its grasp and dropped to the dirt at the side.
68
69		“Why didn’t you go back?!”
70
71		Alaster stopped. The boy sounded upset.
72
73		“You Were In Danger,” it ground out. “My Purpose Is –“
74
75		“That lady was in danger!” Tim’s face was red and his eyes were screwed up. “She needed help! Those, those people were after her! You should have gone back!”
76
77		“The Female Would Have Harmed You.”
78
79		“She DIDN’T HURT ME! I WAS ALRIGHT, YOU DUMMY! WE HAVE TO GO BACK! WE HAVE TO HELP HER!”
80
81		“This Is A Death Tournament. You Will Be Killed.”
82
83		“GO BACK!”
84
85		Alaster looked around.
86
87		“Not Possible. There Are No Televisions Nearby.”
88
89		“FIND ONE!”
90
91	-	Alaster tried again. The boy was not being logical. Emotion was clouding his judgement
91	+	Alaster tried again. The boy was not being logical. Emotion was clouding his judgement.
92	-	.
92	+
93	-	“It IS Not Safe. I Cannot Risk Your Life. This Is A Death Tournament. She Would Surely Kill you If She Was Given The Chance.”
93	+	“It Is Not Safe. I Cannot Risk Your Life. This Is A Death Tournament. She Would Surely Kill you If She Was Given The Chance.”
94
95		“I DON’T CARE! THEY WEREN’T EVEN PEOPLE BACK THERE! I CAN TELL! I’M ONLY EIGHT AND I WEAR STUPID POINTY SHOES AND I CAN TELL SOMETHING IS WRONG! THEY’LL HURT HER! I ORDER YOU TO GO BACK! I ORDER YOU!!”
96
97		Alaster remained silent for a while. Tim was breathing heavily. His eyes watered.
98
99		“Very Well.”
100
101		The suit kneeled, and hoisted Timothy up on its shoulder again. The boy looked… satisfied, perhaps.
102
103		“And no killing people. Those poll-ees people were fine. They’re… they’re not people. But don’t do it anymore, okay?”
104
105		“Very Well.”
106
107		They walked along the road for some time. Until the headlights appeared, that is.
108
109		---
110
111		Teus raised an eyebrow.
112
113		“Interesting.”
114
115		---
116
117		Due to the rules of stoner comedy, Jonah was now on a college campus, sprawled on a couch and completely stoned. Not that he minded.
118
119		He couldn’t help but think he was meant to do something, though.
120
121		And now he was hungry.
122
123		---
124
125		Three forms. It’d be easier that way.
126
127		---
128
129		Tschichold knew about suffering for art, but this was something else.
130
131		The word wobbled before his eyes. The paint-shade clutched the grass at the side of the road and waited for it to stop. It wouldn’t. He felt light-headed, too, and his limbs weren’t helping much. Oh, and the grass was far too long, and getting longer all the time. Damn hallucinations. Oh well, at least he was sober enough to know he was hallucinating. That counted for something, right?
132
133		“Go away,” he told the grass. It responded by turning a garish array of colours, a rainbow of bad taste wavering before his eyes.
134
135		“Stop it!”
136
137		It did.
138
139		The painter’s eye twitched.
140
141		“Goddamnit.”
142
143		And that was when Tim and Alaster found him, kneeling on the grass and muttering to himself.
144
145		“Um…”
146
147		Tim liked making friends. He didn’t have many at the castle. They called him names, like Yes-sick and Sick boy and No-parents. And Alaster had made things… better, but worse. So he liked meeting new people. He’d wanted to talk to the superhero lady, but Alaster wouldn’t let him. So maybe he could talk to this person!
148
149		But he looked weird. Tim clambered down from Alaster’s shoulder and stood, watching Tschichold carefully. Alaster’s eyeless gaze bored a hole somewhere on the horizon.
150
151		“Are you okay?” Tim ventured after a bit.
152
153		“No,” snapped Tschichold, “I’m not okay.”
154
155		The painter groaned again, and clutched his head. Who was this? He turned his head- oh, that wizard kid.
156
157		“Your robe is an awful colour,” he muttered.
158
159		“Really? You think so?”
160
161		“It is. It looks like a sack. I suppose the aesthetics are right for where you come from, but here you look like a bag. A bag of trash.”
162
163		Tschichold groaned and tried to make the dancing images stop. Tim looked down.
164
165		“I guess so,” he said, uncertain.
166
167		Alaster, meanwhile, stomped over to the car and peered inside. No, no television. There were, however, two figures in the back seat of the car, unmoving. The suit could not tell if they were dead or unconscious. They had been painted on, though. A lot. It doubted their clothes were actually that colour. And their mouths had been painted shut with thick layers of paint.
168
169		It made a mental note of this.
170
171		“Do you need any help, mister?”
172
173		Tschichold pushed himself up from his hands and knees, wobbled, and sat down again heavily. Paint pooled around him on the road.
174
175		“I’ll be- ”
176
177		He gagged and clapped a hand to his mouth. Then, very deliberately, he swallowed.
178
179		“No.”
180
181		Unfooled, Tim trotted over, and then reeled back at the fumes coming off of Tschichold. His face scrunched up.
182
183		“Phew! You smell funny, mister.”
184
185		“Smell can be art too,” replied the shade, and clutched his head again.
186
187		“And your shoes,” he added, as an afterthought. “Pointy shoes were out of fashion in the 1600’s. Seriously. I’m warning you, grass.”
188
189		Tim beamed. Someone else hated his shoes! That was great!
190
191		“We Need To Locate A Television,” ground out Alaster, studying the car.
192
193		Tschichold waved a hand vaguely in the air.
194
195		“Search me,” he groaned. “The idiots in the back were talking about going to a restaurant or something, though. God, their clothes were awful. Their voices! And they were high all the time! God, the smell ruins any work. Stop it, grass!”
196
197		“What does high mean?”
198
199		In response, Tschichold scooped a layer of green from his side and attempted to repaint the dead grass at the side of the road.
200
201		“This Vehicle Is Useless,” grunted Alaster. “Neither Timothy And I Can Operate It.”
202
203		It pointed a finger at the busy painter.
204
205		“Can You Operate It?”
206
207		Tschichold looked up.
208
209		“Not now. Busy making art.”
210
211		He turned back, now working with a deep blue. Tim and Alaster stared as he worked. To be fair, his blending was spectacular, but the Switzerman didn’t appreciate this. It reached an iron hand down, picked up the painter and turned him around to face the automaton.
212
213		“You Will Drive-“
214
215		Tschichold wrenched himself out of Alaster’s grasp.
216
217		“I’m BUSY,” he snapped. “This grass won’t repaint itself, you know.”
218
219		“Alaster?”
220
221		Alaster look around. Tim was wobbling.
222
223		“I don’t feel so good…” the boy complained. And then he toppled over.
224
225		Alaster hurled Tschichold aside, the painter yelping as he bounced off the car’s bonnet, and scooped Timothy up. The boy’s eyes were unfocused, and he looked pale. Perhaps he had inhaled some of the fumes coming from the shade. The mechanical man turned, glaring daggers at Tschichold, but the painter was now spreading the splatter of his paint across the hood of the car in a feverish attempt to make another creation.
226
227		Alaster pondered what to do next.
228
229		---
230
231		Genre panicked.
232
233		Comedy was hard to get right. Stoner Comedy even more so. And an eight-year-old getting high was NOT funny. On top of that, its main characters were out of action, and it couldn’t focus on the painter all day long. It had to find someone else. The movie had to continue along its assigned course. The show must go on.
234
235		And then it found someone.
236
237		---
238
239		Headlights became visible further down the road. They seemed to be bobbing left and right.
240
241		Alaster looked up as they approached, accompanied by the sound of an engine being punished for its crimes. Perfect. Perhaps the driver would assist. Although their driving pattern was erratic…
242
243		And then Ablendan Blake, beside himself with joy at having found another car and enough road to drive as recklessly as he wanted, saw the figures on the road and stamped on the brake pedal. The engine howled in protest, chocked and died. The tyres screeched. Smoke poured out of the front and the rear tyres. By a dint of luck, the car had slowed just enough to make a comical “dink” noise as its front bumper connected with Alaster’s thighs.
244
245		Tschichold looked up from his work.
246
247		“Oh, it’s him again,” he said offhandedly, and went back to his work.