They traversed the forest as discreetly as was possible with Spiral’s hulking mech; ducking behind trees and hiding in crevasses. No patrols were present. No defenses at all. This gave Spiral a sneaking suspicion that they were being intentionally directed along this rout.

As if to solidify her concerns and odd bard called out, resting against a tree. Dressed in silks and satin, he seemed very well to do with the notable exception of having no eyes. Merely a concaved area was found where they ought to be and he cradled a mandolin. “Ho, travelers! Do my ears deceive me? What brings you to this fine land outside of space and time?”

“I am Spiral and this is my companion, Alouve. We were bound for Mortimer Castle actually, but what do you mean outside of space and time? We’re lost I’m afraid,” Spiral asked.

“My good lady, you’ve seen the planets? Scrumptious little things. I’m sure it is obvious to you we are not in the normal universe. This is Veiletto’s domain and things work differently here. But worry not for everything will be explained at the castle,” the bard plucked a few wrenchingly out of tune notes on his instrument. It sounded like a solarian crawsobber being lodged in the windpipe of a gragling sawbat. The ladies winced.

“Thank you. I don’t believe I caught your name sir?” Spiral asked, moving past it.

“Oh no need for names. I am but a humble bard,” the bard smirked.

“You know most bards can actually play their instruments,” Alouve remarked snidely.

“Alouve! I apologize for that. We shall be on our way,” Spiral headed for the castle again.

But just as they had turned their backs the bard called out again, “I should warn you- this is the territory of the great and deadly B Holder. I’d watch my step if I were you.”

“The beholder?” Alouve asked.

“No, B. Holder. That’s very important,” the bard corrected.

“We haven’t a choice in our destination but thank you for the warning,” Spiral said and moved on. He chuckled behind their backs.

A ways down the line Alouve asked, “what do you suppose this B Holder rubbish is?”

“I do not know but get the distinct suspicion we are being watched,” Spiral replied.

As they walked Spiral kept seeing phantoms out of the corners of her eyes. Shrewd shadows and malevolent strands of light. She couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Did that bard seem off to you?” Alouve asked.

“That was no bard. I have known many a bard in TriCora and they all have one thing in common: bards don’t smell that pleasant,” Spiral replied.

“I see, I, I, I_” Alouve began to panic.

“What is it? You what?” Spiral asked.

“No an eye! Right there!” Alouve pointed to an enormous floating eyeball. Although no face was attached it somehow had a lid and glared with a slit pupil and malicious intent.

“The lasers!” Spiral grabbed Alouve and bounded aside a blink before the eye blasted a laser. They rolled for cover.

More eyes appeared from nowhere; they seemed to open into existence. All different patterns, sizes and colors but all with the same goal: to char their target to cinders.

Spiral blasted some with her own lasers but they kept appearing. Around every corner, behind every branch and up into the sky, eyes upon eyes appeared. Spiral shielded Alouve with her mech but the armor was failing.

“We must flee!” They ran but the eyes kept coming. Soon the whole forest became a carnival of the malicious oculi! They closed in. There was nowhere left to run.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” somehow the bard stood before them. He’d torn his sleeves off to reveal very muscular and tanned arms. He pressed his hands together then, as he swung them apart, a line of eyes appeared in the wake of the motion. “I am no pitiful bard! Cower in fear for before you stands the awesome and terrible Betamix Holder! Get it? B. Holder? I told you that was important.”

“What do you seek with us?” Spiral asked.

“Why, to duel the second greatest warrior of TriCora of course! The great admiral who led the victory against Phallun’s devilish throng,” B. Holder announced.

“I could beat Magilike. So after this, you’ll return my pouch?” Spiral muttered.

“Good lady, I would were this not a fight… to the death!” with that B. Holder drew a silver greatsword and lunged to which Spiral easily parried with a beam sword of her own. She followed up with a punch from the other hand that sent B. Holder to the ground and proceeded to press her blade against his neck.

“Not so fast!” he jeered as a wall of eyes appeared behind him. They glared beams of blinding energy at Spiral’s mech, blowing the chest plate off and hurling it against a tree.

Spiral lay there, exposed as her armor sparked and faltered. B. Holder’s might was too much. But as he approached he sheathed his sword.

“You’re with child? I cannot slay a woman with child; what kind of burdock do you think I am? No, the great B. Holder only wishes to duel warriors in prime condition!” he held out his hand. Spiral begrudgingly took it and was hoisted to her feet with his strong arms.

“Lady Spiral and whatever your name is, my humble apologies. Please, stay the night at my castle. You are my honored guests. You’ll find this area a deathly trove of beasts by night,” B. Holder returned Spiral’s pack.

Spiral grimaced at the thought by remembered Sayth’s motto: “pragmatism”. Without a working mech she found herself left with little choice in the matter besides, she had her child’s health to think of as well. “Thank you. We accept your invitation,” she announced. She swept the remains of her mech into her pack regardless it being much smaller than the pieces.

​

-A Deck of Fates