The Dungeon Boss

An enemy admits his fault.

The Knight entered the final dungeon room. The stone brickwork on the floor was layered in a brittle layer of dust that fell away with each step. He walked the long hallway that was lit only with the sparse sunbeams that shone through the decaying roof. At the end of the chamber, steps led to an ornate golden throne; this too was wrought with dust. In the throne sat a skeleton, fully armored, who even though he was sitting was as tall as the knight who came to confront him. This was the King of the Nation of the Dead: a valley whose only residents were walking skeletons. Although they lacked flesh, they were by no means dead, in fact the name is a misnomer and only comes from their appearance and was given to them by the humans.

"Halt." The King commanded. His empty eyes became aglow with orange, signifying his alertness. "I am not your opposer." the King Continued, "You have slain many of this valley's denizens, that I will not hold you accountable for, as it is my foolishness that has caused them to hunt you. Allow me to tell you about my people, about who we were and why we have been cursed, and perhaps you will be able to bring some relief to this broken place."

The Knight considered this offer. He had only gotten this far because of his strength and had not expected a test of wit. A thousand thoughts flew through his head at once. Perhaps he is truthful and should hear him out. Perhaps this was a ruse and existed only to lower his guard. Perhaps the King is trying to buy time until reinforcements arrived. The Knight had never had a dungeon boss try to reason with him. And the chance that he might be able to reduce conflict in his volatile world was attractive.

"Very well." The Knight keeps his sword unsheathed due to the lack of trust. "Tell me about your people."

The King slowly rose from his throne. The sound of grinding metal echoed through the hall. He turned to look at the wall; there hang an empty picture frame. Whatever painting was inside has clearly decayed into nothing, yet it still brought memories back to the King.

"My people used to live comfortably. We all worked together and built large monuments with our combined strength, like the one you've been walking through. But my people were uneducated as to the workings of the world, as was I. As a result, we had many obscure rituals and superstitions, none of which had any real effect on anything. But one of the superstitions was that, when one became old and could not work, their soul had already left them. This caused an unacknowledged sense of ageism. A certain part of the town was dedicated to storing old ones like you would store cattle. They lived terrible, unfulfilling lives. And this went on for generations. Then I became King, and I felt it a part of my duties to keep on these practices. I was as ignorant as my followers. While I was ruling, a prophet entered my court, a Human. He told us the truth, that those people were not dead, and we should take care of them and make sure their lives are good instead of holding them in cells like we were. He told me that if we did not change our ways, the resulting plague would certainly end our people. Here is where my foolishness comes to fruition. I believed him. I spoke with my council about changing the way we treated these ones, but those in my council mocked me. It sounded to them like how it would sound to you if I said you needed to treat your pets with the respect you'd give another Human. My council threatened to have me replaced. It would not be the first time that had happened. So, to keep my prominence, I ignored the prophet."

The Knight contemplated what he had heard so far. He knew that the prophets of his town would go on long journeys once a year to carry messages to other nations, but usually they are messages of peace rather than judgement. He chose for now to believe what the King was telling him.

"Before long the prophet came back and announced the judgement upon my nation. He said that a curse was to be placed upon us, namely, that when each individual of the nation felt that they had lost purpose, they would be destroyed immediately. The plague forced upon us was not a physical one, but a mental one. Immediately, all of the older ones we kept in the cells evaporated. Then, over the next hours, those in charge of the older ones evaporated. Then the commanders of those men evaporated, then some parents, some family. It proved to be a sudden sequence of events. We lost a quarter of our people in that first night, and three quarters in one month. I knew I had to come up with a plan. I had to come up with a way that my people would continue to have a purpose forever. I retreated to my chambers for weeks to come up with something. What is a purpose that everyone would live for? After recalling our past, I decided that the answer was war. War is something that everyone fights for, and nobody cares how long it lasts. But I didn't want to declare war with a nation for no reason, my intent is not to harm anyone. So, what could I possibly declare war against, that would not hurt anyone, and we would never win?"

The Knight thought about this question. It was a riddle. If you couldn't declare war against a people, what could you fight? Animals? Some sort of object? And after that, what war would you never win or lose to, no matter how hard you tried? The Knight failed to come up with an answer and responded with a simple, "I cannot think of anything."

"I declared war.... on light. Light is something that will never go away. You may feel like you are fighting it, some light can be removed, but it will never be purged, I understand that. And you would think that I would never be able to assemble a force against light because, well, that doesn't make any sense. But my people are so loyal to me that they would rally together to fight an abstraction. So, when you came over to this valley, and pronounced yourself as a 'knight of justice and a messenger of light', my people labeled you as an enemy to their purpose. That is why you were attacked and that is why I hold nothing against you. That is why my people only show themselves at night. That is why they flee from torches. It's not because they are scary night monsters that only seek death, it's because they are trying to fight something that doesn't make sense."

This was completely understood in the Knight's mind. It made much more sense now why some skeletons attacked, and some watched. It made sense why every thoroughfare in the valley was shaded with giant webs of fabric.

The King raised his arms and took off his crown. "But I feel I have still wronged my people. The lives they live now are not meaningful, just like those whom we neglected. I think it's time to stop trying to fight back against this curse." The King rotated the crown in his hands and wiped some dust off of one of the gems. "Here. Take this. With this, my people will recognize you as their authority. No doubt they have already gathered at the entrance to the throne. Do me a favor." The King takes a moment before saying these words:

 

"Tell them the war is over."

 

With these words having been spoken, the King glances upward. With his message having been shared, he vanishes in front of the Knight's eyes.

Author's Note

Open to criticism.