Chapter 3: Defying Witchery

Even though Loudmouth wished his Friends would stay more than anything he’d ever wished, he understood that they couldn’t, not if they were to defeat the evil Peilor. And so, despite the pain in his heroic heart, he offered to help in any way he could.

As it turned out, there was one last hurdle to clear before they could go. They needed a sixth human, so they could leave in pairs. Unfortunately, all of the other humans had already paired up, and there were none left for Friend Jacob to exit with.

Loudmouth considered the conundrum long and hard, before coming up with a truly brilliant solution. “If Friends need human, just steal one!” he croaked triumphantly.

Awed by his supreme wisdom, his Friends immediately set out to do just that, and under Loudmouth’s lead, they set out for the island of the terrifying Lightning Witch.

Friend Emma and Friend Jacob snuck unto the island to grab Mark, who easily fell prey to Friend Emma’s manipulations, like a complete schmuck. Unfortunately, before they could get away, a flood of Hoig sent by the Grand Chief attacked the island!

As they were running for their lives, things went from bad to worse. The Lightning Witch awoke, and took to the Aether with her mysterious ability of flight, launching lightning bolt after lightning bolt at Loudmouth’s intrepid Friends.

Naturally, Loudmouth wouldn’t stand for this. He raised his mighty voice, and called forth his trusty steed, Elizabeth. The massive jetray he’d tamed on one of his infamous adventures carried him into the Aether on her jets, where he fought the horrible Lightning Witch one-on-one!

In the end, he managed to drive her off, providing his Friends with all the time they needed to escape to the doors. They met up there, on the thin stroke of beach. Loudmouth majestically rose up out of the Hydrum on Elizabeth’s back and was met with thunderous applause from his Friends.

It was then and there, that Loudmouth was officially inducted into the Blue Dragons, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly fulfilled. Of course, he soon turned morose again, as it was now time to say goodbye.

They stood for a while there, speaking to one another with heartfelt words, and promising to meet again in the future. With manly tears in the corners of his eyes, Loudmouth watched his Friends—and that schmuck, Mark—exit through the doors.

He returned to the now truly empty village, with only his beloved steed to accompany him, and wandered around for a bit. He looked at the flag Friend Alec had produced, and the painting he’d made in Loudmouth’s honour. It showed the heroic Hoig as the main head of a mighty hydra, which is like a dirak but way cooler because it has multiple heads which can each breathe out a different kind of energy.

Loudmouth spent several days wallowing in his melancholy, hanging out with Elizabeth, and carving notches in the wall to keep count of the passing days.

Then, one day, everything changed. The last pair of humans had passed through one of the doors, and the cruel truth of the area between the Six Great Walls was revealed.

All along, it had been meant only as a test for the humans. Loudmouth, Chief Deathglare, Elizabeth, even the hallid, they had all been placed there only as obstacles and resources. Loudmouth’s entire life... was a lie.

In truth, he only found out the full magnitude of the deception much later, but that day the illusion was shattered, as large trigots and other creatures he’d never seen before descended from above, flying around like it was nothing, tell-tale crystals glittering on their foreheads.

They started tearing down damaged buildings in the village as if they had the Toughness of jicca nuts, replacing them with new ones that seemed to appear from thin Aether. In the distance, the broken rubble of the tower Loudmouth had shattered with his voice was floating upwards and reassembling, undoing the damage he’d wrought in mere minutes.

Loudmouth watched all of this from a strategic viewpoint, expertly concealed by foliage, but when he saw them lift the entire rock Friend Alec had painted his likeness on, he could no longer just watch.

With his blood boiling in his veins, he hopped out. “Put down painting of hydra this instant!” he croaked. “Is Loudmouth’s precious—aack!”

In lieu of an answer, a wave of Cold washed over him. Fully encased in a block of Boreum, our hero could do naught but blink as the true masters of the Realm stole his Friends' artefacts, and rebuilt the set of their show. Soon enough, he could feel himself get lifted up as well, but it was around that time his consciousness faded to black, plunging him in sugary, sugary oblivion.

When he came to, Loudmouth found himself in a completely unfamiliar location. He was standing in a transparent tube in a small but clean room. It opened up and he shakily hopped out, only to come face to face with a floating yellow Crystal.

Despite never having seen this crystal before, Loudmouth somehow knew that it was his master, and that he would do anything it ordered him to.

That thought should really have been a scary one, but somehow he felt completely at ease with it, which just shows how terrifying the control of the Peilor can be.

The yellow crystal introduced itself as Mister Lyrack, and somehow nestled itself into Loudmouth’s forehead like his flesh had been made for it. But this too, felt completely normal to Loudmouth somehow.

Mister Lyrack had explained he’d practically bankrupted himself to purchase Loudmouth, and he really hoped our hero would be worth the risk he’d taken.

Well, that was a given, of course.

Still, the first time Loudmouth had to get up on stage with Lyrack had not gone great. He did his best to read the jokes out loud the way Mister Lyrack had made him practise, but for some reason, his delivery didn’t quite land. In the end, they were booed off the stage at the Cracked Joke, but not before they’d at least received some honeycomb yams from kind audience members who must’ve thought Loudmouth was just hungry. Though they needn’t have launched them at such speeds.

Poor Mister Lyrack couldn’t even eat them, so Loudmouth got to devour them all, and most of them were still quite yummy.

Loudmouth and Mister Lyrack kept trying, rehearsing different kinds of jokes with different kinds of delivery, but whatever they did, they ended up receiving yams and boos.

Eventually, Mister Lyrack became... less than happy.

“Ehm, Mister Lyrack,” Loudmouth asked before the show one fateful night. “Shouldn’t Loudmouth practise the jokes?”

“Hmm?” Mister Lyrack chimes. “Oh... why bother? They’re going to hate it anyway... They hate me. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? They’re not laughing to me, they’re laughing at me! Perhaps... they always have.”

“Now now, Mister Lyrack,” Loudmouth croaked uncomfortably. He really didn’t want to give up his free yams. “Loudmouth sure today it’ll work.”

Lyrack let out a sigh as he floated up from the dresser and slotted himself into Loudmouth’s forehead. “At least someone still believes in me. Just... take the damn jokes I guess, I don’t care anymore.”

Loudmouth carefully picked up the thin sheet of Greysteel that Lyrack had been listlessly revising over the last hour. He hadn’t actually gotten a look at them yet at all, but just as he was about to peek, the crystal over the door lit up cyan.

“That’s our cue,” Mister Lyrack chimes morosely. “Well, go on then, get out there.”

As Loudmouth hopped onto the stage, he was more nervous than usual, for some reason, and Mister Lyrack didn’t say any encouraging words like he usually did. Still the promise of sweet honeycomb yams that Loudmouth saw some of the audience members already grabbing was too enticing, so he bravely hopped to the centre of the stage and grabbed the microphone.

“Ehm, how’s everybody doing tonight?” he croaked cheerfully.

The room stayed silent.

“Ah, okay then,” Loudmouth said, nodding understandably. He was feeling a little unmoored, not having practised, so in a spur-of-the-moment decision he added, “No worry; Loudmouth just here for the yams.”

Something strange happened at that moment, something that had rarely happened at all in all the time Loudmouth had been on stage.

There was a split-second of silence, and then... laughter. Kind of grudging laughter, but still. It was odd. Loudmouth was so surprised that he fell silent for a moment, but then quickly rallied. The yams wouldn’t earn themselves, after all.

“So, first joke, ehm, let’s see. ‘Why are Hoig rarely angry?’ Is true, Loudmouth rarely angry. Answer is: ‘They eat whatever bugs them.’ Huh. Loudmouth doesn’t get it, would much rather eat yams...”

For some reason, people started laughing again, and to Loudmouth's consternation, he saw some people start to put away their yams. “Aack, stop laughing, Loudmouth wants yams!” he croaked in a panic, which just set the audience off harder.

For the first time ever, he got to finish the entire list of jokes, never receiving a single yam in the process. However, something funny happened when he announced he was out of jokes and fell silent. All of the creatures in the room started stomping, as the Peilor started making this weird snapping noise.

He'd heard this come from the room after other comedians performed, but never he and Mister Lyrack. And then, at long last, the first yam was thrown. At this point, Loudmouth was so hungry, he shot out his tongue and snatched it from mid-Aether. The stomping and cheering grew louder, and the yams continued to rain down after that, and he had to scramble to collect them all.

He left the stage with his arms full of yams, and his head full of questions, but Mister Lyrack didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“Loudmouth, you’re a genius!” he chimed, sounding happier than Loudmouth had perhaps ever heard him.

He blinked, then puffed up his chest. “Well duh,” he croaked, in the famous words of Friend Jacob. “Loudmouth very genius. Really deserves more snacks, if you think about it...”

“Oh, you sure do, my friend, you sure do,” Lyrack chimed. “I have a feeling this is the start of a wonderful, wonderful partnership.”

Author's note:

Thanks for reading! ^^