A new player, an impossible decision, a final confrontation...
Summary[]
Arthur and John enter the city and find it deserted, the population having been slaughtered by an entity that calls himself Kayne. Kayne is intrigued by the situation and gives Arthur a dagger to use at the right time. Arthur and John face the King in Yellow on the plateau. The King attempts to emotionally manipulate Arthur into letting John go. When that fails, the King resorts to torture. In his desperation, Arthur sees no other way than to sacrifice himself to prevent the King from winning. John rejoins the King to save Arthur, who is returned to his world still injured.
Synopsis[]
After finding and retrieving his daughter’s music box from the trader, Arthur enters the city. The streets are deserted; as they travel deeper, they find damaged buildings. They find the inhabitants of the city torn apart with apparent cruel violence, as if their entrails were played with. Hearing music, Arthur follows it into an amphitheater.
A bloody man in a black suit and no shoes is sitting at the piano, playing Faroe's Song. He evades the question when Arthur asks who he is (answering only 'a friend, the only friend you have right now'), though he seems aware of everything that has happened to Arthur and John so far. The stranger is also able to hear John. Demanding the music box, Arthur hands it over and is indignant that the man gets blood on it. The stranger also admits he killed the residents because he was bored, and that the music box was only a lure. Arthur and John have caught his interest, he says, because the King in Yellow is tearing worlds apart to find a way to break Arthur -- but, ultimately, the stranger doesn't care what the outcome is. He claims his interest in Arthur: how Arthur could be so special that he could survive being bound to John, when everyone else would have died. Arthur suggests that it is because he presents the best and worst humanity has to offer. The stranger disagrees.
Arthur asks if the stranger can see the future; to that, the stranger says that the King will win. He gives them a dagger tells Arthur: “But when all is said and done, you can always flip a coin.” He gives his name as Kayne before he disappears.
Arthur and John debate what to do next and settle on going deeper into the city. They find Lilly, who is wounded and suffering. With a heavy heart, they end Lilly's life with a dagger. They give Lilly a brief funeral, with Arthur reciting the eulogy that John gives. John cries tears out of Arthur's eyes.
They decide to face the King in Yellow, further on the plateau. On the way up, Arthur reveals that he used art as an outlet for his grief after his parents' suicide -- which ultimately lead to him picking up music. He recites a poem that he wrote after his parents' death for John.
On the plateau, the stairs vanish behind them and the King’s dancers appear. One of them cuts Arthur before the King himself arrives. The King blocks John out, leaving Arthur and the King alone. He tells Arthur that John wants to be free, but Arthur disagrees. The King notes how attached Arthur is to John despite his betrayals and harsh words, concluding that Arthur loves him. Arthur admits that he can’t lose anyone else; in rebuttal, King says that death surrounds Arthur. The King emphasizes that he is alone and that John doesn’t care about him, citing Parker's and Emily's murder as proof of his monstrosity. Arthur counters that John means something to him and that he believes that people can change.
After being refused, the King begins to break Arthur's legs so that Arthur will set John free. John asks the King to stop and wants to know what will happen if he leaves the body willingly. His terms are for Arthur to be returned home and left in peace. Before John can leave, Arthur pulls out the dagger and, determined to not let the King win, slits his throat. Pleading for the King to save him, John leaves Arthur and the King dumps Arthur back into his world, still bleeding.
Votes[]
- Chapter 96: "Why are you so different, Arthur? No wrong answers here!" [write-in]
- Top-voted comment: You're asking the wrong question; the thing that makes Arthur special is not what saved him. The reason Arthur survived upon opening the book is us. His gut feeling, his spiritual advisors; just like John protected his sanity simply by being there, so did we. We're invested in his survival (well, most of us), and we're nudging him to make the decisions that will protect him and John. But the reason Arthur is special? It's that he's so very human. His stubbornness, his compassion, his unthinkable mistakes. We can only nudge, make the big decisions—Arthur makes decisions every moment of his life by virtue of being human. We didn’t make Arthur who he is, and we didn’t keep him sane. If Arthur gave up, if Arthur wasn’t Arthur, there’d be nothing we could do. If Arthur hadn’t been so stubbornly, beautifully human, then a fragment of a god would never have realized all he could be. He would have no desire to stay separate from his other half, to protect the meat suit he was walking around in. So that’s my answer, as one of those advisors. But we can't put the words into Arthur's mouth, because we don't control him. We can only try to understand him from what little we've seen of his life, and try to protect him because we've come to care for him too. Let Arthur answer.
- Chapter 97: Head Back Toward the Gate [8] / Head Deeper Into the City [12]
- Chapter 98: Kill Lilly [22] / Leave Lilly Alone to Die Slowly [3]
- Chapter 99: Arthur [23] / John [23]
- Chapter 100: No vote.
Additional Notes[]
- When listing all the items in Arthur’s possession, Kayne doesn’t mention the lighter.
- Arthur recites a poem to John that he wrote after his parents' suicide:
I don't recall how we met
As I was far too young.
I knew you not as you are now,
For you were the sun,
An always-present warmth and glow,
A light that's always there
To wipe the tears from my eyes,
To brush my matted hair.
And I would lie if I did not say our relationship was pure.
I am young, a cause of grief; of this I am quite sure.
Despite all, I'd be remiss to say there was no love—
A calmness, a careful word, a nudge, not a shove.
There were nights I recall needing you the most;
I'd crawl from bed and walk to you,
And you would hold me close.
Between the love of both of you to ease my sleeping strife,
I never felt so safe, and yet so cold, in all my life.
I too recall a time when I was trying to impress
A goofy boy named "Arthur," dressed up in his mother's best.
It was only Dad who laughed with me as Mother, you withdrew,
But when he joined in dressing up, you cried with laughter, too.
And there was the time we all found ourselves stuck in the rain,
And Mother had her gown nearly soaked, and Dad was much the same.
And though we all were miserable, Mother found us a spot of dry,
In which we all ate a pretend meal: jelly and sea pie.
And now you're gone, and I can't explain the loss that lingers here—
The size of a young boy's parents that he wishes could be near.
And there are nights where he needs you, and he still crawls out of bed
And walks toward your bedroom door before recalling that you're dead.
And I want someone to tell that boy to swallow all the hate,
That nothing he could have said would have changed his parents' fate.
And I want that someone to be you as I write this; but alas,
This pain will linger with me still,
And I pray this too shall pass.