Kandred stood in the cornfield. He had had woken up, crawled from his bed and stood up. He had blinked and ended up here. What a strange place… And then he saw him. A man of bones and a Cockscomb, the all-too-recognisable clothes and shoes.

Kandred’s head was just high enough to reach above the top of the corn, so he could see the un-living very clearly in the bright light tat the summer weather had brought. He drew his sword, positioning himself for a fight.

Toofy turned to him. He’s noticed me… Crap. Kandred’s hand reached around his body and slid his hand around the Undying’s hilt.

And then Kandred was high in the air, beginning to fall back down, sword drawn and pointed directly at the jester. Blades clashed and corn-tops fell to the ground, the dried leaves rustling in the wind.

Then the silver of Toofy’s whip appeared, swinging around and ripping the surrounding area of corn to shreds. But this time Kandred had expected it. He jumped back, swinging Rezaveron in the direction of the whip. The air around the whip locked, the whip stopping in an instant. Kandred smiled wryly and sent a gust of wind at Toofy, who was sent flying back into the corn.

Toofy leapt up, his Mock Sceptre spinning in his skeletal fingers. The hard of Jaster smashed into Kandred's head. He reeled back, dropping Rezaveron and clutching his head. And then he tripped on a root.

And then Kandred thought he saw the flash of a Jack card as he dived towards Rezaveron. He simply landed on bare dirt and the Blade had gone. Then Toofy came up to him, holding two swords: one his own, the other Rezaveron.

“And now I have you, Kandred. You are unarmed.” Toofy cackled.

“Use me, my powers…”

“You’re wrong, Toofy.” Kandred sprang up, golden energy crackling around his left hand. Wait, I can’t use lightning on him! He can’t feel. In response to his own thoughts, Kandred leapt into Toofy, his hands growing talons, his hair shining a brilliant gold in the sunlight. His wings hacked at Toofy relentlessly, until, finally, Kandred threw Toofy aside. The ex-jester went flying far into the corn, disappearing from sight.

The gleam in his eyes disappeared and the Æthereal wind that had whipped his hair up into a fierce mane died down, his claws retracted and his wings shrunk into his back. How shall I find him now?

“Let him find you. Burn the field.”

“But I don’t have my sword! Without it flame is not my servant.”

“Lightning.”

Kandred smiled, laughing maniacally. His arm extended towards the heavens, and the clouds gathered, chokingly black now, and smothered the sun. Thunder shook the air and ground, and golden lightning surged down from the sky, unleashing its terror upon the corn.

Within seconds the field was ablaze, and both Kandred and Drakduroth cackled like madmen.

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