The yellowed manuscript crumpled in Lizardly’s fingers. “Oh, shit. I wasn’t supposed to touch it, was I?”
Redstaff stared down at the lizardman shaman’s rainbow striped face. “A question.”
Lizardly gave his best puppy dog face. Or baby lizard face, whichever was cuter. “Yes?”
“How many times did I tell you not to touch the Scroll of Nine Lives?”
Lizardly shrugged. “Three?”
“Yes. And how long did it take to explain how important this was?”
Lizardly paused and put his claw to his mouth. “Three?”
“Three what?” Redstaff leaned in, rapping the crystal of his staff on the lizardman’s snout.
Redstaff smirked. “Yes, three hours. Three different times. Remember? We were in my tower. I clearly explained to you that if you touch it, it will not only dissolve, but it will turn the entire vicinity–“
“Yellow?” Lizardly said as his lips began to turn yellow.
“Yes.” Redstaff’s eyes went to his palms as the yellow began to spread. “Oh hell. It’s starting already.”
“How do we escape the yellow?” Lizardly asked.
“We don’t. We just let it consume us.”
“Will we die?”
“No, but everything in a ten mile radius will be yellow. No more blue sky, no more green grass, no more yellow sun–wait, no that will still be yellow. I guess. Not sure what happens to things that are already yellow.”
“Like your teeth?” Lizardly pointed.
Redstaff covered his mouth. “My teeth aren’t yellow. Well, they are now, but they weren’t just a couple of seconds ago.”
“Yes, they were. You smoke quite a bit. And you drink coffee. And you chew on sticks of butter sometimes.”
Redstaff, flustered, waved it off. “Do not.”
“Anyway, I guess we should be getting back to White Scar now.”
“Well, it’ll be Yellow Scar now.”
Lizardly snorted. “Oh, I get it.”
“No, you don’t.” Redstaff sighed.
As the yellow all spread throughout the land, the Golden Horror Rizakeil’s razor sharp teeth gleamed beyond the tall, yellow grass. “Now I can finally kill without being noticed. The time has come for me to–“
“Look Mommy, the Golden Horror Rizakeil,” a small boy said as he passed.
“You can see me still?” Rizakeil’s scaled head bobbed to and fro.
The yellow haired, yellow tinged boy nodded. “Yes, and you’re as shiny as ever.”
Rizakeil frowned, his snaking body darting out of the grass. “Damnit! It’s not fair!”
The bard Lummy wrote a poem about the spreading yellow:
Yellow yellow yellow in the yellow
It won several awards.
And when night fell, there was no darkness, only yellow.