Chapter 55: Genuine fear

Chapter 55: Genuine fear

(Arthur POV)

We've taken over a tavern in Horn Village, just outside Grass City, rebranding it as the "Prancing Pony" for our shoot. The air's thick with anticipation as we prep for the ring scene.

"Remember, the ring needs to levitate just enough to land on Kurt's finger," I remind the effects team. "It's got to look accidental, but deliberate. You know what I mean?"

Mochi, one of the crew members I rehired, nods confidently. "We've got the trajectory down pat, boss. It'll slip onto Kurt's finger like it's got a mind of its own."

I can't help but feel a bit glad. Bringing these grads back was a smart move. Their mix of magical know-how and technical skills is proving invaluable.

"Good. We're shooting this in slow motion, so you'll need to control Kurt's fall too. Make it look dramatic."

"Got it, boss," the team choruses.

As everyone takes their positions, I feel myself slipping into character. The acting skills from the system skills shop are kicking in, but there's something else too. Playing Aragorn... it's hitting close to home.

An exiled prince, carrying the weight of a legacy he's not sure he wants. The parallels aren't lost on me. I draw on my own experiences - the feeling of being an outsider in my own family, the struggle to prove myself. But there's also a determination there, a resolve to forge my own path.

As I settle into Aragorn's skin, I feel a strange mix of vulnerability and strength.

"Ready when you are, boss," my AD calls.

I take a deep breath, centering myself. "Action!"

At my signal, the set springs to life. The extras settle into their roles, while the actual tavern regulars just... well, continue being themselves. Sometimes, reality is the best acting coach.

I hunker down in my corner, deliberately making myself stand out by trying not to. It's a delicate balance, being conspicuously inconspicuous.

This version of Aragorn is a bit different from the original. He's half-demon, half-human, still heir to Isildur, but with an added layer of complexity. The Dunedain, his people, aren't exactly rolling out the red carpet for him. It's a wrinkle that adds some spice to the character.

Kurt, in his role as Frodo, catches sight of me. He does a decent job of looking unnerved by the demon in the corner. As he leans in to question the waiter about me, I fix my gaze on him.

In that moment, I'm not seeing Kurt the actor anymore. I'm Aragorn, sizing up Frodo, the unexpected bearer of the One Ring. There's a weight to this interaction that goes beyond the script. It's the meeting of two outcasts, each carrying a burden they never asked for.

We try again. And again. And again. But it's not working. How am I supposed to be terrified of a simple gold band?

After the fifth take, Arthur's expression changes. "Alright, I've got an idea to help you out."

Before I can ask what he means, we're rolling again. I brace myself, trying to summon some fear for the camera.

Suddenly, a wave of terror washes over me. It's visceral, primal - like every nightmare I've ever had rolled into one. My eyes widen, my breath catches in my throat. With trembling hands, I yank the ring off my finger.

As quickly as it came, the feeling fades. I'm left gasping, confused and shaken.

What just happened?

***

(Arthur POV)

It worked like a charm.

Watching Kurt yank off the ring, his face a mask of genuine terror, I can't help but chuckle to myself. The Nether Surge spell did its job beautifully, even if this wasn't its primary function.

The spell's main purpose is to amplify magical power and mana, but its side effect of instilling fear in others is proving quite useful. All it took was a few muttered words, directing the spell's energy towards Kurt, and boom - instant terror, picture-perfect for the camera.

During the review, the crew and cast are falling over themselves praising Kurt's "acting." I don't bother correcting them. Sometimes, what they don't know won't hurt them.

As we wrap up the scene where Aragorn reprimands Frodo, Kurt approaches me, his face a mix of confusion and suspicion.

"Boss, I felt... terrified earlier," he says, eyeing the prop ring warily. "Did this thing do something?"

I plaster on a reassuring smile, patting his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Let's focus on the next scene, shall we?"

But I can see it in his eyes - he's not buying it. That look screams "I know you know something."

Well, can't be helped. As long as we get the shots we need, a little mystery won't hurt anyone. Besides, what's a fantasy epic without some real magic behind the scenes?