Alan let go of the gryphon’s talon, rehashing the horribly close calls. He could’ve lost Yogi forever if he hadn’t been able to unsummon him. Gardstrife truly was a heroic guardian. And he was pretty sure Afarus was on his side at this point.

And after all that, he’d gained a rare variant minion and a giant mountain of multi-colored rock to invoke a soul into, both coined in his bag. Now, beat up and completely depleted, all he had to do was make it out of this nest without getting torn up.

He touched ground to rows of caws from the roused gryphons sitting in wide, sticky nests all around him. Their eagle heads perked up upon noticing a very foreign creature in their sparkling golden smoke. When Alan rose to full height, the glittery fog whooshed away—he assumed from defeating the Hendra.

The gryphon who dropped Alan made one long rotation around the roost before swooping down mere feet away from him.

Hmm. He pressed his hand to the ground, slowly releasing faint Blue Saro to show he was not a threat. Caws still sounded like caws, unfortunately, so he had to hope the feathers Elkire gave him would be enough.

To his surprise, before he could dig into his bag and pluck them out, the gryphons flapped out of their nests and began bowing one by one.

Alan tilted his head. “What’s this?”

“I’d assume you’ve already earned their respect, lad.” Durger formed from the Soul Collector and crouched to one of them, offering his hand.

Alan’s eyes widened when it pushed its head lovingly into his palm like a cat. Even in shadow, Durger was beloved. He sighed with relief, hoping at least one encounter today didn’t have to be contentious.

“Alright then.” He pulled the feathers out and lifted them high so all the gryphons could see, or sense, or however they acknowledged, then bowed all the way to the ground in respect for their fallen. “Rider Irana and Nulge have lost their beloved mounts in a tragic event. I come to mourn the two gryphons, Seafire and Yala, and request two others to honor the riders again, and a third, for me.”

Alan peeked to see what was going on. Still, their heads remained bowed, and smoky Durger on one knee in prayer. Alan didn’t dare disrupt the ritual. He took a moment to reflect on how far he’d come. The roost smelled just like the stable, reminding him of his time with the Legion. That thought tumbled back to his old group: Flint and Neesha. Good people he wanted badly to see again.

Soon, a warm, comforting sensation wrapped him like a blanket, making his bruises a little less painful. He raised his head in wonder. All gryphon eyes were on him. Predatory in nature, yet accepting somehow.

“This is good, Sir Alan. They recognize you.” Durger smiled with his hands on his hips.

The main gryphon that saved him stalked over, inspecting the feathers, then gently picked them up with its mouth. With one flap, it flew to the center of one of the larger nests and placed the feathers down.

Kaw!

Kaw! the others responded, and with another flap the main gryphon landed in front of Alan again. Gold feathers, strong lion legs, and an eagle’s white mane with slicked-back fur made it look majestic up close. Two other darker colored gryphons walked up closely to flank him. In unison, the three of them bowed.

“They’re acknowledging your request, lad. Pet ’em!”

Alan tentatively did as Durger suggested, another warming glow emanated from his skin. There was a connection between them, a mutual respect and sense of grace. “So you’ll ride with Irana and Nulge again?” he asked.

The two darker gryphons raised their heads majestically, reminding him of Elkire’s posture.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Alan smiled, then turned to Durger. “Which soul did you say was a Dreamcatcher in his past life?”

“Trio Doden. Careful though, he’s half mad,” Durger said.

“Ugh. Any fully sane casters in there?”

“At this point? Probably not. They’ve all resided in there too long.”

“Great. Well, do you think he can still create a communication portal?” Alan asked.

“I don’t see why not. It’s very basic magic for a catcher or a Wizard. I’d say Trio is your best bet.”

“Fine.” Alan concentrated hard on the souls within his blade, sending Durger back and sifting through the different swooshing essences. He lingered on each until they materialized into tangible shapes, trying to find the one with a net on his back.

The big guy with the oversized shield again, the seductive woman with scant armor, a Wizard with his hat pulled completely over his face—ah, finally, a hunched chubby man with a net on his back.

“Come on out, Trio.” Alan opened his eyes and held his blade away from the gryphons.

“Hm. Hm.” The man looked around at all the beasts suspiciously. “Am I in a zoo? Sheesh.”

Alan whacked him on the shoulder. “Some respect, please.”

“Bah!” He stumbled, belly jiggling. “You are an odd duck, you know that? I mean really, what type of Black Saro wielding warrior takes his souls out for walks, hm?”

Alan sighed. “Can you make a communication portal, please?”

“Sure. Hand me some of that dank Saro. Gimme. Gimme.” He motioned with his square fingers.

“What color?”

“Oh god, it’s been so long… I’m a Blue-y.”

Alan flicked his wrist, cycling Blue around the Dreamcatcher’s arms.

“Ahh, that feels nice. Like a hot bath.” Trio took out his net and started waving it around haphazardly, making the gryphons uneasily adjust their wings.

“Chill!” Alan caught the stick.

“Oh, sorry. Forgot we’re your pets.”

Heat filled Alan’s cheeks. “You’re free to go at any time. Just tell me how and I’ll release you.”

Trio stiffened. “Wh—what? No.” He waved his hands back and forth. “I was just kidding.”

Alan furrowed his brow.

“No one knows what happens after a captured soul is released. I was just kidding, guy. Don’t send me out there. It’s not so bad in the blade once you get used to it.”

“Trio. I need to be on my way,” Alan said through gritted teeth.

“Right, right.” He stood back and held up his hands to show Alan and the gryphons that he meant no harm, then swung his net in a wide circle. “The name and home of your recipient.”

“Madam Mardonnus of Hightower Brack,” Alan said. “She’s a tower-watcher, if that helps.”

“It does. It does. You’re bringing back fond memories of old roads traveled. Hm.” Trio shut his eyes to concentrate, a lazy portal forming with faded visions inside. “Hm. Seems you’ve made quite a name for yourself already. Many whispers of the Merchant who wields Yineera’s Peg and who bested a watcher. Hm. Yes.”

Alan folded his arms, waiting patiently for him to get on with it.

“Ah, here we are. Short woman doused in unkempt robes?”

“Yes.” Alan perked up upon seeing the back of Madam Mar’s head.

She turned and squinted into the portal. “Alan!”

“Madam! Greetings from the nest.”

“Yes, I can see that. You made it!”

“Yeah, but I had to take the hard way. The cliff Elkire pointed me to was blocked with a river of mourning red.”

“What!” She jumped in place, which made Alan jump in place. “You’re not suggesting you passed…”

“The geyser? Yeah, we got through it.”

“Alan. That’s impossible. The entire Legion attempted that once—escaping with many broken bones and some near death.”

“Same here.” He spread his arms. “But we made it.”

She gritted her teeth. “What variant fog did you suffer?”

“Um, yellowish gold, apocalypse orange, and a tint of crimson.”

“By Junos and all of his grace! No wonder all the gryphons are bowing for you. I offer a grand bow myself.”

Alan felt a surge of reassurance at Madam’s reaction. He made the right call, standing against what everyone feared. Sure, one millisecond would’ve decided the fight the other way, but still. He made it.

“Thanks, Madam.” He smiled.

“Now I don’t feel so sore about being bested amongst the towers.” She chuckled. “So, what can I do you for?”

“A portal on the outskirts of Gauruck, if you can. I will send these two beautiful creatures your way, as my first step in repaying the Legion.”

“It will be done, Alan. I will grant them a magical tether toward the location. What about the third pack leader queen staring at you?”

Alan turned to his new mount. “She’ll be with me.”

“Fitting. And a true honor amongst the roost. A little tip—her name is Ria, and she has no fear.”

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“I already knew that second part.”

“Hah. Yes, well. Send them my way, good Alan.”

“Thanks, Madam. Hope to see you soon.”

The portal closed with a shloop, leaving pudgy Trio standing there with both hands on the base of his net.

“Satisfied? May I go back to my gilded cage now? I was in the middle of an argument with Thoreesa.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Go ahead, Trio. Thanks for the port.”

“Hm. Hm. Anytime!” He clapped his hands and did an odd shimmy before zooming back into the blade.

Bunch of freakin’ characters in there once you get to know them.

Alan guided the two dark gryphons toward the northwestern edge of the roost and pointed them in the direction of Mar’s tether. They bowed for a pet each—which Alan gladly gave—then respectfully made some space to spread their wings. With a caw, they were off, soaring down toward the geyser from which Alan came.

Ria then walked up to Alan and nudged him lightly. When she did, that familiar metaphorical blanket wrapped around him. She was a soothing yet powerful presence, one that Alan looked forward to having around.

“So you’re with me now, huh?” He petted her gingerly. “Do you prefer to be coined?”

Kaw!

Alan jumped in place, taking that as a hard no. “Alright! Didn’t mean to offend.” He rolled out his map, tracing the path toward Yogi’s domain. It felt good to gain some momentum in the “paying people back” department, and he didn’t plan on stopping now.

Durger materialized from the sword. “Careful in flight, Sir Alan. You’ll want to keep low altitude so as not to alert Helldraken or any other high-powered beasts… unless you’re hunting them, of course.”

“Of course.” Alan pretended he knew. “Anything else?”

“Beware of fog, obviously. Pull up if it gets too thick. I can’t tell you how many times we had to detour because a party member got swiped out of the sky.”

Alan nodded, biting his lip. “Duly noted.”

“And that’s it. Hold on tight, my friend.” Durger dropped a big hand on Alan’s shoulder before zooming back into the blade.

“Okay.” Alan eyed the bird-lion. “Never did this before, Ria. Go easy on me.”

Kaw, she said delicately, and Alan hopped onto her back.

They both adjusted themselves for a good ten seconds.

Kaw!

Ria spread her wings, which gave Alan immediate weakness in his belly. He kept telling himself he’d survived the crimson fog, he could get through a proper flight. But as soon as she stepped to the edge, Alan tensed hard. No saddle, no ropes. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Too late.

She leapt, and the wind hit Alan’s face like a pie. The trees down below zoomed fast into view, reminding Alan of falling in Strangey Town. Only this time, he could trust his companion.

“Woo!” he yelled, hanging onto surprisingly strong feathery fur.

Quick tilts to the left made Alan grimace as he locked his heels around Ria’s torso, shifting his weight to stay alive. “Haha!” he cheered again.

They drifted north, toward Fistel’s Valley: Yogi’s final destination. They skated the bluish-gray fog the entire way, staying out of high altitude as Durger had warned. And as the smoke dissipated to a snowy tundra far below, Alan felt a pang of sadness.

He didn’t want to lose the Borai just like he didn’t want to lose Durger back in the forbidden shops. They’d bonded over this crazy journey. They were friends. But that didn’t change the facts—he’d made a promise to the big bear who protected him. It was Alan’s turn to come through. So that’s what he was going to do.

Another hour of flight made Alan realize how long the trip would’ve taken on foot. Tranches of black smoke, deep blue, hard purple… it would’ve been the trek of mayhem. One big boss fight earned him the respect to skip all that, thanks to the powerful bird baring the cold.

Alan pulled out his map and saw the valley was coming up. An ice pond where the ancestors of the Borai were laid to rest. He tugged on Ria to bring him down, the feeling of in-flight descent giving Alan flutters. With a final swoop of her wings, Alan was on the ground.

He patted the gryphon twice. “So if I can’t coin you, how do I find you again?”

The creature jerked its head, looking Alan in the eye, then lifted its wing to reveal a loose golden feather.

“A sign of great respect.” Durger’s face materialized from the sword. “It wants you to be a home landing, which are tethered to their shed feathers. You’re like a nest, Alan!”

“Hope I don’t stink like one.”

Kaw!

“I’m just kidding.” Alan laughed nervously, then reached for the resplendent feather. “Thanks, queen. See you soon?”

Kaw.

Ria kicked off into flight, soaring out of the cold to leave Alan with his thoughts. He suppressed the Soul Collector as the gales bit at his face. This was a sad moment. Holding his palm out, he called forth a ball of Orange Saro to warm his skin, then dug through his bag for a particular coin.

He turned it in his hand, noting the streaks and tarnishes had vanished—which meant Yogi was fully healed. Good. Then he wouldn’t feel so bad calling him out so soon.

Ting!

Two monstrous paws shook the ground and sent snow flying everywhere.

“Noble Alan! Is there more danger so soon?” Yogi flexed and bared his fangs. Then almost immediately, his face sunk in shock. “By the mountaintops of Shree.”

The giant bear got to all fours and ran ahead to the ice pond in the distance, unable to contain himself. Alan summoned Voltair and galloped on after him. He couldn’t tell what Yogi was interacting with at first, but the closer he got, the clearer the ethereal figures became.

Ghostly Borai held blue flames as they paced around the sacred frozen pond.

“Beneath the pond she shivers. In each cove she withers. Balooma the warm. Dun da-dun,” each of the ghostly Borai chanted.

Alan coined Voltair so not to disturb them, compelled to approach the ice to be closer to Yogi. He didn’t want the big bear to leave without saying goodbye. That would break him.

“Ah!”

One of the Borai yanked Alan by the shoulders and dropped him in front, replacing his orange flame with a blue one. When Alan peered up over his shoulder, the Borai pushed him on.

“Beneath the pond she shivers. In each cove she withers. Balooma the warm. Dun da-dun.”

Not wanting to offend, Alan whispered the words, glancing over at Yogi tearing up in the center.

“She gives her fur to young, shields them all from sun. She mixes and melds and rings the bells until the dream has come. Balooma the warm.”

“Dun da… da-dun. Until the dream has come.” Alan started to get the hang of it on his second go around. The rhythm was rather calming. What’s more, he felt like he was contributing to Yogi’s reunion. When the big bear hugged a similar Borai with a slashed ear, Alan imagined him as one of his brothers. Then, all of a sudden, the Borai Yogi was hugging faded to naught and a bloop sounded beneath the ice.

Yogi sniffed and straightened, gazing at his brothers and sisters pacing for their mother. His eyes dropped to Alan.

“Noble Alan! You walk for Mother?”

Alan nodded. “As long as I’m doing the right thing. She gives her fur to young…”

Yogi smiled warmly, his deathly Black Saro armor no longer seeming so threatening. “You honor me so. I am proud to call you… friend of the Borai.”

Another metaphorical blanket draped over Alan. Twice in a day. First the gryphons, now the Borai. He was scoring points since screwing up colossally with Lucius on his tail. It felt good.

“Dun da-dun da-dun.” The ghostly Borai stopped in unison, making Alan halt a half-step off time. All faced toward the center, to Yogi.

What’s happening?

A shadow formed beneath the pond—begging Yogi to take a few steps back—and out emerged a tall, thin female Borai with patches of fur missing throughout her body. She was a head taller than Yogi and all the others, wearing the most pleasant expression.

“Mother Balooma.” The others bowed, offering their blue flames over their heads.

Alan quickly did the same.

“A son long-lost.” Balooma cupped Yogi’s face. “Trapped by a minion of the dark god, used as a weapon to evoke fear. Jaeger strips the Borai of our honor. Yet you have returned. How?”

“A Merchant, Mother. A Merchant and so much more. Alan the noble.” Yogi turned to present him. Alan only peeked out of one eye, not daring to move unless called upon.

“Hm? A warrior? Impossible.”

“I swear it on my honor as a Borai.” Yogi touched claw to chest.

Balooma gently got to all fours and paced toward Alan. “I see. A warrior unbound by singular magic.” She leaned forward, sniffing. Black pearly eyes and curly white fur made Alan think of a big white teddy bear from his childhood.

“Rise, Alan, if you please.”

Alan gently placed the blue flame on the ice beside him and did as he was told, careful not to embarrass Yogi in any way. This was obviously a big moment for him.

“In all the years Borai fought as honored elite Minions of Ojin, never once has a captured soul been returned to its rightful plain.” She rose to bow on one knee.

“I made Yogi a deal. We started off at odds, but he kept his part of the bargain, so it was only fair I keep mine.”

She nodded. “So you can trade with minions.”

“I can trade with anything.” Alan shrugged. “It’s my gift, I guess.”

“That is not your only gift if you can get a fearless warrior such as Yogi-Shontier to deem you noble. Look at him. He beams for you.”

“And I him, Mother Balooma. I consider him a dear friend.” Alan bowed. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“I can tell. Do you know what I am, noble Alan?” she asked.

“I can only guess by the chants that you are the mother of all Borai,” Alan guessed.

“That is true. I am also a Deenom.”

Flashbacks of Afarus speaking about how he bested a Deenom to earn his own realm replayed in Alan’s mind. They were powerful creatures.

Alan didn’t really know what to do with that information, so he bowed again, which made her chuckle.

“This is indeed a special occasion. You have freed a great soul, unlocking a piece of my heart from eternal torment. There are more like Yogi—trapped. Many more. But today it hurts a little less.”

“I’m glad to be part of something good.” Alan smiled. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

She rested her arms over her knee, eyes glinting. “I am sorry to say your path is shrouded with contention, but through this interaction, I can say with certainty—your heart is well.”

“Mother Balooma.”

“Yes, Yogi.”

“I am filled with joy to be reunited with my kin, with you, and am eternally grateful for your warm embrace.”

“I know all this, my son. Speak your mind.”

Yogi stood straight and walked behind Alan, the flames dancing from his movements. “I seek to continue my journey alongside noble Alan and see him through to greatness.”

Silence came between them, and Alan’s heart nearly melted in his chest.

“He needs me, Mother. I am his protector, as you once were for me.”

Her eyes lowered. There was a hint of sadness in them, but perhaps pride too. At least Alan hoped.

Alan turned to look up at his friend, trying to say “are you sure?” with his eyes, and received a confident nod in return.

“Is that your true wish? You risk peril, my son. His type of affinity is sought after by all of the dark. You have known captivity. You have known soul-bound pain of obeying a dark master—it is written all over your armor. Reflect deeply before you make that decision.”

“I have traveled with noble Alan through a long road of trials. He is as much a brother as my fellow Borai before me. I am sure, Mother, and hope to have your blessing.”

Balooma nodded, breaking eye contact again. She sighed while slowly getting to her feet. “If that is your wish, Yogi-Shontier—”

“It is.”

“—Very well. Then you have not only my blessing, but my Ojin domain as well.”

Alan’s brow furrowed. He looked to Yogi to see his white eyes wide with shock.

“Alan. You are a unique encounter. A warrior who wins the heart of my fiercest son is one worthy of my Ultimus Title… granting you ownership of a small realm built upon my accomplishments as the Borai mother.”

Alan gulped in shock. He wasn’t sure he’d just heard right. His own realm?

“Mother Balooma—”

She raised her claw for Alan to cease. “My mind, like Yogi’s, is already made up. This is the path, and hopefully this domain will aid you away from the darkness.” Her hands glowed, small tubes of light filtering through her fur to create a resplendent essence floating above her palms. “Do not take this responsibility lightly, Alan. An Ultimus Deenom may only grant this Title once. And thereafter, once the realm is in your hands, it will be open to second lives from origin souls and also… a prime target for your enemies.”

Alan didn’t know what to say. Was this equivalent to being offered godhood? No… Afarus mentioned that came later, I think.

Jeez, this is a big goddamn honor. I was just preparing myself to lose a friend, not gain a world!

“Noble Alan?” Yogi’s voice drummed through his head.

“Give him a moment. It is a lot to process,” Balooma assured.

Finally, after a world of thought, Alan came back to the present. “I always knew Strangey Town wasn’t my home.” He smirked at Yogi, then bowed his head to Balooma. “I accept the Title. It’s an honor.”

“I am glad you see it that way.” She spread her arms to release her tether on the essence, leaving it to float toward Alan.

The ghostly Borai around them chanted a low hymn… until the essence merged into Alan’s chest.

UNIQUE TITLE UNLOCKED:

Title: Ultimus Merchant of the Borai

Affinity: This Title grants you ownership of Mother Balooma’s earned realm. When selected, this Title allows for home portals to and from the realm. Once the realm is entered, initial prompts will direct you on realm manifestations.

“Thank you, Mother Balooma.” Alan bowed, steadying himself against intense surges of energy filtering into his mind.

“On the honor of the Borai, I hope you do us proud.”

“I will do my best,” Alan assured.

“Good. Now, if you please, I’d like a moment with my son.”

“Of course.” Alan bowed to Balooma and waved to Yogi’s brothers on his way out.

“Alan,” Balooma called, prompting him to turn as soon as he set foot off the pond. “Take the blue flame as well. This way, if you are ever in need, the Borai will answer.”