Chapter One Hundred One

Gunlan Mounsenker Galgandar, Second in Line for Patriarch, Lightning Lord, Shield of Coushar, and Guardian of the People proudly walked through the gates of the outer city, the skeleton crew of outer wall guards incapable of stopping him and certainly ineligible of doing so. He had little concern for proper protocol today and immediately waved them away, too anxious to return to the clan to take his rightful place as clan Patriarch.

They passed through the outer city wall quickly enough, the guards bowing away and they marched quickly through. The city still proved empty, the people still cowering like the sheep they were while he walked through the city without concern. The clan wall proved a more formidable barrier, as it should be, but as the Second in Line for Patriarch, they proved no deterrent either.

It took a bit longer to get through the gate and soon headed to his home. He entered and quickly called for his clothing to be changed. He immediately demanded that his best clothing be prepared before turning to his bathing room, having the servants bathe him. It took some time, but perfection was ever difficult.

Shortly after, he had the various servants clothe, prepare, and dress him appropriately for his soon rise to the Patriarchy. His hair took significant effort and he made note to punish the hair dresser for her poor performance. An hour later, he found himself prepared.

“Inform the Clan Bunarl representative that I seek audience.”

“Yes, Second in Line for Patriarch. Immediately.”

The messenger left at speed and Gunlan left his estate with aplomb, grace needed now more than ever for his soon rise. His arrival at the Bunarl Representative estate proved too early and Gunlan made note to punish the messenger for being too slow and his butler and servants for preparing him too quickly. But, as demanded of any Patriarch, he maintained his patient stance. But his patience soon began to wear as the Bunarl Representative had him waiting for quite some time. Gunlan clenched his teeth as his wait extended past the morning into noon and he had to miss lunch before the Bunarl Representative finally granted his audience.

“Gunlan. It is good to see you. Welcome. I apologize the home seems so… rustic, but it is the best I have to offer.”

Gunlan hid his anger at the easy belittling of his clan’s estates. He bowed and smiled.

“It is more than enough for such as I.”

“Of course it is,” the man replied with a slight frown of disgust.

Gunlan kept his anger in check and fell silent. No question or continuation of the conversation had been offered, so Gunlan restrained himself as was expected. The room fell silent for some time, almost a bell, before the clan representative continued.

“I … have not experienced such trying times in… quite some time.”

Gunlan felt his heart spike, worry worming his way in, “It has been an … unusual time for clan Galgandar.”

The representative’s eyes narrowed and Gunlan barely kept from flinching as he quickly bowed, “I wish to offer my clan’s apologies for the difficulties you experienced.”

Silence fell once again for several moments, a time that seemed as years to Gunlan but he carefully maintained correct posture and the exact bow required of an Overlord Clan apology. This time, more than a bell of time passed before the representative finally sighed and looked away then turned back with a soft slight nod.

“I see.”

It was the most strained of acceptances, but still a polite one and Gunlan clenched down on his heart to remain calm even as he kept himself still and calm. He nodded deeply and politely.

“Much thanks for your restraint.”

The representative whipped his eyes back at Gunlan, anger easily seen burning in them, “Then remember my kindness as virtue.”

Gunlan bowed once again but sneered when his head was bowed, “This one will.”

He stood back up and felt a spike of fear shoot through him when he saw the representative’s glare. The representative quickly schooled his face but Gunlan shuddered with worry to see it. Did… what?

* * *

He stood, eyes bent in an ugly scowl as he struggled to control his rage. The Coushar brat dares mock me! Fool. He thinks I see nothing? How… He quickly schooled his face when the fool stood, his face having long since returned to calm obedience. He barely controlled his rage, wishing nothing more than to strike out but found himself bound by the foolish vow. His greed had driven him and now he could only fulfil his promise, the vow forcing him to do so while restraining his desire to physically wipe the fool’s smirk from his face. His rage spiked, then immediately cooled. A vow to cause no physical harm nor to work counter to the effort… but when the effort is done… The clan representative of Bunarl simmered in cool rage. The Coushar fool had technically done no harm to him, but to cause not one, but four dungeon breaks, even one from an advanced dungeon, while he was in the city. He took another breath, calming himself. Let this farce be done with. I have no desire to be here with that eccentric! Nor with this fool. Let the work be done, the bargain complete be rid this idiot!

* * *

Gunlan strode behind the man, smirking once more as the Bunarl representative had turned away. The two walked quietly together, heading towards the audience hall where he was certain to find mother desperately struggling to salvage her reputation. Her work would be too little too late and even if she were capable of offering appropriate recompense, he’d stacked the deck too much. She would fall tonight, and the clan seat would become available. Granted, Gunlan worried slightly over his sister and her place as First in Line, but he was certain his plan would suffice. The First in Line was too invested and too … tainted by her close work and association with the Matriarch. The Matriarch had already set for plans to pass on the seat to the First in Line. The current failures could only fall at the feet of the First in Line. And the Matriarch would be removed by the Bunarl representative.

Their journey across the inner clan Dao gardens was pleasant, and as always, Gunlan swore he could feel his growth in the Dao even with only a few steps. He sighed, inhaling the scent and experience as deeply as possible before they passed through the other side. Gunlan rarely was allowed a chance to use the Dao garden, but none would gainsay an Overlord clan member.

The Dao garden abutted the clan audience hall and the Bunarl representative walked in the side entrance to the audience hall silently without disrupting the proceedings inside, although Gunlan did notice a subtle pulse of Presence from the Bunarl representative sent towards what he assumed was his mother. Gunlan followed after as the Bunarl representative made an immediately left inside the door and came to rest near the rear of the crowd that stood to attention, attending the clan ruler during held audiences.

Gunlan waited for some time before frowning. Why … why are we still sitting here. He promised… His impatience grew but the representative did not move, and Gunlan grew both angry and concerned, dismissing the audiences currently occupying his mother’s attention. After several audiences, Gunlan was unable to maintain his patience and shuffled slightly, preparing to call for his mother’s attention, but the Bunarl representative simply turned and stared at him. Gunlan breathed heavily and bowed back before returning to his side. His impatience soon stewed with no small amount of worry and fear.

* * *

He sighed, softly, without any others around him noticing. He was greatly regretting his greed and the deal he’d made with the Coushar brat. Not for any moral concern or worry, but for the foolish stupidity the boy had shown. He could only shake his head in sad acceptance over the Matriarch’s soon demise, but the least he could offer her was some form of peace and respect. Despite his efforts, his anger over how the Coushar brat had treated him, and how the brat had endangered his life with several dungeon breaks, there was little he could do. His deal was ironclad. He had to remove the Matriarch from her seat and open the way for the brat. He also had to make sure the Matriarch had no option of retaking her clan seat. He sighed. There was little he could do as the best option for truly turning the screws on the brat would be to leave the Matriarch as a thorn in his side, but aside from his own anger, he had no incentive to do so. The easiest answer would be to simply kill her for her ‘supposed’ failures.

Finally, the Matriarch acknowledged him and he stepped forward. She was, as always, competently polite and respectful of him.

“Overlord Clan representative of clan Bunarl, please find comfort in our halls.”

* * *

Clan Matriarch Toulnaria Galgandar stifled her shuddering breath, calming herself before taking one more deep breath. She would no longer be Matriarch; not after these events. But she could only hope to dampen the repercussions of her massive failure as she called forth the clan representative.

“Overlord Clan representative of clan Bunarl, please find comfort in our halls.”

He came forward, calm and quite reserved, although a hint of pity flickered in his eyes and she struggled to keep her own face neutral, grinding her teeth softly. He stood in the middle of the hall, staring up at her before finally sighing and dropping his head slightly, shoulders slouching.

“This has been… unprecedented.”

She kept her grimace from her face but bowed her head as was expected of a Matriarch to her clan Overlord, “Yes, Bunarl Representative.”

“Is there any news?”

She nodded, “All dungeons were held at the door.”

The Bunarl representative proved shocked by the news, a single eyebrow cocking upwards in surprise, “All held at the gate?”

“No, representative. At the door.”

“Even the advanced dungeon?”

She bowed her head once again in acknowledgement of the question but also in answer as well.

“You have… trained your clanners well!”

She bowed her head again, this time in gratefulness of the praise, “I believe I have representative of Bunarl, although the advanced dungeon was not held by any of me or mine.”

“It was not?”

She shook her head, “It was held by the eccentric.”

The Bunarl representative froze at that, before softening and nodding softly in return to her, although much more shallowly than her own head bows to him.

“He was willing to help in the defense.”

It was almost a question. The representative desired to know her connection to the man. She didn’t say anything, not wishing any lie to be released that could be tested or heard, choosing instead to focus on Eccentric Joe’s phenomenal defense, “He held the advanced dungeon alone; all three days without rest or reprieve.”

That shook the Bunarl representative. He struggled to school his face but he slowly nodded, “He is a great ally.”

“He is my daughter’s husband,” she offered with a soft wave towards Gwenvair.

That gave great pause to the man, as he blinked and turned to stare thoughtfully at Gwenvair. The whole audience hall fell silent at this news, although most seemed more concerned of the Bunarl representative than surprised by the news of her daughter’s change in status or new husband. All watched him cautiously before the man finally seemed to process the news and bowing with a slightly deeper dip of the head to the Matriarch.

“Congratulations.”

“My thanks, representative of Overlord Clan Bunarl.”

A deep pause in time occurred once more as all froze, awaiting the Bunarl representatives’ action. The atmosphere took on an increasingly oppressive weight as even the blindest in the audience hall became aware of some great poignancy to the moment. The time passed slowly in but an eye blink as it quickly became obvious a decision had been made.

The Bunarl representative drew himself up, the soft concern replaced by harsh impetus, “Responsibility still must be taken.”

She barely withheld her own sigh, her hope quickly dying as she stood and bowed deeply to the Bunarl representative, “This one understands.”

The Bunarl representative paused at that and stared at her, then softly offered her the boon she wasn’t sure she was going to receive, “Have you any words?”

“I have failed. I hope I can offer my life and this small gift as recompense to spare my clan of my failures,” she remained bowed, deeply, while waving to her left where a small page boy walked forward with a single core in an ornate box well-padded in thick rich deep green cloth to appropriately contrast the simple core sitting with it.

The Bunarl representative cocked an eyebrow in surprise, glancing at the core before looking back at her, “This?”

“A perfect core, Bunarl representative.”

The man’s composure finally broke as he quickly breathed in, shocked enough that a small gasp broke free. No one else heard it as ever other person in the room immediately gasped and many began murmuring softly amongst themselves. The clan representative quickly recovered himself and coughed softly, if firmly under his breath. The entire room fell back into a unnatural silence.

“A perfect core?”

“A recent acquirement of mine.”

“And you are willing to share such a thing with me?”

“I have failed, badly. My clan deserves no part of my failures. They succeeded wildly despite my failure.”

The man seemed to have softened significantly as he nodded while adding softly, “That… that much is quite true.”

* * *

He struggled to maintain his composure as the perfect core sat opened before him within the poorly made container; poorly made and of poor materials. Despite the poor wrapping, the gift itself was kingly in nature, if true, and he truly began to curse himself. The karmic debt he would gain from this foolishness would be great, and he struggled to find some path through to some possibility that would allow him to complete his responsibility while keeping his karma balanced. He struggled, so sought time.

He walked forward, passing the bowing Matriarch before grasping the perfect core in the box. Not likely perfect. If I am lucky, it may be almost perfect… some nine parts in ten… possibly even more, but …

His thoughts stuttered to a halt when his mana flowed into the core and through it without any effort. He blinked. He sent another flair of mana through, and it slid through perfectly, his intent unblemished. He quickly began to flair his mana with multiple intents and variations and each went through without blemish, each and every one of them. He struggled to hold his excitement in and turned imperiously to look at the Matriarch. This… He struggled to hide his grimace that soon followed. This karmic debt… is larger than a cradle! His mind rattled and he struggled to find some option to balance the debt correctly. He glanced back at the brat, his thoughts in turmoil. A promise to remove the Matriarch balanced against a perfect core! But the only people who cannot become clan leaders are non clanners, the dead, and the… He blinked then smiled and turned back to the Matriarch.

“Responsibility must be taken.”

“I understand.”

He paused at that, staring quietly and holding place imperiously. Waiting silently while staring down at someone almost always brought about interesting results; either confusion or awe.

He spoke, “You will accept responsibility.”

She nodded, bowing her head deeper from her currently bowed position, “Yes, Clan Overlord.”

“Even to your person?”

She shivered at that but firmly nodded, “Yes, Clan Overlord”

He paused once again, allowing the moment to sit heavy in the hall before he continued, “I pass sentence.”

The hall erupted in murmurs before quickly quieting when he raised an arm, “You are removed from the clan seat. Receive my punishment. Stand.”

He moved.

* * *

Gwenvair struggled to hold herself still as she watched her mother stand to receive the Overlord representative’s punishment. Her mother was likely to die today, but she felt some hope as she saw the representative had softened with mother’s gift. She waited for the representative to act. When he commanded her mother to rise, she tensed with some fear then struggled to stifle her gasping cry.

The representative charged forward and buried a claw into her mother’s chest, she sensed mana erupting in a swirl around the claw on her mother’s chest. Her mother collapsed but the representative’s attack seemed to hold her up. Soon, a keening cry slowly grew to echo throughout the hall and Gwenvair wondered at its source until she realized that her mother was crying in pain. The keening cry grew then her mother erupted into a full throated roar of pain that left everyone stunned.

The representative held his palm pressed against her mother and she dangled at the end of his arm almost like she was being held there. Finally, the representative’s action completed and her mother fell to the floor on her knees, gasping. The representative stood up and stepped back, staring down at her mother. He waited.

Her mother struggled to stand but made it before bowing sincerely to the Overlord representative, “Thank you for your mercy, Clan Overlord Representative.”

The man nodded then turned away, “My time is done. I return to report to Bunarl Clan.”

Her mother did not reply, simply remaining bowed, and Gwenvair struggled to understand her mother’s silence. Her brother stepped forward.

“Clan representative.”

The representative immediately turned to Gunlan. She could easily see that her brother was quite irritated but the representative’s immediate turn and look at Gunlan cut him short.

“Representative. She cannot…”

The representative waved a hand and then began speaking with her brother, and her brother did not seem happy to hear his words, although no one else in the room heard anything, the silencing ward of the representative hiding the conversation.

* * *

Gunlan raged. The representative had reneged on their deal and he confronted the representative, albeit quite politely.

“My mother… she cannot remain. She will interfere.”

The representative stared down on him before smirking, “You asked that the Matriarch be removed and no longer a threat to your clan seat, yes?”

Gunlan scowled, “Yes, but she still lives.”

“She is crippled.”

Gunlan’s eye’s widened at that. He still attempted to cautiously explain the representative’s failure, “She can still…”

The representative interrupted him, “Can she take the clan seat?”

Gunlan struggled to keep from gritting his teeth, “No. Her cultivation…”

“Then how can she take your clan seat?”

She cannot! But she can still interfere… Gunlan took a deep breath, “She cannot, bu…”

“Then, the deal is done.”

This time, Gunlan couldn’t hold back his anger, and his teeth grit, lips twitching into anger even as his eyes twitched as rage spiked. He opened his mouth to complain but the representative snorted and his Presence flooded their privacy ward. Gunlan froze. This… He struggled to control his rage before finally speaking with great effort to hold his anger.

“The deal is done.”

The magic welled up then washed outwards, and Gunlan struggled to hold his rage at having been forced to accept the completion of the deal before what had been agreed upon. It was only a moment later, after the representative had already left the room that Gunlan became aware of all staring at him. He looked around, noticing a tense anger in the room.

“What!” Gunlan offered angrily.

He looked at everyone, smirking before turning to look at his mother and his sister, both no longer impediments to his rise to the clan seat. He’d originally had a plan to remove his sister as she was next in line, but with her marriage to the eccentric, she was no longer First in Line and the eccentric was not a man he wished to anger. He then looked around and stepped forward, walking towards the clan seat.

His sister interrupted his triumphant crowning, her rage easily evident in her voice, “The deal is done?”

Gunlan froze, then stared around the audience hall and realized quickly that the Bunarl representative had royally screwed him, he cursed, rage twisting his own face in turn and he turned to face his sister.

“You are no longer clan! You have no say here! Keep your mouth shut!”

It did little to comfort him. The clan elders stared at him with barely stifled rage and even his own allies distanced themselves from him. Gunlan’s rise to Clan Patriarch was not looking auspicious.

* * *

Clan representative for the Overlord clan Bunarl quickly slipped from the audience hall and fled back to his guest villa. He had not enjoyed the Gunlan brat and was well rid of the entitled trash. He quickly prepared himself for travel and not a moment too late. The eccentric’s blazing Presence came into his senses and he froze. The man… was not well, his power blazed wildly out of control, in a way that left the representative feeling no small amount of fear. Time to go. Now. I have no desire to be here when he sees his ally crippled. While he was fairly certain the eccentric would not be fool enough to interject himself into legitimate clanner business, the certainty that the eccentric would be punished well after his corpse cooled was not comfort. He took his man and fled from the villa, holding his Presence in tightly while leading both to a second inner clan gate. The eccentric did not turn towards him, which relieved him greatly, but he did not slow his speed at all, slipping form the city late in the afternoon on the last day of the dungeon breaks.

* * *

Joe raged in darkness but did not understand what he was raging against. His mind seemed stuffed with cotton even as he stared around at the darkness full of growling beasts. He was tense, but it was not the primary source of his rage. He stalked the darkness, wandering without purpose or meaning except for the deep underlying despairing rage.

Suddenly, a soft beacon shone in the darkness and a call to rise came to him. So much like an alarm from back home that it jerked him awake unceremoniously. He groaned and ignored the alarm, subconsciously slapping it with a snooze, but it returned with a vengeance and Joe woke, bleary eyed, staring around himself with dazed confusion. A voice called out to him, tugging him to his feet, but he ignored it in his exhaustion. The voice called to him again, and he felt himself yanked to his feet. He put an arm down to stand then lurched when a heavy weight in his lap brought his eyes down. In his lap, he found a familiar form. Garnedell.

The monsters! Garnedell!! Hurt! Dead!

Joe lurched to his feet with ragged terror. He pulled Garnedell’s body into his chest as he stood then stared around in a bit of a daze, noticing his bag and the star weaponry. He noticed a short odd man in a dirty soldier’s uniform standing before him and looking at him rather imperiously. He blinked, then looked around. The man spoke again, but Joe’s exhausted mind noticed little and he stepped forward to follow the man before suddenly stopping. No! The stuff.

“Could you please grab the bag and the … those metal star things. Garnedell’s… in bad shape! I need a healer now!”

The man looked at him, comical surprise and shock painting his face before he shook it free, “No. Follow me. Now!”

Joe blinked in surprise, ignoring his desire simply to follow after. He shook his head.

“Get my stuff. We don’t have time to argue. Garnedell is… really needs medical attention!”

The man seemed even more shocked. Joe narrowed his eyes and felt anger spiking through him.

“Get. My. Stuff. Now. Or do you want me to convince you violently?”

A twinge of pain and worry slithered through Joe but he ignored it and stared angrily at the shoddy soldier. The man stared at him and a growing fear took over his features. Joe could care less, wanting only to return as quickly as possible, only hoping that Garnedell might be saved. He unconsciously clung to a plastic card, as if a treasure, while struggling to carry Garnedell through the depths of the dungeon. The dirty soldier finally scrambled towards the bag and his star weaponry. They were quickly piled on top of the bag but Joe no longer cared, turning to leave the soldier behind him as he fled for the entrance. He didn’t really care, but he heard the soldier scrambling after him.

* * *

This was dumb. This was so so dumb. So so so very dumb! He threatened me. He THREATENED me! How could he?! And rejected an ORDER! He… ordered ME! This is… so so so very dumb! How could he…?! He scrambled mindlessly in shock after the eccentric and truly regretted his folly. The man moved at speed, surprising with the corpse he carried with them. They made their way through the third floor quickly, if with some difficulty as the eccentric regularly demanded directions. Despite the eccentric’s direct interactions with him, he did not get angry easily and proved rather polite. This did not calm him as he feared the eccentric still did not know he was now a slave. He also had no desire for the man to realize he was now collared and who had likely collared him.

They made the second floor and he was required to direct their exit once again but when they made it to the first floor, the eccentric immediately led them to the entrance with ease. He’s… never been beyond the first floor? Why is … how is he an eccentric? He followed after, scurrying much like a toady. The man terrified him.

The man actually sprinted through the first floor and got to the staircase leading up to the surface. On their way up the staircase, they came upon the scouts and soldiers sent in to verify the safety of the dungeon and the end of the dungeon break. The eccentric paused at seeing the soldiers and the soldiers quickly took defensive positions while looking at Joe. Some relaxed when they noticed he was with the eccentric. It did not stop their duty.

“Report?”

“Excuse me?” the eccentric asked with some confusion and a bit of anger.

“What has happened below?”

The eccentric sighed, pausing for a moment before speaking, “I don’t… all the monsters went crazy. They all attacked me and mine. I killed them all. There are no more, but my apprentice was killed. I need a healer or …”

The soldiers all stepped back, many awed by the man’s claims and with no small amount of worry.

“There are no more monsters?”

The eccentric swayed, but replied, “None between here and the third… almost the fourth floor. I don’t know how many monsters I killed… or how many are on the deeper floors, but no more came and attacked me.”

“The Great and Master monsters?”

“Uh… I don’t…” the eccentric paused once again, seeming to think carefully before continuing, “Stronger monsters, yes? I… remember fighting some few, but I am… very exhausted. I cannot remember how many or … which ones.”

The soldiers muttered softly amongst themselves at that and when the commanding officer asked another question, the eccentric immediately cut them off.

“I’m sorry, but I know very little beyond that and I really must go quickly if I hope to save my apprentice,” the eccentric then mumbled under his breath quietly, “if there is a way.”

The soldiers immediately parted and the eccentric continued up the stairs, no longer sprinting, but jogging up pretty quickly and he followed as best he could but found his stamina soon failing. He struggled after, his breathing now growing very labored but his walking money bag was escaping and he had no desire to lose him.

* * *

The captain of the advanced dungeon had just sent his best delver team to verify the end of the break, his best scout already returned with news that the break likely had ended, the sound of rabid beasts having fallen silent. He sighed before turning to return to his office but froze when a clamor of noise drifted up out of the dungeon entrance and he whipped back around, shouting out.

“Defenses Alert! Dragon defense team at the entrance. Dragon Spears back up the dragon defense! Wyrm, kraken, and phoenix teams in support! Rest on the wall! Prepare!”

The courtyard erupted into action, soldiers running everywhere and it was beautiful chaos. Within moments, the dungeon courtyard silenced and a heavy pall fell over everyone as all waited tensely. Time passed and passed more, the tension ratcheting up even more when the noise died out. Silence stretched the tension to breaking before it crested and retreated as several soldiers were able to shake from the tension to shift, seeking comfort. Tension spiked again when noise was heard again for a moment but then everyone relaxed when they realized it was the sounds of footsteps. They were jogging, but lacked any sense of urgency. Despite that, the captain held their place until one of the scouts that had been sent in came jogging out of the dungeon.

The scout seemed unconcerned, allowing the captain to rest a bit but then another two individuals came out after the scout and everyone tensed once again. The scout waved out, shouting they were clear and everyone relaxed once again, but maintained their positions as excellent soldiers always did. The captain flickered a glance towards the other two, quickly recognizing the eccentric carrying a body out with another soldier hauling bags and tools up behind the eccentric. The eccentric stumbled when he exited into the light of day, obviously light blinded. He did frown to see the soldier, however, since he was dirty and unkempt, likely from another one of the dungeons for he would never allow for such poor soldiers within his command. The scout pulled up to his side and saluted quickly, drawing his attention back.

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“Report?”

“The eccentric claims to have killed all dungeon monste…”

A bellow interrupted the scouts report, “Healer! I need a healer!”

The captain frowned but remembered who was asking and flickered a glance towards one of his support healing squads. He caught their attention with a nod before flicking a finger towards the eccentric. The healer squad quickly saluted and double timed towards the eccentric. He dismissed them and turned back to the scout.

“Continue!”

“Sir! He claims the dungeon did break; all the monsters attacked him but he held the line, killing all beasts including the master and guardian beasts.”

The captain held his breath, fighting hard to maintain his equilibrium, “His companion is injured?”

“I am uncertain, captain.”

“They were able to fight all the dungeons alone?”

“He was, sir.”

The captain fought once more to keep himself stone faced before he nodded, “Excellent, dismissed.”

The scout nodded and turned to leave the courtyard out to his billet. The captain took a deep breath and turned towards the eccentric. He came upon him from the rear then froze in fear when he looked down to see a silver glittering around the eccentric’s neck. When… who!? The captain flickered a look towards the scrubby soldier then back to the eccentric. His second glance caught the scrubby soldier’s eye and the man had the audacity to grin in triumph. The captain rapidly turned away and grimaced. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Stupid!

He kept his movement controlled but marched out of the dungeon wall gateway and shouted out, “Quickest messenger! Now!”

He didn’t even make it to the exit before the messenger was at his side, “Reporting, sir!”

“Inform the Matriarch immediately. Some idiot’s collared the eccentric.”

The news was enough to break the messenger’s composure and he turned to stare at the captain before stuttering out a salute and response, “Ah… y… yes sir!”

He turned away and disappeared in a gust of wind. The captain fled back to his office and promised himself he would never leave.

* * *

Joe followed after the scout that had run back to report to the captain with labored breathing. His mind seemed a haze, few thoughts actually following any meaningful string of logic as random ideas, images, and thoughts percolated through his mind like soap bubbles randomly popping as he thought of them. He just couldn’t use his mind with any meaningful purpose. The only thought that he really could keep with some semblance of permanence was Garnedell. He had to heal him. He had to heal him. There must be some way to heal him. That, more than anything else, drove him onward after the scout.

He staggered up the spiral staircase and finally saw the light of day staining the stairs ahead of him before the doorway was revealed. The light hit him like a brick, dazing him slightly as he squinted hard against the brilliant outdoor light. The fact the light seemed so bright gave him pause. Was it always… so bright? The dungeon wasn’t… this dark… it’s… sun’s too far… gas giant not reflectin… His mind wandered again, new thoughts dazing him in a swarm before he pushed through and took another step up the stairs. Garnedell! Healer… Garnedell!

He was squinting badly by the time he made it to the entrance but his concern wasn’t for his eyes at all, and he pushed on. His foot stepped past the threshold, allowing himself to move out into the bright wide world and as soon as his body passed the plane of the threshold, Joe felt his exhaustion hammer into him once again. Made it! Out! Safe…

His weight carrying leg buckled and he collapsed to the ground, kneeling, even as he groaned. He was able to fall slowly, if gracelessly, his legs shivering with exhaustion and overwork. His mind thundered, random thoughts pounding through his mind. The memory of his lone practice in the inn courtyard thundered back into his mind, across the wall two individuals spoke of a new and special job. Something important to the job. A physics job that would allow him power. Garnedell would still be alive… if he’d only listened… wouldn’t have to beat back the monsters with a stick. Machine gun… shot gun… maybe even laser… with magic… just… dust every…

He groaned and blinked, his thoughts distant and muddled, stuffed cotton candy fluff covering everything and making his thoughts disjointed; muddled with dozens of other images and ideas intermingled. Physics job… would have… Joe wavered badly on his knee. A heavy weight dragged at his arms and he looked down at them to see what was holding his arms in place. Something heavy… this… Physics job… good…. Guns… help fight… need to prote… no… heal! Heal! Garnedell! His thoughts stuttered, everything freezing for a moment when his eyes finally registered what was weighing down his arms. The cotton candy fluff stuffing his mind evaporated almost immediately under the cold splash of clarity in recognizing Garnedell in his arms, his skin an awful pale shade of blue. Garnedell! Healss… Healer!

“Healer!” Joe growled out softly as he struggled to his feet with effort, his stupor still causing him to wobble but his clarity returning as he stood to his feet.

“Healer!” Joe’s cry was louder as he finally reached his feet.

“I need a healer! Now!” Joe took several steps forward but had no destination in mind, only moving because of the certainty that he had to get somewhere to do something.

“Healer! Please!” Joe’s firm cries grew desperate, his pride easily sacrificed as he succumbed to begging.

Around him, the soldiers stared at him before a group off to his left seemed to react, several turning towards him. He saw them coming and his relief propelled him towards them, even as he staggered into a poor run which had him unable to maintain his balance. He fell forward , almost falling to his knees but was caught by one of the first members of the group to reach him.

“Healer?”

The man nodded, “Yes, eccentric. We can help you. Please put him down. Let us check…”

“Not me! I’m fine! Not me… please check him. Garnedell! He’s…”

“Shh… Shhh…. I understand. We will check him. Let me help you so we don’t bother the healers.”

“Garne… don’t both… oooh… ah…” Joe collapsed back onto his rear and let his mind adrift even as exhaustion began to rob coherence from him.

He didn’t understand what was said around him, but he drifted in and out of thought. The healers clumped around Garnedell speaking rapidly and touching him in appropriately healerish ways, although his mind barely held the thought while he watched on in hope, his hand clutching a card. They continued talking quietly amongst themselves before turning away from Garnedell and turning to him. He sighed in relief to see it and grinned a bit before he began to frown.

As the healers parted from Garnedell to come surround him, Garnedell’s body came into view and Joe saw the awful wound, jagged and unhealed still open to the air. The blue tinge to the skin and the impossible stillness remained. Joe’s mind jolted, freezing before skipping back to thought.

“Heal him! Heal him! Why…”

“Sir… sir. Please, sir.”

“No. Heal him! You must…”

“Sir. Please. You must… we cannot …”

The statement interrupted Joe’s devoted focus on his task and he turned to the healer that spoke to him, “What? W… you are a healer. Heal him.”

The healer frowned, sadness pulling the corners of his eyes down, “I’m sorry, eccentric. We cannot. He’s…dead.”

Joe sat, stunned. His mind struggled to understand. His mind whirled through options and couldn’t resolve the issue. Heal… can’t heal… they… what did they say? He’s… they can’t heal… why can’t hea… uh… dead. The thought left his mind startlingly clear, his entire existence pausing in that moment. Dead! No! Can’t be… He’s dead… there’s… CPR?! … Too long… this…. Nothing… it’s done… nothing… not even magic… Magic!

“Resurrect! Resurrection! Uh… Rebirth! Something!” Joe cried wildly at the healer.

The man’s patient concern flickered, an unreadable coldness flashing across before he replied, “We do not have such power… or such magic.”

His hope fell to despair before reigniting almost immediately, “Healers do not have it! Then… who does!”

The healer stared at him before he shook his head, “I have only heard of rumors. But, it is likely too late to do su…”

“Where! What rumors!” Joe cut him off in his urgency.

The healer remained impassive before nodding, “Only the priests have such power, if rumors are to be believed, but, I know nothing of such thin…”

Joe quickly stood, staggering to Garnedell before lifting him tenderly to his arms, “Thank you, healer! Truly. I must go quickly. I… thank you!”

Joe staggered to his feet and turned to the dungeon gate exit. Priest! Resurrect! Need… Priest… find!

* * *

The captain of the advanced dungeon guard sat in his office with stern expression which hid a deep barely concealed concern. He kept his face well controlled as he awaited the return of his messenger. As time went on, he’d grown ever concerned and had sent a second messenger with explicit orders to return regardless of success. His second messenger had proven just as slow although he did return and was soon to arrive with a report. Only a few moments later, a polite knock rang out on the door and the captain readied himself with a deep cleansing breath.

“Come in.”

The door entered and his aide held the door to the side for the messenger before calling in, identifying his new guest before closing the door and leaving them to their privacy. His messenger came forward and slammed a fist to his chest while coming to strict attention.

“Reporting, captain!”

“Continue.”

“The original messenger is delayed at the clan walls. None may enter and the messenger reports seeing almost no one leaving.”

The captain ground his teeth and struggled to control the growl that slipped up to snarl his lips. He remained silent before nodding.

“Dismissed.”

The messenger slammed his fist to his chest, snapping to salute, “Sir!”

The captain accomplished very little that afternoon, tension screwing his distraction to excess.

* * *

The messenger barely held himself back, the odd tension of the morning’s message from the captain only adding to his own concern multiplied by the strangeness at the clan gates. All was strangely silent for a busy afternoon. He remained on duty, as he should, but oddities continued to add to his own worry.

* * *

Joe struggled to continue on, his thoughts ripped to jagged shreds by his exhaustion. His steps automatically turned towards the temple of knowledge, his memory of Kukurnal guiding him more than any conscious decision. He stumbled up the stairs of the temple, bellowing loudly to move the crowd. People stared at him oddly as he stumbled up, but he noticed nothing. His entrance into the vaulted depths of the temple proved loud and unruly, and still, he noticed nothing. Others, however, noticed him quite well, and several priests and priestesses quickly converged on him to quiet him.

“Sir. Sir! Please! Offer proper decorum at our holy place, please!”

Joe turned to the older woman who was rebuking him, deaf to her rebuke, “Please! Please. Help him. Help Garnedell now! The healers said that you could help him!”

The anger on the older priestess’s face faded, replaced by confusion, then concern. She stared down at Garnedell’s body in his arms before she glanced back up.

“I’m sorry, si... uh… I’m sorry. There is little we can do for such as hi…”

“No! Please. At least look! You must look.”

“We do not offer free services simply becau…”

Joe shoved Garnedell into the priestess’s arms before whipping around behind to his bag. He stopped, stunned to find the bag not on his back before remembering he’d asked the soldier to help him. His unfocused eyes struggled to search the crowd behind him before he picked out that soldier holding his bag. He felt nothing, knowing he should have felt relieved to find it, but his mind only sought only one thing.

He ripped the bag from the soldier’s grasp and shuffled through it until he pulled out a core and turned back to the priestess.

“Here! This should be more than enough. Now, help him!” Joe staggered forward and dropped the core into someone’s hands before looking down at Garnedell’s body resting on the floor. When… did I put him on … he… no… off … not the floor… Joe collapsed on the floor next to Garnedell’s body and began lifting him up once again, staring up towards the person he’d given the core to.

That priest was staring at the core in shock before looking up at Joe, “We cannot.”

“More?! I can give you anyth…”

“Please. Listen. We priests and priestesses cannot heal. We… the gods and goddesses are powerful… but even they cannot bring the dead back. This … I’m sorry,” the priest ended before handing the core back to Joe with firm sorrow.

Joe’s thoughts struggled even while his heart rebelled against the news, “The healers said you can resurrect. The healers said…”

“There is no pope in the cit…”

Suddenly, weight shifted in his hands, what had been dragging him down vanishing even as a cloud of mist seemed to form in front of him. He blinked, staring down dumbly at his lap even as several of the priests and priestesses around him withdrew with soft gasps.

“Dungeon death!”

“Taken…”

“Consumed… the dungeon has taken him.”

Joe noticed none of this, his thoughts only on the final totality of his loss. Joe’s mind stuttered, paused, ground through the ramifications and rebelled again and again but found no alternative. Slowly, despair began to set in and his body crumpled to the floor until he lay curled over where Garnedell’s body would be if he still held it, tears dripping onto his legs and arms. Rage welled up within him at his own incompetence even as despair eroded his control and sorrow punched straight out of his lungs, echoing throughout the vast stone building.

“Noooooo!”

Sobs echoed as guests and priests stared with odd expressions, concern, fear, and uncertainty hastening their movements silently away from the crumpled figure slouched over the corpse.

* * *

Seeing the core laying in the priest’s hand, the scout grew greedy and looked at the bag that was now laying at the eccentric’s feet. The eccentric then staggered to the body of the boy as he lifted it once again. The soldier could only be in awe at the eccentric’s stamina but his eyes flickered back to the bag at his feet and he began edging forward. At this point, he regretted his actions deeply as the eccentric was beyond what he could understand. The eccentric’s power was so overwhelming it terrified him and he had no desire to remain anywhere near such power.

He glanced down at the strange star shaped spears in his hands then back at the bag. He muttered before very carefully placing the stars on the floor as quietly as possible before standing once again. The bag was his, by right of ownership, and escaping even with only that would be a great gain. He watched the eccentric carefully, sliding up towards him before shivering in fear.

The conversation with the priest had reached its logical conclusion when the boy’s body vanished in a puff of mist, taken by the dungeon and consumed for its own growth. Then the priests and priestesses surrounding the eccentric all took a step back before turning to flee. The movement was silent, but their efforts were panic stricken. Why are they run… He ripped his gaze back to the eccentric to see the man collapse on the floor, curling around the empty space where the boy’s body once had been even as he slumped. He cursed when he saw the eccentric lean against the bag to rest but then froze when he caught a glimpse of the utter sorrow on the eccentric’s face.

No… no… broken eccentric… NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!! His thoughts vaporized into fear as he fled from the temple in stark terror. I want nothing to do with him! Nothing! Please! Let me get far enough away!

With a quiet, firm, whisper, the soldier fled the temple, “Release claim.”

Within the temple, the platinum colored collar on Joe’s neck faded to dull bronze.

* * *

Joe did not know how long he stayed in the temple, his despair all-consuming but exhausting. After some time, his tears dried up and left him gutted, a hollow shadow of a man until a person came to him and tried to comfort him. The words were meaningless, but he did find them soothing. Some time in those moments he became aware of his surroundings and realized he was collapsed on the floor in the middle of the temple, exhaustedly grieving against his bag. His grief was all consuming, yet a sense of drive still pushed him on. There was work yet to be done, and duty pressed upon him. He stood. His bag slipped onto his back almost automatically but he found himself stumbling to a stop when he found the star weapons before him. He groaned, but then picked them up and trudged out of the temple. He didn’t choose a direction. He chose no path and had no thoughts. Muscle memory had him return to the inn, and so he did so. Sleep?... yeah… sleep… might… yeah…

Joe came upon the inn suddenly and his arrival shocked him back to the awareness, the memory of the travel from the temple lost to a hazy dream. He wavered before the inn door before finally pressing on inside. He found himself a bit shocked once inside since it was silent as a tomb, no other person there. The confusion was slow to change to worry and he stomped across the common room up to the rooms above.

He started up the stairs in a rush he felt was rapid but proved to be a shambling stumble. He was not quiet at all and before he even made it to the top of the stairs, the door to his room slammed open. He staggered to a halt when his door opened and stared up to see Kilniara at the top of the stairs staring down at him. His sorrow welled up once more and tears lined his eyes. He struggled a few moments to get his emotions under control but seeing Kilniara’s teary eyes helped him regain equilibrium.

He smiled wearily and returned to staggering up the stairs. Kilniara’s tears quickly changed from worry to relief although they didn’t abate. She scrambled towards him and he did as well, although for a much more practical reason: he didn’t want her leaping on him in the stairwell.

He did make the top of the stairs although Kilniara did restrain herself and her quick glance at the star weapons in his arms made it obvious why she did not. He smiled, finding humor in it for some odd reason but quickly realized that he wasn’t exactly stable. My … exhaustion?... maybe… this…

“Sleep?”

Kilniara smiled joyfully with that and simply nodded before returning to their room, making sure to hold the door open for him. Joe nodded, thanking her with a simple monosyllabic response while slipping into the room. He dropped the star weapons, the backpack, and his spear and buckler before simply collapsing on the bed. He was asleep even before he’d dropped his weapons.

* * *

What happened? Why… Worry gnawed at her, concern over Joe’s upset chewing deep within her heart even as she. Where was he? And what happened… Kilniara stared at Joe, shocked that he’d collapsed upon his bed but quickly realized that whatever it was took three days and it seemed he’d been without rest for most of it. She sighed deeply then pushed the worry aside. At least I can help him. She smiled softly at that and sat on the bed next to him, trailing a hand through his hair. Her hand paused then continued through his hair when she realized how dirty it was. Wow… didn’t realize how… clean his worship of ... baithing made him. His hair is quite… oily. Is it natural? How… no… let me help him become comfortable. She slid her hands through his hair, blushing furiously as she did so as it was traditionally a wife’s work. It was a wonderful fantasy, however, and she didn’t let it stop her, reveling in the event and emotions. She brushed his hair carefully out over his shoulders. Hmm… getting almost too long… we’ll need to cut it soon. She brushed her hands through his hair another couple times before pulling herself away.

She stood and turned to the water basin and a wash cloth before fumbling, turning back to Joe. She struggled, but soon was able to remove his shirt and turn him to his side. With this done, she returned to the basin and wet the cloth. She turned back to Joe and settled on the bed once again. She found herself pausing, her gaze tracing down his chest and across his body. Her hand stuttered as it approached him, embarrassment warring with desire until finally her hand pressed against his chest, the cloth trailing across him. She paused at that, tracing soft circles on his chest before she finally shook herself free and began to truly bathe him. Washing his arms proved easy enough for her, although the thickness of his upper arms bothered her a bit.

With the bathing done of his chest and arms done, she dithered for some time, uncertainty warring with concern until finally she decided to stay by his side, not wishing for him to be alone when he awoke. She slithered in behind him, spooning into his back. She buried her nose into the nape of his neck, enjoying the heady yet earthy scent of him. She nuzzled into him while wrapping her arm around him, her nose brushing across collar without even feeling it, its presence almost as if it were a part of his skin and barely perceptible to Kilniara. Maybe… just… a little rest…

* * *

Joe slept the sleep of the dead. It wasn’t a perfect sleep, however, as he found himself uncomfortably hot and pressed in from the rear. He wasn’t sure how many times he woke, shifting to cool himself for push away the weight on his rear until finally the discomfort overwhelmed his desire for sleep and he rose to a bright noon sun shining in inn window. He stared around the room for a moment before startling in shock, staring everywhere with rapid glances of fear until he was certain he was somehow back in his room. Was it… how… wasn’t I in the dungeon? Fighting off a wave of monsters… how… Joe glanced back to find Kilniara rousing herself, having fallen asleep pressed against his back and his relief rose even more. Kilniara’s safe… and Zilnek and Garnedell… Garnedell!

The memory of it shattered his calm and he shuddered, his face crumpling briefly before he firmed himself. It wasn’t fast enough.

“What’s wrong?”

Joe’s features fluttered again, struggling to remain stoic before finally firming once again. He clenched his teeth several times before finally speaking.

“Garnedell’s dead.”

Kilniara’s face splintered, sorrow rupturing across her face before it was replaced by concern, “Are you OK?”

Joe wavered, clenching teeth a few times before nodding his head yes, then stopping and shaking his head no before finally speaking, “I… yes… no… I…”

He stuttered to a halt and finally shook his head, tears beginning to fall down stony cheeks. He sobbed once before dropping his head back down again. Kilniara looked at him, a bit stunned before leaping towards him and wrapping him in her arms.

“I’m… so sorry.”

Joe cried for only a few moments before roughly wiping away his tears and sitting up. Breathing deeply, he turned into Kilniara’s and held her as he told the story before ending in quite sadness.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to sa… save him.”

“Shh… shh… you saved my brother… and yourself! That… was amazing… in a dungeon break? It was ... completely amazing."

Joe clenched at the mention of her brother, grinding his teeth but kept himself restrained, “But it wasn’t enough.”

Kilniara fell silent at that for several moments and simply held him, allowing him his moment to recuperate. They simply held each other for some time until Joe calmed and Kilniara pulled back, looking at Joe with some concern. Joe noticed that and found his eyebrows knotting.

“You seem… unconcerned about Garnedell’s death?”

Kilniara looked up at Joe, “I… you were close to him?”

Joe shrugged with a bit of a scowl, “He was the first friend I had here, so… yeah… maybe hits me a bit hard, but, he died!”

Kilniara seemed a bit confused, “You… have not had many of your friends die?”

Joe sat up, confused in turn, “No. I’ve never had any of my friends die.”

Kilniara’s confusion faded and was replaced with both awe and a bit of pity, replying with more of a statement than a question, “Your people do not have many deaths?”

“I…” Joe trailed off, lost in thought and with a bit of wonder, realizing that for Kilniara, this would be the third death of someone she personally knew in only a year or two. He looked up at her.

“I guess… my clan is very… peaceful for many of my people.”

Kilniara sighed and the confusion had long changed to pity, “People die every day. It is sad… sadder to lose a friend or one who is close, but … death is a constant companion for any adventurer. Loki’s Curse! Death is common for anyone. Everyone in this city has lost at least two or three family members already.”

Joe blinked at this, shocked, “Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

Joe’s eyebrow quirked in shock at that, “At least?”

Kilniara nodded with a sad frown, “My brother is the fourth born, not the first. And I am the seventh born. My mother had eleven children. Our family has lost nine. Granted, my family has lost a bit more than most, but it isn’t unusual for most families of the outer city to lose as many as mine. And… I lost my parents…”

“Your mom at nine miscarriages?”

“Miscarriage?” Kilniara pondered with a frown.

“When a baby dies in the womb?”

Kilniara snorted, “No. The nine were born. They died very young.”

Joe sat stunned, unable to respond for several moments. In that moment, realization rushed through him and his old history lessons returned to him. Birth rates! But… what about magic? Would they be as bad here? Wouldn’t… but… the poor. They can’t afford healing… and… medicine woul… no… medicine … maybe… but a wealthy person wouldn’t waste time to learn medicine… so… They’d only ever think of magic and magic is for the wealthy. This…

The realization washed through him and he began reevaluating his understanding of the current world in light of this new realization. He grimaced but this new realization was enough to recover his equilibrium and he stood to pace around the room. So… shouldn’t be so shocked … gotta be more callous about death? That’s… Joe’s thoughts were interrupted when Kilniara spoke.

“We should probably head to the clan.”

“Huh?”

“We should probably head to the clan. The clan would likely wish to have news of the dungeon break.”

Joe paused at that, then considered before nodding, “Might be a good idea. Could I do it tomorrow? I’m still so tired.”

Kilniara frowned, “Really? You seem fine right now.”

Joe chuckled softly, “Yeah, but right now I’m just really hyper, probably from lack of sleep. I’ll be OK for a few moments but my exhaustion will return real fast. Even while I’m hyper, I’ll not be able to think clearly to speak well.”

Kilniara continued to frown, “Truly?”

Joe nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be… really tired.”

Kilniara nodded at that, “Then I should go tell Gwenvair so she will not be worried.”

“Oh,” Joe replied, remembering, “OK. Uh… right… umm…” I’ve got… two girlfriends… somehow…

Joe looked back up at Kilniara, eyes searching her face carefully. She’s… OK? Right? “That… seems like a good idea?”

Kilniara smiled then chuckled, “She would love to see you.”

“And you?”

“Of course. I miss her immensely. But if you are exhausted, you can stay. I will let her know you returned safely.”

Joe thought for a bit before sighing, “Maybe if I just visit Gwenvair. You’ll have to make sure to help me so I’m not … wasted or too out of it. I’m not sure I’ll be able to really talk with the Matriarch or the clan, though; especially if it’s some kind of official clan thing.”

Kilniara smiled at that, “I’ll help you.”

Joe smiled back, chuckling a bit at her joy, “Right. Let’s head out while I’m still hyper enough to hold a decent conversation.”

Kilniara nodded, seeming to take his suggestion a bit too seriously but Joe was too tired really to explain so they prepared and headed out, Joe still at least taking his spear and shield with him, too spooked not to go armed. Joe walked easily enough on the way to the inner clan, his energy strong but as they came upon the inner clan gate, he felt his energy flagging and struggled to keep focus on what was happening. Soon, he found himself simply following after Kilniara’s lead, his day a daze of intermittent clear moments interspersed with long moments lost from memory. The day became a series of key moments flashing in awareness, strobing into his consciousness.

Suddenly, he found himself in a grand hall. Uh… wha?... where… oh… the clan audience hall… why… that’s not the Matriarch.

* * *

Kilniara stood in the grand hall nervously at the side of Joe, her eyes darting around the room. The Matriarch was nowhere to be found, and another sat in her seat. Overclan representative? There was one… in town, right? Or someone… She had no understanding of what was happening, but her sense of uncertainty left her fear spiking. What really left her deeply concerned was not seeing Gwenvair or her mother anywhere. Kilniara looked at Joe, his exhaustion having incapacitated him and she now greatly regretted the decision to come. It was too late, however, as the city clan had called her in to stand before them. Seeing the Matriarch replaced did not bring her any peace.

“Why have you come before us?” the young man waved in boredom

Kilniara struggled to maintain her equilibrium even as she sought her words, bitterness well hidden as she wished to throw the very question back in return. She bowed to take up time while she struggled to find any meaningful reply. Nothing really came to mind and so she fell back on the truth.

“The eccentric Joe is here to see his Queen, Gwenvair.”

This brought the young man’s sharp attention and he leaned forward to stare at Joe, “This … is the eccentric? Bring my sister.”

A servant to the side acknowledged the Patriarch’s command to bring Gwenvair, “Yes, Patriarch.”

Kilniara echoed his reply almost simultaneously while she bowed again, “Yes, Patriarch.” Gwenvair’s brother? Then… what about…

When she rose, the man's face snarled with pleased pride, his arrogant smile not one to bring any peace.

“Yes, I… the Patriarch was curious of the eccentric. Why is he… like this?”

Kilniara struggled to keep her face neutral, “He is exhausted.”

“Exhausted? How so? It has been one of the quietest dungeon breaks Coushar has ever experienced.”

Yes, because he protected the advanced dungeon alone! Kilniara shrieked back in her mind but held her fear and bitterness in an iron grip. She continued without any revelation of her thoughts.

“He defended against the advanced dungeon, Patriarch.”

The Patriarch seemed surprised, “I did not hear that the dungeon broke? Did it? Several adventurers fled in fear, but, I had heard the soldiers felled no beasts.”

Kilniara nodded, “The eccentric killed them all alone. For three days. He is quite exhausted.”

Kilniara’s statement shattered the hall, the quiet whispers and soft susurrus of movement instantly vanished as the audience hall fell into true silence. Kilniara noticed little of this, her skills amongst clanners inept to understand the ramifications, but her knowledge of people let her know they crowd was shocked. She remained standing, as was her right as wife to an eccentric, but found the pressure to become subservient ever more difficult. That… the Patriarch… is afraid? No…?

Gwenvair entered the room, her eyes puffy red and Kilniara grew agitated, her desire to seek her out almost overwhelming propriety. She did look to her for a time, eyes searching each other as Kilniara sought out why Gwenvair was in pain. She stretched out, struggling to Hear, and what she did Hear, had her flinching away at the deep pain. Her eyes went back to the Patriarch, her face smoothing even more.

The Patriarch watched this, then slowly grinned, “He defended the advanced dungeon alone?”

Kilniara bowed again, answering firmly, although in the movement when she was hidden from the Patriarch, she looked to Gwenvair, catching her eyes, “Yes, Patriarch.”

The man settled back, seeming quite interested but also struggling with some fear. The fear seemed to anger the Patriarch and he stood with a growl before stomping down the stairs upon which the clan seat sat. As he walked down, several of his guards quickly called out to him but he waved them away in anger.

He’d made it about half way down the stairs before suddenly stopping and staring with wide eyes before walking forward much more confidently, laughter beginning to spill out. It was a deep, throaty laughter of deep contentment, but Kilniara shivered under it as all she felt was a malevolent glee. His laughter ended but his grin was voracious.

“I claim the eccentric as my slave,” he stated triumphantly, gleeful in his shout.

Kilniara blinked, confusion the first emotion to wash through her. Claim? He would be foolish enough … Joe would never allow himself to be claimed or enslaved… Horror quickly overwhelmed her confusion while shock shuddered through her. All time stopped as her gaze finally fell upon Joe with fear and terror. Her eyes landed on his first, as they always did. They were barely held open due to his exhaustion, but she held no desire to gaze into their depths. She immediately darted her gaze down his face to his neck. There, a bronze necklace slowly glazed to incredibly shiny silver even as she watched. Fear shuddered through her as what she saw explained the Patriarch’s statements. Her heart stuttered, fear sweeping through her before she glanced back up at him. His cruel sneer remained locked on Joe, but she found herself stunned. Her gaze turned to Gwenvair but saw only collapsing hope folding into despair as Gwenvair struggled to keep her face stoic. When she looked back at the Patriarch again, he was looking at her with gleeful malice.

“Has he had you?”

Kilniara stared at him, shock leaving her speechless for a moment but also removing any ability to cautiously consider her words, “No.”

For the first time, the Patriarch seemed surprised, but his shock was only replaced by an even crueler grin, “Do you seek to remain his?”

Kilniara froze at that, her eyes stuttering around the room before locking on Gwenvair who stared at her in fearful despair. Gwenvair caught her eyes for a quick moment and quickly, shallowly, shook her head no. Kilniara stuttered at that, uncertain of what Gwenvair was saying then sought out her sister in desperation, Hearing with all she had. The effort blinded her to her surroundings, and she almost missed the Patriach’s second question, but the effort proved fruitful and Gwenvair’s thoughts flowed into her, a hammer battering against her mind. She returned in just enough time to catch the Patriarch’s next question.

“I offer you … myself,” the Patriarch grinned with malice, flicking his eyes towards Joe then frowning.

Kilniara struggled to understand the Patriarch’s mood swings but the realization hit her hard. He wants… to crush? Mock? Just… rub it in? On Joe? Why… Her thoughts skittered to a halt when he looked back at her.

“Well?”

Kilniara quickly stifled her thoughts and bowed slightly, “A year and a day, as is the contract required, and I will be yours.”

The Patriarch’s smile wiped from his face, the snarl twitching at the corner of his lips barely restrained as he rose up with great anger. The anger almost immediately disappeared when he glanced over at Joe and then began laughing uproariously. Kilniara blinked. Why...? Terror flooded through her when she realized Joe stood beside her now, his exhaustion forgotten and she turned to look at him. Fear and worry gnawed at her but Gwenvair’s thoughts hammered into her, Kilnaira was still Hearing… somehow.

Peace! Peace! Do not show fear! Don’t… you must… Gwenvair’s whispered words faded as she looked up to see Joe’s horrified face, despair twisted by betrayal.

* * *

Joe lolled at Kilniara’s side, his exhaustion robbing him of thought once again until he realized where they were. His awareness returned to him slowly when he heard loud laughter and he looked up to see the young man that seemed to now be running things. A pinch on his neck slapped him just a tiny bit more aware and he found himself looking around. Where’s… Matriarch… but… where’s… His thoughts dazed and his gaze searched across the room seeking out the Matriarch or Gwenvair. Gwenvair? Gwenvair… Where… His eyes found her and her red puffy eyes yanked him back in the moment. He stood, awareness pounding back into him and he found himself looking around to understand what he was seeing; to know where he was.

Joe’s thoughts were interrupted.

“Will you be my… wife?”

Joe blinked with some confusion. Really? Dude? With Kilniara? The man attempting to hustle Kilniara stared over at him for a moment then frowned. Why are you frowning!? You’re literally trying to take my girlfriend away from me… right in front of me… seriously? You are an idiot. Why do you think…

Joe’s thoughts stuttered to a halt like a train slamming into an immovable steel block. His thoughts simply ended and he found himself gaping in shock and horror as he turned to Kilniara.

“An engagement of a year and a day, as is traditional, and then we will be wed.”

Kilniara’s statement robbed Joe of all other thought, horror sweeping through him even as the betrayal ripped out his heart and left him utterly dead. All feeling of any kind evaporated and was replaced by despair. Despair drowned under a tsunami of rage. Then rage evaporated and nothing was left. His mind fled any thought, seeking only retreat.

Kilniara looked up at him and for a moment, Joe almost thought fear or worry flickered through her eyes, and Joe quickly schooled his face. Voices echoed in the background, whole conversations occurring but Joe heard nothing, only shock remaining. Time seemed to stand still, Kilniara frozen in his focus even as all the people around them skittered like angry insects, rushing in a fast forward insanity as the world sped around him.

Kilniara turned from him and walked slowly towards the throne. She strode up it in a dignified manner before coming to stand behind and to the side of the throne. Beside her, Gwenvair stared down at him with a stony face, although she seemed to have been crying. Why… what happened? Gwenvair looked away from him, her eyes raising above his head, aloofly turning away. Odd thoughts flickered through his mind. Kilniara is so… beau… where did Gwenvair get that dress? Kilniara… where are you go… Why are they… His thoughts wandered without control, flitting from idea to idea without completing one even as he seemed to only feel one thing, emptiness. His very being ripped from him and only the skin of his being was left, an empty blown up doll of a man pretending to still be whole.

During all this, the world clamored, but he noticed nothing. He stared up at Kilniara and Gwenvair until a finger stabbed into him and looked down to see the young man staring up at him with malicious glee even as he slammed a finger into his chest. It felt like nothing.

“What,” his reply was flat.

“Cores. Bring me cores. That is your lot in life, now.”

Anger surged but he clamped down upon it with titanic will. A twinge settled down from his neck and he twisted his neck to stretch it. He snorted and shook his head before turning and walking away. Seriously? Who does he think he is… the little…

“Hey! You will not walk from me without proper obeisance! Return to me and hear my command! You will know your pla…” the man trailed off, his eyes widening slightly as a grin formed when Joe turned around.

Rage surged, breaking any bonds of control he had left and Joe walked back towards him, no urgency in his steps and very much unconcerned with the pissant’s demands. As he walked, his rage instantaneously cooled, crystalizing to absolute zero as all emotion vanished for nothing could move in the depths of his frozen will he’d gripped his heart in. The man, however, took it as a sign that Joe was obeying him.

“That’s more like it! It’s time to listen to your mast… erk!”

The man’s voice cut off when Joe slammed his palm into the pissant’s neck before wrapping his fist tightly around the man’s neck and lifting him off the ground. Somehow, he didn’t even feel the weight of the man. However, his neck flared with the strain of lifting the idiot, muscles spasming as pain shuddered up his neck and down into his chest but he cared little for the cramp, his anger driving him on even to the ruin of his own body. Huh… maybe not as easy to lift him up. He pulled the idiot in close and growled out his barely held rage.

“Shut the fuck up, pissant! I care little to nothing for you. Kilniara may choose for herself as she may, but you have no claim or authority over me. Back off, or you might not like where my rage will lead!”

The man flailed wildly for a few moments then struggled to speak out, his voice coming out as grunting efforts through his clamped windpipe.

“Un…hand… me…”

Joe didn’t let him continue, “Shh! Shhh!!! I said shhh! It’s time for the men to talk. Little boys like you should shut up and listen. You are an idiot; an utter moron. You are lucky that I choose to restrain myself. Ah ah ah!!! I said shut up! You really might want to hear the next part because if you keep pushing it, I will rip your spine out of your asshole and leave your head buried in your own anus! Right… ok… good… now shut up… and listen!

“I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. But, if I hear even the slightest harm has come to Kilniara, I will take my spear, shove it up your ass, and leave you dangling in the air as you slowly slide down on it, impaling yourself while you struggle to keep my spear from climbing ever further up your ass. Do. You. Understand! No… no! You will shut up. I only want to hear one word from you. Just one. Do. You. Understand?”

“Uuhh…err… yes…”

“Excellent. It seems we have an understanding. Now. Run along to your room and cry like a little baby. I have things to do.”

Joe shoved the man away from himself, the cold emptiness he had felt before now overwhelmed by rage at what the man had done. The idiot flew through the air a good two or three meters before crashing to the ground and Joe snarled as the pain in his neck spiked. Man… really need to stretch more carefully… I guess… must have been pretty stiff even if I only had a short nap.

Joe turned and stomped from the room. Before the doors, a wall of spearmen held the line but Joe didn’t stop, simply stomping forward before sweeping aside a few of the spears and walking inside their reach. The men were terrified and his casual sweeping of the spears to the side was enough to scatter them, those directly in front of him fled. He slammed into the doors, a loud boom echoing through the hallways before the doors finally slid open enough for him to slip out.

He moved steadily, his normal easy walk now an enraged stomp but his rage was rapidly fading and a deep desire to simply run flooded through him. All around him, clanners stared at him and their gaze was enough to keep his rage smoldering slightly, just barely enough to hold his despair at bay. It didn’t stop his stomping gait from increasing slightly, but he was able to hold back his tears until he got through the clan gate. After the gate, they trailed down his deadpan face, his tears ignored and his emotions still under tight control.

It all broke when he finally closed the door of his room behind him. No one was at the inn, everyone still scattered to the inner clans as the dungeon breaks were cleaned up. No one heard the howls of despairing pain. Exhaustion came for him quickly, however, and he fell asleep curled up against the door of his room. He woke sometime in the night with aches across his body and he had only enough awareness to fall into his bed and back to sleep. He did not wake for a long, long time.

* * *

Gunlan stared after the eccentric in stuttering fear. He lay on the ground as the eccentric pounded through his guards and out the door with an ease only eccentrics were capable of. His fear remained only until long after the eccentric had escaped the hall and his rage erupted in a blind fury.

“Eeeaaaaarrrrgh!”

His roar echoed through the room for some time until he finally turned, staring at those around him. Seeing his guard scattered, his rage turned towards them but a soft noise had him whip around to stare at the one who’d dare interrupt him.

“You! You!” his new whore concubine had shuffled near his seat and he stomped towards the stairs before the fear of what the eccentric had said to him returned and he came to a stuttering halt only to rage again. His eyes darted around the room, seeking out someone to blame, but the door guards had all long fled and his eyes whipped around the room seeking vengeance. His gaze landed on Gwenvair. His rage flared. His Queen! He is MINE! What is HIS is MINE! HE… Fear slammed back into him and he snarled before pointing at Gwenvair. I can easily justify it now…

“The slave’s Queen is mine! An unbound Queen will sell well! Collar the Queen and sell her in the capital! Return with the proceeds!”

A soft ‘yes’ was all he sought even as gasps and sobs burbled out around the room before he stormed from the audience hall in a rage. The man will pay! He will pay! The soft mantra echoed in his mind, but under it all, an ocean of fear proved that he would never confront the man again.

Behind him, Gwenvair sobbed while his whore concubine blubbered. He cared little, his effort to break the man proved futile. He had no desire to continue any meaningless audiences. The people could burn! They lived to serve him!

* * *

Kilniara shuffled beside Gwenvair as she was led away to the slave pens. Despair rippled through her even as pain shredded her heart. The last look of betrayal on Joe’s face left her own heart a tattered mess but she walked with calm equanimity until they’d passed several corridors. A pounding headache accompanied each step as her struggle to Hear Gwenvair left her head ever tenderer, the pain doubled by Gwenvair’s own Hearing efforts and the phantom echo of Gwenvair’s own pain returned through the Hearing. Despite the pain, she clung to the Hearing, desperate to hear Gwenvair.

* * *

In a dark corner of an alleyway, Zilnek crowded into a small crate seeking warmth even as he shivered. Fear crawled throughout him, especially with the news of the eccentrics return. He had no avenue of escape, nor any meaningful place to hide; and his now black status left him without friends nor a safe escape from the city. Zilnek cried softly to himself, falling asleep late into the night.

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