* * *

Thamnerlun Metalgrapple stumped into the audience hall to meet the Patriarch whelp with annoyed dissatisfaction. The boy has already made me wait so long and delayed my efforts by far too much… and that Presence earlier… The Presence that had come did not worry Thamnerlun too much, although its power had been absolutely terrifying. Still, a single Presence coming to a city was not unheard of, great cultivators often had the power to envelope cities in their Presence. This power, however, did give him pause and he found himself on edge and considering his stay within the city of Coushar. A single Presence… is not… but its strength…

He stumped up towards the massive throne and came to a halt before the Patriarch whelp, “News?”

The Patriarch had been smiling with ingratiating smarminess but the smile dropped and Thamnerlun cursed his shortness. Speech was a thing he rarely exercised and found even less need to explore. He had not wished to insult the brat, and could only hope things would go well. The whelp’s returned brilliant smile gave him comfort, hopeful of good news.

“It is good news, master smith! We have found the one responsible for discovering the cure for the breeder curse.”

Thamnerlun’s face did not shift even an iota as his heart leapt for joy and he found himself ecstatic in his reply, “Who?”

The Patriarch’s smile shifted, going in a direction Thamnerlun could not understand but somehow bothered the dwarf, “He is my slave.”

“Hmm,” Thamnerlun nodded, “Where?”

“There is no need to concern yourself with that. You can come. We have prepared a villa for you here while you pay off your life debt. There is much work to be done and we will inform you of your debtor’s demands and requests. You can work of your debt while you rest comfortably in our clan. You will find…”

Thamnerlun’s eyes had narrowed further as he listened to the whelp’s flowery speech and while he took longer to understand, his brother’s rage behind him was quick to inform him of what the whelp was doing. His arm snapped out to capture his brother’s elbow and he held him in place.

“No! Who!”

“I have told you. He is my slave. And I will inform you of my slave’s demands as you rest within…”

“No! Who!”

Thamnerlun was interrupted by a growl of rage to his side, “You wish to do this, boy! A dwarf’s life debt is not to be a toy nor to be toyed with! Who is the debtor and remove yourself from our presence. I find the stench vomitus!”

The whelp struggled to control his rage, as he rose to stare down, “Who are you to speak to m…”

“My brother! Is right! Where? Who!?”

The Patriarch shivered in overpowering rage while staring down at the three of them before his face suddenly shifted from tumultuous rage straight to a gloating glee, “You have no need to know. You may rest here or you may leave, but you will not have access to your life debt except through me, here!”

“You meddle foolish boy! You meddle badly!” his brother growled out in anger.

Thamnerlun squeezed his brother’s elbow and stared at the boy with annoyed frustration.

* * *

Gunlan stared down upon the two dwarves and struggled to hold in his vicious glee. Beside him, his advisor struggled to catch his attention, desperate clutches at his side and agreed upon signals rapidly waved at him in such a way as those in the audience could not see. He cared not. He would have these dwarves and they would bend to his will. He waited to see how they would respond, certain it would only be a matter of time. Life debts were not ignored by dwarves, and he held theirs. They would be his as soon as they learned their place. Mayhap they need some time to consider. I wonder…

A messenger quickly came into the side, nodding to Gunlan once. Gunlan narrowed his eyes and the messenger offered a signal of importance and Gunlan decided to take the chance. An excellent way to allow these two dwarves to stew…

“Apologies, master smith,” Gunlan offered unctuously, “I have need to see to other duties. Please inform me of your decision at a later time.”

Gunlan’s smile turned vicious after he turned to leave. Mine! Two master smiths… mine! His gleeful thoughts were interrupted when the advisor that had been desperately calling for his attention slipped up to his side and quickly began to whisper to him, the urgency of his voice turning his whisper into an almost shout.

He ignored the advisor and turned to the messenger, “What is the report?”

The messenger bowed his head and the advisor fell silent while the messenger offered his report, “The slave master calls for you, Patriarch, at the Gate. He has the eccentric.”

Gunlan’s smile turned absolutely feral in its glee but then vanished when the advisor butted in with the new silence.

“Patriarch! You cannot stand between a dwarf and his life debt! It will ruin us! The clan will fall to nothing. Please. Inform the dwarve…”

“Enough! These dwarves are mine. I … I hold their life debt. They will pay it off, and they will pay it off fully!”

“Patriarch! The dwarves will not accept su…”

“The dwarves have no choice! If they want their life debt paid, they must bow to my will! They will learn in time.”

“Sire. The dwarven underholds will not allow thi…”

“Advisor, you are…”

Gunlan goggled as the advisor interrupted him in a frenzy, “Sire. It has never been done before as the dwarves would…”

Rage crawled over his face as he turned to face the advisor. The advisor’s eyes widened in fear and he stopped, taking a step back.

“Never been done before?! Then the first to do so is a genius! I will be that genius, not some fool fearful of nothing.

“The dwarven underholds…” the advisor began with a whisper, fearful.

“Enough! I own their man. I own their life debt. The dwarven underholds will do nothing.

“Sire…”

“Enough! Or I will remove your tongue!”

The advisor shrank back in fear, pressing up against the wall of the hallway they were walking in and remained there as Gunlan marched away. He ignored the advisor and turned to the guard that strode by his side, “We make for the gate. Do not allow the dwarves to follow.”

“Yes, Patriarch,” the guard saluted quickly, then turned to the rear and directed two guards. Gunlan returned to his good humor. And Eccentric… and dwarven master smiths!

His glee didn’t abate even as he escaped clan grounds into the inner city and marched towards the gate. His prize awaited training.

* * *

Thamnerlun held his rage deep within, the forge hard and strong enough to stand against the heat of it. He took a deep breath and squeezed his brother’s elbow. The brat stalked from the room and Thamnerlun almost considered marching directly after him, but the dozens of guards in the room gave him pause, and he finally turned away and marched from the audience hall, this time uncaring of the doors. The doors swung wide and slammed hard against the walls, one even shattering, but the brat had chosen the fool’s bargain, and he would receive it in full.

His brother and daughter scrambled after him, his brother blathering on as he always did, although now with more meaningful observations over the foolish whelp’s actions. He remained silent, thoughtful. The marched from the massive audience hall into the beautiful garden that fronted it out into the clan grounds. He marched towards the large road that led to the clan gate and as he did so, he noticed a small entourage of people including the whelp Patriarch marching ahead of him towards the gate as well. Thamnerlun narrowed his eyes, then began to grin. The whelp … will he lead me to the life debt? Or…

Thamnerlun would not usually engage in such petty and foolish behavior. He had no knowledge of where the Patriarch was going and no way to know if the life debt lay at the end of such road. But, his anger burned, and this had to do with his daughter. He would take whatever the heavens might provide, so he did exactly that, sidling in behind the marching Patriarch.

His brother continued to mumble and complain against the foolish boy, “… then the fool picks a fight with all dwar… is that the Patriarch?”

Thamnerlun grunted a laughing huff, “Hmm.”

“And you follow him,” Thamnerlun could hear the grin in his brother’s voice as he scrambled around behind him to come to his side.

“Yes.”

“What will we find?”

Thamnerlun looked at his brother with a feral grin and said nothing before looking back at the Patriarch. His brother laughed and clapped a hand on Thamnerlun’s shoulder, and soon the three dwarves were very poorly stalking after the Patriarch.

Their efforts, however, came to a unpleasant end when they arrived at the gate and the Patriarch slipped out past the gate, turning to the right. Thamnerlun was not able to continue on, two guards coming to a stop before them.

“Apologies, master smith. You will have to wait a time, sir.”

Thamnerlun glared up at the guard in a rage and the guard actually seemed rather terrified and Thamnerlun calmed. He did take a step to the side, but another guard got in his way. They danced in this way for another few moments until Thamnerlun froze, consternation flickering across his face and an anxious fear beginning to curdle in his heart. A soft flutter barely felt and barely noticed spread across the entire city in a wave. It was almost unnoticeable except that he’d felt it before at least once.

Terror flooded through him in a tsunami and he turned to the clan guard, “Where Gate?”

“Huh?”

“The Gate! WHERE!” Thamnerlun reached up and gripped the guards collar, pulling him close.

The guard stared at Thamnerlun in startled shock even as his brother suddenly crouched and stared around the area, weaponry coming to his hand in a flash. Terror struck all other guards in the area as they stepped back except for the one Thamnerlun held in his grasp.

That guard replied with stammering fear while pointing, “That… over…that way!”

Thamnerlun glanced in the direction the guard pointed and cursed internally, his lips flattening even as a bitter scowl flushed his face twisting in fear. The god’s shaved beard! We cannot go that way, that is where HE is. Two … in a single day… this city is cursed. We must flee, but the Gate is…

“Enough! We leave.”

Thamnerlun pushed the guards to the side and the man tumbled back even as he marched through the hole he’d made. The other guards flourished their weaponry, but when he ignored them and his brother leapt forward to his side, all the guards remained in tense position watching him pass. He cared not. It was time to leave, and he had no desire to stay here further, life debt or no. His daughter could not remain here.

The guards parted before him as his daughter scampered in behind him and his brother maintained vigilant guard, as always. The passed under the wall, stepping out of the tunnel into the bright light of the inner wealthy city. The streets were much more crowded than they should be, but all simply stood together in whispered wonder. They had not felt the second Presence and he had no desire to wait. If anything, he feared he was too late.

His eyes scanned the wall to the outer city, the only exit now available as far as he knew, and quickly caught sight of the hint of a gate, the stairs running the side of the wall to the top a hint that a gate likely was there. Three… one directly in front… we go!

Thamnerlun began stomping down the center of the main massive road leading to the entrance of the clan. His stomping steps slowly increased to a jog and his brother came to his side in amazement.

“Running?”

“We run. Now.”

His brother’s eyebrows knit in confusion but he stared down at his brother with a searching gaze. What he saw there gave him pause, then pushed him forward quickly. However, a third Presence swept out, easily felt by all, and his brother immediately understood.

“We run.”

They ran for a few moments before his brother spoke again with a growl, “How many? I counted two.”

“Three.”

His brother cursed and only ran faster.

Good brother… Thamnerlun, his brother, and his daughter thumped down the center of the main street leading away from the clan. Nobody knows yet, but the panic likely should arrive soon. We must escape that first Presence. Now.

* * *

That first Presence stepped through the Gate into the city of Coushar and the Dao of Shadow welled up all around, immediately searching the area for threat even as it covered and surrounded him. The Shadow Dao prison captain immediately did the second thing he always did, blasting his Presence out with a soft caress that almost no other ever noticed. It pierced the city but nothing of meaningful merit showed itself. A single very weak cultivator showed, and while that was rather unusual for the cradle, the captain dismissed it immediately, his desire for perfect cores of much greater importance than some weak cultivator eking out a poor existence in the poor quarters.

That did give him pause for a moment, however, and his thoughts turned towards the conundrum of why a cultivator would be so poor, but considering the man’s weakness, he allowed himself to not be concerned by it, his desire for a perfect core greatly outweighing a stinky beggar in the poor sector. He did pass his presence close once again, feeling a subtle oddity that was too far away to grasp before completely dismissing the man. A beggar and a slave. Ha! The fool! And the oddity likely his stench!

Green wind swirled around him as his fellow captain stepped through, her Wind Dao warpping out much further than his Shadow ever could, but her Presence that swept out was a hammer to his silk, and all felt it. The soft muttering of all around turned to startled fear, but he cared little for any of it.

“Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“The clan then?”

She grinned and nodded, “Seems it.”

He nodded and both leapt into the air, quickly flying up and over the buildings and continuing to arc through the air before they passed the inner clan wall and glided down to the clan grounds, the wide open space of green with small copses of trees offering a beautiful place. She offered her opinion.

“Quite beautiful… for mortals and a prison.”

He grunted and said nothing, dismissing the efforts of mortals. Little to no dao of any kind graced the grounds and it was a desert as all lands on this cradle were. He sighed and began striding across the grounds towards the obvious audience hall.

“Oh. Are you still worried about that might Presence from before?”

The man turned to her with a scathing look and a grimace, “That was unprecedented.”

“Yes, but little we can do.”

“You do the reporting to superiors then.”

She laughed brightly and shook her head, “I submit to your superior Dao in the Way of reporting.”

He snorted, almost laughing but then souring once again. That Presence that had swept the whole cradle had been humbling, and terrifying. And his grumpy disposition was the only thing that hid the fear that twisted through him.

* * *

Gwenvair was incredibly proud, only a just new Queen and already receiving two requests. She was certain she would have to be cautious and incredibly critical of any requests. But so soon... The others still packed but had now stopped questioning her and with it, she was able to get things packed away rather quickly. However, they came to help, as they should, and she found herself enjoying the company of their work. She joined them for a time, but then decided to be cautious and turn to Hearing.

She settled into deep meditation, preparing her heart to Hear the wishes of the group. Heh… the group! She shivered to know that Kilniara and her were allowed to have such a powerful impact upon their team, and she focused once again, prepared to Hear. Xylarnae requests admittance. I seek enlightenment in regards to her request. She settled in, allowing the concept to meld into their oneness and she heard back an immediate agreement of joy from Kilniara and smiled at the exuberance the spirit of her friend exhibited. She would never know of this, Gwenvair, as Queen, unique in being able to plumb the depths of their oneness to seek truth deeper than even thought. Still, the happy reply reminded her of a bouncing ball and exactly of Kilniara.

She continued her wait, and began to frown as no response came from the core of their oneness, the spirit of Joe seemingly unresponsive. She requested again, expressing more clearly her intent and finally received a slow tepid response, one that was a measured confusion and request for clarity. Gwenvair grew concerned at that, wondering why he could not understand but respectfully explained. Conversation of the spirit is a strange thing, not truly of words or any form of communication Gwenvair could readily explain or compare it to, but more of impressions and feelings. It was also almost impossible to be duplicitous. It was not a thing of the mind, but of souls and depths.

She revealed understanding slowly, offering what it would mean and the results. The response was, odd. Joe’s spirit seemed confused, and she continued being transparent in her explanation. He wasn’t really rejecting, seeming to have a certain positive impression of Xylarnae, but was incredibly cautious, desiring more explanation. She replied to his desire, and revealed more of what was wanted and the implications. As the revelations continued, Joe remained ever cautious but willing to explore, not truly rejecting but seemingly just not understanding, continually demanding more and more explanation. When the explanation finally proved enough, the response was overwhelming and immediate. She opened her eyes in shock. Why… OK. Not Xylarnae… but… Very certain of that… but why not Xylarnae? She thought on it then dismissed it, continuing on.

She returned once again, asking after Kalia but this time Joe’s response, while slow, was immediate and adamant, just as his response to Xylarnae was. He was absolute in his rejection of both. She frowned a bit, grimacing but then sighed. Well… not a problem. We need to be selective, so…

The two were rejected, and that was all that mattered, although she was saddened by it and Gwenvair sensed that Kilniara would be pretty unhappy but as Queen her duty and responsibility was to her new family now and she found the result abrupt but also enlightening and incredibly … empowering. I see Joe’s vision for this… only with all in agreement… She smiled. She liked the two, finding them both kind and agreeable, but… could understand Joe’s reluctance. He hardly knew them. However, their melding as a new family allowed each to understand one another in ways that were deeply personal and uniquely one and he should have known them as well as she did, at least within his spirit.

Obviously, he knew something she did not with the rejection, so she could only accept it. The only burden now was to offer their rejection to the two. While she’d often rejected other offers and overtures in her position as the First in Line as Matriarch, learning well under her moth… Gwenvair paused, taking a deep shuddering breath, fear and worry stuttering through her. She took another breath, and finally calmed, remembering Joe’s promise. Things will be well. Joe… Joe promised. Things would be well…

A soft cough drew Gwenvair’s attention back to the room and she looked up to see Xylarnae and Kalia speaking quietly while Stephliquen recovered on her another sofa. She was exploring her status, seemingly as fascinated by it as Joe had been, exploring it with as much interest and skill as he had. With her interest and returned focus on the others, Kalia and Xylarnae turned towards her while Stephliquen simply ignored them beyond glancing towards Gwenvair.

So… I’ve denied requests before… but this… seems harder, it’s… She wrestled with her emotions on this, attempting to understand why when it suddenly came to her. It’s… personal now… The idea was foreign to her, but she immediately accepted it, understanding the meaning.

She settled herself to speak to the two. They seemed to notice quickly, her gaze upon them, and they both turned to her. Their turning to her seemed to catch Stephliquen’s attention as well and while she obviously couldn’t understand, it caught her interest for a time before dismissing them and returning to her playing with her status. Gwenvair smiled to see it before also turning back to the other two.

“I have Heard.”

That seemed to catch their attention firmly, and they both nodded back, Xylarnae seeming the most invested in the answer. Gwenvair struggled to keep her disappointment in check and nodded to both of them.

“My sister and I are more than willing to accept you for trial, however … Joe is… firm.”

Xylarnae took the news with complete shock, staring at her stunned, uncertain how to respond. Hope was crushed and desperation quickly replaced it, and she was up pacing the floor, actually beginning to chew on her nails.

Kalia seemed deeply offended, staring at her in a low burning rage at being rejected, “He… rejected me?”

Gwenvair stared at her with concern before nodding softly, “Yes.”

“Not you? Not your other… sisters?”

“I have only one and no, we did not reject you. He did.”

“HE… rejected ME?!”

Gwenvair nodded, “I… yes… I’m sorry.”

Kalia stomped through the room in a rage, Xylarnae in fretting fear. Xylarnae was silent in her worry while Kalia was loud and demanding, shocked she would be rejected.

“Are you certain… HE rejected me?”

“Yes?” Gwenvair grew uncertain.

“You asked him?”

“I asked his soul.”

That brought her up short, her breath going deep even as she almost staggered back after standing to her full height. Gwenvair struggled to hold her place, the echo of … something pressing down upon her, but it was an obvious shadow of what once was. The shadow, however, was enough to leave her ungrounded, unable to understand what she was feeling or noticing, but utterly terrified.

It faded with Kalia whipping about face as she returned to the bed and sat on it, but only for a moment before she stood and then sat, and then stood once again, so agitated she could not remain seated. Gwenvair remained desperately silent and still, now certain that Kalia was once a force to be reckoned with.

Kalia continued her agitation: standing, sitting, pacing, and regularly marching back to her to demand if Joe had really rejected her. Gwenvair could understand, in some small way; she could almost be the personification of beauty. Despite that, Gwenvair remained adamant as it was what she heard, and it was her family’s wish.

Xylarnae suddenly stopped her pacing and turned to look at Gwenvair with pleading eyes, “Could you… ask… once more?”

Gwenvair’s placid face, a shield against Kalia’s anger, broke and a sad smile came to her lips, “I’m sorry. He was… quite certain.

Xylarnae halted at that, glancing at Kalia a few times, then back to Gwenvair, worry gnawing it her in such an obvious way Gwenvair could almost see it laid heavy across her burdened back. She almost decided to end the conversation there; Joe’s certainty would not change, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she waited.

Xylarnae finally spoke, “I… I am one of the strongest Fated… amongst all fated.”

Gwenvair’s eyes went up at that, “That…”

She almost reconsidered but frowned and shook her head. A Fated amongst them would be a great boon and a Fated in what Joe hoped to build would be… Her breathing hitched even as she realized the implications of what Xylarnae would bring to the family. She considered again… carefully, then firmed her heart. While Xylarnae may not be available, she would seek out a Fated immediately for it could only be to their benefit. Xylarnae watched her carefully, easily noting her thoughts and knew immediately that Gwenvair had still rejected her.

Her desperation grew and she stepped forward rapidly in agitation, “I… I am…”

She paused and looked at Kalia with fear in her eyes, then looked back at Gwenvair, worry warring with desperation. Her sighs shifted to a soft panting and Gwenvair watched on, her curiosity growing but her worry for a friend overcoming it.

“Xylarnae. We can still be friends, you do not…”

Xylarnae stepped forward, “You don’t understand, I… please.”

Gwenvair struggled to keep pity from her face, “He is certain of his…”

Xylarnae interrupted, “I am one of the greatest Fated, if not the greatest in the past ten Great Cycles.”

Kalia’s head whipped around to look at Xylarnae, her shock absolute enough that it utterly interrupted her rage, eyes wide with a gaping mouth, “Strongest in Great Cycles?”

Xylarnae stared at Gwenvair with a pleading look that was absolutely unnecessary. If she was almost convinced before, she didn’t even wait now. She nodded even as she immediately closed her eyes and turned back to her family’s spirit. She delved into their oneness and sought out Joe once again, this time much more quickly describing the benefits, very frank in her explanations. Joe had been open when she began, but when the implications of what she was asking were grasped by Joe’s spirit, the rejection was once again immediate and firm. Gwenvair paused at that, noticing no difference in the rejection, the promise of such great Fate utterly unappealing to him. Gwenvair found his rejection both honorable but also irritating. Such a great opportunity lost. She sighed and looked up at Xylarnae with a sad smile and shook her head.

Xylarnae grew more desperate and Kalia’s shock grew, stunned that Joe would reject Xylarnae and her great power. Xylarnae didn’t dither this time. She did glance at Kalia one more time before firming herself once again and turning to stare at Gwenviare with a mixture of panic, worry, and stark terror.

“I’m Qoln!”

Gwenvair leapt to her feet, any shock and greed to have such a powerful Fated one in her family evaporated before the utter need for a Qoln. Kalia, however, actually took steps towards Xylarnae, hands out stretched with naked greed on her face. Xylarnae stared between the two in dread.

* * *

Joe came to, staring up at the sky outside the villa and groaned, “Where… what?”

“I am Kainaro, your slave master hired to train you by your master. Obey and follow.”

A massive weight slammed down upon his shoulders and Joe grunted, grimacing. And how do I verify that, buddy. You might be a thief… The weight evaporated and Joe rolled to his feet and stood, looking at the man. Wait! That guy at the inn… commanding me around! He tried to take me away!

“I know you… I think I was pretty clear about things!” Joe growled with rage as he stomped angrily towards the man, “I told you, I do not…”

The man raised a strange device and pointed it at Joe. Joe’s mind shattered like broken glass, his thought processes ripped apart and evaporating into blackness.

* * *

Gwenvair stared at Xylarnae, the supposed Qoln, heart thundering even as the shock lanced through her mind. Gwenvair’s breathing increased, as rapid as Kalia’s and Kalia pulled back from her greedy lunge towards Xylarnae, staring at Gwenvair with some worry. Gwenvair glanced at the Qoln, Gwenvair’s face stern even as she considered the ramifications. Joe had been adamant, but he would be a fool to reject her. But… to be certain… I should… Kalia interrupted.

“How many?”

Xylarnae stared at her with worry but said nothing, her gaze glancing down to Kalia’s chest then back up at her eyes. Why… Gwenvair glance down as well but saw nothing.

“How many? Two?”

Xylarnae struggled to keep her face placid, but a hint of disdain shown through and Kalia caught it easily, her breath catching, “Three!”

Xylarnae did not respond this time, simply staring. Gwenvair frowned, uncertain of the byplay but was more concerned with gaining a Qoln for their family. So… be certain… proof will … move husband.

“Prove it.” Gwenvair stated flately.

Xylaranae’s face dropped, a bit of despair fighting through, “I… this plane.”

Gwenvair nodded, “Yes, but… rumors of the Qoln are known even here… even if what they are capable of is…”

Xylarane’s despair faded some, hope returning and she nodded, “There are some things… I am capable of.”

“Show me your status as well.”

Xylarnae nodded easily to this and brought up her status without complaint. It shone the common blue and then she looked to Gwenvair with determination.

“What are you capable of?”

“Much, but this plane … limits me greatly. I could… possibly do limbs.”

Gwenvair frowned at that, “How certain?”

“I… it would not be quickly.”

Gwenvair sighed but nodded, “A finger?”

“Easily.”

“And quickly?”

“Before you even realized it.”

Gwenvair nodded and pulled out a dagger she favored while using her knife fighter class. She breathed deeply as she prepared herself and Xylarnae walked up to stand at her side, resting a hand on the shoulder of the hand Gwenvair had chosen, using her right arm on Gwenvair’s left shoulder. Gwenvair held her left had away from her body, holding up the hand for all to see even as she grimaced slightly. She nodded.

Xylarnae stared, and returned her nod, as well as a grimace equal to Gwenvair’s. Gwenvair took her dagger and placed it against her left hand, between her pinky and ring finger. She took several deep breaths and glanced up once again, more to delay than … Kalia watched on with avid focus and greed and even Stephliquen had noticed the odd atmosphere and was staring with curiosity. Gwenvair took another deep breath and committed.

* * *

Stephliquen heard the rapid conversation between the others but when silence came to the room, she looked up and noted the odd mood in the room. Gwenvair had stood, and was staring at Xylarnae with a piercing gaze, while Kalia advanced on her with a strange look of greed. Stephliquen frowned, then turned to face them. They began speaking again, but the mood was incredibly tense.

Xylarnae walked tentatively towards Gwenvair, who pulled a dagger from her belt and Stephliquen stood, concerned. Gwenvair, however, did not turn the dagger on Xylarnae. Instead, she turned it on her own pinky finger of her left hand, placing it between the ring and pinky finger. Time seemed to pause, both Gwenair and Xylarnae appearing agitated. Then, Gwenvair ripped her dagger down hard, sawing it across her pinky and amputating her finger in a bloody and messy display, the finger flew across the room and splattered to the floor. Stephliquen stepped forward in grim determination. She glanced down at the finger then back up again before pausing in utter shock. Gwenvair’s finger was returned, whole and unharmed in anyway. Her gaze turned to look down at the floor in slow horror, seeing the girl’s finger still there on the floor.

* * *

Gwenvair grimaced when her blade sawed across the finger, pain spiking violently into a sharp spike directly into the back of her brain before it suddenly vanished. She’d kept her gaze on the Qoln’s finger and breathed with excitement and some shock to see Xylarnae’s finger evaporate even as her own finger simply returned as if never lost. Xylarnae growled, a half roar of rage mangled by an interrupting whining cry.

“Seriously. You couldn’t have done that cleaner?” Xylarnae growled after her shocked cry.

Almost immediately after, Xylarnae’s finger reappeared as well, a ghost like after image solidifying then returning her to full health, body hale and whole once again. Gwenvair breathed, a smile coming to her face.

“Qoln!” reverent awe accompanying the soft whisper.

Kalia’s interjection was harsher, “And strong, too.”

Gwenvair glanced at Kalia but said nothing, as she had no experience to appropriately offer her own view, but quietly took note of the statement.

“You are Qoln.”

“Yes. And… that hurt.”

Gwenvair tempered her greed and turned to face her. She will soon be a sister. I need… to treat her as such.

“I… am sorry. I have never practiced self-mutilation before.”

Xylarnae stared at her then snorted, her anger fading, replaced by relieved humor, “That… would seem obvious.”

Gwenvair nodded, “I will attempt again. But… he is… strong.”

Xylarnae’s smile faded, “Please tell him, I will do… anything. I have… no other options.”

Gwenvair nodded solemnly, “I will,” then smiled with sincerity, “Know that my sister and I want you.”

Xylarnae’s eyebrows rose, “Only two?”

Gwenvair smiled, “Only two.

Xylarnae grinned brightly, “That bodes well.”

“We are new.”

She nodded, “I know, but… still.”

Gwenvair’s smile faded, “He is… recalcitrant for many. Even I was rejected.”

Xylarnae’s eyebrows rose, “He rejected you?”

Gwenvair grimaced, her smile bitter, “He’s… coming around, but…”

“I… understand. But not many… that is good!”

Gwenvair’s smile returned and she nodded, “I will… try to get used to it. So, then I will return to my Hearing.”

Xylarnae nodded, “Thank you.”

Gwenvair dove back into their spirit, seeking Joe’s thoughts and called upon him again. His immediate response was rejection once again, and Gwenvair shuddered against its force. She paused, considering. She is Qoln. Curiosity and wonder returned then was immediately answered as she opened her mind, allowing her own thoughts to explain. His spirit replied with a question seeking why tinged with frustrated rejection. She paused at that, immediately realizing that Joe would never accept. And she frowned, tears just starting to form and then fading as she firmed her heart. He doesn’t understand. He has no understanding of it… then…

The thought came to her quickly. She needs protection. Do you offer it? Joe’s immediate response was a firm agreement, and acceptance. Gwenvair sighed in relief. I’m … sorry, Joe. She thought to herself, keeping it as hidden as possible. She looked at Xylarnae before smiling and nodding with a hint of joy tempered by a bitter understanding of her deceit. But… this is for the best. She immediately initiated the process, tugging upon Xylarnae’s spirit and pulling her in.

Xylarnae’s response was also relief, much greater than Gwenvair’s. She quickly came forward and hugged her, and Gwenvair focused on her for a time as they clung to each other, Xylarnae in relieved joy and Gwenvair with hopeful pride. After a time, Gwenvair looked up to see Kalia staring at them both, bitter anger softly painting her face overlaid with a bit of sad greed. Gwenvair noticed and Kalia immediately cleared her face, going blank. Gwenvair hid her own emotions, but internally frowned. She’s… going to be a problem… even… Gwenvair sighed. The only option she saw… Not a problem… if she’s family, too.

Gwenvair returned to their family spirit, querying Joe once again. Joe proved as patient as always, although spirits were often known to be uniquely patient. Gwenvair requested once again for protection, this time for both Kalia and Xylarnae, claiming a need to maintain Xylarnae’s safety. It was the truth, and that truth was easily felt within her spirit response. Joe’s spiritual response was an immediate agreement and Gwenvair felt only relief. Leaving Kalia outside their family would leave someone with knowledge that would prove lethal if released. Any who would find out that they had Qoln in their family would tear the family apart, destroying all others and taking her. She smiled in relief and looked up at Kalia, smiling warmly with a soft nod

Kalia noticed, then opened her eyes wide in hopeful shock look before smiling. Xylarnae seemed to notice Gwenvair’s subtle movements and pulled back, looking at her then following her gaze to see Kalia’s happy smile.

“Her, too?”

“He accepts to protect you.”

Xylarnae’s happiness soured, “Protection.”

“He accepts you.”

Xylarnae tried to smile with a nod, “I am grateful.”

Gwenvair replied with her own sad smile, “And I too am grateful for your patience. You will see. Joe is… a good man.”

Worry gnawed at the root of her being, even as she struggled to find some joy in her decision. His spirit had been unusually silent and numb, but her concern fell more truly for her own deceit.

* * *

Joe woke, or maybe a more appropriate description would be to say that Joe became aware. He was walking, somewhere… Still in the city… unless this is a different city?

He tried to stop and turn around but nothing happened. He continued marching down the street. Panic set in a bit and he looked up, checking the position of the sun and gas gia… His head did not move, nor did his eyes. He marched forward, resolute and utterly certain in his travel. What’s… happening! No! This… is it that… the guy, whoever it is… Joe dug deep, growling silent as his mouth and lungs refused to even listen to him. Focus! Believe… he might not be… no… I don’t have verification that he’s has any authority… With that, the control lessened and finally he was able to have some measure of control. He kept his head straight, but looked around with his eyes. Good… still in Coushar… so… gotta act fast. He clenched down on everything, attempting to remain as silent and in as control as possible.

“Ah. It seems that you are back. How do you do that, by the way? It is … truly strange.”

Joe stopped and turned, looking at the man behind him and his rage spiked, “You! I told you!” No… no… no time for this! Gotta do this now… Change my char…

“Yes, me. I am…”

Joe said nothing, focused entirely on changing his polyglot char. Polyglot char change…

“Ahh… it seems you are trying something but you will listen to me, is that understood?”

Joe found himself unable to continue, his mind frozen and no matter how he tried to push on, to say the next few words that would deafen his ears and save him, his mind blanked against the sheer wall of rejection. Rage swelled and it erupted out of his control. Joe turned his efforts from internal to direct it towards his target. Get away… get away… get away…

“Listen here, dick. I want nothing to do with you,” Joe immediately interrupted while leaping forward and pulling a fist back to punch. He wasn’t going to wait to continue the conversation. The man had literally kidnapped him, however he did it, and wasn’t going to… pain stuttered through his body and he faltered slightly. His right knee dipped and he stumbled but he grimaced and pushed through, standing once more and stalking forward, slower, even as his face twisted in a snarl of pain.

“Right… I’m not…” the pain went stratospheric, and Joe fell to his knees with a snarling groan.

“How do you do that?” Feet came forward and began to circle him, just inside his range of sight as he stared down at the ground in pain. The man walked around him like he was studying a rather interesting insect. Joe’s raged spiked further, and the pain receded. Mana swept outward into his body, arms, and legs. His mind slowed and he grinned. More time! More time1 I can do this! He snapped a hand out, his hand clamping on an ankle. He pulled and twisted simultaneously, seeking to do the greatest damage possible. His arm ripped towards and back past his body, the man yelping in a startled scream even as Joe’s mind blanked, the pain erupting and eliminating his conscious.

* * *

Kainaro cursed, the man’s grip stupendous as he found himself suddenly with his back to the ground and the sky above him. His screeched in terror even as he frantically punched at his taming artifact. The eccentric’s power left him but it was too late and he slammed to the ground on his back and slammed his head into the floor. He lost his mind for a time, totally dazed and struggling to return. He didn’t know how long he remained on the ground, but he came to, finding a crowd staring at him. Seeing him awake, they quickly dispersed and he struggled to his feet, rage coming to him quickly. He stared at the man, then growled in range, squeezing the tamer hard, spiking the man’s pain, but the eccentric felt nothing, already long lost from thought.

The Patriarch will not appreciate a lobotomized eccentric… but this man. He stood and kicked the man hard in the side, low in the ribs. Again, the man didn’t even move and Kainaro pulled his foot back with a curse and quickly lifted it up to rub it from the pain. What is he made of… ste… He yelped and fell back to the ground, the foot he was hopping on collapsing under him in pain. His rage returned then rapidly cooled as he looked at the man and realized he’d destroyed his health with a single grasp. He scrambled back on his hands, gaining distance before he stood cautiously, limping. This man… he should not be taken to a simple master’s camp! This is not…

Kainaro engaged the collar’s spirit and the eccentric stood, blank faced and obedient as the collar took control. He remained several steps behind, limping after the eccentric as they headed towards the gate plaza. He cursed, wishing he’d demanded far more for this. This Eccentric… would be a problem. His excitement had long turned to bitter fear. An Eccentric. I feel him, but, maybe this is unwise! His power is… Fear trilled down his mind and he turned away from the thought

* * *

Kilniara lead Allanar and the Matriarch through the streets of the outer city with ease, now much more comfortable within her element. The other two were anxious but had calmed once they’d left the clan and grew even calmer with the escape from the inner city. They arrived at the city gate and pulled to the side, calming and waiting with expectation and no little manic glee. Hope swelled through her and she could feel Gwenvair closer. Even Joe was only a short distance away, although he seemed to have some business in the inner city as he traveled that way. She smiled towards Allanar and the Matriarch, and both seemed to calm with relief as well, settling into a small snack shop near the gate which gave them a good view of it. Now, they only needed to wait.

* * *

Gwenvair led the others outside, pausing as she noticed Garnedell’s odd slime weapon on the table. She sighed and picked up the spear, adding it to the belongings they were taking as luggage. The servants rapidly piling the luggage on the roof of the carriage before all four clambered into the carriage. The door out of the villa was already open and she grinned, grateful for what Joe had done. She knew Joe had already left the villa, heading into the city center and while she was anxious, she was unconcerned. He would meet them at the gate out of the city or on the road. They had no need to worry otherwise. She’d felt a spike of concern that quickly calmed, and she could only assume he’d forgotten something. She tried to remain calm, but

* * *

Joe came to awareness again with a headache that was overwhelming. Remembering before, he immediately clamped down on everything, his will crushing his reactions into a tight ball, then he felt the pain. His head throbbed, and he groaned lou… Nothing came out, and Joe focused, looking aroun… His head remained forward without any change, and what he could see was only what was in the forward arc of his facing. He was walking again, something moving him with ease and walking him… puppetting his body. Rage roared even as terror skittered around the rage like a million insectoid creatures of darkness seeking to destroy his sanity, a massive eldritch horror hinted at behind them in the darkness that would absolutely swamp his strength if he allowed it to.

His mind fled from the horror and buried itself in the rage, finding solace there. Fight… don’t let anything... fight… you’ll figure out something… you will… you can… don’t… Terror edged into his thoughts, his monologue turning towards fear and he immediately shut off, turning back to inarticulate but safe rage. He came upon an odd plaza he hadn’t seen before, an odd constru…

His curiosity was torn away from him as he saw the new Patriarch standing in the plaza, speaking with several of his compatriots. Rage swelled, a hatred Joe couldn’t so deep it was beyond his understanding spiked through his heart, angering him much more than it should simultaneous with a hidden … something… Why am I feeling something for…

“Ah… you have found him, slave master.”

Behind him, the voice of the man who’d somehow marched him through the streets spoke out, “I have. He is… difficult.”

“Quite.”

“He will take time.”

The Patriarch scowled and walked past his vision as he continued walking fo…

“Stop, slave.”

Joe’s body immediately stopped even as his mind raged to run. He tried to turn, to look at the two men conversing behind him, to run, to sneak away, anything. But nothing worked, and he stood, staring ahead at a corner of a plaza he’d never seen before while two men conversed behind him.

“… lieve you can use this as an argument to increase your pay?” the Patriarch spoke with disdain.

“I am simply informing you of the time that might be necessary,” the slave master replied with an easily heard growl.

“Then he is yours. He must obey. He will do what he must; as demanded.”

“Excellent. You have your orders, slave.”

Joe felt the thing… whatever it was, settle upon him with a weight that was absolute in a way Joe couldn’t understand. It was a straitjacket tying him down in a way he couldn’t understand but knew intimately and absolutely. Despair swelled up within him and he immediately quelled it, evaporating it with his rage, the well of his determination filling with fury. It swelled within him, giving him purpose. He stewed, barely noticing the conversation when suddenly he started moving again and blinked in surprise. Why? What is goi… His thoughts snapped to the present and delved into the immediate past, struggling to remember what was just said.

* * *

Gunlan stared after his soon to be well trained Eccentric and grinned with joy. He remained there for a time. He’d questioned the slave master’s choices when he was told the slave master would take the Eccentric for one last view of the city before going through the Gate, but the man had been adamant, saying something about breaking spirits, or some such. Still, it was a joy to see the Eccentric finally brought to heel and he almost giggle manically, but held it in.

His feeling of joyful satisfaction evaporated, however, when a messenger sprinted into the plaza and headed straight for him. He grimaced. The messenger boy came up and began speaking, but the loud noise from the unwashed masses irritated him, and he demanded silence.

When the crowd barely quelled and still chose to move within his presence, he almost demanded his guards whip the crowd. His demand, however, vanished from his thoughts when the messenger boy’s message was finally heard.

“Elites await you at the audience hall, Patriarch. They are… strong!”

Gunlan’s fear exploded and he turned back to the clan hold, marching quickly, “How long ago, fool? What is…”

His question didn’t even finish as a green wind of immense power sped over the roofs and twirled around him, leaving dozens of little cuts and a hard slap to his rear. Concerns for dignity evaporated. He sprinted.

* * *

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

The nominal captain of the prison guard sighed in annoyance, his Shadows swelling and flowing around him. His fellow captain lounged with ease, laying across the throne of the Patriarch with her legs draped over one of the throne arms. However, he was not one for resting in prisoners’ lodgings. When the messenger boy had sprinted from the grounds, he’d followed him with his Presence, and saw the boy come upon the Patriarch. When he saw who the Patriarch was, he scoffed in shocked laughter. That boy?! The surprise turned to burning anger when he saw the prisoner marching quickly towards them.

“The Patriarch chooses to dawdle. Impress upon him the need for speed,” he spoke to his fellow captain, her Dao of Wind allowing for much further distance.

She sighed and waved a hand, “You always were so impatient.”

Wind leapt from her hand and thundered out of the hall through a window, screaming across the sky towards the inner city.

“Which one?”

He grunted and highlighted the Patriarch’s position with a small pulse of presence and her Wind swept directly towards him before swirling around the boy and delivering a literal kick to his rear.

He looked at her, sighing, “Really?”

She giggled, “He’s coming faster, right?”

He closed his eyes with frustration.

* * *

Gwenvair grew concerned quickly when she saw the crowds of people swamping the streets. That concern grew even faster when she found pockets devoid of people, and their travel through the city proved rapid and easy. There was no outright panic, but the mood of the city was wild. Uneasiness coiled through her stomach and she glanced around at the others in the carriage, all looking at each other with worry. They continued to the gate, hoping to meet with Kilniara and her mother there. They only had one more stop which proved quick enough, another carriage empty but ready, following behind them.

The crowds grew, and the noise of the crowd was deeply concerning.

* * *

Joe scowled with rage, twisting and turning with frustration as he remembered what little he could of the conversation between this slave master and the idiot Patriarch. Oh.. yeah… I’m supposed to obey this jerk now. Not going to… Crap! My body does it without… it’s… my… body!

His foot stuttered for a second then immediately resumed its smooth walk and Joe froze in shock, then grinned fiercely, at least internally. His shock broke him out of his efforts and he resumed walking smoothly because of it. Joe’s raged swelled then cooled, turning to hard ice deep within his heart, encapsulating a nugget of hope and tightening around it in a hard shell. He turned to listening as hard as he could even as he watched whatever was available. I can fight this… I can… The hope was one part trust in himself and nine parts desperation hiding a crippling fear. He wasn’t sure if…

“Turn left and go to the gate.”

His body automatically moved, the move wrenching, and suddenly he found himself walking up and walking across some kind of stage. His steps carrie…

“Stop. Stay.”

Joe’s body froze. He grimaced, but his body remained placid, unchanging. The face of the slave master came in front of him and stared, hard. He stayed out of his reach, and Joe stifled any desire to do something. If he gets… no… if I do something while he’s told me to stay… I’m going to have to fight… how am I going to do this… Could I even move if I take him out? Or would I be stuck here… forever… His mind whirled with desperation while his captor stared at him, then began speaking.

“You will be brought to heel. The only question is how much pain it will cause you. Accepting your place is your first task. Then you must obey. For now, you will be forced to obey but when it becomes second nature to you, you will find yourself in a much more pleasant experience. Obey me. Do well. Do as I command and later when you return, as your master commands. Live your life for your master and you will find happiness. This is not the end of your life. You will find happiness if you but try. But first, you must be punished. You cannot attack your betters. Know this is nothing but your own choice. Choose better and this will not happen. Be punished.”

The man pushed the button on the device he had and Joe felt pain echo through him. He remained placid, unable to move or do anything as his body remained standing straight and without any reaction even as he writhed within.

“Oops. I’m sorry. I forgot. Spirit, return control to the slave.”

Joe’s mind clenched in pain, but heard the man and quickly steeled himself. Not going to give him the sati… no… wait… he… they will be more on edge… just… let it happen… already was dumb… When the control was lost, he flinched then allowed his pain to be felt, coming as a grunting wail from his throat. He fell to one knee and kept his head down, not wishing to show the hatred shini…

“Raise your head and look at me.”

Joe’s head snapped up before he even knew what happened and found himself glaring at the man.

“You think me a fool? You will be broken, like all good slaves must be. Buck. Fight. Throw off the yoke. It is easy to put it back on. It takes no work from me. But you will be broken.”

Right… then that’s fine… lets go with that, “I’m still alive. So yes, you are a fool.”

The man’s lips twitched and he turned away. Hit… Joe grinned victoriously then felt his body jerk erect.

“Stand. Follow me. Five steps behind.”

Joe’s body lurched forward, this time somehow, under his control. He moved his body, to follow and set himself perfectly five steps behind. How… what? He hardened himself and fought, then relaxed, stifling a grin as his leg paused, stuttering much harder this time before he relaxed and allowed himself to just move.

“Here are the rules. You will not fight or strike a slave master. You will protect them and keep them from harm. You will not harm them through any action. You will not allow harm to them from any other source. You will obey any word given to you by a slave master or by another at the behest of a slave master. You will not die. You must live and protect yourself but not at the expense of a slave master. You will eat heartily and healthily whatever is given you. You will sleep a healthy amount. You will keep yourself in health without detriment to slave masters. You will acknowledge each order given verbally. Now, do you understand these rules?”

“Yes, slave master,” Joe replied automatically without control, his mouth moving even before he thought to ever say such a thing. Joe’s stomach roiled with it, his rage spiking vehemently with it before he forcibly pulled it back. While he stifled his rage, he could do nothing about the nausea that churned in his stomach.

“Excellent. Don’t think I believe this to be evidence of your obedience. You will be displayed like the animal you are until you have learned yourself to be exactly that. Now, heel. Maintain five paces behind.”

Joe ground his teeth, and walked placidly behind him exactly as commanded, his body slowing a few paces until he was exactly five behind and then began walking measuring his stride and movement with the man’s. If he paused, Joe found himself unable to do nothing but wait. Some few times, he fought against it, feeling out his ability to resist, but found it much worse than he thought. It took an immense effort to push through, and he quickly found out that the reason he was locked down was that his own body was being used against him, his muscles locking up to rob him of independence. His mind roiled as he struggled to keep his face calm.

The movement through the city was silent, although the crowds seemed a bit more pushy today. His mind ignored the cries of the people and the shouts amongst the crowded streets. Despite their seemingly random travel through the city, Joe quickly realized that the man was being deliberate, as they soon found themselves back at the inn he’d stayed at before. The man walked in, saying nothing. He walked through the common room which was crowded full of people shouting and speaking loudly over one another. Joe following behind ignoring it all, lost in his thoughts. The man then nodded to the inn keeper before walking out of the inn.

The man took him to just about everywhere in the city he’d been before, parading him around everywhere and Joe completely ignored the noisy, pushy crowds. Any hope he had for there eventual return to the villa in the poor district was dashed when he found the courtyard empty, although the street outside was not, full of people pushing and driving down the street. The man did not stay there long and Joe quickly realized why when there was no one there. He’s… parading me in front of everyone! In what Joe could only assume was to be some form of humiliation, the man made sure everyone noticed him. Joe did feel a tinge of embarrassment, but it only spurred his rage and anger. The slave master was an idiot, and the only thing Joe could think of was he would find a way to do destroy him and all who empowered him.

After they’d wandered through the streets, even into the inner city, the man then turned back and Joe followed placidly behind, exactly five steps. They then headed towards the center of the city and when they reached a large plaza with a rather smallish obelisk in the center that Joe almost didn’t recognize with the crowds. We were here before, right? The man began speaking again. Oh… Need to listen.

“I would have preferred more time to circle the city for you to truly release your past life. It is done. You must release and begin your new life, dedicated to your master. This is no longer yours. You will no longer have access to such as this. Your life is dead. I am kind and it is only right I give you a chance to say goodbye, but you must say goodbye and you will say goodbye.

“Now offer your goodbyes.”

Joe’s mouth opened of its own accord and began to speak, but Joe immediately stopped, no sound released as he simply clenched down on his diaphragm. The slave master tsked, shaking his head.

“Fighting only makes it worse. Now say your goodbyes and offer thanks to me.”

His body once again attempted to say goodbye, but he simply forced it down, then turned to look at the man before grinning in a feral manner, “Thank you.” You’ve given me a goal!

The man appeared a bit shaken, and Joe turned back to his placid forward facing attention. Joe wasn’t exactly happy that he’d pushed hard once again, but since the man knew, he figured he’d fight hard. Fight hard… really hard… then maybe I can taper off on my own? Control it… then… when I get a chance… Need to start making plans… The man stared at him for a bit before turning back.

“Follow five paces behind. Silently.”

Joe said nothing, but he kept the grin. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide in shock when the very air in front of him was ripped apart and the view of another city appeared before him. He breathed deeply in shock, and the slave master in front of him looked back with a smirk, then shook his head and walked through, leading him on.

* * *

The city roiled, crowds panicking with worry. Most the people had exited their homes or businesses to chat excitedly with the visit of the first Presence. But, the second Presence, accompanied by the dazzling display of two figures leaping through the sky from the inner city all the way to the clan lands, turned the excited chats into deeply concerned conversations with furtive glances and uncertain gazes. Panic began when members of the inner city saw the Patriarch sprinting through the street chased by a green glowing wind. And the panic spread like an explosive wildfire, streets filling instantly or emptying just as quickly. Many fled to homes while others pushed to move somewhere else, anywhere else.

The city guards, however, grew nervous and antsy, pushing back against crowds which did little to calm the people. The clan guards even closed their gates which did nothing to calm the populace of the inner city. The guards of the inner city wall did not close the gates, their nervous worry not allowing them to do so as half the guards had family in the inner city and half in the outer. Fear of a riot from one of the two paralyzed the guard leadership.

The leadership of the outer city wall outright fled, rushing to their homes to protect family and property. The guards, seeing leadership flee, also took the chance to do the same, fleeing home to protect family. Very few guards were left to guard the gates into the city, and those that were left, did not care or were too green to function usefully. A small trickle of people soon began to see the exit as a very good option.

* * *

Around the city many small pockets of people that were deemed loyal and excellent individuals by Gwenvair prepared for their escape. Several had already filled carts and begun walking towards the city gate to escape. However, the wild crowds had almost everyone feeling deeply anxious, and soon almost everyone who’d been surreptitiously informed could not hold back, and dozens upon dozens of carts piled high with hearth, home, and family wound through the streets of the city, passing through the inner city gate and lining up along the main boulevard to exit the outer city. Those in the outer city held out a little longer, the panic taking more time to make it to the outer city, but they proved just as vulnerable to the panicked crowds and were soon winding through the outer cities many streets, dozens of carts and wagons strong. They all headed towards the city exit.

* * *

The Gate leading to Coushar was rarely activated, a powerful tool but too costly to be regularly used. Today, it had already opened twice, once for an arrival, once for an outbound travel of a single man and his slave. But, the Gate guild member manning the gate felt her eyes rise when another incoming request came through. They immediately replied with an all clear, and the gate formed.

A good dozen Saga priests dressed in wealthy clothing carrying a display of wealth that would astound those of even the capital marched through the gate. Even as their gate formed and several Saga priests marched through, a soft call peppered the Gate guild member’s thoughts and she turned back to see another Gate requesting access. She boggled, replying with a temporary hold before turning to watch the massive Saga parade march through the gate, carrying wealth that was worthy of a parade in of itself. The Saga priests wasted no time and immediately left the Gate plaza and headed towards their temple

A series of dozens of priests marching through the city with massive wealth normally would do little but bring interest and excitement to the city. But now, all the people saw was a group of priests marching through the streets carrying the entirety of a temples wealth. They did not know the destination of the Saga priests. The rumor was enough.

If the priests were placidly received at first, a full contingent of Dragon Spear members marched through in full regalia, and panic quickly stirred. The Gate guild member grew anxious, surprised by the heavy traffic. Another buzz immediately came, followed by a second, and for the first time in her life, she had to prioritize a queue of incoming gates. She did so rapidly before she turned to look at the Dragon Spears out from the Gate, heading towards the inner city.

The next gate disgorged a massive army of Dungeon Guardians, and the Gate Guild members breathing took on a tone of worry when the next gate initiated. An odd group of members, also martial and still seemingly to be priests marched through, their air even giving the Dragon Spear a run for their money on their fierce reputation. The Gate Guild did not recognize the local chapter of LEAP, but they did recognize their martial air.

But while the Gate Guild would have loved to spy on the latest members coming from the Gate, he had not time as Gate requests rapidly grew, dozens upon dozens of more requests form powerful peoples and clans. And she watched on with awe as clan after clan marched through the Gate, clanner after clanner she did not recognize except to notice the riot of many colors as groups, even armies, invaded the city.

A wild wave of Dragon Spear, Dungeon Guardians, and a huge number of clans emptied out of the Gate, marched across the Gate plaza, and head deep into the inner city to camp out in front of the Coushar clan walls. If people had held on to their calm before, the panic that followed overwhelmed almost everyone!

* * *

Gwenvair made it to the gate where she would meet her mother and sister but found their way blocked by a massive crowd of people. She grew concerned to see so many here and wondered at the happenings in the city. Her memory as First in Line for Matriarch welled and she almost turned to seeking information and solutions before remembering and settling back both in frustration and an ever deepening anxiety.

At first, as the carriage pushed its way through the crowds, Gwenvair grew deeply concerned that her people had been unable to await their moments, crowding for the exit. But as she searched through the crowds, a different concern swelled. She found very few of her people here, most surrounding the carriage crowds of terrified people. Her fear calmed as the carriage pushed forward and she began to see some few members that should have already left the city. The calm began to evaporate with that realization. We’re late… everyone is so late!

The carriage was still struggling through the crowds when Gwenvair turned to the others, “This is taking too long. I will await you at the exit from the city. The driver knows the path.”

Xylarnae nodded but seemed slightly concerned, “Yes, Queen.”

“Just Gwenvair, please.”

Xylarnae’s smile returned, but anxiety still etched at the corner of her eyes, “OK, Gwenvair.”

She chuckled and leapt from the carriage. We need to move.

* * *

The number of carts and carriages that began to crowd the exit to the city proved catastrophic. It was obvious these people were leaving the city, and given the nature of the moment, it was certain that they were fleeing. Panic swelled, and many people who drowned in fear found hope in following the others’ lead. Many fled home, finding spouse and children as the desperately packed everything they could in what bags they could find while cursing their inability to find carts or wagons. Those who had little at home fled and returned on foot quickly, unhindered by the need to herd their children. And those already at the gate weighed their odds and many without family chose the proximity of escaped over returning home. And the crowds around the gate swelled.

* * *

The outer city guards at the gate had long succumbed to fear and fled and those that remained were young and poorly prepared for the situation. They struggled to do their duty, inspecting those leaving and coming but without their superiors, their authority quaked before the ever increasing anger of the crowd stuck in the now massive line.

* * *

Gwenvair struggled and pushed through the crowd until arriving at the small bar that sat just inside the gate to the city. It wasn’t the greatest of places nor was it well visited, but it was clean. Pushing in through the door from the massive swelling of crowds out side was a relief and finding her mother and Kilniara proved simple. They were the only people there. Her mother stood as regally as ever, if a bit feebly, and her heart clenched to see her in such poor condition. Kilniara proved less recalcitrant and sprinted across the room before leaping to take Gwenvair in a hug. Gwenvair laughed and returned the hug, allowing her joy to be freely expressed.

“It’s good to see you, too!”

“Don’t tease me! You had Joe… and the others. I was alone… with those horrible maids! Horrible!”

Gwenvair’s laughter calmed and she returned the hug with a bit more sincerity before both retreated. Kilniara smiled brightly, tears running down her cheeks and Gwenvair only shook her head and Kilniara’s rather childish response. But, it did feel good to be so needed and so she did not begrudge her the moment.

Her mother’s arrival, though, had Kilniara retreating and her mother stared down upon her with regal dignity before finally simply smiling and offering her own hug in return. Gwenvair found that she might not be quite so mature as she thought, and buried herself into her mother’s arms to hide the tears that welled up in her own eyes. Kilnilara proved prescient and hugged her on the other side, and Gwenvair melted for a time.

The remained this way, simple and silent in their enjoyment of each other’s presence. After a bit of time, all three naturally pulled back and smiled brilliantly. The smile was of great joy and hope. Gwenvair glanced between the two then turned to Allanar.

“Well met, mist mage.”

The man laughed heartily and came forward, offering a deep bow that she immediately rejected and demanded a commoners hand shake instead. Allanar consider then took it.

“I will accept for now, but it will not be long before you are clan leader once again… of a new clan.”

Gwenvair smiled at that and then turned to the others. The enjoyed a short conversation, all four speaking quickly and catching up before Gwenvair cut it short and demanded they leave, anxious worry driving her. The others did not begrudge her.

* * *

Xylarnae and Kalia waited in the carriage as it crawled forward, inching with glacial speed that niggled at her anxiety, slowly but surely punching it skyward. Anxiety grew and while Kalia continued to play at boredom, she could see the tension in her shoulders. Stephliquen, as always, did not understand at all but she continued to glance between them with her own fear obvious in the tense corners of her eyes.

Finally, Xylarnae stood, “This is taking too long. I’ll go look for Gwenvair.”

That proved Kalia and she immediately looked at her, “Don’t be a fool. One more person lost is one more person impossible to find.”

“I do not wish to simply sit here.”

“There is nothing we can do!”

Xylarnae growled, gritting her teeth as she fell back in her seat. So many people around her itched at her fate, calling to her and breathing of possibilities. It was driving her to madness, all the tiny compatibilities that were meaningless in the grand scheme of things but in volume, left her feeling both blind and overwhelmed.

She cried out, “I need to…” Suddenly, some whisper brushed against her fate. Nothing so great that she would normally seek it out, but one that she would sow good fortune with if she had the chance. She almost decided to ignore it, not wishing to brave the crowds outside for she would likely not be able to see anything as the panic and immediacy of the moment was so overwhelming in the crowd that fate fluctuated like a tsunami with the overpowering emotions on display. She remained for a time before she simply sought escape from the carriage.

“I won’t leave, but I’m going up on the roof.”

Kalia frowned but then sighed, “At least sit with the driver, not on the roof in the midst of the luggage!”

Xylarnae rolled her eyes and agreed before slipping from the carriage and coming to the driver’s bench at the front of the carriage. She grasped handle and hauled herself up the small steps to sit with the driver.

The driver looked over in shock when the carriage shook, looking at her with some anger, “Oi! Miss! You have no… oh. Pardon, mistress. I had no idea.”

“It is well, good driver. I simply seek escape the confines of the carriage.”

The man nodded in reply then fell silent, offering her her space and peace. Kilniara took it and began scanning the crowds, sometimes standing to search all around, other times sitting and only searching to the front or sides. She spent most of her time primarily seeking for Gwenvair. But if I see that fate… I may seek a connection. She searched diligently, but she ultimately didn’t find anything.

* * *

Thamnerlun struggled in the crowd, unable to see much of anything except the lower backs and the less pleasant rears of all around him. He was strong, so none could disrupt his footing or place nor push him from his daughter and brother, but the inability to see much of anything left him grumpy. The high walls with the zigzagging stairways on either side of the gate out of sight below the only landmark that guided him. He didn’t even need that, either, as the crowd all pushed for the same location, creating a wall of flesh that crushed him and pushed him to where he desired to go.

Thamnerlun and his family remained crushed in the crowd for much longer than he found comfortable, smells and sweltering heat beginning to make him quite uncomfortable, which was quite strange. The forges of the underholds rarely made him uncomfortable, their heat intense but still inviting. But the heat of bodies pressed close was much less comfortable for him, so he began pushing his way through the crowd, drawing his brother and daughter behind him until he was against the buildings lining the street, offering them a moment of respite from the overwhelming press of the base around him.

“Smart thinking, brother. These humans… so close and too many. Let me see the lay of the land. Give me a hand.”

His brother immediately turned to several barrels that lined the wall of the building they were against and called for his aid to raise him to the top of the barrels. Thamnerlun grunted in frustration but figured it would give his brother something to do so he held out his right arm, bent at the elbow in a right angle before bending slightly to allow his brother to get a foot on his forearm. His brother did exactly that, then grasped the top of his head as he always did to steady himself as both stood simultaneously.

“Head!” Thamnerlun growled in frustration.

“Ah! Right! Forgot about that, brother. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

But it always happens, every time. Of course it will happen again you ingot head! Fool! Thamnerlun grunted and leaned to the right where his brother quickly stepped off his arm and up onto a rather large barrel almost as tall as he was. His brother daintily put his foot on the barrel, cautious of delicate human construction. Both grunted in surprise when the barrel easily held his weight, and his brother began stepping forward across the three barrels that lined the wall. Thamnerlun growled at his brother’s rashness and grabbed his daughter’s hand, not wishing to be separated as he pushed forward, ignoring the curses and cries of the base he shoved past in front of him.

He came to stand beside his brother, and his brother began a rambling description of all he saw, speaking without concern and simply describing what Thamnerlun already knew was there. Of course there’s a crowd, dunderhead. And of course the people are panicking. I can hear it easily. Of course the girl who told …

“What?!”

“Ha! I thought that would catch you attention brother! The girl who told me of the breeder cure, I see her! She is on a carriage just a dozen or two paces from us! It is a wonder that she…”

“Capital!?” Thamnerlun growled in confused surprise.

“Yeah, she was. But now she’s here, I don’t know why…”

“Certain?”

“Of course, I’m certain. I can see her from here! You know I have mother’s excellent eyes and can see at a hund…”

“Where?”

“Right there! I already told you that. She’s on a carriage not a dozen paces from us and packed, ready to le…”

“Take us!”

“Of course, of course. No need to be so anxious. She will not get away from us. We can get to her easi…”

“Enough!”

Thamnerlun stepped forward and created space for his brother to jump down. His brother jumped down easily enough, still running a thousand words a hammer strike uncaring of his brother’s focus or desire for silence. Thamnerlun’s size proved a boon for his push through the crowd, his brother’s incessant jabbering nonstop in his ear behind him. Thamnerlun had to continually check his destination as the carriage was hidden by the crowd until they were close enough that he was just catching the top of the luggage. With that, the rest of the travel proved easy enough if slow. They arrived at the carriage and his brother proved as debonair as always.

“Why hello again, beautiful lady. You are Xylarnae, yes? Your helped proved to be a timely boon for my brother. I wished to offer you thanks and perhaps to repay your good deed. Mayhap a meal sometime this week? Not now, of course, the hullabaloo seems rather unpleasant and you will fin…”

Thamnerlun grunted angrily and his brother immediately paused, turning to look at him yet continuing on.

“You must excuse my brother. He is easily upset and easily annoyed, but he’s quite soft hearted. There is no need to…”

“Enough,” Thamnerlun grunted and scowled.

The poor girl seemed downright overwhelmed, simply staring down upon them with some shock. But, the long rambling discourse his brother had been on gave her more than enough time to recover and, like him, she ignored his brother’s foolish speech. An excellent girl! She certainly has a very good head upon her shoulders to so easily dismiss my brother’s foolishness.

“Oh! Yes! I remember. Are you looking for some help to get out? We are leaving as well. Oh… is that your niece? Oh… please, come… come sit with me. You must be absolutely exhausted, your feet as flat as boards with all that standing. Come, sit by me.”

Thamnerlun said nothing, but grinned and nodded in approval, beckoning his daughter forward, pushing her towards the steps to settle in next to the kind base woman. His daughter, much to shy for her own good, offered a soft reserved thanks and Thamnerlun helped by speaking louder.

“Thanks.”

“Oh! Of course. It is no problem. Please, she is safe here. You are?”

Thamnerlun stared up at her, considering her question and how to respond, then decided he would have speak a few more words than he typically did and pushed forth with the effort, “Father. Thamnerlun Metalgrapple.”

The base girl seemed confused at first, blinking her eyes while staring at him until she suddenly understood and replied quickly. Thamnerlun grinned and nodded his head.

“Oh! Her father. Well, nice to meet you, Thamnerlun Metalgrapple. I am Xylanae.”

Good head on her shoulders!

“Hmm. Greetings.”

She blinked at him with some confusion, then glanced to his brother before looking back at him. Thamnerlun knew exactly what she was thinking and simply grinned widely at her. Her eyes widened and the she giggled, quickly turning to full laughter. An excellent specimen of a base human woman. She truly has a good head on her shoulders. Hmm… given the unusual panic of the city, and that Presence from before… Thamnerlun shuddered slightly before turning to step to the sides of the horses. I can question her on the person who discovered the cure at a later time. Escape is probably for the best.

Thamnerlun arrived at the side of the horses before waving his brother to go to the other side, both taking guard positions to help push their way through the crowds. The gates came closer, but the anxiety remained dampened, his quest much more likely to be completed. Soon… soon I may repay my life debt.

* * *

Gwenvair’s return to the carriage proved both anticlimactic and more difficult than she expected. Pushing through the crowds that were on the edge of panic led dangerously close to anger. After much effort, they returned and she raised an eyebrow to see their carriage now escorted by to rather intimidating Empowered. Dwarves? Where did they come from?

Xylarnae sat with the driver on the driver’s bench, a young dwarven woman at her side. Both engaged in soft conversation, although it was rather obvious that Xylarnae drove much of the conversation. Gwenvair did not argue against it, two dwarf guards added a lot to their safety and she would not fight such benefit.

She directed her mother into the carriage before climbing the stairs on the outside of the carriage that lead to the luggage rack on the roof. She climbed as high as she could and looked out upon the massive crowd. They were close enough that she could now see the gate and peered towards it. She grimaced at what she saw, although a hint of pride did swell with her at seeing the guardsmen still performing their duties. So young though… where are the leade… Her pride was swamped but anger as she realized the poor young guards had been left holding the reins for an explosive duty. She returned to the street.

“Allanar. Please, could you go and relieve the guards of their duty. Tell them they are to allow all through without concern. Also, maybe if you can find several other responsible and wise men, set up with three others to direct traffic from each direction. We need to relieve the people’s desire to flee or this will not end well.”

Allanar immediately offered their clan salute with a nod, “Immediately, Fir… Gwenvair. I will make sure it is done.”

Gwenvair nodded and slipped into the carriage as well. It was time to retreat. It would be unwise for her faced to be seen here so easily. Most of the poor would not recognize her at all, so she did not fear such, but as they arrived closer to the gates, some of the higher ups within the guards would likely know her.

Allanar proved both efficient and driven at the task assigned him. The guards quickly began allowing any through, taking his clan attire and authority as proof enough and sought relief from the crowd’s anger. Setting up a rotation to allow people through from the three major streets entering was touch and go for a time, but a rapid rotation calmed the people and he was soon able to shift to a more efficient of longer rotation between the three streets. In moments, there were well on their way and soon out of the city.

Gwenvair, however, felt only a deep tension that she kept carefully at bay. Joe did not appear to be distressed, but a deep undertone of tension thrummed through the connection between them. Moments of stress or anger shone through, but he seemed to clamp down on them quickly. Something felt different, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. He was somewhere in the inner city, although she was relatively certain he wasn’t in the clan areas. But sometime in their trip in the carriage, his link faded almost completely and panic almost overwhelmed her until she realized he had gone to another plane.

While she wasn’t exactly worried, there was a certain sense of concern. She trusted him, and his tense focus seemed to make it obvious he was on a crucial mission of some kind. So she calmed her heart and turned her focus to the others, joining in with the joy of their escape and the return of family.

* * *

The boy who claimed to be Patriarch finally stumbled into the audience room then came to a surprised halt, eyes calculating even as rage stuttered across his heart upon seeing a woman lounging on his throne. The nominal captain of the Prison guards sighed and glanced at his partner in frustration.

“Did you really have to push it?”

She giggled, “Sometimes they forget.”

“They don’t need to remember… they have no reason to for they never will.”

She shrugged and grinned, “But its fun.”

He sighed deeply, “It makes more work! You will send the reports this month.”

She sat up quickly, eyes wide and repentant, “No, please. I don…”

“Too late.”

She stared at him with puppy dog eyes for a bit but when he didn’t relent, the look immediately dropped from her face and she sighed and laid back upon the throne, “Well, in that case, there’s no need to stop. Might as well keep enjoying myself.”

He sighed and turned back to the boy Patriarch. Why? Now I have to impress upon him his place. His shadows immediately swelled and punched for the boy, swamping him even as his Presence, still well flared out and hyper aware of the whole audience all and slightly less aware of the entire clan grounds, flared into power and bent towards impressing upon the boy Patriarch his place within the cosmos and the Great Cycle.

“Calm, boy. We come only for one thing.”

The boy proved rather wise, immediately crumpling before him, head slamming to the ground as he spoke, “What do you seek, oh great one.”

Hmm… well mannered. His Presence retreated, giving the boy room to breathe and relax, which he did but remained bowed before him. The nominal captain nodded.

“Where are the perfect cores, boy?”

The Patriarch boy froze, what felt like fear swelling up through him and the captain grinned viscously. There are more! The boy remained upon the floor but did not reply, paralyzed in place and he felt his ire rise.

“Do not lie or try to withhold from me, boy. Just tell me. Such treasure is beyond your grasp and your strength. It would only bring tragedy to you and your clan. Where are the perfect cores?”

The boy shivered and shook his head, “I’m sorry, great one! I truly do not know of what you speak or what you seek.”

His anger spiked and he allowed his shadows to twist around him firmly, “You do not know of perfect cores?”

“I… no… of course I know of perfect cores. But there are no prefect cores here, great one. I would be more than willing to gift suc… uurrgh.”

His shadows clutched around the boy and his pitiful lies were cut short, “Do not lie to me, boy. Where are the cores?”

The boy panted, fear obvious in his soft cries but still the boy refused to speak. The captain’s ire grew, and so did his compatriots, as the boy refused to reveal the location of the cores again and again until the Dao of Wind swelled in his fellow captain’s rage and swept towards eh boy in a killing blow. Almost, he allowed the strike to land, but then swept up a wing of shadow to block the Wind. It blasted apart and swelled through the room in violent explosion, tearing banners, tapestries, and curtains from the wall. He turned to look at her.

“We will not kill him.”

“He lies! You know it. I know it. He lies! All our sources point to the perfect cores coming from this city!”

He sighed and turned back to the boy, “She is right, boy. The perfect cores are from here. Where are you hiding them.”

The boy panted in utter terror, long having voided himself, the stains of his fear wetting his pants such that he’d had to have his compatriot use her Dao of the Wind to blow away the stench. She’d taken advantage of his request, and the wind did more than simply blow away the stench, it offered small slices and tears to his exposed flesh, blood joining the small pool of feces and piss between his legs.

“Don’t fight this, boy. Where are the cores?”

“I do not know. I truly do not know! Our clan could not have such treas… aaaaaack…”

The nominal captain sighed, his shadows clamping down hard upon the boy before he also entombed him in his shadows so his miserable cries could not be heard.

“Alright. Search the grounds.”

“Finally! I don’t understand why you had to fight so hard on this! The boy is obviously lying. I can find it in moments.”

He turned his head to his fellow captain and smiled with a savage grin, “You are reporting to our superiors.”

She stared at him, then cursed vehemently for some time as she stomped around the room before stopping and staring at her nominal captain, “Fine. Fine! I’ll take care of the report. Let’s go.”

What followed was a savage destruction of the once proud Galgandar clan. Very few people were hurt and none died, although the Patriarch of the Galgandar clan was left deeply scared. What treasures and wealth the clan had was unearthed in violent displays of power which rapidly turned into violent displays of disgust when said treasures proved to be nothing, the prison guards of Aelthron’s Cradle found nothing. And Dao Wind almost turned upon the city, sent out in destructive search of any treasure vaults or protected locations her Dao could find. Great panes of shadow rose to block her raging strikes, and soon she was pulled from the city and returned with her captain to the capital plane. Her rage, as violent as it was, cooled quickly. His was a calm smooth ocean covering a deep rumbling rush of magma deep below. He was deeply dissatisfied and she quickly grew quieter and more concerned. Their return was silent and awkward.

* * *

While the city suffered nothing from the two prison guards and the Galgandar clan, though torn up with all their treasures ripped from destroyed treasure vaults and scattered across the greens of the clan grounds, suffered very lightly under the overwhelming power of the two prison guards. All their treasures remained and they could recover quite easily. However, upon the heels of the prison guards came many various clans and the powerful Dragon Spears.

Some of the greatest clans competed on almost equal footing with the Dragon Spears, and the various treasures of the Galgandar clan, though belittled and scoffed at, was quickly snatched up by the Dragon Spears. The clans, especially the greatest, found little of worth amongst the treasures.

With the greatest clans and the Dragon Spears claiming the clan itself, the lesser clans and Dungeon Guardians scattered into the wealthy districts surrounding the Galgandar holdings. Ironically, despite the two or three walls that protected the inner city and the clan, the safest place to be was the poor area of the outer city.

But if the people crowding the gate to exit the city had been leaving in an orderly fashion before, chaos erupted with the arrival of terrified powerful Coushar elites and wealth, pushing for escape clutching desperately and treasures while glancing behind fearfully. Any effort to maintain an orderly exit collapsed as Coushar city elites whipped their guards into a frenzy against the poor masses that blocked their escape. The streets surrounding the gate to the city of Coushar ran red and panic trampled many, many more.

* * *

The Priests of Saga and the agents of LEAP had turned away from the clan lands, marching into the outer city seeking reports from their various agents. The Saga priests found easy escape, marching directly to the Saga temple and meeting with the local leadership and seeking greater information. The LEAP found refuge in another local temple but sought out agents from all temples. There was a brief clash at the Saga temple when the LEAP agent arrived, but it was quickly resolved although the Saga delegates were extremely cautious to hide, not wishing to be revealed to anybody, even LEAP.

* * *

Once they’d escaped the walls of the city, their carriage made rapid time but Gwenvair had the driver slow to allow her people to catch up, a massive line of carts, carriages, and wagons snaking behind her. The relief of escape proved to be infectious and soon a rolling celebration broke out as the carts, carriages, and wagons continued to roll along the road at a slow pace while many of the people who were not driving leapt from their conveyances to wander the road and greet each other with great joy. The line of burdened vehicles stretched into the distance and slowly disappeared into the trees.

* * *

The people who’d fled the city breathed with sweet relief while outside, the wealthy willing to brave the forests with the guards to quickly find a location to bury or hide treasure in hopes to keep it, and the poor wandering near the walls with fearful glances towards the forest far in the distance.

Most crowded against the walls of the city, recognizing the safety in provided and refusing to leave it. They continued to hold out hope that invading marauders would soon leave and they could return to safety behind the walls.

Others more observant, noticed the long line of well prepared and well packed carts and wagons slowly disappearing into the depths of the forest. Many, despite noticing such things, remained hidden under the shadows of the walls, but some, with courage, curiosity, and a desire to explore quickly sped after and attached themselves to the end of the long train of escaping wagons.

* * *

Zilnek had found himself seeking the deepest darkest parts of the poorest and grungiest sections of the city, terror driving him after he had found Joe’s cloak draped across from him. He’d heard the uproar in the city and the distant roars of a loud crowd, but he had no desire to expose himself. But as he shivered in fear and tried to bury himself beneath the dingy walls behind him, a strange individual in well dressed individual in rather flowing robes came for him.

Joe saw him coming down the street from quite some distance away, and he spent the next couple of bells desperately seeking escape, but the individual seemed to always be able to find him, and soon he found himself trapped in a dead end under the scrutiny of calculating eyes.

“So… interesting. And so pure! So, so pure! So many, too! So strange.”

Then he thought and felt nothing.

* * *

Joe walked into a completely different city, the demographics very different with most of the people being an odd looking kin Joe couldn’t quite place at all; and almost all of them were this species of people. There were no others. The slave master marched him out quickly, across the city and further out towards the city gates. Situated near the city gates, a small rundown looking shop with an overly large stable yard ran a brisk business. In front of the shop sat a large carriage with a good eight horses pawing at the ground and anxiously waiting to head out. Joe stopped, stunned…. Joe walked on, without any reaction or change in pace, perfectly five paces behind. Joe’s rage swamped his shock at seeing the massive horses, for they were exactly that: massive horses much larger than anything on Earth. Despite his curiosity, the range inducing loss of control tore away any curiosity he had towards the horses and turned his thoughts back to escape.

The slave master made it to the shop door and turned to Joe, “Stand here. Do not move. Wait for my return.”

Joe found himself frozen to the spot, and grimaced with anger. After the slave master entered the shop, Joe immediately turned in his spot, and grinned. But when he tried to raise his foot, he found it nailed to the ground and Joe’s despair rose another notch. He snarled, slamming it back down deep into his gut, buried under nothingness and attempted to erase it from himself. It didn’t disappear. He turned and looked around, turning in place as much as he liked, even swinging his arms and considering everything before grimacing once more and turning back to the depths of the city and tried to raise a foot. It did not move. A sob broke through his control but he evaporated it before a swath of rage and fought more.

“Ya know. You’ll never lift a foot, ya git! Ya right caught same as me.”

Joe paused at that comment and looked up to see a man lounging in the carriage, staring down at him. Joe just stared back.

“No point in fightin’ it. Ya can’t beat it,” the man replied once again and raised his neck while brushing his hair to the side, a collar of burnt red under it all. The man smirked.

“Ya got yerself in a platinum. Ya must be a bigwig. Oh! Ya… that makes sense. I can smell it on yer mana. Yer some Eccentric, ain’t ye! Got yerself some o’ that Eccentric mana! But, even an Eccentric not getting out o’ that collar,” he whistled at that while shaking his head.

“Don’t tell me what’s not possible. Tell me what can get you out.”

The man snorted, “No one has gotten out. Ya get out only at death.”

Joe snorted in return, “Impossible. The rich and wealthy will always have a way out or they will have to fear being captured themselves.”

“You think the powerful will get caught? Where are ya from, ya stupid Eccentric!? Never thought Eccentric’s ta be so dumb!”

“There’s always someone more powerful,” Joe growled back.

The man’s cocky attitude evaporated, and he looked at Joe with bitter caution, “Exactly.”

Joe said nothing and shook his head, dismissing him and turning back to his thoughts and his surroundings. His gaze and thoughts found nothing, and he had to stoke his anger to smother the small swell in despair. He turned back to the wagon and the man notice Joe’s small moment.

“Heh… finally get to ya, eh? Works best if ya just accept it.”

Joe looked at the man and smirked, “You only loose when you quit.”

The man looked at Joe, then snarled with anger and bit off a curse before turning away in rage, “Suck Loki’s hairy sac, base fool.”

Joe snorted and turned away once again, not wishing to spend more any time on the man and this time looked at the carriage carefully. He quickly noticed that it seemed to be full of a variety of people and all of them appeared to be collared like him, although seeing inside was difficult. He continued looking around, desperate to find any option he could. Despite his efforts, he found himself frozen in place and unable to truly do anything, his thoughts railing for freedom but his body trapped.

When the slave master came out of the shop he was in, he came up to Joe and waved at the cart, “Get into the cart, remain in the cart until the cart driver commands you to exit. Obey the person who picks you up at the next stop.”

Joe tried to hide his angry grimace, but the man seemed to understand exactly what was happening and simply sighed as he shook his head. He glanced back up and looked at Joe.

“I tell everyone this, but no one listens. There is no point to fight. There is no escape. You will come to accept your place, even like and enjoy it, finding pride in your work that you will do for your master. Fighting only causes you pain. I do not understand why people like you chose to harm yourself.”

Joe decided he’d had enough, the man wasn’t coming with him, so there was little reason to restrain himself, “You cannot twist morality. You control everything, therefore you are the cause and to blame. A sword or spear is no more to blame for a murder than I. You are the cause and you are to blame. Any pain and suffering any slave has under you is caused by you and you alone.”

The slave master actually flinched a bit at that, his lips curling then suddenly flattening as he struggled to control himself. He continued, “A thinker then, but do not foolishly think you have no agency. You could easily end this by accepting. That is your agency.”

“As it is also a victim’s agency to simply allow a vile criminal to do as the criminal wills. Is the blame to be given to the victim if they struggle to survive and fight back? Is a man simply to allow a murderer to kill him because that is his agency?”

The man’s mouth twitched before he finally grimaced and turned away, “Go. Follow my previous commands and meet your new slave master.”

Joe found his feet moving, his body turning as he climbed into the cart. His now gone slave master wandered down the street, not happy at all, and Joe grinned, happy to find some joy in it. He went into the cart and once in, stopped. He found he had control of his body once again and sighed before taking a look around. He couldn’t get off, and even thinking of attempting it either, deliberately or by ‘lucky happenstance’ that he fell off, his body immediately froze and rejected his attempts. He sighed and sat down.

“Hahahahaha!” a loud boisterous laugh rang out in the cart as the man who’d spoken before began once again, “Good job, ya git! No you’ve made ‘em angry. Always a genius move. They like to work extra special on ones like ya.”

Joe looked up at the man, staring, “Then you’ve been here many times. Either you do not learn and need lots of training, or … you actually have accepted your lot then… and you help them.”

The man grew very silent at that and Joe grinned with a scowl, “A coward and traitor. How nice to meet you!”

The man scowled, enraged and struck out, aiming to hit Joe on his face with a hard right slap. Joe smirked viciously, his left hand rising automatically in autonomous reflex, slamming with huge force into the man’s right forearm and slapping it back with ease. His right hand snapped out and clawed at the man’s neck.

“Yeah. You don’t want to do that,” Joe held him there while bringing up his right knee across his center towards his left leg in preparation of an attack at his groin or stomach while keeping an eye on the man’s left arm.

“I might not be able to leave this cart, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make your life miserable on this cart. I’d suggest you shut that pie hole of yours and sit quietly from now on.”

The man quickly controlled himself, his face a smorgasbord of anger and fear. Joe saw he’d been cowed and his scowl and quickly turned to disdain. Joe’s anger was out of control, he knew that, but he was able to wrestle it down and stepped back with incredible effort. All he wanted to do was rage and kill anyone or anything he could even remotely blame.

He returned back to his seat and closed his eyes. Right… I’m pissed. Got that… but let’s see if I can’t … Calm. Find my center. Joe didn’t close his eyes, he didn’t want to leave any weakness, especially with the way he’d reacted so poorly with the guy. The man probably deserved it, especially if he was now helping enslave more people, but … stupid… really stupid.

Joe tried to plan, considering anything he could but found himself to agitated, so he turned instead to finding a peace he could work with. In the middle of it all, the cart lurched, and they began to move. Joe felt it and knew it, but remained lost in trying to find a way out. And he remained as lost until they’d made it to their destination and his body automatically stood to leave the cart when the cart driver announced their journey's end.

His body’s automatic rise to his feet jarred him from his attempt to find peace and an escape. There was a single person there, an older gentleman who seemed to be kindly. He smiled to see them all and waved at them.

“Welcome, all, to your new home and a wonderful experience at your new training camp. Please, follow me. You will find this a rather enjoyable experience as we train you to be the best you can be, an excellent help and service to your future masters. Please follow me and prepare for your wonderful experience.”

Joe kind of tuned out everything else after that, although it seemed like his mind couldn’t actually ignore the man’s words as they entered his mind and remained there. His mind seemed to capture each of the man’s words, parse them carefully, then try to understand if there was a command for him. That thought quickly amplified his fear and he struggled to maintain his composure even as a few tears began to well up in his eyes. The grandfatherly guide seemed to be prescient and was quickly at his side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s not that bad. You’ll do just fine. You haven’t lost anything. You are simply beginning a new journey in your life! Embrace it. You will do well.”

Joe struggled to hold back his rage at hearing the man’s kindly demeanor painting a life of slavery as some kind of simple career change. He did nothing, continuing to march along the street while repeatedly clenching his teeth trying to not shrug off the man’s arm around his shoulders.

“Ah… one of those. Young man. You’d do well to find enjoyment in your stay. You will do well, son. Listen to me. I will do well by you, my son.”

Joe remained silent and stoic throughout it all and the man finally sighed and turned away back to the beginning of the line. But all Joe repeated in his mind, over and over again as they traveled thorugh the forest, was. I am NOT your son. I am NOT your son. Shut your MOUTH! And do not claim me as your son! His mind continued to rage, shuddering under the hatred that flamed there even as he stalked silently through the forest. After a time, Joe found himself under control again and they walked into a rather crude camp in the meadow deep in the woods. Joe found the walk interminable, a never ending walk through a tunnel of green that passed by with Joe in a perpetual daze. The walk through the forest ended so quickly, Joe felt no time at all had passed, and he found himself deep in the woods coming into a small meadow surrounded by green forests. In the center of the meadow a small motte and bailey sat in the center, the castle up on a small hill while at the base of the hill a village mostly of tents sprawled. A wooden wall stretched around the whole thing, passing around the base of the hill that the bailey sat upon. The bailey also sported a second wall of wood, much better in construction which included a walkway around its edges to allow defenders to hold the top of the wall. This wall was at the top of the hill upon which the bailey sat.

Joe wanted to stop and take it all in, to consider options for escape and take in the lay of the land, but his feet refused to stop, continually walking towards the village. The grandfatherly man who’d try to treat him like a son continued to jabber about meaningless drivel designed to break the spirit and prepare them to forever lose any agency. He ignored it, yet deep in his mind, his thoughts quailed. They came upon the motte too early, the gate to the walls opening before them quickly before letting them inside.

Once inside, Joe found himself in control once again, and looked around quickly, taking in everything and even started to slide off into one of the alleyways to the side. He didn’t even make it past a turn when the friendly slave master called out.

“All new comers, follow me to the square. You will learn of the rules there. Come. Come! You new wonderful life awaits! You will love it! Follow the rules and you will have an amazing time! Come, come!”

No! No! This… no… can’t listen to more rules! Can’t let this… gotta stop this.. gotta … wish I could shift my char: from that language skill! But… what can I do… I’m stuck! I have to listen… I gotta… listen. The last statement seemed to weigh upon him like a cloak, and he railed, wildly, while desperately seeking any other options.

While Joe’s mind raced, everyone turned and shuffled after him and Joe noticed several others having a similar plan as him, a good three or four struggling to escape into the back streets of the small village. It likely wouldn’t have been meaningfully useful at all, and it was even likely a stupid idea since it only put him in the spotlight. But since Joe had already pretty much screwed himself over with his actions before, he wasn’t sure that there was any real reason to try to fake compliance.

When they made it to the square, another good couple dozen other slaves had joined them in the square. Others from this village? There’s… a lot! There numbers swelled a good five or six times what had come in with him on the wagon. Everyone who’d joined them moved rather robotically, coming to stand in lines and prepared to listen to whatever the announcements were. The veterans lined up in a curved shape around the outside and the man who’d brought them to the village came to the front of the U that was formed by the veterans. He turned and faced the veteran slaves but turned to the new slaves.

“Please. Come, welcome our new brothers. Come and sit here in the middle: the place of honor!”

Joe clenched his teeth and found his body stuttering to move and he simply moved into it. When all were in the middle in a clump, the man smiled and nodded.

“Welcome to your new home and the beginning of a new and wondrous life! Come to accept who you and your new role and life will be amazing for you. Now. Line up and prepare yourself well.”

All the newbs stared at one another and Joe initiated before things turned bad, rather certain things would be bad. He came to stand in a line equal to one of the others veterans. The others quickly noticed and duplicated his movement, spacing themselves out to be similar to the veterans surrounding them. Several of the others seemed to be idiots, and just stared at what everyone else was doing. Joe grimaced, glancing around quickly and felt his face fall when he saw some of the veteran slaves beginning to grin with a mockery. Oh… crap. This isn’t…

Joe began to open his mouth, but the grandfather seemed to notice and smiled softly and quickly shook his head at Joe. Joe struggled, but was unable to speak, his mouth moving, but his voice box unable to make any noise. He watched on, helpless, unable to speak or offer a warning.

After a rather limited amount of time, the grandfatherly figure shook his head with a soft sad smile, “It seems you have failed rather miserably. Maybe our veterans can teach you.”

All of the veterans began grinning, several chuckling evilly and a few started stepping out of the line. The grandfatherly man suddenly stiffened, enraged.

“IN. LINE! Who released you!”

The men who’d moved froze, their evil cheer suddenly turning to terror.

The slave master roared out, “Punishment!”

The men who’d moved began gibbering in fear even as their collars turned into eldritch horrors, massive spikes, curving needles, and twisted braiding ropes of metal erupted outwards to flog each of the men who’d moved as well as a good number of the newbs that hadn’t gotten lined up correctly. There were even a few who had actually lined up well that seemed to fall to the punishment and Joe found himself flabbergasted, struggling to understand what he was seeing while also terrified by what was around his neck. He almost reached up to grab it then forced himself to stop, remaining still and in place.

The men that were being punished for whatever imaginary reason writhed on the ground as metal dug into skin, either in stabs or abrading painfully across the skin as it twisted tightly around arms, legs, torsos, and for one person, even the head, slicing across the nose and ears, painfully ripping them from the woman’s skull. Joe ground his teeth, watching on while unable to really do anything. The man that had started this horrid result slowly began to smile again, then shook his head sadly with great disappointment.

“Why can you not learn? It is simple. Obedience is wonderful. It is… incredibly pleasurable. Can you not see that? All pleasure!”

Joe shuddered along with everyone else on the field as orgasmic pleasure swept across everyone on the field, the ones on the ground writhing from the tendrils of metal also moaned as pleasure swept through them. A great shuddering swept through him even as he felt pleasure greater than he thought possible, and it stayed, and it stayed. And Joe’s mind began to blank even as his conscious gibbered in terror as he attempted to shut off what was happening to him. He knew exactly what would happen if he didn’t get this under control. And he knew that he was already trembling on the edge as the pleasure had been… overwhelming.

When he came to, he found himself lolling on the ground, along with almost everyone else, although a couple of the veteran slaves had already begun standing again. Joe lolled his head, basking in the pleasurable afterglow, a dumb smile on his face. Why are they getting up… just enj… Something in him screamed in horrified terror and realization came to him hard. His gibbering terror increased massively, and his rage barely was able to keep it in check. He looked around and found more standing up, and he quickly rose to his own feet as well even as he struggled to keep the fear from showing on his face. The veterans all struggled to stand quickly while the newbs continued rolling on the ground enjoying the dregs of the pleasure. Joe stood and growled out, turning to the other newbs.

“Up! Get…”

His voice ended when the leader growled out quickly, “Quiet!”

Joe stared at the man, and tried to continued speaking but found his throat closed. He glared, and the slave master stared back him, his face dropping even as he sighed in disappointment, like a father frustrated at a poorly trained and disobedient child.

“Will you never learn? It is a good life! Do well… obey, and you will find so much enjoyment. Such a disappointment,” the man ended with a shake of his head and a sad smile.

Joe grimaced and turned to face forward, ignoring the others that still lolled about. There was little he could do, and he had no desire to instigate the man. Even as he stood with resolve, his heart quaked as he knew he would break, and he would break quickly. Somehow, he had a connection directly into the pleasure center of his brain, and no one. He clenched his teeth even as he struggled to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. The tears were in some way an acknowledgment of the terror that chittered through him. Yet he clung desperately to hope that he would somehow be able to fight this.

The man turned away, ignoring him after shaking his head in sadness and Joe’s failure to better himself, and Joe trembled in place. The man turned to look at those still lolling on the ground, and this time called out punishment once again.

Those on the ground all shuddered, the pleasure wiped away by the pain that suddenly shook them, the needles and spears of metal spiking outwards to tear at flesh. Even several of the veterans who’d stood up quickly collapsed as there collars began tearing away at their bodies and Joe began to wonder why they’d received punishment. The ability to work at the idea freed his mind from the terror of what he was experiencing and he found some solace in it, scratching obsessively at it in an attempt to understand.

After a few moments, the slave master seemed to find the punishment enough and shook his head in disappointment.

“It’s so easy to understand. Just follow and obey. There is nothing but to follow and obey. Obedience brings pleasure. Disobey, and you will know nothing but pain.”

Joe began to zone out the man’s words, but somehow, they shuddered in his mind in a way that he struggled to fight against. They were just there, no matter how much Joe zoned out. They echoed in his mind like divine writ, powerful and enticing and so terrifying Joe found himself desperately seeking any form of escape. Please… please… gotta get… I can’t turn of the language char: so what can I do… what’s…

“We do not bring you pain here. What we do for you is good for you! We do not harm you! It is for your own good, so you can be the best slave possible for your master. Any pain is your own fault. Any pleasure is because we want what is best for you! Even the pain is for your good! It is to help you be the best for your master!”

Joe struggled, terror flooding through him, growing. I have to listen… I have to listen… I have to listen to Kainaro… that’s what he sai… Joe blinked, realization rushing through him and hope slapping into his fear in a resounding crash. Joe glanced around in hopes no one had noticed and quickly returned to his thoughts. That easy? Could I do … this … he is not Kainaro, so I can choose to turn of my language… A heavy weight that had been upon him, somehow, shifted slightly, then more, and finally seemed to lift. Joe struggled to keep the hope from his face and the tears that threatened to swamp his eyes.

“We are good. You will see. What we do for you is good! Now, let us turn to the rules of this fine camp where you will become upstanding citizens and amazing productive members for your slave masters to come.”

NO! No, no, no, no, no! I can’t listen to these… I cannot! Panic swamped through him again and fear robbed him of thought and control. If I hear the commands, then… Joe blinked, fear returning in a wild rush as the slave master appeared to be too perceptive and turned towards Joe. The man began walking up to him, compassion writ large on his face even as Joe gibbered in rising terror! No! No… no no! Change polyglot language skill char: to commoner cudgel!

There is no language skill in the polyglot job.

No! No… His fear turned to madden terror as he stared at the pop up while also attempting to pretend he wasn’t doing exactly that. The man was almost directly in front of him now, and Joe struggled to keep his eyes front and center. Don’t look at the status… Don’t! Don’t! Playing with his status in front of this man was probably a real dumb idea, but his time was running out. If he tells me to never open my status… or do anything… His mind scattered into nothing, and he found himself frozen in terror. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything. The unexpected reality of what was happening to him stole everything from him and the certainty of being able to control his own mind and thoughts shattered against what the slave master had already done to him. And when he realized that his own mind would easily and inevitably become turned against him; that he would soon become an addict desperately chasing the next high only to please this man and receive pleasure, his mind couldn’t think anymore. Terror twisted all his thoughts, making him unable to think clearly. Polyglot skill… char: to … commoner! Uh… cudgel! Now!

Error. Request incomprehensible.

The slave master finally stepped in front of him, beginning to speak, “Now. Some of you may believe that you have some hope.”

Joe’s mind skittered, water on a hot plate, incapable of thinking clearly as he desperately stared straight forward and, dismissed popup after popup of failed requests and wrong demands while trying oh so hard to keep his face blank and not showing he was working with his status. Yet, his thoughts continued to shatter under the weight of his panic.

“But you don’t need hope,” the slave master said, standing directly in front of him and staring at him with a soft yet saddened smile of disappointment.

His teeth clenched even as his eyes vibrated in terror, struggling to stare straight ahead. He clamped down hard on his fear and decided he had no choice, and called up his available skills page while desperately hoping that he would be able to somehow position the skill page in front of his eyes in such a way that his eyes wouldn’t move. Gotta move the page… my eyes don’t move…. The page moves… yeah… the page moves… slides under my eyes so I can read without moving my eyes. The page moves… not your eyes… not your eyes1

“Don’t you understand? This is a good thing that has happened to you. These collars are good! They are good for you. Just… accept it. Submit to the good that you will soon have.”

Terror evaporated before utter rage as his anger spiked hotly. This is good? You piece of fu… Joe’s mind tore in two, one part still gibbering madly at attempting to read his status while another spiraled into uncontrolled hatred and rage, curses and violence the likes he’d never considered or spoken before. Vitriol raged upwards through him as panic drove him to become a man he never thought he’d ever become. He wanted to terrorize this small village, killing all within it and taking a special pleasure in a torture so vile and yet absolutely what Joe wanted more than anything else in this moment. Terror and rage twisted simultaneously in his mind, overwhelming any violent disgust even as he turned said hatred upon the mental versions he had created so he could release his rage against someone… something.

“So. Be a good kid. Accept it. You will see. I am ve… we all are very kind. You will enjoy your new place,” the man continued to stare at him and reached up to cup his palm softly on Joe’s cheek with tender care.

Joe’s mind skittered away in horror, then rage. His right hand reached up to rip the man’s throat out. His hand did not move. His left hand reached up to twist the man’s arm, breaking his forearm and ripping the arm out of his shoulder socket. His left arm did not move. His right leg snapped forward in a rapid kick straight to the man’s groin. It did not move.

His mind shattered into three, one in panicked terror attempting to change his skill, one in rage as it cursed, and rained torture down upon his enemies in his mind, and one attempting to drive his body to tear into the man before him. He couldn’t keep the tears from starting to trickle down his face. The man sighed, and brushed them away with his thumb. Joe’s reaction to that moment of intimacy was volcanic, his rage nuclear as all other emotions evaporated before his wrath.

* * *

Rage greater than anything else she’d ever felt broke through, shattering upon her like a tsunami and she jolted. Around her, the others shivered as well then turned to look at her, deeply concerned. She looked at them, her own fear quickly spiking when she realized who the source of anger was.

“Joe!”

Xylarnae quickly nodded, “Yes. Go. We cannot support you yet.”

Gwenvair nodded and quickly sat cross legged while the others surrounded her. Her eyes closed and she reached out to Joe, Hearing him.

Joe! Joe! What’s wrong… Calm do…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a massive influx of panicked rage, and images of Joe being attacked and captured. Panic and pain stuttered through it all and she felt her own fear and worry quickly spike up into terror. Who could attack him? How… No! Help!

She quickly calmed herself and turned to Joe. Calm. Peace. I am here. You can do this. Focus on what needs done and defend yourself! Calm. You can do this!

Her words faded then disappeared as she simply replaced her words with the depth of her concern and trust for him, investing what she could into it with as deep of support as she could offer, knowing that it was the best she could offer at this time. She pushed all of her heart towards him and pulled in Kilniara’s love for him as well, reaching out to Xylarnae and Kalia for what little they had to offer. She found herself quite surprised by how much commitment Xylarnae offered, a deep one hundred percent promise to of support although it was rather devoid of any meaningful personal emotion or connection. Kalia was a disappointment, offering only a respect for what he could possibly one day become, entwined with a deep greed for personal gain of her own. She ripped out the greed and offered the respect, at least. She pushed, and soon felt Joe calm, the rage evaporating before her efforts, although the panicked fear remained. A few moments later, even that was gone.

For herself, she kept her own panic and fear far from her thoughts even as she struggled to support him.

* * *

Suddenly, Joe, for some reason, began thinking of Gwenvair, a calm peace enveloping him poorly hiding a deeply worried curiosity. He ignored it all, only grateful for the calm, and the that peace quickly came to him, deeply suffusing through him and giving him strength. His mind sharpened and his focus returned, even as his rage and fear was pushed aside by the remembrance of Gwenvair and her friends awaiting him. Even the thought of Kilniara shone through, although Joe shied away from it rapidly, still too pained and hurt to deal with it. His calm quickly centered him, his scattered thoughts quickly pulling back into one purpose of pure focus and he was able to focus rapidly on exactly what he needed to do.

Status. Available skills… Joe’s eyes darted rapidly down the list, free now to move his eyes as the, his mind scattered under raging hate once again before snapping back again, thoughts of Gwenvair and the others encompassing and supporting him. He’s not here… I can read fine now… He quickly found the polyglot job. It was still the last education job listed in his available skills list, appearing right before the jobs from other trees which were all of different colors. He breathed. The slave master continued.

“But, you cann…”

Change polyglot language expertise one char: to Commoner cudgel!

“idu asfyhj apsiuf auojonar. Yuf en sar…”

Joe hid his sag of relief, not wanting to let the man know he’d succeeded. For the first time since he’d come here, Joe felt a small amount of real hope.