Castle Alvric, The City of Alva.

“Eons ago, Vorthe claimed a third of the territories on the western continent, including Alvric land. None could stop him, not even Argonaut. He unified the land and gave territories to those who pledged allegiance to him. Powerful clans were allowed to keep their lands, but their heirs and elites were to be raised in Farryn — with levies paid yearly in essence crystals.

“Alvric to the South near the Southern Sea, the giants of Baelor to the West in the forest of redwood that stretches forever, Fei who settled near the Eastern Seas, and Itakar of the frozen earth to the North. Four great houses brought tributes to pay obeisance to the new power. They did not like it, but they sure as hell could do nothing about it.

“We became the guard dogs of Vorthe. Shielding the kingdom from outside influences, our dissatisfaction and discontent we swallowed, while Vorthe raised a force unto himself. One so great, the legions of Pathuma would have trembled before them in their time.

“While the rest of the great forces calmly accepted this rule. We rebelled once in a while. But why would we not? Alvric has existed sixteen generations before Vorthe ever was born. Alvric is the oldest in the land. Our ancestors refused Vorthe’s rule, they assembled themselves to seek the help of the sacred Argonaut. Plans were made. We set forth toward the Central City of the new empire called Vorthe.”

“Wait, I thought Vorthe is a kingdom and not an empire father?” Hedon asked, looking askance.

“At the time it was praised as an empire,” Nolan answered. “The first Sovereign feared the actions of the powers that be at the time, so he used the term ‘kingdom’ — just a nuance to take their eyes off him.

“He had the heart of a mouse and yet declared himself a king!” he spat. “They never deserved to rule; hiding in their Central City for decades before announcing to the world that a new power reigned in the East of the continent!”

Hedon did his best not to show how scared he was, sitting before his father. He kept his breathing even and his hands clenched in fists to keep them from shaking. He was seated inside a scripted circle of power that kept at bay, the powerful aura of his Sage Realm father. This array was a gift from the Argonaut — the new Argonaut he had brought with him from Terra Praeta. With it, he was impervious to the aura and pressure of a sacred artist of equal power. Anything beyond the Sage Realm and the array would shatter from the weight of the presence. The circle of power would still work, but not for a being more powerful than a Sage.

The Hold, it was called — a wisp of the Argonaut’s power. The Hold was one of the strangest artifacts — or was it a technique? Hedon didn’t know. It was the strangest artifact he had ever seen or received. It was not a physical substance, it had no attribute and simply existed as he lived. If he died the circle of power died with him. The might of a Transcendent being was not one to be trifled with. The Argonaut probably had more powerful skills and techniques in its arsenal of weapons.

Oh, how he was lauded with praise when he arrived back to his world, back to Farryn. The Argonaut had quickly created a diversion and helped them clear hundreds of thousands of miles in a single leap — at least that was how he thought of portals. He was not knowledgeable of how portals worked.

Now he was being given the Royal treatment he deserved. Women and wine were aplenty and night-long parties were thrown in his honor. He wished this could last forever. But he knew it would have to end eventually — sooner rather than later, even.

They had dealt Vorthe a slap to the face and Vorthe, being the Superpower of this side of the world, would not take things lying down. Well now that the Argonaut — the true Argonaut in all its glory — was here, there was nothing to worry about.

“Anyway,” his father spoke up, bringing him out of his reverie. “When our ancestors reached the new city, the Argonaut refused to set foot in it.”

Hedon’s heart nearly ceased. Did that mean that this Argonaut would refuse to face the Sovereign should they ever come under attack?

“It tensed up…and fled back South. No amount of veneration and glorification changed its mind and our ancestors were left to sort themselves out. That day we learned what it meant to be a Transcendent. What it meant to truly be a god amongst men. Ever since then, we planned and plotted. Waiting, and hoping for this day to come.

“And now we are here. In our homeland,” Nolan stood up and gestured to Hedon to join him. They walked toward the terrace of their castle overlooking the sea and breathed in the salt-filled air.

This was the City of Alva; grand and beautiful but dwarfed by the size and beauty of Farryn. Here the Alvrics were royalty, they held all the power. And since they had taken the step to break away from Vorthe, Hedon knew they were going to make the city grander than it currently is.

“Vorthe will bring the fight to us, Hedon. But we have something to counter them with, besides the Argonaut. Something more subtle.

“The Argonaut was your victory Hedon,” his father said, bringing him back to the conversation. Hedon felt his father’s proud gaze on him and smiled proudly to himself. He held his head high and squared his shoulders. “Yet we have more to use against the Royal family.”

This was what he had always wanted: for his father to look proudly at him. For his people to look at him with pride and respect. He had earned it and he was going to make damn sure the whole world knows it!

But then his father looked at his missing arm. The arm that the Royal lap dog took as a trophy — or its replacement. His father had commissioned a metal arm from House Tarmin, the House of Steel. An evidence of his youthful incompetence. Many would glory in the fact that they fought with magical beasts and came out alive showing their scars as a badge of honor. But he could not show off with his battle scar, yet this scar was too conspicuous to hide.

What tale would he tell when asked how he lost his arm? That a Sprout who was four years his junior cut it off in battle? He would become the laughingstock of Alvric. Hedon clenched his jaw as anger threatened to take him over.

His father’s tone turned grave and serious all of a sudden, “You see, Vorthe has a nightmare of a creature in their keeping. Caged. Yet, they let loose from time to time, to sow chaos and destruction in the kingdom. I planned to find this monster. To kill it, or tame it if possible.

“I had been planning this for decades. Such a creature, if tamed, would be a great addition to one’s force. But yet again, Vorthe tarnished my plans.”

“This monster, father, what does it look like?” Hedon asked. This was his first time hearing of such a thing. But a certain person came to mind: his growls and inhuman behavior at Blade’s Edge Canyon; his ability to shrug off death as if he was different from other sacred artists.

No one listened to Hedon when he told the tale of his experience with Vorthe’s lapdog, Jerome. He had lost three Sprouts to Vorthe and a number of Blanks at the time. His father had punished him severely for that.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Though perhaps he would listen now. Perhaps he could exonerate himself now. “Father,” he began, “back then at Blade’s Edge Canyon,” he frowned at the memory of his blunders — not blunders as in he made a mistake in confronting the wrong person, but that he didn’t finish the job — he should have been a lot more ruthless at the time, “that boy really was how I said he was. He had an inhuman strength—”

“Let the past remain in the past, Hedon,” his father interrupted him curtly. “There is no need to mention the failures of the past. Only look forward to the victories of the future.”

“As you say, father,” he acquiesced with a slight bow of his head.

Nolan Alvric groaned. “You have spoiled my mood, son. I will call upon you at a later time to have more discussions. In the meantime, leave me to my thoughts. There is much I need to brood over.”

Hendon bowed and quickly left his father’s personal chambers. He held in his dissatisfaction. His father still viewed him as a child, he still showed him no respect after all that he had achieved. It was he who brought the Argonaut to their world, who made it possible for them to unite with their clan in Alvric lands. Yet he was being treated as a child. As if his opinions mattered little.

He thought about asking out one of his uncles — a member of the council — and discussing his issues but he quickly tamped down the urge. He wouldn’t bow to his father’s whims. He would prove himself over and over until his father had no choice but to acknowledge him as a man, an independent, capable of being his own person, capable of leading his people to victory over dangerous foes.

It was his destiny to reign over many, to be praised and revered, to rule! And not even his father would stop his destiny!

~~~

“You never cease to amaze, Jerome,” Trudhorn praised as they rushed out of the cave. He had tried everything in his power to get himself out of that hole to no avail. Only for Jerome to dive in and…whatever it was Jerome did, he had never heard of it before. Physically, he didn’t ‘do’ anything. But Trudhorn recognized the workings of mental energy when he saw it. He wasn’t born yesterday. However, he wasn’t able to figure out how Jerome could hide his mental energy at such a young age.

And then there was his companion. Trudhorn found it extremely difficult to restrain himself around her. He was constantly glancing in her direction, his thoughts heading toward perverted routes. It took Jerome standing between them to stop him from reaching out to touch her, to caress her. Those plump lips he could see poking out under her red hood must be framed by a beautiful face. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss—

Jerome slapped him on the back of his head. “Focus!”

“Huh? Heh. Yes, sorry about that,” he stammered out a reply. Trudhorn had never found himself lusting after another woman. Even the Princess of Vorthe, as beautiful as the tales that are woven of her beauty made her seem, he never felt the urge to daydream of being with someone else other than Selene.

He looked away guiltily but Jerome didn’t say more. He only grabbed him by the waist. “Wait. Jerome what—”

They shot into the air, moving at speeds that should be impossible for a Sprout. Trudhorn’s brain could hardly process the view as they sped through tunnel after tunnel. He feared that they would hit a wall or reach a dead end and be trapped like he was. All because they were moving too fast.

“Jerome, you might want to slow down.”

“No time. Selene is being chased down by mutated magical beasts.”

They turned another sharp corner and Trudhorn resisted the urge to scream. He had never moved so fast in his life. It was overwhelming, and he had started to feel dizzy. The mention of Selene in danger, however, brought him back to his senses and he tensed. “Faster, Jerome. Faster!”

“Calm yourself. We’re almost there.”

Trudhorn looked at the woman on the other side of Jerome. To his relief, she was being carried by Jerome as well. It would be quite embarrassing if she could fly like Jerome. But what was he thinking, he had to focus on getting to the love of his life.

~~~

True to their lineage, the Itakars were blessed by the cold North of their world. Even in Terra Praeta, Bram could sense that the twins were not as fatigued as the rest of their teammates — like they could shrug off the cold, or it empowered them in its embrace. But no. He knew the truth about their bodies.

Their bloodline made it possible for them to live in the cold of the North, but when said cold became too much to bear, they succumbed to it. It just happened that they had greater levels of resistance against the cold. Like every other human, they would eventually succumb to it. For they were human down to their very bones.

Ajax stood to his left facing off against four of the strange creatures. The kid he once knew had grown into a man. He turned his head to his right to see Selene readying her weapons, her core spinning too slowly as she faced off against four of the same creatures. She was exhausted — both in body and core — they all were.

Nia, Tega, and the rest of their team were surrounded as well. The darn creatures had surrounded them and harassed them, forcing them to break up into smaller groups. All to rub it in their faces that they were superiors.

The creatures, whatever they were, with their wolf-like forms, were hunting them for sport. Bram recognized the savage glint in their eyes — one accompanied by intelligence, cunning, and something akin to joy — joy in the hunt. It was an instinctual part of predators that would always trump their intelligence.

And the reason they would have a chance to survive, for when predators get like this, the urge to kill can drive them mad. Bram looked at their newly bonded sacred beasts. All seven of them huddled together with their heads down and their tails between their legs — a position of submission. It was a good thing that Selene had learned how to bond magical beasts to make them sacred beasts before they came to Terra Praeta. That knowledge saved them throughout their escape from the daimon wolves.

Bram slowly removed the arrow from his bow. The demon wolves turned their sharp gazes on him, watching his every move.

That’s it. Focus on me yer bunch o’ smelly pups. He took out his dagger and slowly, oh so slowly pressed its edge against the skin of his palm.

“Selene.”

“Wha—Bram! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Simple. I distract ‘em, and ye get the jump on ‘em. I run to the edge of the cliff ‘n jump off. Ajax does his ‘jump thing’ and saves me. And we’re good… Good, right?”

“No, not good,” Selene hissed.

“Have you thought this through, Bram?” Ajax asked quietly. He was the only one not fussing among all three of them. The son of a bitch had obtained an artifact that helped him jump chunks of space within twenty arms span around him. Talk about luck. Bram sighed wistfully. This truly was a gamble he was playing. If only someone like Jerome was here to help even the odds.

“Because you’d be dead,” Selene continued, “And I’ll lose another spotter. Now put that fucking dagger a—”

Bram applied pressure and the blade cut into his skin, bringing with it stinging pain. Warm blood flowed to the surface and the demon wolves growled. Their eyes threatened to lose focus and some even began salivating at the sight of the blood that trickled down his hand.

Selene cursed at him for being reckless but he did not care. Right now, any plan is a good plan. No matter how reckless it felt.

Bram bolted, running to the edge of the mountain to his right. The demon wolves went into a frenzy and gave chase, just as he had predicted. It was up to Selene and Ajax to save the day now. What he was doing felt like throwing his life away, it felt like running away from responsibility, like taking the easy way out of trouble.

Selene never moved to attack. She never got the chance. As soon as the first demon wolf took a few steps, they were all consumed by flames, a conflagration so hot that it disintegrated them all in less than ten breaths.

Bram slowed down in his tracks. The perplexing look on everyone’s faces let him know that none of them knew what was going on.

“I leave you guys for a few seasons and you get into trouble like this. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” A very familiar, very welcome, yet annoying voice greeted his ears.

Bram looked up and chuckled. “Well, think of the daimon and he shall appear.”