Ethan needed time to collect himself after the explosion. His ears were ringing again, and he was breathing more dust than air. He made it shakily to his feet, dirt and debris falling from him as he did so. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the dim light of the glowing moss in the tunnel, revealing the fate of the four knights.

He’d dragged the first two away from the opening to avoid collateral damage, leaving them no worse than they had been before he’d reached them. The other two were a different story. The injured man he’d been dragging was completely buried. Ethan was only sure he was still there because of a single, exposed gauntlet. The shield-bearer was in a far more complicated situation.

He’d bravely stood between the devastation and his knights, but it had left him near death, his left arm and shield actually embedded in the makeshift wall of rock. Ethan approached him carefully, [Apollo’s Gaze] showing numerous bone fractures, lacerations, and severe trauma from the falling rocks. Strangely, Ethan’s skill showed nothing at all where the man’s left arm should be.

He remembered how the massive shield–now part of the wall–had appeared fastened to the man’s armor, and wondered if it may have been an unusual prosthesis. Feeling around the shoulder joint of the man’s dark armor, Ethan discovered that he was wrong. A few straps and buckles later, and the knight fell away from the wall, a perfectly intact left arm slipping out.

Ethan lowered him to the ground, then carefully moved him in line next to the other two injured knights. As he did so, he noticed a series of tattoos stretching from the man’s chest, and part way down his bicep. They were familiar, looking very similar to those he’d seen on the woman in silver…except they were a strange, sickly red.

“Maybe that’s what’s messing with my super vision?” he muttered, before turning his gaze back to the other two. Triage rules demanded he treat the most severely injured first, but the three patients were in nearly identical condition. Not wanting to waste time, he decided to help the shield-bearer first. The man seemed like he might be in charge, and he’d seen Ethan try to help–hopefully that made him the knight least likely to stab a friendly doctor.

His immediate instinct was to try to address the broken bones, but as he considered how to make a splint, his remaining unused skill popped into his head. The bow and arrow symbol on his hand was glowing with a soft yellow light… “To hell with it, maybe it’ll summon a doctor’s bag from the 50s or something.”

He began concentrating on what he’d need to do to treat the man’s injuries. Set the bones, brace for rehabilitation, disinfect, stitch, and cover wounds, stimulate clotting for internal bleeding… As he formulated the treatment plan in his mind, he felt a tugging at the symbol on his hand, and the sense of something extending from him, into the unconscious knight.

[Hand of Apollo], was working. Ethan’s eyes widened as his enhanced vision showed the man’s body rapidly healing. It was as if the results of every medical procedure he would have done were being applied in moments, and soon the knight’s body looked as if it had never been injured. Except for the left arm, which remained an odd blank spot when he directed [Apollo’s Gaze] at the extremity.

Ethan didn’t know how to react to the miracle he’d just performed. He’d seen more than a few displays of magic since he’d been ripped away from his vacation–even managed a couple of his own–but to a doctor, what he’d just witnessed made everything else seem insignificant.

He wanted to pause and admire his work, but he still had his instincts, and two more patients needed him. Besides, his exhaustion and dehydration were leaving him lightheaded, and there was a chance he’d pass out if his blood pressure dropped much lower. Shaking his head slightly and moving to his next patient, he tried to repeat what he’d done.

The second man’s injuries were similar, and required a near-identical treatment. However he also had several burns and abrasions that were beyond Ethan’s ability to diagnose. Absently he wondered if the injuries had been caused by one of the beast’s attacks, as he recalled his skill would only work on damage he already knew how to treat. “Apparently that doesn’t include firebreath,” he said, before moving to his final patient.

He cursed silently as he realized she was in slightly worse shape than the previous knight, and quickly put [Hand of Apollo] to work. As he was muttering about treatments however, he heard a groan, and realized she was awake. Her head was up, and appeared to be watching him, though he couldn’t tell with her helmet still on.

A moment later, she laid back down, seeming to lose consciousness. Ethan finished his work with a small chuckle. “I just treated severe internal injuries on someone still wearing a suit of armor. Last week I had to cut off some guy’s pants just to find where he’d cut his knee.”

At last finished, he moved to the side of the tunnel, and leaned back, finally allowing his battered, bleeding body to rest.

***

It only felt like moments later that he was peeling open eyes sealed with blood and dust, groggily swatting at the boot that was prodding his side. Barely aware of where he was, he looked up to see the black-armored knight standing over him, left arm dangling uselessly at his side.

“You’re awake,” Ethan muttered, before trying and failing to stand. The man started speaking in some unrecognizable language, a deep voice echoing from within his helm. Ethan found himself fixated on that helm. It was of plain design, with a single slit for a visor, and some scorched red plumage emerging from the top. A small, golden shield was emblazoned on the forehead, however, something the other two knights lacked.

Again, an armored toe pressed into his side, and the man repeated himself, this time the implied question sounding more like a threat and command combined. “I don’t understand you,” Ethan said, waving the man away. “Do you have water? I need…I need water,” he grumbled, trying to mime drinking.

The knight was still for a moment, before turning and walking back to the caved in side of the tunnel. Once there, he bent over the gauntlet of his fallen comrade. With deft movements, he used his one functioning arm to reveal the dead man’s own, tossing the armor aside, and pushing back the exposed sleeve.

Ethan saw a familiar tattoo, nearly identical to own: a small chest. The knight performed a series of strange gestures, after which the symbol glowed briefly, and a few items emerged. There were a couple of keepsakes, including a locket which the knight took reverently, and finally a small bag and canteen.

He returned, tossing Ethan the canteen, before placing the bag down carefully. While his doctor’s mind immediately went to potential toxins, parasites, and various germs and impurities, his body acted almost of its own accord. He quickly unstopped the container, and drank greedily, only pausing to breathe before emptying it.

He reached for the bag next as the knight watched silently, and found several dense lumps of what had to be food. Ethan knew military rations when he saw them, but still his stomach grumbled. As he tore into the meal, he spoke to the knight between bites. “Thank you. You’re saving my life right now, even if you don’t know it.” The helmet cocked to one side, and Ethan sighed. “This is going to be a bummer of a journey if you can’t understand me.”

As if hearing his words, the three swirls on his left forearm blinked, announcing another message. Ethan obediently opened the interface, then grinned at what he saw.

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Dalton’s Survival Recommendation: Consume Translation stone!

Consume now: (Y/N)?

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Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“Oh hell yes. Maybe this damn thing is finally taking requests.” Ethan resisted the urge to yell at his arm to give him some decent clothes, instead removing the black box from his inventory and retrieving the latest stone. He was happy to find that the knight was content to simply observe. In moments, the ink was disappearing into Ethan once more, and soon a feeling of coldness at his throat announced the presence of a new tattoo.

“Um, testing, testing?” he said, looking at the knight with equal parts hope and doubt.

“What did you do to my knights?” the man said, wasting no time.

“Oh, I…” he had not been prepared for this to happen so soon. As much as he wished the word ‘doctor’ meant something like ‘sheep-diddler’ in this world, he suspected the warning was more about healing in the general sense. “I brought them in here, like you saw, but they’re badly burned.”

Not a lie. Lies were bad. Not because lying was bad, but because being caught lying was very bad. Especially when the person who might catch you looked particularly capable of extreme violence. For his part, the man remained still, as if considering what he’d been told. I’d rather he not spend too long mulling this over.

“My name is Ethan Bishop,” he announced, wondering how his words sounded to this man. “I’m afraid I’m here quite by accident, and I don’t know who any of you are.”

“How in the names of the Three could you get into the lair of Flagras by accident?” he demanded.

“It’s a long, insane story. It involves portals and scorpion-bears, and I’m not sure you’d believe–”

“You came through a rift?” the knight said without hesitation. Oh, that’s a freebie, Ethan thought, eyebrows going up.

“I…guess so? I’m from far away, but I encountered this blue-white light that–”

“Damnable rifts!” the knight roared. “Each year they grow worse, and this forsaken mountain is a hotspot for them. It’s not enough that they spill demons into our world, now they deposit foreigners inside our borders!” He took a threatening step forward, and an obsidian warhammer appeared in his good arm.

“To which Kingdom are you pledged?” the knight asked in a voice heavy with danger.

“Uh, Vermont?” Ethan’s mind raced as he tried to figure out how much to tell the rather short-tempered knight. Thankfully he was saved by a fortunately timed roar, echoing up from the tunnel.

“The beast lives,” the knight said, looking down the tunnel warily. Abruptly he turned back to Ethan. “I am Valanor, First Shield to Prince Calevaro. You’re clearly a very unusual man, but I have trouble believing a spy would dress like…that. If the beast lives, I must pursue it, as the Prince will no doubt be on its trail. I need your word that you mean this Kingdom no harm.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. Maybe knight’s honor is a thing here. He got slowly to his feet, wanting to look the man in the eye–visor, whatever. “You have my word. I don’t mean anyone harm. I’m not here by choice.”

Valanor watched him for a long, tense moment, then nodded once. He burst into sudden action, pulling out small metal objects–presumably from his own inventory–and placing them in a rough circle around the unconscious knights. Ethan looked closer and saw they were amber gems in tiny stands, and they glowed with a soft inner light.

“What do those do?” he asked.

“Wards. Any monster powerful enough to ignore them would likely be too strong for us anyway. I’d prefer not to leave my knights, but our duty is clear. Do you have a weapon?”

“Oh, sure,” Ethan replied, before moving away and fishing his crowbar out from a pile of rocks.

“That’s your weapon? What happened to it?” he asked.

“Uh, it’s actually a very famous and versatile tool where I’m from. I don’t think it’ll do much against that giant tiger though.”

“Are you mad? You think you’re coming to fight Flagras? You’re Unbound. If you were an actual threat to anything I’d have already killed you here for the sake of the Hunt.”

Unbound? Ethan’s mind went back to what he’d read from the survival interface. It said I have zero of three bonds. How can this guy tell? “I can help. I helped you already.”

Valanor seemed to consider his words, “You have courage, I’ll grant you that, but–” Another roar interrupted his words, and he made an irritated sound. “Fine! Just move quickly. I can’t promise you my protection during the Hunt, but there may be more injured knights, and we’re a long way from the surface.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Ethan said, surprised at his own energy. He quickly scooped up the canteen and food sack, noticing symbols engraved on each. “I feel weirdly good, what’s in this stuff, amphetamines?”

“Magically infused. Don’t lose them,” Valanor said, then began moving down the tunnel. Ethan stared at the simple objects skeptically, then quickly stashed them in his inventory and hurried after the knight. His injuries were unchanged, but it felt like he’d gotten eight hours of sleep, and the renewed vigor cleared his head.

“Stay a step behind, and to my left,” Valanor said, indicating the warhammer in his right hand.

“No worries,” Ethan said, gripping his crowbar. It was tempting to pepper the knight with questions, but he had a strong impression that anything beyond the scope of the man’s duty would be met with irritation at best. Still, he needed some answers.

“So why are we after this creature?” he asked.

“It’s Flagras,” the man responded, with the tone of someone explaining the obvious to an idiot.

“Right. Of course,” knowing it was a mistake, his medical curiosity got the best of him. “Hey what happened to your arm?”

“I’m a Broken Dusk,” Valanor replied. There was something in his tone that made Ethan restrain his dozen follow-up questions. Okay, new topic.

“Can you tell me where I am? I’m not working on a lot of information here.”

“This is the Kingdom of Viridus. We’re in the Western mountains.” He glanced back and surprised Ethan with a question of his own. “If you came here by mistake, why did you bring a survival kit? I’ve never even heard of one that big.”

More treading lightly. “This is actually the second place I appeared against my will,” he answered honestly. “The first one was just…so much worse. I met a woman there who gave me the kit, then pushed me through another ‘rift’.” Valanor grunted in response, seeming unconvinced.

They moved in silence for a few minutes, until the tunnel’s monotony was finally interrupted. They entered a chamber the size of a banquet hall, rectangular in shape, and littered with broken, decayed furniture. The walls were even more brightly lit than the tunnel, with the glowing moss virtually everywhere. There were several doors leading into darkness on the opposite wall.

Looking up, Ethan was surprised to see the same, three-spiral symbol carved into one of the walls. Not only did it glow with the same soft light as the moss, it actually seemed to be the source of the strange growth, as countless trails of the stuff spread away from it.

Ethan had taken a few steps into the room, eyes on the symbol and enjoying the high ceilings, when he heard a familiar skittering sound. He looked down just in time to witness a confusing scene play out.

Something that looked like a beetle–but the size of a dog–was charging toward him. It was shades of gray and green, appropriate camouflage in the tunnels, and its foremost legs were pointed and reaching for out threateningly. Ethan raised the crowbar protectively, only to watch the large insect be utterly obliterated by something else.

The second creature was humanoid in shape, about the size of a child, but seemed to be made up entirely of black rock that shone like glass. Its proportions were unusual, and it was all sharp, right angles. Ethan took a step back, raising his crowbar with very little confidence.

“I told you I couldn’t protect you,” Valanor said, “You’re lucky that Toby enjoys squashing bugs.” The little stone man stomped a few more times on the beetle, then spontaneously shattered into dust, which flowed back into the knight’s hammer in an instant.

“That little guy was your…Familiar?” Ethan said, looking at the paste of the creature that had nearly attacked him. Then his gaze moved back to the knight. “Wait, you named him ‘Toby’?”

Valanor cleared his throat, “My younger brother did. It’s a fine name.”

“No objections here!” Ethan said hastily. “And thank him for me, the squashing was appreciated.” Ethan’s smile faded when he realized that the knight was staring at one of the far doorways. It took a few more moments for the familiar sounds of tiny legs tapping against stone to reach him–Valanor’s hearing was impressive.

Moving forward and giving his warhammer a few practice swings, the knight spoke, “They’re coming. Ready yourself.”