Ethan sat next to Valanor at the bar in the Hunter’s guild, an exceptionally bitter beer in front of him. The shield knight had already downed two full pints, and was working on his third. Ethan suspected the quantity might have more to do with the man’s Dusk rank constitution, however, as he almost seemed annoyed to have to keep ordering more.
After the thrill of the prince’s match, the pair had fallen back into silence as they walked through the town. It was nearly deserted, as everyone who could get away had clearly gone to the arena. Charlie wasn’t even behind the bar, and Ethan had gotten the impression the man was there from open to close seven days a week.
Finally Valanor broke the silence. “How many abilities have you unlocked?”
Ethan knew the answer immediately. “Eight in total. I’ve only completed two hunts specifically for abilities,” he replied.
“Only two? You’ve been out there almost every day.”
Ethan was a little surprised to hear that the man was keeping tabs on him while officially on leave, but he figured the knights must talk. “I Hunt, but mostly for training. I’ve gotten just enough of my abilities that I can mostly fight the way my class is supposed to, but there’s a lot to learn. Besides, it’s not easy to find the right monsters for my Affinities.”
Valanor grunted. “What’s next on your list? A real target, I mean, not fodder.”
“Thunder Drake,” Ethan replied.
Valanor seemed a bit surprised. “That’s a dangerous beast. Did you know it’s one of the Prince’s Familiars?”
“I had no idea. Obviously he’s got the lightning, though.”
Valanor nodded, looking off in thought. “Tough fight. I was with the prince on that Hunt. All his Hunts, actually. Until recently, of course,” the knight said in a melancholic tone. Ethan was gritting his teeth and preparing for another argument when the knight surprised him. “I was there for all of Prince Kent’s Hunts as well.”
Prince Kent. Ethan had never heard the name before, but immediately understood it had to be the man who’d held Revan’s Bond before him.
“The boy could fight,” the knight continued. “He wasn’t much like Cal though–less about precision, more about heart. He’d charge in, throw his life on the line every time. Didn’t give a damn that he was the prince, and we were just knights.”
Ethan remained quiet, fearing that anything he said might cause the man to lock up again. Valanor seemed lost in his own memories, however. “Kent dragged us all over the kingdom,” he continued, “he wanted to see the whole thing, meet every damn citizen in Veridus. Fought every monster, too. Not because he liked the fighting, but because it made the people safer.”
Valanor went back to his drink, and Ethan risked a question. “The princes, are you the one who trained them?”
The knight shrugged, a lopsided gesture. “I did, but I wasn’t the only one. The king is the strongest warrior in the realm, even if he never did manage to get past the Twilight wall. He taught them both how to swing a sword, though using abilities wisely was always where I shined.” He took another long sip, then spoke bitterly. “I taught them cycling.”
Ethan glanced at the man’s bound arm, then made himself look away quickly. Not quick enough, apparently, as the knight noticed and grunted at him. “No more jokes?” Valanor said with an unexpected smirk.
Ethan smirked back. “In my defense, the last time I went full-asshole on you, it had only been a day or two since you’d tried to kill me. Twice.” Ethan thought back to those first few days in this new world, his closest companion equally ready to save him and slaughter him.
“I crossed a line,” Ethan continued after a moment. “I said some shitty things, and I’m not proud of it. But you almost bashed my head in with a warhammer. Nobody’s perfect.”
Valanor snorted a derisive laugh. “One’s duty to his king isn’t something you’d understand. I won’t apologize for being a knight, and I don’t expect you to apologize for being a stranger in this land…who’s also a prick.”
Ethan laughed out loud at that, then took a long drink of the bitter ale. Some, just some of the tension between him and the shield knight seemed to have been relieved. If nothing else, it was good to have a chance to see Valanor as a person, even if the night ended here.
“Want to know how I lost my arm?” Valanor asked. Or maybe things will get crazier, Ethan thought.
“I won’t press, but it’s bar rules. Long as we’re drinking next to each other, I have to listen to whatever you say. It’s a time honored way of both gaining, and losing friends back where I come from.”
The knight didn’t seem to hear him, as he stared down at his own limp appendage. “A Chosen did it,” he said at last. “I raised my shield to protect my prince, as I had a thousand times before, but I was nothing to that one. The blade that struck me wasn’t even physical, it was pure Astral. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He paused to drink, and Ethan remained silent, suddenly desperate to know more. Valanor continued, though he may as well have been talking to himself. “My Familiar was just gone. Syph was my first Bond, she was how I fought, she was…” he paused, looking away from Ethan suddenly.
After a long moment, he spoke again, voice soft. “The Chosen didn’t care about me, though. They just walked past as I lay there screaming. Couldn’t even see the bastard’s face under the damned mask. They were only there for Prince Kent.” Again he paused, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t even see my prince die, I just laid there wailing on the ground like a child.”
Valanor sat up straighter, and his deep voice showed a hint of pride when he spoke again. “Prince Kentevaro proved who he really was that day, though. Spit in the other Chosen’s face with his last breath. He severed his own connection to Flagras, sent the Guardian home even as that filthy murderer took him apart. Put the kingdom first, even at his end.”
“He sounds like quite a man,” Ethan said, meaning it.
“He was the best of us, and died for it,” Valanor said bitterly. “There’s reasons why the Chosen doesn’t march from village to village shaking hands. There’s reasons why Prince Cal always wears that helmet. But Kent wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted to do good, and so we did.”
The knight looked Ethan in the eyes, making sure he was truly listening. “We thought it was armor. That goodness would protect us somehow. He pulled us all in with his stories and speeches about valor and righteousness. Good will win, he said. But good got him killed.”
Valanor turned back to his drink. “We were barely outside the kingdom for a month before the other Chosen found us, just barely having begun to explore Arinae. Prince Kent was recognized; his reputation from all that good we’d done had reached our neighbors.” The knight shook his head in disbelief. “We don’t even know what nation killed our prince, and the awful truth is that it’s hard to blame them. We’d have done the same if some fool had come to Viridus, a Chosen with a famous face.”
He pushed his drink away suddenly, standing up. “Thunder Drake, you say?” he asked, and Ethan barely managed to follow.
“Right, Thunder Drake,” he confirmed. “Hoping for a lightning ability, like Prince Calevaro.”
Valanor nodded, throwing some coins on the bar. “You can’t do it alone, you’ll get killed,” he said matter of factly, then started walking toward the door. Ethan followed, though he wasn’t sure he was supposed to until the knight spoke again on the dark street. “That’s a team-level monster. Deadly. You’ll need a utility specialist,” he said.
“Okay…what’s that?” Ethan asked, hurrying to keep up with the knight.
“Someone to manage the lightning, hopefully throw some enhancement powers on you.”
“That makes sense, but I’m not sure how valuable it’ll be, really. I’ve spoken to other Hunters about this beast. It’s fast as hell, and hits like a truck. I’m still trying to figure out how to survive after my first attack, and Glenn says he isn’t strong enough to stand in front of the thing, which doesn’t leave me a lot of options.”
“Fine, I’ll come,” Valanor said, as if Ethan had begged.
“What, really?”
“You need a Vanguard, I have the time. This is you following the plan, correct? Becoming what you need to be in order to keep the prince safe?”
“Uh, yeah, it is,” Ethan responded, though he hated his own actions framed in that way.
“I’m still the Prince’s shield, even if it’s just in my own way,” Valanor insisted, as they sped through the streets. “Helping you helps him.”
“That’s great,” Ethan replied, not sure how to react. Finally he looked around, not sure what part of the city they were in, all the streets looking the same at night. “Where the hell are we going?”
“West wall, there’s something worth seeing.” Valanor looked down at his pocket watch. “Should be visible by now, though I think it looks better during the day.” Ethan shrugged and followed the unusually energetic knight. They sped through the streets for a few more minutes, finally following a path through a park, the wall on the other side.
He could see one of several ponds nearby, and reminded himself to ask how they managed to keep water on the mobile city. Ethan put the question aside as they reached a set of stone stairs leading upward. He had to resist the urge to just walk up the side; he’d been climbing so many walls lately that stairs were becoming a novelty.
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Finally they reached the top of the wall, and he followed Valanor to the chest-high ledge, looking out across the rolling hills of Viridus. The starlit sky was beautiful, and the moon–which was strangely smooth compared to the one he knew– shone down brightly from behind the clouds, casting the landscape in soft light. It was a stunning sight, and almost worth the race across town on its own, but it was clearly not what the knight had wanted him to see.
Cresting the hills, still many miles off, was an enormous ship, lit by hundreds of torches. It looked to be made of dark, shining steel, but had numerous masts and dozens of sails. Ethan stared in utter confusion as the vessel heaved up and down as if at sea, despite his utter certainty that there was no body of water remotely big enough in that direction.
Valanor smiled ever so slightly as he alternately watched the ship, and Ethan’s reaction to it. Unable to look away, Ethan was about to ask what he was looking at when the clouds suddenly parted, and moonbeams lit up the vessel. It was riding on a wave of sand.
Impossibly, it was actually some considerable distance above the ground, crashing over a cloud of sand that seemed to be flowing out ahead like a small sea. The sand didn’t even touch the ground, it too was hovering in the air, always supporting its strange passenger at exactly the right moment, breaking and swelling like any ocean.
“What the hell am I looking at?” Ethan asked as the vessel made steady progress toward them.
Valanor’s smile widened. “You’re looking at Dunebreaker, the great treasure of the desert kingdom Arinae. The royals have arrived.”
***
Ethan was still reeling from the day as he made his way home. Seeing the prince, and feeling as if he finally understood the impossibility of the task he’d been given to emulate the man. Then the revelations of Valanor’s doomed service with the previous prince, and finishing the night with a display of magic and wonder he hadn’t experienced since his first glimpse of the city upon which he now lived.
He barely noticed the woman leaning against the door to the large residence in which Ethan rented a room. She was average height, with familiar silver hair and delicate elven features. She was also clearly nobility, the cut and color of her dress unmissable, despite the dark cloak she was wearing over top of it.
She stepped forward as he approached the building, looking up at him with bright green eyes. “Mr. Bishop,” she said, “I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time. You were told that you would be summoned.”
“Actually I was told I’d be ‘fetched’, and I wasn’t willing to waste more time waiting. Besides, it was a big day for the city, you can’t expect me to wait around my room with everything going on,” he replied.
“I very much can expect you to follow the commands you’ve been given, and I’ll be making quite sure that you do in the days to come. My name is Dalen Innevaro, and it is my duty to prepare you for what’s to come. But I’ll say no more out here, let’s speak inside.”
Ethan narrowed his eyes, but held back his objections, agreeing that the streets weren’t the place for them. He led the woman–Dalen–inside, and up to his room. As soon as they were in his room she removed a small Rune Stone, and activated it. “We won’t be heard as long as this is on.” She tossed him the stone. “Get used to using it, I’m certain it will be needed.”
Ethan caught the stone, idly playing with it as he examined his guest. “So, good spycraft suggests I let you tell me what you know first,” he said while leaning against his wall. A rift-anchored crane was flying around above the building just in case, but he suspected the woman was likely legitimate. Between the name and the appearance, he had a good sense of who he was dealing with.
“You have some sense, at least. Good, you’ll need that and more. I am of the House of Innevaro, the true line of the royal family, whatever you may have heard of the Rovaro pretenders.” Ethan had heard the names in passing over the last few weeks, but truthfully he’d been so obsessed with his own growth and survival that he’d been remiss in really learning about the society he’d been thrust into.
“You’ll find me a poor student of history, I’m afraid.”
“Your forthcoming education will remedy that. Princess Ellevaro–my cousin–was willing to allow you to spend some time running about, doing whatever it was you were doing, but that must end. House Harenaro will be arriving soon, and the true deception must begin. What they see here will spread across the world. The rise of a new Chosen is no small thing.”
“Harenaro? I take it they’re the ones in the fancy boat I just saw?”
“Indeed, they are the royal family of Arinae, and they are not alone. A Chosen is with them, to ensure a peaceful visit. We know not which, but their power will be certain. Regardless, we must now codify our arrangement, make your own role clear in the court.”
He looked at the noble, standing as far from every object in the room as possible, as if worried their simple quality might infect her. “I wasn’t aware that I was to have a role in the court. I thought that was exactly why I’m here in the city.”
“Hardly. Of course the princess has plans for you, she simply wouldn’t deign to share them,” the woman replied haughtily.
“Until now,” Ethan returned.
“Until necessary. Whether you’re aware of it or not, you’re already known in Corvale. You might not be worthy of much more than watching, but no one guests at the palace without a dozen families taking note. Right now, efforts have been made to ensure you’re thought of merely as an eccentric foreigner. The prince met you on the Great Hunt, and considered you an acceptable distraction.”
“High praise. So where am I from, then? Am I commoner or noble? And what exactly am I supposed to be doing here?” he asked.
Dalen seemed to take a calming breath, she obviously preferred leading the conversation. “You are from Tempestia. It is a trade-nation on the East coast, and they don’t share our class structure. It should excuse some of your inevitable missteps. As to what you’re doing here? You’re a Hunter. We neither can, nor should disguise that fact. You’re on a Bond Pilgrimage, and Viridus is where the journey took you.
“By context, that means I was wandering around looking for a Bond, and stumbled on one here?”
“Nearly correct. Bond Pilgrims are those who find a single Bond in one nation, then search for others in a different land. It’s allowed because the Pilgrim often stays where they gain their final Familiar.” Daelin waited for him to nod before continuing.
“So, you came to Viridus, nearly died, and the prince took pity on you. He decided to help you to gain your remaining Familiars. You are not friends, but you are a favored acquaintance. It must be reasonable to see you near him, but not so close as to invite unwelcome conclusions.”
“Makes sense, but I know just enough to have a vague sense of how little I actually know. What’s our timeline here, and what do I need to do?”
The prim woman looked even more flustered, but remained civil when she answered. “Our timeline is now, until tomorrow evening. You’ll be required to come to a feast and celebration welcoming the visiting royals, and the honored Chosen”
“Wait, are you serious? Why would I even go to this thing?” Ethan asked.
Dalen sighed. “Believe me, we all wish that you weren’t. Unfortunately the answer is Princess Olivia Havenaro. She’s the counterpart and occasional rival to our own Princess Ellevaro. Evidently her spies are…better informed than we believed.”
The noblewoman took a piece of paper from a small satchel at her waist, and began reading aloud. “‘Honored cousin, we cannot wait to see you and congratulate Prince Cal for becoming the next Chosen. Oh, and I’d love to meet his new foreign pet as well. Anyone who can turn that boy’s head away from duty must be a remarkable find indeed.’”
“I’m a foreign pet now,” Ethan said with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged. “I’ve been called worse, I suppose. So what the hell is the point of this? You called her the counterpart to Ellevaro, if that’s even remotely true then there’s no way she just wants to meet an interesting pet.”
“Of course not. Most likely she thinks you’re either a spy, or someone from another nation seeking alliance. In the former case, she may try to recruit you herself. In the latter, she’ll at least need to speak with you and determine if you’re a threat, and whether it’s an alliance she needs to disrupt.”
Ethan considered. “So in all likelihood I’m preparing for some verbal sparring with a manipulative royal from a country I know nothing about, who’s convinced that I’m some kind of key player in inter-kingdom politics.”
“Unfortunately, that’s correct,” Dalen answered. “Beyond that, Prince Thavin will be coming as well. Where Olivia uses guile, he uses a sword. He is, by all accounts, a blunt instrument, and a bitter one. He considers himself the natural rival of every crown-prince he meets, and it’s been worse with Prince Calevaro.”
“How so?” Ethan asked.
“Our prince is a man of singular focus, and has no time for the petty taunts and jabs of Thavin. They had a few encounters as boys, always ending with the Arinaen embarrassed and swearing revenge.”
Ethan considered. “So we have to avoid falling into the princess’s trap, and antagonizing the prince,” he summarized. I’m going to need books. Lots of books. Knowledge Stones if you have them; this is definitely an all-nighter kind of problem. Not just on my supposed homeland either, I need to know about the neighboring kingdoms as well.”
“Mr. Bishop, your ambitions here seem misplaced. The only thing we’re hoping to accomplish is that you’re sufficiently informed as to not immediately give away your false identity. Tomorrow you’re going to go to the feast, hide in the back, and we’ll all be praying to the Goddess that the Chosen and the visiting royals don’t recognize what you are.”
“Of course, Miss Innevaro, but I’m certainly going to be thorough with so much at stake. That’s in everyone’s best interest, is it not?”
The noblewoman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “It is, but I was led to believe you wouldn’t be quite so…accommodating.”
“I may not enjoy this arrangement, but I’m not looking to throw my life away. Would you be able to bring me the information I need?” Ethan asked.
She only paused for a moment. “Very well. As you say, it couldn’t hurt to be over prepared…and Princess Olivia is quite sharp. I’ll bring you what you’ve requested, then fill in the gaps myself.” She moved toward the door to leave.
“Oh Miss Innevaro, one quick question. Will there be dancing at this feast?”
She turned with a raised eyebrow. “There will, though it’s not a ball and you won’t be expected to participate. Why?”
“I just like to know what I’m walking into,” Ethan said easily. Again the woman narrowed her eyes, but obligingly left a moment later.
Tomo appeared once she’d left. “I heard many lies in this room, Ethan Bishop, but I do not understand their purpose. Are you not worried about this feast?”
“To some extent. I am undeniably in danger, but it also represents a unique opportunity.”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“The kind where we can finally gain some power and control of our own. Right now I’m only alive because I’m a background player who might be valuable someday. It’s time to change that,” Ethan said with a smile as he went to look out the window.
“I’ve been taking risks, Tomo, and the only thing between me and an execution is a vague possible role in the future. Tomorrow the king could simply have a bad day and kill me for giggles.”
“Your concerns are wise. So long as you are dealing only with the royals of this nation, you are under their power. These visitors represent a rare change in that dynamic,” Tomo said with a slow nod. “But there is one thing I don’t understand. Why did you ask about dancing?”
Ethan grinned. “Couldn’t help myself. Tomorrow we’re going to teach them the Kansas City Shuffle. Some very suspicious and arrogant people are going to come here thinking they know exactly what to expect. We’re going to show them how wrong they are.”