Ethan Bishop opened his eyes to an incredible vista. Gone was the oppressively hot, cramped, and dark series of tunnels, and in its place were endless, rolling hills of green. The sun shone down on him, and it felt like it had been weeks since he felt its warmth against his skin. A blue, cloudless sky had replaced the chamber he remembered, and for a single, beautiful moment, he could almost believe it had all been a dream.
Finally his head rolled forward, and he was greeted by new sights, and new complications. He was in an uncovered wooden wagon, being pulled by something that might have been mistaken for a horse, save for the unusual coloring and too-broad shoulders. The wagon driver was facing away, dressed in plain leathers, but Ethan wasn’t alone in the back. Looking from his bound hands, to the blonde man in front of him, an odd sense of familiarity tugged at his mind.
“Hey you, you’re finally awake,” the man said, and Ethan’s eyes widened.
“Oh my god, this is really happening isn’t it?” He rapidly checked the seats to his right, hoping to find a gagged man and thief, instead finding two stern looking guards.
“Uh, what?” the blonde man said. “What’s happening?”
“No! Don’t let me ruin it, just say what you were going to say!” Ethan insisted.
“I…I wasn’t going to say anything, what’s going on?”
“Man, don’t waste this! Come on, have you ever taken an arrow in the knee or something? Throw me a bone!”
“Do you understand what he’s talking about?” the man asked the other two guards, who both shook their helmeted heads.
“It’s too late,” Ethan complained, “the moment’s ruined.” As the novelty faded and his mind cleared, Ethan began to properly assess his situation. He looked down, examining the heavy manacles that bound his wrists. This time he noticed that his tattoos were also changed. Each one had a circle drawn around it in some kind of red ink, and none gave off the telltale glow he’d grown used to.
Unsure what was going on, he tried to force his tired mind to recall the endless, brutal day he’d experienced. It had seemingly begun in hell, and ended in an emotional turmoil he hadn’t experienced since–no, don’t need to revisit that right now. He remembered Valanor asking him to stay put, and the importance of the Prince binding the–
Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit…
He looked down again, this time shifting a bit so his filthy climbing shirt opened slightly. There was a second Bond tattoo. Memories came flooding back. He remembered telling himself he was doing one thing, but knowing he was doing another. What was that feeling? Just being close to that creature–his Familiar?–had shaken him to his soul.
Ethan came back to the moment when a canteen landed in his lap. “Drink,” a familiar voice said, then a sack of food landed in the wagon. “And eat. Your life isn’t your own anymore.” Valanor had ridden up on another one of the almost-horses. Seeing it from the front showed that it may have been closer to some kind of oxen. Looking around, there appeared to be about fifty knights riding down the dirt road in columns. Ethan obligingly took a long drink, realizing his thirst the moment the water touched his lips.
Finally he looked at the large, dark-armored figure, staring down at him. “What do you mean my life isn’t my own? What’s going on, Valanor?”
“You know your crime, it’s branded on your chest,” he replied, his tone acid. “How you managed to acquire two Bonds since we met is a whole other story. Are you hiding any other deadly secrets?”
Ethan considered his true home, his brief trip into Potentia, and his healing ability, and wisely changed the subject. “I didn’t mean to Bond with Flagras, it just sort of happened. I don’t really understand any of this stuff, I wasn’t trying to steal–”
“Save your words, the King will decide your fate. Only he has the wisdom to find a suitable punishment for dooming a nation. For now, you’ll find your runes disabled, but we’ll keep you alive.” The knight gestured again at the food. “Eat. You’ve been unconscious for two days, and it’s another two to the capital. Your life is already ticking away fast enough.”
“Whoa, wait, what does that mean?” he asked, but the shield-knight was already riding away. He spun back to the guards, “What the hell did he mean?”
“Highness,” the three said as one, and Ethan was confused for only a moment before once again spinning around. This time it was the swordsman–Prince Calevaro–who had ridden up. Seen up close, it was clear that his armor was more than just a different color, being a deep purple to the other knights’ blue. It was also covered in various symbols–Runes apparently–and clearly of higher quality.
The prince surprised him by reaching up and removing his sleek helmet, one of the only knights to have done so. His appearance was a shock for several reasons, and Ethan stared openly. His gaze was immediately drawn to the man’s ears, which came to distinct points. Is he an elf? Ethan thought in wonder, followed quickly by: is it racist to ask? That feels racist.
Calevaro’s possibly elven ears were pierced with about a dozen small rings of different colors. Each of which seemed to be chosen to set off his short, and surprisingly silver hair. It stood up in spikes, despite being encased by a helmet moments earlier. The final surprise was his East-Asian features. Is he an Asian elf? Okay, that one definitely felt racist.
Staring into the man’s pale green eyes, Ethan couldn’t help but feel a bit inadequate when compared to the prince’s obviously striking appearance. His own dirty blonde hair was filthy after his time in the tunnels, and with all the new scars he’d need a mirror to see if he even still qualified as ‘not a terrifying eyesore’.
After a long, evaluating look, the prince finally moved, reaching forward to push aside the scraps of shirt covering the Bond Runes. He tilted his head curiously, then released the fabric. A moment later his helmet was back on, and he was riding away. Ethan could only watch him go in confusion.
“Well that was chilling,” Ethan remarked, turning back to the guards. They were all wearing their helmets though, and refused to acknowledge him. “Perfect,” he muttered, then began eating the food Valanor had tossed. It was filling, but strangely he still felt empty, somehow.
Dismissing it as something to do with the rune on the container, Ethan put the concern aside. There was a lot going wrong, but that was par for the course lately, and it didn’t entirely erase the relief that came with simply sitting on a bench out in the sun. It may have been a bench on a wagon taking him to an execution, but compared to some recent moments, that was a step up.
***
The first day of their journey was uneventful, which suited Ethan just fine. He watched the hills roll by, saw herds of unknown creatures charge across the open fields, and got to see the enormous forests up close. At night, he slept under the wagon, basking in the uninterrupted rest.
Still, he felt strangely off, almost ill, and found himself longing for [Apollo’s Gaze] to diagnose himself. When they approached a village around midday, Ethan appreciated the distraction. He turned, leaning away from his silent guards to take in the sight.
It was a farming settlement, though he quickly saw that meant something very different from back home. There were numerous fields, but far fewer workers than Ethan would have expected. Instead, there were Familiars. Each field had a single person–uniformly tanned men and women–who would stand alongside a monster, and make things grow.
The Familiars ranged in size, but appeared to be of the same type. They looked something like trees, with barklike flesh, and walked on all fours. They were covered in flowers and sprouts that appeared unique to each one, and glowed with a soft green as their counterparts guided what could only be magic.
The people Bonded to them appeared to be enhancing the plant life somehow. As the convoy of knights moved into the village, Ethan saw the fields in every state. Some were just rich soil, showing no visible sign of what was being done to it. Others were covered in seedlings he could see grow before his eyes. Even those already blooming with vegetables–some familiar, some not–were enhanced, reaching sizes unheard of on Earth.
When they finally got into the village proper, the sights continued to impress. While the buildings themselves weren’t far off from those he’d seen in historical movies, being uniformly wood, and a mix of thatch and tiled roofs, their construction was something else. Ethan saw a man building what looked like a house with only a single worker, a four-armed, humanoid-looking monster, with yellow skin and thin appendages.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
He saw another creature assisting with cooking, while a blacksmith forge was kept alight by what looked like a smaller version of the lizard Ethan had killed with his crowbar. The Familiars had seemingly been integrated into almost every aspect of life, though they weren’t exactly common. There seemed to be one for every twenty or thirty people at most, however they always made their presence known.
Ethan enjoyed his trip through the village, which only slowed long enough for several people to run up and give gifts of food to the knights. The villagers were likewise what he expected, contented people in plain clothing of earthen tones, though he saw more than a few sets of pointed ears as they passed by. Curious, he kept a closer eye, and soon realized that almost all of the people with Familiars were elves–or whatever they were called here.
Ethan saw two more oddities before they left the village, each of which left him with more questions. First was what he was almost certain was a church of some kind, which disturbingly was marked by the same three-spiral symbol that made up his Mad System Rune. Ethan was nervous to be sporting an unknown religious marking, but soon noticed that many people had the same. If not in tattoo form, then on necklaces or bracelets.
The final surprise came just as they were leaving. An inn, or possibly a tavern suddenly had its doors thrown open by two remarkably large men, with red skin. They each had to be at least seven feet in height, and while one was bulkier by far, they both had corded, muscular physiques. And horns. They had horns.
Ethan thought it was probably rude to stare, but the pair looked so much like demons that he couldn’t help it. Part of him couldn’t handle the fact that they just strolled away like a normal part of society–which they obviously were. He shook his head in disbelief as the village disappeared behind him.
The group was barely an hour out of the village when screams halted the convoy. The knights and wagons came to a stop, and scouts were sent forward. The area they were in possessed the same idyllic, verdant feel that permeated this land. They’d left behind the farms and fields, and were just cresting a hill covered in sparse trees when the disturbance came.
The prince, Valanor, and someone who appeared to be an officer waited at the front of the column for the scouts to return. After only a short delay, two mounted Knights returned. Ethan couldn’t hear what was said from the center of the group, but after a moment the whole convoy continued forward at an increased pace, while a dozen knights charged ahead.
It didn’t take long to catch up, as the wagon rolled down the hill, then around a bend. The cause of the commotion was immediately apparent, as an open field of grass came into view. He immediately spotted the body of someone who might have been a villager, and several more simply dressed people hiding behind the small wall of knights.
Unmissable in the center of the clearing was a familiar oval of blue-white energy. “A rift..” Ethan whispered, having somehow convinced himself that he’d left them behind. Strangely, the field appeared otherwise empty, the warm breeze rustling the waist-high grass peacefully. And yet there was the body, and the screaming.
“Simithera,” one of his near-silent guards said angrily. Ethan was going to ask the man to elaborate when the unknown officer began barking orders.
“Knights, there are Simis out there! Squad four, left flank! Squad five, right flank! Two and three, center!” The group began moving all at once, those who were called dismounting and taking their assigned positions. The animals were all brought close to the wagons, then surrounded by the remaining knights, who were mostly those in heavier armor, and carrying shields.
Valanor and the Prince remained mounted with the officer, speaking quietly. Another barked order sent the knights forward, slowly wading into the grass, weapons at the ready. Ethan noticed that nearly all of the assembled warriors were using melee weapons, though each group of twelve had three knights following behind that either had bows, or empty hands.
When it began, it was like the flip of a switch. One moment the warriors were methodically advancing, and then several just disappeared beneath the grass. Everyone burst into action then, as some knights screamed, and others called out orders. From the wagon, Ethan could see the occasional disturbances as things moved through the grass, then another knight would disappear.
It was far from one-sided, however, as several of those taken had popped back up, covered in blood and charging back toward their comrades. Other groups were stabbing ruthlessly into nearby grass, presumably fighting something Ethan couldn’t see. As the minutes passed, the knights made slow progress toward the rift, and finally the enemy showed themselves.
Bursting upward from the grass they came, pouncing with feline grace, then flailing with disturbingly human-like arms. Stealth was apparently abandoned as the field exploded with activity, dozens of the strange ape-panthers having managed to conceal themselves until that moment. Ethan got a clear look at one who landed atop a knight in the middle group.
It looked to be about half the size of a man, its fur a deep green with shades of brown. The mouth and body were pure feline, the jaws snapping at the knight who struggled to protect his face. Its back legs were also cat-like, no doubt what had propelled it at the man with such force. However, it also possessed two sets of ape-like arms at the front, which were clearly powerful as they forced the knight’s own hands away.
The surprise attack had managed to break the knight’s ordered line, and the battle had devolved into brawls. The real danger appeared to be when the creatures knocked the knights down into the grass, for they seldom rose again unless their comrades acted immediately. After the fighting went on for a few minutes, it was clear that while the flanks were doing well, the main unit in the center was buckling.
Looking to the officers, Ethan expected more warriors to be sent forward, possibly Valanor at their head, but he was surprised when it was the prince who dismounted. Calevaro unsheathed his twin straight swords, and seemed to be among the enemy in an instant.
He didn’t appear to be going for kills. Rather, anywhere his knights were struggling, he would suddenly be there. His blades flashed out in harmony, disabling, deflecting, and injuring the monsters. Everywhere he slowed to attack, knights would regain their feet, and the line would reform. He managed to control the battle as a single participant, with only the occasional, and precise use of some flashy ability.
Glancing to Valanor, Ethan could see that the shield-knight was struggling to hold himself back, clearly not appreciating his prince being in the frey, but surely he couldn’t doubt the result. In a matter of minutes, the knights were moving forward again, though a dozen were retreating with severe injuries.
The grass still shifted from the unseen presence of the simitheras, but most were swiftly cut down. At last the group reached the rift, and a half dozen warriors ran forward, pulling out unknown objects and surrounding the glowing oval. Ethan could just make out Potentia’s red skies through the blurry doorway, and he shuddered in remembrance.
He couldn’t tell what the knights were doing, but it wasn’t long before the portal began to flicker, and shrink. Blue-white light would occasionally crackle off into the atmosphere, where it seemed to dissipate harmlessly. A cool feeling drew Ethan’s eyes downward, and he raised an eyebrow at his first Bond Rune.
Every time a small burst of energy escaped the rift, the rune glowed slightly. He even thought he saw the lines symbols and swirls grow and shift, as if they were waking up. “So that’s what you eat?” he asked the unseen creature, presumably still sleeping in its egg. “At least you don’t need to devour this dimension,” he said chuckling, then looked up to see his three guards watching him, then exchanging glances.
“No worries, guys, just making conversation with my chest,” he assured them. Turning back to the site of the battle, he saw that the rift was gone, and the knights were returning to the convoy. As quickly as it started, it looked like the excitement was over. Soon they were on the road again as if nothing unusual had happened, and Ethan realized by their relaxed postures, this was usual.
***
The rest of the day was comparatively uneventful, though Ethan still enjoyed the passing scenery, and tried to keep track of the creatures he spotted. He thought he was getting better at understanding what separated those native to Nexum–the beautiful paradise–and Potentia, the little piece of hell.
Valanor had remarked that the lizard they’d fought in the mountain wasn’t a demon, but Ethan would have wagered that the ape-panthers–which had almost certainly come through the rift–were. Considering what he’d seen when he’d been on the other side, Ethan thought he had a good sense of the distinction.
The demons–anything from potentia–looked like a mad scientist had squished together several normal creatures, creating horrifying nightmare chimeras. By contrast, the beasts here looked more like unique animals, even if they were often larger, and more deadly than on Earth. With magic, he amended.
After a night where he bristled at being unable to treat the many injured knights, and another half-day on the road, Ethan had grown bored. Countless attempts at engaging his guards in conversation had slowly–and organically–devolved into Ethan rambling on about things from back home that seemed important for the knights to understand.
“So there were three endings, which sounds cool right? A good ending, a bad ending, and I guess a neutral one? You know, for people with the passion and ability to save the universe, but who are still kinda bored of the whole experience? So that sounds like it could be interesting. But then it’s all just the same ending, but with different colored explosions! Years of our lives, building up to that moment. Wasted.”
The guards just continued watching him, possibly curious, more likely suspicious. Ethan bet on curious, “I know, I know, it was a long time ago and I should get over it, but I missed a lot of games while I was in school, and only just got back to them recently. Besides, the point stands! If you think about–” he cut off, his eyes widening.
The many miles of idyllic scenery had begun to blend together, like driving through the country for too long. Ethan had stopped registering the world around him, but that came to an abrupt end as they crested a hill, and an immense valley opened up before them.
While everything thus far had been uniformly green, the expansive area before them was dusty and brown, and suspiciously flat. The cause was immediately apparent, as he spotted what could only be the capital they were traveling to. A massive, white-stone castle was built into a hill, with a fair-sized city sprawling outward beneath it, all wrapped in a tall, looming wall.
Beyond the walls, the ground gave way to sheer cliffs, which after a steep drop, gave way to legs. Impossible, mind-altering, enormous legs. It was like the kingdom was the shell of an immense crab, roaming the valley.
“Welcome to Corvale, prisoner,” came Valanor’s voice from behind him. “Heart of the Kingdom.”