Everyone in the throne room seemed to take a collective intake of breath as the death sentence echoed out. Ethan expected Valanor to hesitate, but when he glanced to his side, the obsidian warhammer was already raised. Ethan took a quick step back with his hands raised, but it was a calm female voice that halted the blow.

“First Shield, a moment please?” The hammer froze, the knight turning to look at the King for confirmation. It was a long, tense moment, before a dismissive flick of a hand bought Ethan a few more minutes of life, and Valanor moved away.

“Speak, daughter,” King Rothavaro said at last, before sitting back in his throne, a hand pressed against his head with irritation.

“Whatever resolution we come to,” the princess said in a stately voice, “haste needn’t be a part of it. A decision with decades-long consequences shouldn’t be made in moments.” The King rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh, but Ethan got the impression the man was used to these kinds of moments with his daughter.

“Let us lay the situation out, as its complexities are many. If we execute this man, then Flagras is lost to us. This time the Guardian won’t simply be prowling the mountains, but caught in its cycle of rebirth. The shortest cycle on record was still more than a quarter-century.

Selina, the Runemistress seemed forgotten, but was raising her hand as if she were in school, still staring at Ethan. The king and princess didn’t seem to notice, but Calevaro clearly did, watching quietly. Ethan however, was focused on listening and absorbing, waiting for his moment.

“What else can we do?” the king asked. “This is no different from the Hunt failing. The Chosen should be a member of the Royal house, and must be of Viridus. Valanor says this man refused to even identify his kingdom! The power of Flagras cannot fall into the hands of another nation! Nixus and Arinae are practically at our borders!”

“Our neighbors are always looking for an excuse to attack,” the princess countered. “Cal becoming Chosen might give them pause, but unless he became another Champion, he would never be a true deterrent.”

“And Flagras is the surest path to gaining such a coveted title!” the king roared back, standing up once more.

“The Guardian is strong, father, and its powers are deadly, but this family knows only too well the limits of that power.” That statement made the king sit back down, and Ethan could tell that there was something going unsaid. Why is this time different? he wondered, considering her words.

Ethan was so close. He hoped that Selina would remain quiet for just a few moments more. The information she wanted to share could either derail the discussion, or possibly save him–but only if he could gain control of the situation. Thankfully Princess Ellevaro was an unexpected ally, and he wondered if their goals aligned.

At last King Rothavaro spoke again, “You speak with wisdom, as always, daughter. Your brother’s sacrifice bought us this time, and part of me does feel like I’m throwing it away. But I ask again,what else can be done?”

Brother’s sacrifice? What could Calevaro have sacrificed that–no. This situation is different, she said as much. Calevaro was on the Hunt, he would have Bonded Flagras, he wasn’t in a position to effect–Ethan looked up at the picture of his Familiar once again, and the crown it wore.

Flagras is some kind of royal Familiar, and a brother made a sacrifice to give them ‘time’. A brother, but not this brother? Selina was practically jumping up and down now, and the arguing royals were finally taking notice. That’s it, time’s up.

“I think the solution is simple,” Ethan said loudly, drawing every eye in the room. Valanor moved to silence him without hesitation, a stone blade pressing into Ethan’s throat.

“I wish to hear what he has to say,” Calevaro said quietly, the first words Ethan had ever heard from the man. His voice was deep, and he spoke with measured precision.

“We must hear from the thief, now?” the king grumbled, but after a glance at this stoic son, he made another dismissive gesture, and Valanor backed away, growling slightly.

“Thank you, Majesty,” Ethan began, “and please forgive any lack of decorum on my part, I’m very much a stranger in these lands.”

“Don’t test my patience, thief. If the answer is simple, then speak it, or lose your tongue.”

“Of course, and forgive me again, but there’s a single point on which I’m unclear, that I think may determine my fate. This Runemistress,” he gestured at Selina, who jumped, “why was she necessary in confirming my Bond?”

The king didn’t deign to respond, but made another small gesture at Valanor, who spoke. “Bond Runes are unique, and no one can be forced to reveal their Familiar under normal circumstances. It was the only way to confirm that you truly joined with Flagras–though under the circumstances it was more of a ceremonial gesture. I know what you did.”

Ethan ignored the knight’s anger, trying not to sag with relief at hearing his assumption validated. “Then I stand by my words,” he said, “the answer is simple. Just tell everyone that the prince’s hunt was a success.” Seeing the king’s outrage, Ethan hurriedly clarified, knowing his life was hanging by a hair.

“As Princess Ellevaro mentioned, Flagras alone isn’t a guaranteed path to a…’Champion’.” I would feel so much more confident if I knew for sure what that was. “It sounds as if the true test is of the warrior, not the Familiar. I’ve seen your son in action, Majesty, and he is remarkable. He fights with bravery, and skill. He protects his men, and no one could claim he’s lacking in power. He already is a true warrior.”

The king didn’t argue that, even looking at Calevaro with what may have been pride. It’s time to hammer this home. “So I say again, the solution is simple. In fact it comes down to the answer to one question: do you trust your son to become your Champion?”

The king leaned back, looking contemplative, and Calevaro gave him an expectant look, as if challenging him to disagree. The princess’s reaction was the most interesting, however, as Ethan caught her hiding a smirk. At last the king turned to his daughter.

“What do you think, can it be done? It’s true that there are few who would be capable of finding out the truth, and fewer still motivated to do so. And Cal,” when he looked at his son this time, the pride shone brightly, “Cal’s reputation is well-earned. None will doubt his victory over Flagras. That our Guardian would bond a stranger is actually the taller tale.”

“I think the plan has merit, father,” Ellevaro agreed. “We simply need to secure a suitable third Bond for him that grants the right powers, and no one will question.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Oh, thank goodness, Ethan thought, as the king nodded in agreement. “This is a gambit worthy of your grandfather,” he said with a barked laugh. “Very well, we’ll discuss further details later. I admit, I see no better way to protect our kingdom until Flagras returns to us, daughter. Now the execution can proceed.”

I need to stop celebrating early, Ethan thought, then smiled in resignation. Okay, I suspected this was coming from the moment I arrived in this world. Maybe I pictured making this decision differently. Possibly on top of a hill with the wind in my hair…but saving my life in a giant walking castle will have to do.

“Let me be the Chosen!” Ethan called out, then spoke rapidly into the stunned silence. “I’m from a long line of warriors. In many ways, my life has been building to this moment as much as Prince Calevaro’s. Allow me a chance to prove that I’m worthy of Flagras’ choice.” The king looked at Ethan in surprise, but didn’t silence him right away.

“You mentioned a gamble, your Majesty, why not gamble on a year? What’s one year compared to the decades you’d have to wait for Flagras’ return?” Ethan turned to Calevaro then. “As one man who lost a brother to another, give me the chance to make up for my mistake, and try to be worthy of the sacrifice yours made.”

Ethan looked in the prince’s eyes, knowing he was gambling blindly himself. He didn’t know enough about the sacrifice to be sure this was the right tack, but it was the strongest weapon he had at the moment. The King seemed furious, which was expected, but once again he turned and noticed his son’s reaction, raising a royal eyebrow. The prince looked to his father, and something was clearly communicated without words.

Then the king threw his hand in the air. “Enough of this!” he cried. “The discussion is moot. I’ll say again: I will not have Flagras’ power in the hands of another nation!”

Ethan hadn’t forgotten about that little detail, however. Time for the final gamble…wow. I won’t even buy a lottery ticket back home, but apparently I’ll bet my life all goddamn day. Here goes…

“Actually, your Majesty, if we hear out the Runemisstress, I think it will prove that I don’t have any divided loyalties.”

The King’s face went red with rage, clearly having been pushed farther than he had the tolerance for, but nevertheless he glanced at Selina. He seemed to finally realize that she’d been all but jumping up and down since the ritual, and groaned audibly. “Why not?” he said to the heavens. “There’s been more impropriety in my court in the last ten minutes than there has been in the last ten years. By all means, Runemisstress, enlighten us.”

Selina was bouncing from foot to foot, her nerves clearly battling her excitement to share her findings. “Majesty, he’s not from any nation.” This declaration made the King freeze, and the rest of the court seemed to lean in.

“Explain,” the King said.

“The ritual I cast, it can give a great deal of information about where someone has been. Everywhere has its own unique magics and energies, and the longer you spend in once place the more–”

“Explain more succinctly!” King Rothavaro said with cold fury, and Selina jumped.

“He’s not from Nexum! He’s from Terra–by way of Potentia,” she said rapidly.

“Impossible!” came a voice from the side of the room. This time it was the old woman in robes who’d broken decorum, and she immediately began apologizing to the king, who waved it all away.

“Terra? Not Terranovus?” the King asked.

“Uh, no, Majesty. The people of Terranovus have been here for generations, supposedly. The ritual wouldn’t mistake the two.” Wait, what was that? There’s a place in this world with other people from Earth? The revelation would have to wait, though.

“This man appears to have spent the vast majority of his life on the Third World. Only the scant trace of energy shows that he visited Potentia on his way here,” Selina finished.

The court was silent. Ethan noticed Valanor staring at him, his good hand seeming to ache for its warhammer. The princess seemed contemplative, while the prince’s expression hadn’t changed. The two in robes appeared to be…praying.

Finally the King broke the silence. “This claim is true, thief?”

Ethan nodded. “I was pulled into Potentia against my will only a few days ago. I spent some time fighting with scorpiursi…” he leaned down, revealing the still-healing pincer wound. “Then I was lucky enough to run into a woman in silver armor. She was riding an enormous snow bird and she rescued me, then sent me here. I appeared on the mountainside only a few hours before I met Valanor.”

A small clang echoed through the chamber, and all eyes fell on Valanor, who’d slapped his gauntlet into his helm, and was now shaking his head. “First Shield?” the King prompted.

“I am sorry, Majesty. He mentioned a woman in silver, but my mind was on the Hunt, and getting back to the prince. When I saw his survival kit I should have realized.” He sighed, “It was full of items that were at least Master rank.”

“Father,” Princess Ellevaro said, “if he was truly saved by Champion Allyara–”

“Then he’d be in the company of countless others! Just because she protected the thief then, doesn’t mean he has free reign to do as he pleases ever after.” The princess tried to speak again, but he cut her off. “It’s the rest that interests me,” he said, then stood up and strode forward.

Up close, it was clear that he was a fair bit taller than Ethan’s six feet. The king inspected him silently, looking in that moment very much like his quiet son. “What interest does Terra have in our world?” he asked softly.

“Broadly speaking, no one knows your world exists. At the very least it’s not common knowledge, and I’ve never seen anything to indicate otherwise. My world has its own problems, but they don’t include monsters or magic,” Ethan answered honestly.

King Rothavaro listened, but seemed surprisingly disinterested. His face transformed, however, when he spoke next. “Tell me of Potentia,” he commanded.

Another key moment. Ethan had considered playing this card earlier, but was convinced he’d be dismissed out of hand. Now however… “I have stories I could tell, of horrific monsters and close calls, but none worthy of a king’s attention. On the other hand, if you’re asking why the woman in silver saved me, that is a message I’m happy to deliver.”

“You did see something,” the king replied, not a question.

Ethan nodded slowly. “I saw this land, this beautiful, remarkable land, through a rift half the size of this palace. There was an army amassed in front of it. I was too far to give numbers or details, but they appeared to be waiting.”

This triggered muttering around the room, but King Rothavaro remained silent, searching Ethan’s eyes. Ethan met the gaze steadily. After finding whatever it was he was looking for, the king finally gave the smallest of nods, then turned and began walking back to his throne.

“You’ve done this nation a service,” he called out. “But you’ve also stolen my son’s future. One does not excuse the other,” he said with finality.

The princess moved close to her father then, and began speaking softly into his ear. At first his stern expression didn’t slip, but slowly his face relaxed, leaving him with a contemplative look. After a few minutes of Ethan painfully waiting, she stepped back.

“I have been given reason to entertain mercy in this matter,” King Rothavaro began, and Ethan felt a frightening surge of hope, “however, it is not only against me that you have transgressed.” He turned to the prince. “I know your ways, my son, you would let all others have their say before you do, that you may consider the right path and speak with finality. Now is that moment, Calevaro.”

Ethan’s eyes shifted to the silver-haired prince. He’d spoken highly of the man, and truly had seen him fight to protect his soldiers, but truthfully Ethan didn’t know the prince’s feelings. He expected there were few who did.

The prince nodded to his father, then mirrored his actions, coming to stand before Ethan and appraising him in some mysterious way. Finally he turned, moved to his father, and whispered in his ear as the princess had done. The exchange was brief, and the prince simply left through the doors behind the thrones without a glance back.

The room seemed tense after the departure, and the king was apparently in no mood to relieve it. He leaned back on the throne, resting his head on a hand as he stared off into space. Ethan’s body began to ache, and he realized he’d been standing with every muscle locked for some time.

At last the king spoke, without even looking at Ethan. “You have your year,” he said simply. “Valanor, escort him to guest quarters, post a guard, then return to me. We have much to discuss.”

Ethan didn’t know how to react, just smiling in disbelief as Valanor pulled him from the room. The king’s voice echoed after him. “One year, thief. Make it count.”