“How dare they!?” Katya walked back and forth, pacing the floor with more anger than I’ve ever seen. Usually as adorable as a puppy, the tiny girl before me suddenly had all the ferocity of pacing tigress. For a moment, I worry about the cell around us. I’d seen what she could do on a relaxed occasion. Now, with my armor boosting her power, in a rage?

For a moment I looked at the metal bars, marking the weak spots left in construction of them. Yes, if she wished it, escape would be easy.

We’d been taken to the nearest guard station to Allgowlden City, and placed in a cell about an hour ago. The men we’d beaten had been taken into an infirmary, and moved to cells of their own as they were healed. But our cell was in a different section of the building, so I only knew that from seeing each of the men getting escorted through the hallway in front of the cell.

The cell itself was rather sparse in terms of amenities, though that was normal for cells I supposed. Two beds, and a smelly bucket to shit in, with no privacy or real space. Katya was pacing as best she could however, despite the small area. I closed my eyes again, going into a meditative state. I slowed my breathing, simply feeling the molten core of my magic pulse. After a moment, Katya seemed unable to contain herself.

“Char!” I looked at her, blinking. She was still angry, huffing. “Why is this happening!? You didn’t do anything! Why did those men attack you? Why did the guard want to arrest you?”

Oy. She really was upset.

“You… know I’m a half-orc, right?”

She frowned angrily. “That’s stupid then! The Word says to love all the children of the world! ‘Be they of forest, stone, or plain, love all the children, for they are those who can be forgiven once repentant.’”

“Technically, orcs originate from deserts,” I replied wryly. “Not too many forests there. Lots of stone though, and maybe a couple of plains, so—”

“That’s not funny!” She said with a glare. When I shrugged, she just seemed more confused. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you angry? They’re trampling over your rights! They’re…They’re racists!”

I stared at her. Then, I nodded. “I am extremely offended. Confused as well, to how around twenty men knew where I was, or how those guards assembled so quickly. But as angry as I am, staying calm is the best decision.”

“Why?”

“Because I am half-human too,” I said softly. “All the things they say about me? None of it makes sense with what I know about myself. I show traits that races across Turab have. I'm a good blacksmith, a magic user, and I'm physically strong. None of these are truly 'orcish' or 'human' traits. No matter what they claim, neither half of my blood has any true hold over me. I cannot control how they respond to me. In fact, I would not want such a power if offered,” I smiled. “But I can control myself. I will never let them push the image of a mindless monster onto me if I can help it.”

In the end, a lot of my life was based around that. My studies in magic, my attempts to be polite in the face of rudeness, even my tools.

“I will defend myself against violence. But I am not the brainless, violent monster they paint me as. If I must die proving that I am who I choose to be, then I will. I know I am. And sometimes, in the toughest moments like these, that is enough.”

It was quiet. Then Katya nodded. She sat down on the bed next to me. Then she leaned over to rest her head against my shoulder. I was surprised for a moment, but that left when she spoke.

“I worry about you. This is the second time someone has tried to kill you. What if no one can stop the next time?”

I chuckled. “You’re worried? What about me? My best friend is going to go fight giant monsters and save the world. What if you get hurt because of that?”

She giggled. “I’m the Prophesied Child dummy. I can’t die, remember? I’m fated to win…It’s easy to be brave when you know you’ll win.”

Something about the way she said it… her voice, the inflection of her tone. I almost asked what was wrong, when she giggled again.

“I can’t believe we got arrested in the back alley of a brothel.”

My eyes bulged. “Wait… you knew?”

She giggled again at my reaction. “Of course I did! Jennifer told me what she did the first time we met! I just wanted to see if Richard would let me go. Light, the look on his face!”

I thought of the look on Richard’s face when he realized he’d have to escort Katya to the most (in)famous brothel in the city. For some reason I laughed. That set Katya to giggling, which made me laugh harder.

After a moment of this, we simply sat there, her small body leaning against mine.

“So you really don’t have a problem with Jennifer’s job? I thought the Light had some pretty heavy things to say about whoring.”

“…No. I mean, it’s not right to sell your body. But I know some people feel like they have no choice, or they get forced into it. Jennifer said she makes sure they can stop when they want to, and she keeps them safe. I won’t hate someone for doing what they can to survive. The Word tells never to judge others for their lifestyles, only to provide an example and a better path. Well, except for those who hurt the innocent and those who have done them no wrong.”

“Good policy,” I noted.

We didn’t talk after that. Just sat together, letting the minutes pass. I was half-asleep when something finally happened. After a while of waiting, the far door opened. When someone stepped inside, we looked at him. I’d expected the officer who arrested us, or maybe his superior. But what we got was worse.

Katya’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

I understood the feeling. We both rose to look at our visitor.

He wore flowing white robes. His head was balding. His green eyes seemed to gleam in the low light. His face was craggy and wrinkled, but full of an ancient strength. And he wore a white version of Katya’s white scarf.

The Leader of the Chapel of Valor, the Arch-Bishop, the Child of Prophecies teacher, glowered at us.

“Explain.” He said, his voice as cold as ice.

------

If the Prophesied Child is the prophet of the Light, then the Arch-Bishop is the one who decides what that means. Standing before us was the spiritual and political leader of Humans, Dwarves, and more than a few Elves.

And he was glaring at us, his eyes especially hard on me. I looked between Katya and the Arch-Bishop, the short girl in the shining silver armor and black carbon sheets I’d given her, the Arch-Bishop in his white robes. Standing across from each other, they looked like polar opposites in every way.

Somehow I got the feeling that where Katya had gotten her kind nature from, it wasn’t this man.

“Well?” His voice was soft, dangerous. “How is it that, on the day I come to watch as my Prophesied Child begin her first steps on the road to saving us all, I hear that she has been arrested?” asked the Arch-Bishop. He looked over at me, green eyes hard, then ignored me.

“Those men tried to kill Char!” Katya protested. “I didn’t hurt them badly, I just had to stop them!”

“Hmf,” scoffed the Arch-Bishop. A pair of guards and the officer who’d arrested us stepped in through the same door he’d entered. He nodded at them, and one of the guards stepped forward with some keys. “Well, Chris here,” he nodded at the officer, “has agreed that his arrest was rather hasty. Now come. If you are to be ready for the den then we will have to leave immediately.”

The guard gave the officer a hesitant look. The officer nodded at the guard. “Do it, Jeremy,” the guard nodded and moved to unlock the cell door.

“Come along,” the Arch-Bishop turned to walk away. Katya followed nervously. As she stepped out, the guard hurriedly closed the cell behind her.

“Wait,” Katya spun around, eyes wide at the sight of me getting locked back into the cell. “What about Char!?”

“Katya!” the Arch-Bishop spun around to look at her, his ancient eyes glowing. “Come along or you will be punished!”

“No!” the explosion of Light that came from her sent even me, with my massive weight, back a step. The guards and officer were sent flying. Only the Arch-Bishop was unscathed, though I could tell from the way his jaw-dropped that he was shocked. “Let him out!”

“Y-You dare—” the Arch-Bishop stuttered.

“He is my friend,” Katya glared at him. Motes of Light magic floated around her. “I will not leave him.”

“…you have to,” everyone spun to look at me. I met eyes with Katya. “You need to go to the den of monsters. There’s a prophecy that needs to be fulfilled.”

“I can’t leave you!” Katya protested.

“You aren’t. I made sure of that,” I nodded at her armor. “As long as you have that, I’ll know I’m keeping you safe,” I smirked when she seemed ready to argue. “Go. Come back for me once you’ve won. I can handle a day or two in prison. But you need to get there as fast as possible, and arguing about my release will take too long. Go. Be a hero.”

“…I’ll be back, Char,” Katya turned, walking away. She stopped in front of the Arch-Bishop. She glared up at the taller man for moment. He stared back at her.

Then, with a shudder, the leader of thousands stepped aside. Katya marched out of the room.

The Arch-Bishop stared after her as she left. Then he turned towards me.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to corrupt my Prophesied Child, orc,” the last word was said with more hatred than I had ever heard in my life, which was saying something, “but it ends today. There will be no misguided attempts to save a pathetic monster. I will have you executed for this!”

“For self-defense?” I said stoically. “The magistrate isn’t well known for executing men for such things.”

The Arch-Bishop scoffed. “You think the magistrate will have a choice? The Prophesied Child is coming into her full potential. Even with your corruption, she is still an influential person. The magistrate will gladly kill you if it is her order.”

“Katya wouldn’t do that.”

He smirked. “Oh, I think you’ll find that a word or two on her behalf will do the job. A simple message about how a certain orc corrupted her, and how she has now seen the Light? And you’ll be facing the axe soon enough. And she might be angry for a day or two. But once I’ve made it clear where her interests must lie, smacked some sense into that thick head of hers? I will have my Prophesied Child back.”

He turned to walk away, seemingly satisfied.

“You aren’t a very smart man, are you?”

He froze. I could see him clench a fist. “What did you say?”

“Kill me if you like. But I think whatever you wish for Katya has long since been destroyed. See, I didn’t corrupt her. I didn’t do anything. She’s a sweet, tough, and smart person. All of that is because of her. I didn’t do a thing. And you preparing to ‘smack some sense’ into her?” I smirked. “Even if she doesn’t kick your ass, more than a few people would be willing to do it for her.”

He spun around, his hand raising. A green glow came from his hand, and he snarled as he prepared to kill me. I glared at him, not moving an inch. The guards, who had risen to their feet by now, stared at the ancient Arch-Bishop, now aiming a spell at me.

“…Entropy magic?” I quirked an eyebrow as I watched the green lights flickering about his fingers. “Interesting choice for a priest.”

“…When you die, I will make sure none will even remember you exist,” with that final word, he waved his hand, dismissing the odd magic he’d summoned. Then he turned and left. The officer gaped, then moved to follow with one of the guards, leaving the one who’d opened the door.

“Well,” the guard said with a swallow. “That was pretty intense.”

I nodded slowly, unwilling to admit how close I had probably come to death. The Arch-Bishop had seemed… wrong. The way he’d spoken had been manic. His eyes wide, almost glowing, the fast speech. And then of course, there was the magic he’d used.

Something was very wrong with the Arch-Bishop. Something more than hatred for a half-orc.

Not that it mattered. Apparently he’d be trying his best to kill me soon. I had hope that Katya and Richard might be able to stop that, but it was a large worry. For now, I’d wait. The cell was uncomfortable, and I was hungry, but waiting here was my best choice.

I sat down on the bed. The guard took a seat on an old chair in the corner. And then, I waited.

------

It had been an hour since Katya left. In the distance, I could hear loud cheers. Katya was off to kill her monsters. A bell rang loudly a few blocks from the station, filling the air with it’s merry chimes. I closed my eyes and began to pray. Or try at least. I prayed for Katya to do her best. For my family, Arthur, Hasha, Mountain, Jennifer, and even Richard, to be safe in my absence.

As I prayed, I could feel the guard watching me. When I opened my eyes, he spoke.

“Char, right?”

I blinked, looking up at the guard, but focusing on the ceiling at last minute. “Yes.”

“No last name?” he asked curiously.

“…Com. Char Com.”

“Weird name,” he said with a small smile.

“I didn’t exactly pick it.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m Jeremy. J to my friends.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “You this friendly with all your prisoners Jeremy?”

He chuckled. “No. Actually you’re the first prisoner since I got this job. And please, call me J.”

I chuckled as well.

“Have to say,” he said after a bit of silence. “It’s odd, meeting you.”

“Never met a half-orc before?”

“Well… no, I guess I haven’t,” he shrugged. “But that’s not why this is odd.”

He didn’t say anything else. After a moment I decided to ask.

“Why is this odd?”

“Well, I honestly had no plans to meet you. It’s bad business, meeting the man you’ve hired assassins to kill.”

I tried to look at Jeremy for a moment, but ended up staring at the ground. I didn’t understand what he meant first. Then it struck me like bull at full speed.

“You hired Andrea?”

“Well, yes. But she was the second attempt, after the other one failed. Though I admit, I was surprised when I heard she was killed. I didn’t think you were the type. In fact, I still don’t. Was it a spur-of-the-moment type thing?”

For a moment, blue eyes shone in a dark workshop as a gauntlet unleashed hell.

I flinched. He nodded out of the corner of my eyes. “I understand. First kills are… well, they’re always tough to get past. Some people, they learn to enjoy killing. Others never do it again. And some accept it as a necessary evil. I think that, like me, you’ll see it as the last.”

“Is that what I am?” I still couldn’t look at him. “A necessary evil?”

He laughed, a sick, sad sound. “Believe it or not, yes. You see, the day you were hired to make Katya’s armor, I looked into you. There wasn’t much. Half-orcs tend to be ignored if they aren’t outright killed in this city. But I found somethings. Not many people bought things made by you, but those who did were willing to admit you do good work. All of which said you were a pretty solid blacksmith. Nothing that spoke of your real potential of course. But enough to make you a danger.”

“Katya,” I said under my breath. “You didn’t want me making armor for her.”

“Yep,” Jeremy, out of the corner of my eye, leaned back in his chair. “I managed to slip a bit of money to her first armorers convince them to make her ceremonial armor. From there, I just went around and made sure no one knew she didn’t have any real armor. By the day of final ceremony, she’d enter the cave wearing beautiful and very crap armor, and die.”

“Why?” I shook my head.

“Just business,” he shrugged. “I was hired to make sure she died. And I had a few connections inside the Chapel of Valor. I’d had everything set up. Then, she runs away in the middle of her big reveal. Heads out into the city. And reaches a small shop to hide inside.”

He chuckled. “I’d wager you were the only occupied building in the city on that day, or one of the few. She must have knocked on a few doors before finding yours. And so, you were, to my complete surprise, hired. My employers couldn’t have that. Even half-decent armor might have ended up saving her life.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked suddenly.

He raised a finger to his lips. “Just listen. I’ll explain once I’m done,” his smile became a bit bitter. “I don’t like this, but I’ll push through it,” still out of the corner of my eyes, he rose and began pacing back and forth. “So. I had to stack the deck and make sure Katya would die in the den of monsters. But how to do that? Well, my attempt to begin with giving her crap equipment failed. But I decided to attack her new armorer. I hired a group of knights who were just dumb enough to do the job, and skilled enough to succeed. You ended up beating the crap out of them, but I was fine with that. I had Andrea watching from a different location, so that she could see your full capabilities. If they failed, then Andrea would be able to use her knowledge to come up with a plan of her own.

“While Andrea gathered her resources, I went another route, and had someone convince an official to start searching out assassins in the market by demanding identification from random passerby. You see the irony? Hiring an assassin, then having someone search for one too?” he chuckled. “But, Richard Dedicat apparently shut that down. Something of a pattern I was beginning to recognize. So I put something else in the works.

“On the night Andrea was moving in for the kill, I had a group of men and women shut down the pass to the mountain with a fake landslide. While the Chapel hired people to clean it, we moved into the den itself and began preparing it,” he stopped pacing. When he spoke again, he sounded sad. “Of course, then I heard that Andrea died. Her bosses keep charms linked to their assassins, and hers exploded when she died. Very sad. But I had to continue.

“I stopped all attempts at killing you,” when my eyes widened, he chuckled. “Well, it wasn’t working after all! I was trying to make it seem like an act of racial hate, so having armed thugs or random assassins attack you would have worked, but apparently only a cannonball exploding your house would have done the job. Not the best way to do things. No, I had another plan ready to go. I was all set to leave you alone.

“And then I saw you standing in a back alley as I was on my way to work,” he laughed. “I mean, what a coincidence! All this time trying to kill you, and there you were!”

I scowled. He shrugged in the corner of my vision. “Well, it was funny to me, but I understand why you’d be less amused. Anywho,” he sat down once again, “there a well-known group of thugs that live in the area around Allgowlden City. I swung by with a sack of gold and sent them running,” he grimaced. “Not the most professional people. Seemed more excited to kill an ‘orc’ than get paid. But they caused enough of a ruckus that I could justify calling in a few of the guard to check out the commotion,” he tapped his armor. “As you can see, I have some connections among them as well.”

“…this won’t work,” he raised an eyebrow. “Your plan. I’ve already finished the armor. Whether I live or die, Katya is going to win. More than that, she’s the Prophesied Child. She is guaranteed to win,” I shrugged. “Kill me, don’t kill me. You lost.”

“And that brings us to the crux of the matter,” he slid the chair forward. “First, I want you to know I respect you.”

I tried to look at him skeptically, but failed. Still, he must have noticed it.

“No, I really do. You, Hasha, Arthur, Katya, Richard. See, I’ve been watching you. Sometimes directly, sometimes through proxies, and sometimes through spells. I’ve seen you at work. You do good work. I have a group of people working for me that do nothing but research magic, and they haven’t come up with some of the ideas that you have,” he shook his head. “But it’s all useless for Katya. Because even as strong as she is, there is one fact against her.”

“There is no prophecy.”

I froze.

“Yeah. The Prophesied Child? No such thing.”

“That… that can’t be—”

“True?” he shrugged. “It is. I was hired because of that fact. My employers want her to die in that den, sending the followers of the Chapel into disarray, and causing disarray. With the combination of the plague years back, it’ll take decades to return things to normal. From there, it’ll be easy to affect real change as my employers prefer.”

“How can you know that!?” I tried to look at him again, but my found eyes sliding away. “And why can’t I look at you!?”

“Well, those reasons are related,” he said softly. “See, Katya is one of several people who were set up to become the ‘Prophesied Child’. I was one of them.” My shock made him laugh. “The Chapel had to keep their followers together after the plague after all. Do you know how much it burned them, to realize that group of dedicated wizards from multiple religions solved the problem, rather than their own priests of light?”

I listened closely, my mind clicking the pieces together as he spoke. “So they came up with the ‘prophecy’. Just vague enough to allow some flexibility, but speaking of a great hero who would save us all. A new hope, solidifying their hold over their people. They took in children, orphans, and raised them to believe in the Chapel. And if they failed to stand up to their standards, they were pushed aside, and the other children were given more love.”

He waved a hand. And suddenly I could look at him.

We met eyes. He wasn’t a big man. But he looked like a fighter. A single scar rested on his cheek. Blue eyes looked into mine, reminding me of Andrea. His hair was pulled into a ponytail like my own, but colored the same blonde as Katya.

“I’m a failed Prophesied Child,” he smiled sadly. “Had a bit of talent in illusions, and a bit of skill in tactical thinking. I can make people decide I’m not worth getting a good look at,” he winced. “Damn it. If I wasn’t getting paid so much…” He shook his head. “So, right. Katya can lose. So the Chapel tried their best to keep her from doing it. They gave her incredible training, teachers from everywhere, but kept her away from more dangerous learnings. Only physical abilities and the basics. She excelled of course. Their plan was to create a warrior who could prove herself if she had to, but would be kept out of the way otherwise. An invisible idol.

He gestured somewhere to the north. “The den of monsters was part of that. Just an empty cave at first. Then the Chapel put in a bear, a small manticore, and a wyvern. Weak beings, poisoned slowly to become pathetic. Easy to kill. But any idiot looking at the corpse afterwards would believe they were tough opponents worthy of the Prophesied Child,” he shook his head. “When we set off the landslide, we changed all that. My personal army of mercenaries are waiting for her, armed with magic and trained to kill. I included some beasts of my own, full grown monsters. She is walking into a den expecting victory, expecting a prophecy and her new armor to protect her.”

He sighed. “Sad really. She seemed nice.”

“…Why tell me all this?” I said, my mind reeling from all these sudden reveals.

“I don’t know!” he spat to the side. “My damn employer they… The smart thing to do is to leave things as they are. Leave you in the cell, let Katya die. Instead, I’ve been paid double to tell you everything!”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“What?” I blinked. “Why?”

“That was my reaction!” He rose up, enraged. “It’s idiotic! No man, no smart man, tells someone their plans before they’ve come to fruition!” he clenched his fist. “As a business man, I can’t turn down that much money. But as a tactician, I’ve never heard of something so stupid.”

He looked at me. “See Char, I respect you. But I’m not an idiot. So I am not, as my employer asked, going to let you go. It’s been what, an hour and some minutes since she left? You might have enough time to catch her, if you run,” he shrugged once more, frowning. “I’ve done my job. I’ve told you the truth. It’s nothing personal Char. But I need to make sure she dies.”

He turned to walk out. As he walked I felt the molten steel core of my magic seem to hum.

All that he’d told me, one thing stood out. Katya was walking into a trap. My friend, the sweetest person I ever met, was in the center of a conspiracy that would kill her.

“I’m going to stop you,” the words were whispered. But Jeremy stopped. He looked over at me. I stared at him, knowing my eyes were changing to the orchis amber that reflected my rage.

“…You know, I actually hope you do,” he sighed. “I’ve been paid already. And gods, I hate my employers. So, as much as it’s unprofessional of me… I hope you shut down those idiots. Be a nice bit of catharsis, seeing those morons get their comeuppance.”

He turned to bow. As he did, I felt my eyes slip away. “It was nice meeting you Char. Hopefully the next time I see you will be under better circumstances.”

I heard him leave. Then I rose from the bed.

Time to go to work.

------

Resources, and time. Those are all I needed to be dangerous. But in that small cell, I had little of either. There was two ratty old beds made of a crap mattress and metal frame, the clothes on my back, and the bars of my cell. As for time, I had little of it. I had to get out, find out where the den was, and warn someone that Katya was walking into a trap. All before she could step inside.

Damn it, why hadn’t I asked any questions about the procedures for the damned den!?

I pushed away my frustration. I pushed away my fears, my anger, and my sadness. All of it was useless. I needed cold logical thought. Planning, not emotion, would get me out of this.

I had metal. Metal framed beds, metal cell bars.

My body. My orchish strength, and my magic.

The stone beneath my feet, rough to the touch. And one more thing.

I picked up the bucket meant to serve as a toilet. I wrinkled my nose, then touched the wood. Oak. Good, strong, solid oak, wrapped in an iron band to keep it together.

More than enough.

------

First, I wrapped the bucket in the thin mattress and shattered it in my hands, using the mattress to muffle the noise. Once I was done, I had a group of thin shards of woods. Smelly wood, but wood nonetheless.

I gathered the wood and carefully used one of my tusks to open a cut in my hand. Without any real reagents, my blood would have to do for my runes. Then I ripped a section of the bed, wrapping the cheap cloth around a piece of wood. I wrote out kenaz on the piece of wood just below the wrapped cloth, going as carefully as I could. It took around two minutes to make sure it was perfect. Then, flooding the rune with the molten heat of my magic, I watched the piece of wood ignite and set the cloth alight.

Now I had fire. And my time was getting shorter. Soon, someone would smell the smoke. I had to hurry.

Fire powered by a rune gets hot faster than most do, while using less of the heat. Working with the fire, I quickly burned one of the other wooden shards, creating charcoal in bare seconds thanks to the insane het of my unstable flame. Mixing it with my blood, I quickly cauterized my bleeding cut once I was done, pushing down my rage. With the charcoal mixed with blood, I now had a very crap reagent. Good enough for this however. The runes I’d create would be unstable. But that was fine.

Grabbing the iron band that the bucket had been wrapped by, and another ripped section of the bed, I scratched out the rune for ūruz. The rune of untapped potential and strength, this was the rune I’d used to enhance Katya’s strength and speed. Then I connected it to the rune for laguz. The rune of flow, of water, and of renewal of health.

ᚢ- Ūruz

ᛚ- Laguz

Then I placed the iron band at my waist and wrapped it with the cloth, leaving it unused for now.

Next I flipped one of the beds over on its side and quickly scratched out the rune for algiz. Used for defense and protection in most cases, I’d used it before to create many things, including the defenses for Katya’s armor.

ᛉ- Algiz

It was terrible. I felt a hint of shame underneath the cold logic that had controlled me, looking at the runes I’d made. No precision, more liable to fail than usual.

But I had no time.

Leaving the bed with the flat facing the door, I did the same half-assed rune on the other. Then it was time for the door. Outside, I could hear people running. I moved quickly, grabbing my blood soaked charcoal and smearing it on the doors. This time I didn’t specify the runes. I slapped the most volatile runes I could think of, moving quickly. I could hear footsteps coming closer, and worked as sloppily as I could.

Once done, I hopped behind the beds. For a moment, I hesitated. Then I activated the runes on the door.

Fifteen sloppily created runes, made of crap reagents, attached to cold metal cell door. Only chaos could follow.

And as someone stepped inside, that’s exactly what happened.

The explosion that followed as violent magic clashed made my ears ring. The beds held for a moment, the algiz symbol glowing a bright yellow as it absorbed the destructive force. Then, as I watched, the rune closest to me slowly disintegrated. Then I felt the beds fling me back.

I screamed. A sharp pain came from my chest. The world was nothing but noise and light.

Then it stopped. For a moment, I simply breathed, feeling pain all over my body. I coughed, a bit of blood coming from my lips. Slowly, I reached for the iron band on my waist.

The molten heat of my magic filled the two runes. Ūruz glowed a bright purple while laguz became a deep sea blue.

“…those aren’t supposed to glow.” I said dumbly. Then I gasped. The molten heat of my magic roared. My chest, once full of pain, seemed to crack, then become filled with a soothing warmth, like a hot bath on aching bones. Energy flooded me.

I rose to my feet, and picked up the torch I’d made, still glowing with unstable fires.

No time left. I still had to escape from the middle of a guard station.

At the door, three men had been blasted into a wall. Unconscious. Apparently while my makeshift explosive was powerful, it wasn’t enough to kill them. I wondered if I should have felt disappointed in the runes I’d made for a moment, but pushed that aside. I ripped a longsword from one of the men’s waists and ran down the hall.

While getting escorted in, I’d seen most of the make-up of the station. I knew where the exit was. More importantly…

Spinning around one hallway, I saw a man staring at me in shock. I charged this guard, roaring. A fully grown man, dressed in full plate armor, screamed, throwing his hands up and running. I followed him briefly, then switched to another hallway.

I didn’t want to kill anyone, but I needed to escape with a few things as well. Scaring was a good happy medium to keep people from dying without stopping.

The room I headed for had several crates pushed up against the wall, and two women and one man sitting at a thick wooden table. They had been playing a game of cards when I entered, rising up and looking around, possibly due the explosion I’d caused. When the shadow of my form appeared, they looked up.

I was already charging.

“Light!” the man yelped. I grabbed the table and flipped it. Powered by the ūruz rune on my waist, my already massive strength was now insane. I felt like a raging dragon as I spun the table around, slamming it into the three humans. They flew into the walls like cannons, slamming into the stone with painful force. I felt invincible for a moment.

Then I coughed up blood. I looked at my waist to see the runes flickering.

“Damn,” that was the problem with using unstable runes to power yourself. They began to tear into the body, forcing the muscles, veins, and tendons to try and compensate for the horrific pressure.

With no other choice, I pulled the iron band off. I immediately felt my strength leave me, and fell to a knee. Taking a deep breath, I rose up and hobbled over to a crate. Opening it, I found my satchel, sitting on other items. This was the room they’d put my things in.

Putting the satchel on, I slowly turned around.

Okay, no more logic. I brought back all of my rage. My fear, my sadness, all of it came forth. I almost felt my eyes change color.

No more planning. No more runes. For this, I’d need to run hard, and do it as violently as possible.

I hesitated. To do this meant letting go of everything. But I knew I needed it. That power I’d felt in my most horrific moments…

“…All right.” Two steps forward, my muscles clenching. My mouth opened. I reared my head back. My arms swung out.

What came out of my mouth was a noise I would never have believed normal lungs could produce.

It was a scream, a shriek, and a battle-cry. My roar shook the room. The exhilaration of releasing my rage, of giving in to that dark part of me, almost took over.

And yet, all of my fears of losing control faded. Even as I felt all of the anger I’d built up over the years, all of desperation and loneliness, my fear for Katya and myself, it didn’t come out as a blinding rage. Instead I felt focused. As though by accepting my anger, I’d attained some sort of enlightenment.

I didn’t take the time to truly inspect the feeling. I reached for the sword I’d stolen, held it before me, and started sprinting.

The explosion I’d caused had created a ruckus. When I began sprinting through the hallways, guards were beginning to fill it. On seeing me, massive in form, armed with a sword, leaking blood from my mouth, red eyes glowing as I silently sprinted towards them, they immediately started slashing.

But in my focused rage, the battle frenzy I’d discovered, even the well-trained guards seemed easy to defeat. It all seemed to happen in one fluid movement.

I punched one man, throwing him into his friend, blocked a sword with the one I’d stolen to stab a woman in the shoulder, used my massive body to simply bull past people. It was fast, ferocious, and efficient. My anger only seemed to fuel and reveal my enemies, not blind me with emotion.

Step, step, thrust. Step, step, kick. Step, step, grab, and throw.

Even with my newfound focus, I still found myself getting cut up. The guards were too good to simply ignore. And I was avoiding killing them, which gave them more chances to kill me. But the advantage of my strength, and my refusal to stop simply sprinting forward was enough.

The officer who’d arrested me, Chris, stepped in front of me just before I got to the doors.

“Stop, orcl—”

Even in my focused state, a fresh blaze of hot anger filled me at the sound of yet another person calling me ‘orc’. I continued my sprint forward, charging straight towards Chris. His eyes widened. He took his sword out, ready to impale me.

I smacked his sword away with mine. Moving with my full speed, my mass slammed into him like a bull. He had enough time to shriek in shock. Then I slammed into the wooden doors that lead outside.

We slammed into the ground, surprising a group of guards who’d been heading in. Before they could move, I spun to my feet and took off into the streets. I could hear others telling me to stop or else.

Like hell. I was running out of time.

I set my jaw, ignored my wounds, and simply pushed forward. I zigzagged, went to the roofs, and stuck to the shadows. Like I had two weeks and a lifetime ago.

When they stopped chasing me, I’d run home. I needed to save Katya. And only one thing could help me do that.

------

When the door to my house opened, I was surprised to see Jennifer. But not as surprised as she was to see me.

“Char!” she stared at me, horrified. I couldn’t blame her. While the blood had dried, I still had streaks of it all over me, including from my mouth thanks to my reckless use of body enhancement magic.

“Hey Jennifer,” I said blandly, stepping past her.

“Char!” Arthur and Hasha rose up from the table, where drinks and papers had been set up.

“Hey,” I ignored the papers, simply walking towards the workroom. Then I stopped when I realized what I was looking at. “Is that a schematic for the guard station I was taken too?”

The three adults looked at the papers, then shared a look.

“Were you going to break me out?”

They smiled sheepishly. I smirked, feeling a bit of warmth. “Well, thank you,” I wiped the smirk away,” But there’s no time.”

“What, why?” Hasha said, the three of them following me.

“Katya’s in danger,” I ripped my shirt off, marching through the forges.

“What, that den of monsters?” Arthur cocked an eyebrow at the sight of me throwing the tattered remains of my shirt into one of the forges opening. “Isn’t that the reason why you worked double-time on that armor?”

“Someone has stacked the deck against her.”

“Who?” Jennifer asked.

“Damn it, Char, slow down and talk to us!” Hasha cried out as I opened a crate to grab a shirt.

“I am talking, I’m just doing it while I work. Now, do you have any heal potions? Basic wounds and anti-biotics, maybe something to flush out rogue magic?”

“I do, but you should go to a hospital if you’re hurt!” Hasha protested as I stepped past him.

“No time!” I opened the door to my workshop, “Arthur, help me put on the armor, Hasha, get those potions!”

“Not until you say what this is about!” Jennifer yelled. I moved over the enormous steel plates I’d made a lifetime ago.

“A man named Jeremy came into the cell and told me everything. Katya isn’t a Prophesied Child, there is no prophecy, and some Jeremy is trying to have her killed so that the followers of the Chapel will be left in despair. More importantly right now, she doesn’t have a prophecy protecting her. He’s replaced the weak monsters in the den with his mercenaries, traps, and monsters. If we don’t go and convince Richard to send in help, she could die.”

As I quickly unhitched my armor from its stand, I could hear the adults stop in their tracks to stare at my back.

“…You said you needed potions?” Hasha said.

“Let me help,” Jennifer stepped forward to help with the armor.

“…No prophecy?” I looked over at Arthur. He seemed shocked. “How… how can that be? That prophecy it… it’s supposed be the hope of the land,” he leaned against a counter, some scraps of metal falling as he did. “She’s…we’re supposed to be safe from now on. The Light…”

Damn. I looked at Arthur as Jennifer continued to remove my armor, trying to decide what to do. Arthur was a true believer. Like many, the Prophesied Child was a symbol of hope for him, of a tomorrow untouched by the horrors of the plague. Seeing him now… it was like seeing how everyone else would react. When they realized how

“I…” I sighed. “Maybe there is no prophecy. But there is a hero. A good, kind girl who some people are being paid to kill. We need to go out there and try to convince Richard to go help her.”

“So why are you putting armor on?” Jennifer asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“In case nobody listens to the random orc telling people that the leadership of the Chapel has been lying.”

“Damn it,” Arthur shook his head rubbing his face.

“It’s not so bad,” Hasha walked into the room. “I’d assume, even with this deception, that there are more than a few leaders of the Chapel who are honest victims. In the end, this is not the first time in history a religious organization has used lies to control the populace.”

“Should we even believe this?” Arthur looked around. “I mean, the person who told you this, he tried to kill Katya, right?”

“And me,” I put on my steel cotton shirts as Arthur gaped at me. “He sent a group of knights, an assassin, and those thugs tonight.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t you say that!?” Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Light save me, I need a drink.”

“In truth, it all fits,” Hasha rummaged through a bag he’d gotten. “The prophecy seemed to come out of nowhere, with no indications of such a thing before the plague was cured. I imagine it was done to consolidate power after the plague ended up being cured by a group of wizards rather than the priests.”

“That’s what Jeremy said,” I held my arms out to let Jennifer put on my chestplate, strapping it to the backplate.

“I only have basic potions,” Hasha took out a glass vial filled with red liquid. “Contusions, cuts, so on and so forth.”

“How long would it take to get an advanced potion?” Arthur asked. I could tell from the way he was speaking, slow and deliberate, that he was still shaken. Trying to distract himself.

“I don’t keep any, because they tend to rot after a week. And it takes twelve hours to make them.”

“Twelve hours?” Jennifer helped me with my leg armor, strapping it on.

“Time is, and always will be, the cost for quality, and advanced healing potions are a big part of that,” Hasha shook his head. “Char, I don’t think you should go. I’m an experienced fighter, I can go and handle this.”

“You can,” I shook my head. “But I can’t let you go without helping in some way. Besides, my armor and my strength can help.”

“Char,” at the seriousness of his voice, I looked. His face was… ancient. Even though I knew he measured his age in centuries, I never really considered him old. He was inquisitive, thoughtful, knowledgeable, and energetic. But now, seeing the sadness on his face… he just looked old. “You don’t understand what we might be walking into. You say this person, the one who told you all this, turned the den of monsters into a trap, with an army of mercenaries and monsters? Then this is a war. And war is not something I can let you go to.”

He sighed. “This won’t be like battles in the stories. The villains won’t be easily killed men and woman you can slap aside with little to no consequences. They will be people. Smart, strong, trained, and emotional people. They will pull every bit of willpower they have to kill you. And if you kill them… that will stay with you.”

Jennifer placed the last piece armor, handing me my simple helm.

“Hasha, any story with such black and white sorts of characters is not a good one,” I stepped forward and took the basic heal potion from his hand, opening the cork and swigging the horrific tasting potion down. I scowled at the feel of my wounds painfully sealing, the magics that I’d enhanced myself with slowly dissolving into my blood and fading away. “I know this will be bad. And I’m not ready for what is coming, not mentally. But Katya is going to need help I can trust. That’s you and me.”

“What about me?” Jennifer asked with a smirk.

“You need to gather your employees,” I said with a sad sigh. “If you feel like helping, I’d like to know there is a small group of skilled people ready to help us escape the den.”

“Escape?” Jennifer asked.

“The Chapel might have somethings to say about us knowing the truth about the prophecy. We need someone to protect those who weren’t involved in the consipiracy. Can you do anything?”

She simply smirked.

“And me?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t have armor to protect you like mine does, and you’re about as trained for combat as I am,” I said simply.

“Hmph,” Arthur scoffed. “Then I suppose I’ll simply sit on my arse then?”

“No. You tell the story if we die,” I step out of the workshop. My armor, heavy as it is, forces me to use a portion of my strength to move. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. Right. I hadn’t activated the runes yet.

“Char, I can’t let you go,” Hasha says behind me. Before I can turn to look at him, something hits me in the back. Nothing big, just a slap of sorts, with sound of metal on metal following.

Then I gasp as my body shudders.

“Not without completing that armor,” Hasha says as my vision goes white. “The rune you described to me, the one joined with laguz and jera? It’s as you suspected. A rune of connection, on a level I could barely understand. I deciphered it. And now I’ve used it on your armor. Thirty-seven runes, now working in complete concert,” he sighed sadly. “It was supposed to be a gift. Something to help you get your grandmastery in rune making. But it’s best to use it now.

“I…” I blinked, my vision clearing. My hands closed and opened as power seemed to hum within me. “I thought that was impossible?”

He stepped around to look up at me, smirking. “Char. Come on. This is magic. Nothing is impossible with enough research, intelligence, and resources,” he looked over my shoulder. “Jennifer? I believe one of your former boys owns a stable nearby?”

“I’ll have him prepare some horses,” she said quietly.

“Boy,” I looked over at Arthur. He nodded. “Be safe.”

“…I’ll try.”

Hasha and I left.

------

The horses we got were fast. Very fast. And strong as well, to carry me in full armor (Though I looked ridiculous with my large frame on a horse, even considering the massive steeds we’d gotten). So much so that I was wondering if they were as enhanced as I was in my armor.

Still, the den was far enough from city limits that I had time to go over what Hasha had done to my armor.

Originally, its runes were very similar to Katya’s. I’d based things like the jump jets I’d placed in her armor off my own armor, though hers were more advanced. But now, with Hasha’s placement of the connection rune, whatever that rune was, my runes were working with twenty percent better efficiency and power. My strength, speed, and jump jets were better than ever.

Of course, things weren’t perfect. The weapon I had on my right gauntlet only had one projectile within. I’d brought several explosives as well in my satchel, and some black powder and projectiles to reload the weapon (Really needed to name the damn thing) but it took a long time reload. My only other weapon, besides my enhanced strength, was the left gauntlets own spells, based on the dagger Jennifer had destroyed. Other than those, I had nothing. I’d need to consider adding more weaponry to my next armor, or simply upgrade this one.

Something to consider if we made it out.

Still, it seemed like my armor would do the job. While still not as well made as Katya’s armor, I could depend on it.

When we got to the so-called den of monsters, a large crowd was gathered. Maybe hundreds of people, all gathered in the canyon where Hasha had led me too. The ground was mostly smooth stone, the glacier that had created the canyon long since gone.

We stopped our horses by the fence that had been placed to cordon off the area, and tied them next to the other horses, rushing into the crowd.

I felt glad for my helmet then. I didn’t like crowds. Or rather, crowds didn’t like me. But at least the helmet, with its opaque glass helm, kept them from see my orc features. As it was, I just looked like a giant armor. Still intimidating, as the people parting before me with widened eyes proved, but not worthy of a riot.

When we came up to the other side of the crowd, we could see a set of white tents trimmed with gold placed to the right of a large hole in side of the mountain, the tents entrance festooned with the fist of the Chapel of Valor. A group of guards stepped forward to stop us from crossing the fence that kept the cheering crowd from coming any closer. Hasha reached into his pants pocket as we came up, and took out the same credentials he’d shown to Richard.

“I’m a wizard from Jarvin Tower, here to give information to one Richard Dedicat.”

The five guards looked at each other, confused. “Didn’t one of you people already come along?” One of them asked.

“One of us?” Hasha frowned. “Did you get their name?”

“Chick Hammer.”

“Chick Hammer?” I repeated, shocked. Hasha hung his head as I cocked mine to the side. “That doesn’t sound real.”

“He chose it,” Hasha sighed. “Well, I need to bring something to Richard.”

“Yes sir,” The guards opened a gate on the fence, letting us go forth. Two of the guards followed as we went.

“Okay,” Hasha sighed again. “Char, remember what I told you about ignorance? What are the two ways to cure it?”

“Acknowledgement and information,” I answered in confusion at his bad mood. I looked at the den of monsters, obviously the large cave. It was oddly foreboding.

“Right, well Chick Hammer is what happens when some refuses to do either,” Hasha frowned. “He’s a know nothing, know-it-all. His knowledge of the universe is infinite… in his own mind. He knows just enough things to claim to be a wizard, but any real magic-user keeps him away from the real experiments.”

“Is he going to be a problem?”

“Not really,” as one of the guards entered the tent to announce our arrival, Hasha smirked. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to punch that smug bastard.”

The guard opened the tent to let us in. Hasha entered first. When I followed, I was surprised to find a party.

Men and women dressed in clothes and jewelry that represented wealth few could imagine were surrounding a table full of food and drink from all over the world. Halfling and human servants were rushing about the tent, making sure the human, dwarf, and elven wealthy were well taken care of. An elven woman was singing at the far right of the tent, plucking at a harp.

The Arch-Bishop was sitting on the right of the man at the head of the table, with Richard next to him. He was whispering in that man’s ear as Richard slowly picked at his food. From the stressed look on his face, I imagined he was worried about something.

To the left of the man at the head of the table was the magistrate of Jarvin. He was watching Arch-Bishop with a cocked eyebrow.

When we entered, no one really noticed. Hasha moved for Richard, with me following. As I stepped forward, the conversation hushed. While they hadn’t noticed us enter, a man of my size in armor that further bulks him up does not go unnoticed.

One of the men, a relatively good looking elf with black hair, blinked at the sight of Hasha.

“Hasha? The hell you doing here, you recluse!?” He grinned, eyes slightly unfocused as he carefully balanced a wooden mug in one hand.

“Hammer,” Hasha said simply, stepping past where the man sat.

The man, Chick Hammer apparently, snapped his hand out to grab Hasha’s arm. Hasha froze very, very still. “Oh come on mate, don’t be a stranger! I was just telling uh… what was your name sweetie?”

His companion, a young dwarf woman who was very deliberately eating her meal, said, “Cordelia.”

“Ah, Cordelia, about our research into physics! That we might one day prove the reasoning of cold energy in space? Fascinating, no?”

Hasha sighed. “Hammer, there is so much wrong with what you’ve said, including describing ‘cold’ as energy when it is merely an absence of heat, but—”

The other elf smirked. “Oh Hasha, you really need to get out and about in the world. Maybe you’d learn a thing or two!” Hasha seemed very close to snapping. “Why of course cold energy exists! Why else would we have snow and ice?”

“Because heat is removed from water, forcing the molecules to slow, creating a damned solid! It’s all due to an absence of heat, not an inclusion of cold!” Hasha ignored the way the rest of the table was now staring at us. Richard blinked in shock, rising up to come meet us. I leaned over to Hasha.

“We don’t have time for this,” I hissed. “Come on.”

Hasha took a deep breath, then pulled his hand away from Hammer to walk off.

“Hmph… Ignorant bastard,” Hammer mumbled, taking a large chug of his drink.

I winced.

Hasha spun around and leaped towards Hammer. In one smooth move that faster than I could believe, he pulled Hammer’s chair out from under him, spun the elf around to press him into the table, and grabbed a pitcher of water. He poured the water over the man as he held the shocked Hammer to the table. Hammer sputtered, trying to spit out the water pouring on his face.

Then Hasha said a single word. “Infrizda.”

The water froze. Hammer tried to scream, but only whined through his nose. His mouth, neck, and hands were all covered in ice.

Several guards sprung forward. I stepped in their way, with Richard doing the same.

“Do you feel that?” Hasha hissed. “That is the feeling of me removing heat from the water. Now, according to your hypothesis, this means that ‘cold energy’ has filled the water, turning it to ice. So all you have to do to avoid hypothermia, is to remove that cold energy,” Hasha stepped back, leaving Hammer frozen to the table, eyes wide with fear. “Ignorant my ass.”

“Hasha, Char,” Richard looked between us, shocked. “What… What are you—?”

“Katya’s in danger,” I said quickly. “Someone has filled the den with soldiers and monsters of their own. They’ve rigged the whole thing.”

“I thought the point of the whole thing was that it would be dangerous, isn’t it?” Cordelia, the pretty dwarf who’d sat next to the still struggling Hammer, asked. “Isn’t the point of the prophecy that she can’t lose?”

I ignored her. “Richard, we need to talk privately.”

With all these high-ranking officials, I couldn’t risk simply blurting out the truth about the prophecy, not without causing a fight.

He frowned, looking around at the staring partiers, and nodded towards a set of drapes blocking an entrance to another part of the tent. He waved off the guards, and Hasha and I followed.

Inside was a small table. It had been set up with a map of the area we stood in, with small figurines all over it. As we entered, Mountain looked up. He been resting near the table. I removed my helmet, smiling at the massive dog. He grinned at me, rising to gently press his head against my armored chest. I scratched behind his ears.

Richard looked between Hasha and me.

“I don’t understand, someone is trying to kill Katya?” Mountain stilled at that, which Richard ignored. “Who?”

“A man by the name of Jeremy,” I said.

“That merc leader?” Richard frowned. “I’ve heard of him, but he only does work near the capitol.”

“Well he came to my cell today,” I said. “It’s why I escaped. To warn you—”

“You escaped prison!?” Richard said, horrified. “Light save me, you need to surrender! Katya will speak on your behalf, we’ll let you out, but if you remain a fugitive—”

“Richard, we have bigger damned issues!” I yelled.

He shut his mouth, surprised.

“Someone has rigged the den to kill Katya. Things are… we need to send people in to help her. Guards, paladins, priests—”

“You will do no such thing,” We turned to see the Arch-Bishop enter. He glowered at the sight of me. “Orcling. I will have you arrested for interfering in this sacred ceremony.”

“You tried that,” I said softly. “It didn’t take.”

His eyes gleamed, and he frowned. “The Prophesied Child has been in the cave for five minutes. She will exit, as foretold, with her first of many victories. As the prophecy says.”

“Except that it isn’t quite so certain, is it?” Hasha asked.

The Arch-Bishop’s eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter.

“There is no prophecy,” I’d had my doubts. After all, when you are told your whole life that something is certain, you can’t help but believe it. But now, with the unmoving look to the Arch-Bishops face, I knew. It was true. Or to put it better, it was a lie.

“…Arch-Bishop?” Richard asked. Mountain took a place behind me, looking at the old priest.

“Father Richard, arrest these men. Kill them if they resist,” The Arch-Bishop turned, apparently satisfied.

“Not even going to deny it?” I asked. He stopped. “Even if it wasn’t your plan, your body language says it all.”

“The classic signs of evasiveness, the pupils movement to indicate sudden stress, a lack of shock or denial at a sudden accusation, as the subject already knew the information being presented,” Hasha said. “All indicating that you knew there was no prophecy. That you were in on the conspiracy. Keeping power in the Chapel.”

“Arch-Bishop?” Richard sounded hesitant, worried.

“Father Richard, once again, arrest those men!”

The loud bark of noise brought a growl from Mountain. The Arch-Bishop eyed the big dog and frowned severely. “And have the damn beast killed! It annoys me?”

“Well, you certainly go for the petty blows,” I mumbled under my breath. Mountain huffed out a doggy laugh.

“Mountain?” Richard stepped forward, moving past us. “Sir, he’s Katya’s friend, not a simple beast. What is happening to you? You haven’t ever acted like—”

The Arch-Bishop slapped him. We stood in silence, shocked. Richard’s eyes widened. Then they narrowed as the Arch-Bishop leaned forward.

“The girl is in the den. From now on, her life belongs to me. And I will nothing in that life second guessing my decisions. Now, you will do as I said.”

The Arch-Bishop left. I was shocked.

“Does he really think you’re going to follow that order?” I asked incredulously.

“…Apparently,” Richard said. He took a deep breath. “No prophecy?”

I quickly explained everything about Jeremy and what he said. His claims, his plans, and the attempted murders.

“…Okay,” he shook his head. “We go in, now. Prophecy or not, I won’t wait outside while a man is trying to kill my charge.”

I refrained from mentioning that he had already sent her into a den of monsters.

“Char, grab a sword from that trunk,” As I moved, Richard went to the wall of the tent and took his sword out.

“What happened to Stormcall?” Hasha asked as I unlocked the massive wooden trunk.

“That lightning blade you gave Katya?” Richard sliced through the tent, stepping out. “Gave it back to her. She went in with all her little tools as well.”

“Thank goodness for small miracles then,” Hasha turned, only to raise an eyebrow when he saw the weapons I was carrying. “Two swords? And that is just… Char, you understand that bigger is just unwieldy?”

I strapped one sword, a simple longsword, to my waist. Then the other, a claymore as wide as my bicep and taller than Arthur, I carried.

“It’s not for showing off,” I looked over at Mountain. He grinned, then moved to join Richard. I followed him as I spoke. “That merc, Jeremy, said something about beasts and demons. I don’t know what kinds, but I believe most beings in existence have an inability to deal with five feet of steel slamming into their throats.”

Richard immediately walked towards the cave when we were all out. As we moved closer, I could see some of the guards step forward to intercept us. He didn’t stop moving, only whispering to us. “Mountain, don’t kill them.”

The dog grinned. As we came closer, one of the guards stepped forward. “Sir, I need you to—”

Mountain leapt forward. His jaws glowed with blue light, and he tackled the guard down. The armored man only had time to shriek before almost a ton of furry beast was slamming into him and bringing him down. The other guards yelped, cursed, or stared at Mountain.

“Go, now!” The three of us, human, half-orc, and elf, charged for the den. The other guards got over their shock, tried to follow us. Mountain barked with sort of pure happiness only animals and children can feel, following us.

Beneath my fear, my worry, and my anger, I felt excitement. Dressed in full armor, charging a cave of monsters alongside my friends, all to save another, with guards shouting for us to stop?

It felt like the first steps into an adventure.

Then we entered the den. Dirt gave way to stone. The light of the sun traded for the dark of the den. The shouts outside slowly faded as we went deeper in, until all we heard were our footsteps on the stone. I almost slipped on the smooth stone, but quickly readjusted.

Deeper we went, leaving the world behind.