Chapter 1 – Lost

-Starting Knox Stats-

-Personal Status-

-Name: Knox-

-Level: 19 (E Rank, Tier 9)-

-Essence To Next Level: 3,201/4,700-

-Health: Fair Tier 9-

-Mana: Fair Tier 9-

-Stamina: Fair Tier 9-

-Mind: 87-

-Body: 87-

-Spirit: 87-

“I’m not lost,” Knox repeated for the fifth time. “I just don’t know exactly where we are, but I can sense our destination.”

Night rolled in hard, filled with cold rain and the promise of snow if the temperature continued to drop, but Knox wasn’t worried about that just yet. No, right now he was more worried about the distant yet faint feeling of the Titan Complex. Why was it that he could only barely feel it? Why wasn’t it a blazing beacon as it had been before?

His thoughts immediately turned to the three pirate golems he’d left with Mic and wondered if perhaps that was a mistake. His footsteps sloshed water about as he walked, his thoughts as dreary as the current weather.

“What are the chances they’ve messed something up without me being there to keep them in line?” He questioned the air around him in a muttering tone. Dernal seemed to hear him well enough and grunted in response.

“Hhrmm,” he said with his usual verbal affinity.

Dernal was the type of man who had few words to say, but when he spoke you listened. Knox could tell that Dernal was working himself up to speak, a chore he didn’t much enjoy, so he fell into silence and let the old Adventurer get his words together.

After a time, Dernal put a hand on Knox’s shoulder and spoke.

“How much further?” Dernal asked. Knox’s connection with the Titan Complex was something visceral and hard to define, but he knew one thing for certain, they were getting closer. But would it be fast enough?

Understanding the implied question within the question, Knox chose to answer the unspoken question first.

Letting out a deep sigh and feeling thoroughly soaked through, Knox said, “If the rain continues, I think we will lose the dragon’s scent before we reach the Titan Complex. If that happens, we will have a fight on our hands and we will lose lives.”

“Hhrmm,” Dernal said in response to their dire situation.

Then, conjuring up more words than he typically liked to say in a day, Dernal continued to share his thoughts with Knox.

“And will this Titan Complex truly be a safe haven for these people? Don’t just nod—convince me.” Dernal’s usually composed manner of speaking grew hot, surprising Knox. “You are certain that it will be safe; we have women and children that who can’t defend themselves.”

Knox leveled his gaze on Dernal and looked him straight in the eyes, not wavering in the slightest as he spoke with confidence.

“It is a safe haven away from the dangers of the world,” Knox said. Upon further reflection, he added, “Our people are strong and resilient. You don’t live this far out without growing some bark on your skin. There will be dangers, and some people might even die, but trust me when I say this is the safest place within a hundred miles.”

Knox’s thoughts turned to the Guild Charterhouse and the strange activity that had occurred there during his last visit. He wondered if Garrick was well and pondered the mysteries awaiting at the Guild Charterhouse. Then his mind shifted to the Mire Gloom Dungeon Town and its slow rebuilding. Surely, they were safe now that he had taken care of the A Ranked Serpent Dragon with the help of Dernal and the mysterious Aetex.

The thought of Aetex had him wondering about the whereabouts of the mysterious B Ranked hero. He’d met the man when saving a group from captivity, but since their meeting, he’d acted as if he knew Knox all along and was sent to aid him on some grand mission. Everything about the man spoke of heroism and grandiose heroic moments. Even the way he’d left at their last meeting, flying off into the distance, was over the top.

Sighing, Knox nodded, reassuring Dernal and himself at the same time. Yes, The Titan Complex—he’d need to figure out a proper name for it eventually—would be the safest place for his friends, family, and the townspeople.

Dernal let the conversation slide back into silence as dark thoughts weighed on Knox when contemplating his family. As far as he knew, he had only one living family member left: his father, Askar Trelling. The man was the living embodiment of sloth and wrath. But something he’d said during their last conversation echoed in his mind.

“Just like your mother,” Askar had said, his words angry and stern.

What had he meant? Knox knew so precious little about his mother, but it had been her influences that led him to where he was today. Her precious journals, a mix between research and random ramblings, gave Knox insight into the woman she might have been—keen and intelligent.

They continued to walk in silence through the rain and the muck, with no monsters yet daring to challenge the powerful scent of the Serpent Dragon that lay heavily on Dernal and Knox. However, thoughts of his mother wouldn’t leave him be, and in time, he found himself walking closer to where his father trudged through the mud.

***

Knox found his father walking beside a wagon that slowly carved a path through the muddy terrain. He carried a heavy load, and once more, Knox was surprised to see him doing more than he’d ever seen him do since his injury. Since the woodcutting incident that deprived him of his arm, he’d always blamed others and stewed in his own misery.

But now, seeing him working hard to help, sweat glistening on his forehead as he pushed himself, Knox couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride in his father. Of course, it was all shattered the moment his father saw him, cursing and picking up his pace.

There was no pleasing this man. Knox had become a being of myth and legend, a Titan, or at least a Titan Born, and it still wasn’t enough to impress his father.

Picking up his own pace and wiping sweat from his brow, Knox hurried after his father. He got another ‘look’ for his trouble, but he ignored it, choosing instead to just walk beside his father for a time.

In the heavy silence that lingered between them, filled with unspoken grief and anger, Knox chose to let it all slip away as they walked. After a time, Askar slowed to a more manageable pace—they’d very nearly reached the front of the caravan by this point. Knox could see Murdoch leading the way on a once-majestic-looking horse that was now covered in mud and muck, same as everyone else.

For what it was worth, Murdoch had somehow managed to keep himself mostly clean, if not extremely wet. Knox slowed his pace to match his father’s as he thought about his friend. As far as he’d been told, Murdoch’s father had died in the attacks and now Murdoch took the position as head of the village.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He was a bit young still, but he had the talent for it, and a few speeches had been all it took to get the rest of the town in on the idea. It was fine with Knox as well, since he had no plans on being some great leader. It was enough that he was expected to be this Titan of Light and endure all the responsibility that came with it. He’d happily given over any sense of leadership to Murdoch when the chance came, much to Dernal’s chagrin.

It was an odd sight, seeing Dernal express any emotion really, but the slight disappointment in his eyes was hard to miss when Knox passed over the buck to Murdoch. What had he expected of him anyways? He wanted to be an Adventurer and that was still his primary motivation.

Like his mother before him, he wanted to discover new things, study magic and its many mysteries, maybe even create new magic himself one day. It was while his thoughts traveled back to his mother that words finally escaped his lips to his father.

“Why don’t you speak of her?” Knox asked, his words ringing out clear despite the rain and sound of travel all around them.

A long silence followed and for once in his life, he thought his father might actually be considering speaking about her. However, all it took was a single look at the angry face and heaving chest of his father to tell him that wasn’t what was holding his tongue.

Despite only having one arm, his father was an imposing figure, much more than he had been months earlier. Most of his belly had gone away, likely due to shortening in rations and the daily experience of working all day long. His muscles on his one good arm bulged and Knox was sure that Askar was about to throw down his pack, ruining whatever rations were being stored in the thick burlap material.

But once more, he was surprised by his father’s resilience. Eyes set forward and a scowl on his lips, Askar continued to walk in silence. This being the longest his father had gone without slinging an insult, Knox began to worry that perhaps something had gotten to him.

But there was no sign of the black goo or the dead eyes that came with possession, though it did remind him of how Garrick had looked back at the Guild Charterhouse. The sudden realization that the Guild Charterhouse might be in danger did nothing to hamper the frustration he was feeling with his father.

“Damnit, father!” Knox said, the words spilling out before he could stop himself.

“Don’t call me that, you little runt!” Askar said, finally breaking the silence. There was pure malice in his voice, and the fury of it caught Knox off guard. But what surprised Knox most of all was what his father had said. What did he mean by that? Why shouldn’t he call him father? Had he excused himself from that duty as well, or did he mean something else?

“What do you mean?” Knox asked, swallowing hard.

There was a weight in the air between them and it was as if someone had paused all of Knox’s senses other than his ability to hear the words that came next.

“What I said,” Askar replied, his voice low and rumbling. “I’ve lost it all because of her—my own son lost.” As he spoke, he shook his head, and Knox noticed something unusual, thanks to his special sense, which remained vigilant over his surroundings at almost all times.

A sparkle of something radiated around Askar, almost as if he had an aura himself—but that was impossible. Only Adventurers had auras. There was even a hint of color in it, but it came and went so fast that he couldn’t tell what it had been.

“You haven’t lost me,” Knox said, feeling a moment of weakness for his father and the burdens he carried. “Why won’t you speak of her? Tell me stories of my mother, how you met, what she was like, anything.”

Askar walked in silence, rain soaking him to the bone, a blank expression on his face. Knox could tell that Askar had noticed the slip-up as well, and as they continued to walk in silence, Knox became sure of something. Askar was not willing to say anything else lest he lose all control of himself and reveal more than he wished. There was more to his father than he knew, and somehow, he would find out what he was hiding.

***

The caravan was more than a day’s journey away from the Titan Complex, that much Knox was sure of, but he wished he could gauge the distance more accurately. Many people were relying on him to get them to safety. They’d stopped for the night, planning to rest for four hours, just long enough for the most exhausted to get some sleep. Though, Knox wasn’t among those seeking to rest.

His inner Strength and Stamina were now far above that of a normal human. Knox was confident that he could sprint the entire way to the complex and only be slightly winded. The idea tempted him, but he couldn't—no, he wouldn't—leave his people behind with no true protection. Despite Dernal's power, he wouldn't be a match for the beasts that would fall upon them once the scent finally left them.

Would I even be a match? Knox wondered, but he pushed those thoughts away as well, preferring his analytical mind. What-ifs were fine; in fact, he used them plenty of the time to work out mysteries of magic and life. However, some what-ifs could be dangerous, such as: what if they didn’t make it?

So, say that we didn’t make it, Knox thought, then what? He had unparalleled power at his disposal, but protecting those around him was difficult at best, impossible at worst—power, or no. But he wasn’t alone. He had friends that, while not very powerful, were loyal and ready to lay down their lives to protect each other. He found his friends at a fire with Murdoch regaling them of a tale that was all too familiar.

“And then, I appeared with sword drawn and we ended that foul beast. I’d wager that if any of the creatures that stalk us are owlbears, they’d best think twice about challenging us,” Murdoch said in his usual overconfident way of speaking.

Much had changed in the year Knox was away. Beth, for instance, seemed no longer interested in him as she had been before. Murdoch had all the same fire, but there was a certain restraint to it that hadn’t been there before. Frederick looked livelier than Knox had seen him when he’d left—he spoke animatedly to Terrim, who nodded along to whatever was being said.

The group quieted down as Knox approached. Murdoch stood and moved over to give him a place to sit, and the gentle roar of conversation continued.

“Where was I? Right, there was a beast that needed hunting and…” Murdoch said, but Beth shot him a look. He cleared his throat, as if he wasn’t just about to go over the whole story all over again.

“There are more than owlbears waiting for us out there,” Knox said, gesturing toward the black void outside of the circle of wagons and campfires. He could sense the presence of dozens of creatures, if not more, all lurking just far enough away to be outside of sight.

Terrim looked up from his quiet conversation with Frederick and smiled in Knox’s direction. “Thanks for the reassuring words. Next, will you be telling us who will die first and how?”

Knox tried to smile back, but it didn’t feel real. Terrim had a way of joking that always got Knox laughing, but it was hard to see the humor in something so close to the truth. For Knox had thought about fighting alongside each of them, weighing their strengths and weaknesses against what they’d face and deciding who would need the most help.

Terrim was a heavy hitter with his massive axe, but he was far too slow to deal with these monsters on an even footing. Beth was quick, possibly quick enough to face off against some of the weaker monsters they might face, but she lacked the power behind her blows to do significant damage. Frederick was a mystery—as much of what Knox knew about his skills, it mostly had to do with his farming abilities.

He was strong, quick when he needed to be, and as sturdy as anyone that made a living farming the harsh lands that they called home. Then there was Murdoch, the fastest among them—save for Knox now—with a precision to his blade that meant he was a deadly foe to face off against. Duels for honor were a thing of the past out on the frontier, but Murdoch had studied and trained his entire life for that type of combat. He was the pinnacle of human speed, wiry strength, and accuracy, yet still, in Knox’s eyes, he found him wanting.

“I’ll die first,” Knox said, breaking the awkward silence that was growing over the group as he pondered the very thing Terrim had been joking about. “Before I let any of you fall, I will gladly give my life.”

“Stop that shit,” Terrim said, reaching across the fire with his massive arms to nudge Knox hard enough to nearly dislodge him from his seat. “Between the five of us, we will be plenty to deal with whatever tries to get in our way. Plus, you said your complex place was safe. We will get there soon, and it won’t matter how dangerous these monsters are, right?”

Terrim seemed to want some reassurance, but Knox had none to give. Instead, he only met Terrim’s gaze, searching his friend for any signs of fear. He found none—just the same old Terrim with too few shits to give and more humor than sense.

“He’s right,” Beth said, suddenly breaking the silence and looking at Knox for the first time since he’d arrived in their midst. “Whatever comes, if we work together, we will overcome. If you’d only come back a little sooner—” Her voice broke off and her breathing increased. She stood suddenly and left, leaving a perplexed Knox looking after her.

Moving to stand, Murdoch laid a hand on his friend’s leg, pushing him back down. “Leave her for now,” he said, no mirth in his voice. “She’s had a rough time of it lately, we all have, but her pain is freshest.”

“Why were you gone for so long?” Frederick asked, his voice a rumbling low thing that Knox could swear had only gotten deeper with the passage of the last year.

Knox looked at each of the faces that awaited his answer but didn’t really know what to say. He’d explained the basics to them when he first met up with them, so what was left to say?

“I came as soon as I was able,” Knox said, deciding that was as close to the truth as he could get. If he were being honest with himself, he’d left sooner than he thought was safe. Which was why he was in the trouble he was now, facing off against a possibly overwhelming force of monsters.

“Leave Knox alone,” Murdoch said, producing a flask from seemingly nowhere and handing it over to Knox. “Let’s drink a bit and warm our bellies. For tomorrow we might be drinking with the Titans in the hereafter. To death!”

“To Death!” Everyone said as one, the group of friends comfortable with the more morbid humor that was prevalent in such an untamed land.

To Death… drinking with the Titans. How little Knox’s friends understood the reality of the words which they spoke. For Knox was a Titan now and they very well might die soon. The future remained uncertain, and Knox was determined to sacrifice himself rather than let any harm befall his friends.

“To Death,” Knox muttered the words once more as he took a warming swig from the flask.