The ringing of bells echoed down the tunnel. Ted's gaze darted around the bare stone walls, searching for the salvation that they'd fought so hard to earn. Where the hell was their contact?
There, a figure, caught in what little light filtered down from the grates above. Had she been there a moment ago?
The tall, cloaked woman swaggered out of the shadows. Runes embossed her dark leather armor, yet nothing on her betrayed even a hint of magic.
Ted’s fingers twitched, his mana and spirit prickling at his insides, begging to be drawn, to be used.
No. This was their contact. It had to be.
He focused in on her. Better safe than sorry.
Ria Siala
She stopped and pulled back her hood—pale skin, pointed ears, long hair held back in a loose braid. A high elf. “Ready to move?”
Ted couldn’t help but snort. “More than ready.”
Cara’s shoulders tensed up. Her hand settled on her dagger, her legs bent ever so slightly, and she had that look in her eyes. The one she had right before battle.
He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
She said nothing, just kept staring.
Ria took off down a side tunnel, unfazed. Professional. “This way. The guards won’t bother to check the older sections.”
Ted jogged along behind her, queasiness rising in his stomach. The nasal assault here was, beyond all reason, even more vile than out there. Yeah, he wouldn’t come here if he had a choice, either.
They followed her deeper into the labyrinth of passages and stench, the clank-clank-clank of Gramok’s armor announcing their position to anyone waiting in the endless shadows.
Spiderweb cracks and intricate carvings decorated the walls here. This was older, from before the Age of Heroes, most likely. Unmaintained. Crumbling.
Dangerous? The Deep-Forest came to mind. This was Hallowed Falls's their equivalent, wasn't it? No wonder tension radiated off Cara like a flare.
Though that didn't explain why she hadn’t taken her eyes off Ria since they’d met her. What the hell had Cara so on edge?
He could message her about it, but what would be the point? She’d only deny it.
Probably just bothered she’s a high elf, rather than a wood elf.
Ria was the expert. No point second guessing her, and she’d been right so far. They hadn’t seen or heard a hint of soldiers since coming down here, despite Gramok's armor broadcasting their presence to anyone and everyone.
A knot twisted in Ted's gut. The guards were probably too busy hacking rebels to death.
Ria gestured ahead to a crumbling archway detailed with carvings of fish and goats. “Almost there. Through that chamber, then we can start the ascent.”
Weight lifted off Ted’s shoulders. If he never had to see this accursed city again, that'd be too soon.
Slender fingers seized his wrist. Cara’s. “Something’s wrong.”
Tension spread up Ted’s arm. He glanced at Gramok, but found only a shrug. Great. Wasn’t Gramok meant to be the people guy?
Ahead, Ria passed out of sight. Without her, their odds of finding it safely out of the sewers weren’t exactly promising.
Ted gritted his teeth. Fine. Cara’s judgement of people couldn’t be any worse than his own. “I’ll buff us up. We stick together, keep an eye on her, it’ll be fine, okay?”
He buffed Cara and Gramok with invisible versions of both Armor and Absorb, and then cast an Invisible Farsight beyond the archway.
The tunnel opened into a circular chamber with a pool in the middle. There were three other exits around the outside, each set into a different wall. Water—at least, mostly water—cascaded into the pool from multiple drainage pipes above. Ria leaned against the wall beside the tunnel entrance, idly playing with one of her daggers.
No army of soldiers waiting. No hideous traps. At least, none he could see. Ted gave Gramok the nod.
Gramok readied his shield and took point. Ted and Cara followed close behind. If this was a trap, the bastards would get more than they bargained for.
Ria, still slouched against the wall toying with her knife, smirked up at Cara. “You're right to be suspicious, little ranger. High price on your boyfriend, here.”
“He's not—” Cara’s fists clenched, and her gaze darted around the room. “We're not… like that.”
Warmth rose in Ted’s chest. Not exactly the most forceful denial of the century. He’d take it. “Cut it out, Ria. We trust you.” Not that we have much choice.
“Good.” She pulled herself up straight, ready to move—then froze up. “Do you hear that?”
Ted cocked his head and listened. Nothing. Well, nothing but the drone of cascading fluids he’d rather think of as water.
A scowl formed on Cara's face. “Soldiers.”
Ria’s playfulness vanished, replaced by cold, hard focus, and she slipped her dagger into its sheath. “Soldiers never come this way. Whatever you guys did kicked up a mountain's worth of fire.”
Ted bit at his upper lip. This solid escape plan wasn't looking so solid anymore. “Options?”
“I don't fancy the orc's odds of sneaking past, and the Resistance didn’t pay me enough to fight the whole damned garrison. We could—” She paused, her face scrunching up. “No, that's too dangerous. We'll have to camp out here, until the heat dies down.”
Ted shook his head and scuffed his boots against the floor. “It won't die down. He won't let this go, not now, not ever.” Adrenaline cut through his veins. “What was that other option?
“Too dangerous.”
“Can’t be more dangerous than what’s coming for us.” Coming for me. Orlanda flashed in his mind. Coming for Cara.
Ria adjusted her armor and let out a low growl. “There's an old one-way portal down here, an ancient escape route to the countryside. I don't think they know about it, but I can’t know for sure. If they do…”
Ted glanced at the worry written across Cara and Gramok’s faces. “Certain death or probably death—I know which one I’m taking.”
“Agreed,” Gramok said, not that he sounded happy about it.
Cara glared at Ria, but eventually gave the briefest of nods. “Fine. Better than waiting around here to be caught.”
That just left Ria. Their guide. The one they were utterly dependent upon.
For a while she just stood there, stuck between terrible choices.
Hard to blame her. She’d get used to it.
“Alright.” And there it was again, the swagger turned back on like a lightbulb. “Let's go.”
She took off at a trot, leading them even deeper. The cracks in the walls became wider, and Ted tried not to think about what the deep red stains strewn across several of the walls and floor were.
Passage after passage, twisting and turning, going down one, two, three sets of stairs. They went for half an hour, an hour, until at long last, there it was. A shimmering blue portal set into an archway, shining like a neutron star.
Ria slouched against a wall and gestured to it. “There. Good luck.”
Cara shook her head and pointedly dropped her hand to her knife. “You're going through first.”
“Is that so?”
Cara squared up to the high elf. “Yup.”
Time dragged to a crawl. Ria stared back at Cara, a perfect poker face holding back whatever calculations were going on in there. “Fine. But you better be right behind me in case they're waiting for us. Do the honors, mage?”
Ted buffed them up with Armor and Absorb, and took a deep breath. “I’ll go second. The Empire wants me alive. Seeing me might make them hesitate.” Even as he said it, it sounded weak. Desperate.
So about right, then.
Ria stepped into the portal. Its magic flared, engulfed her. Consumed her. So far, so good.
He took a deep breath and followed. Magic tingled across his skin, and blue light filled his vision.
The world jolted. He stumbled forward, his vision a blur of gray and blue. A stone room. Three figures.
Ria in the center, smiling, daggers drawn. Either side of her, two white-robed mages flush with Protection magic.
Shit.
Ted pulled on his mana. Pain connected with the back of his skull. The world tilted sideways, and darkness claimed him.
***
Pain lanced through Ted's skull. It dragged him back to consciousness, back to the reality of his cheek pressing against cold stone, the taste of blood in his mouth, and cold steel pressing against his neck.
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A slave collar. Cold. Harsh. Brutal.
He reached for it, but even that seared agony through every nerve in his body.
Muscles spasmed. Breaths refused to come, thoughts shattered, pain screamed at him to stop. To give in. To comply.
He yanked his hands away, and the pain fled. He collapsed, his palms hitting unflinching stone as he gasped for air.
Don’t. Touch. The collar.
His insides twisted at the thought. Just one more entry on the list of things the Emperor had to pay for.
Bit by bit, the panting slowed, and his mind settled down into a manageable franticness.
It was hopeless. Useless. A complete failure.
Stone walls caged him. An iron door. No windows. A simple cell. No obvious weaknesses, not that it would matter with this damned collar around his neck.
He pushed himself up, carefully avoiding touching it. Pain throbbed in the back of his head, but even that was a welcome relief to what the collar had done.
His jaw clenched. He had to get out, had to get free, even if that meant making hard choices. He reached for his mana.
Agony flooded out from the collar. His back arched. His mind spun. A scream echoed.
His scream.
He pulled back, let the mana fall aside. The pain departed as quickly as it came, leaving Edwin curled up in a ball, trembling pathetically.
The door creaked open. Flickering torchlight spilled in, blinding in the darkness. He squinted through watery eyes, his insides tumbling.
Ria. The traitor. Carrying a tray, like anything could make up for what she’d done.
She knelt down, refusing to make eye contact. Upon the tray was a glass—full, clear liquid, maybe water—and a bottle of red liquid. A potion. “Drink these. They’ll help with the pain.”
He stared at her. At the brazenness of it. “How much did they pay you?”
“That's not—” She finally dared to look him in the eyes, and there it was. The eyes of a killer. “My name’s Alenia. I serve the Divine Emperor.”
“Ria?”
“Dead. She’s the traitor, not me.”
A cold void spread through Ted’s chest. “My friends?”
“Safe. My orders were to capture you, not them.”
A shiver coursed through him. The way she said it… “You’re his Companion.”
A nod. A small, tiny, nod, one that confirmed everything.
Memories twisted into knots. Ordering Cara back to the Forest. Ordering her to get the others to safety. Ordering her to stay safe.
How promptly she’d done as she was told. How obedient she’d been each time.
How he’d—
Nausea hit him like a truck. He turned away, fighting to keep it down.
He failed.
When it was done, bile clawed at his mind and throat. This world—it was wrong. He reached for the water. “How long have you…?”
“Since the beginning, before…” Her gaze dropped. For an instant, her lips quivered.
“Before what?”
Silence.
It didn’t matter. Not now. Not anymore.
She glanced at the door and slipped back into her poker face. “Drink the potion.”
It looked like a basic healing potion—enough to ease the throbbing lodged in the back of his skull. Didn’t mean it was one.
Then again, if she wanted him dead, she’d just slit his throat. He tossed the potion back, and cool relief washed away the pain.
The pain at the back of his head, anyway. “What was he like? In the beginning?”
“Different.” Her hand tightened on the hilt of her dagger and she rose to her feet. “The guards will come soon. To take you to him.”
There it was again, another scared glance at the door. Everything about her screamed trapped.
Just like the slaves they'd tried to free. Just like everyone else in this blasted System.
Just like Cara.
“How many times did he die?”
A flinch. A flash of pain. Then it was gone, like it had never been there. “The guards are coming. Don't resist. They won't be gentle.”
She left.
He was alone. Again. Always.
Edwin hugged his knees to his chest. Closed his eyes, back in his room again.
Except no cat. No mom. And dad…
Boots echoed from the hallway. They were coming. Coming to take him.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't fight, couldn't cast, couldn't run. Couldn’t do a damned thing.
Useless. Pathetic. Petulant.
The cell door creaked open. Burly men stomped in and dragged him out. Dragged him through halls. Past painted columns. Past golden statues. Past slaves polishing marble floors.
A left, a right. Corridors either side. Every step, every passageway had to be memorized, had to be remembered. When the chance came, he had to be ready. Ready to try and put this right.
Mahogany double doors swung open. The guards shoved him in and slammed it shut behind him.
Stained glass windows lined the far wall, letting color dance off the clutter of statues, wolf-skin rugs, silver chandeliers, gemstones, ivory horns, glistening trinkets—
There.
By the window.
Staring out.
Him.
A lurch in Ted’s gut betrayed him, even now.
Dad.
Except no. No shadow—not him. Not really.
“Son.”
Another lurch. A flash of joy. Of learning to ride a bike. Of before.
“I’ve missed you.”
Ted's fingernails bit into his palm. Ice exploded his chest. “Fragor didn’t miss.”
“I know you're angry.” The illusion turned, wearing a smile it didn’t deserve. “I understand. But everything I've done, I've done for a reason.”
“Yeah?” Every fiber of Ted’s body clenched tight. “Like abandoning mom?” Abandoning me?
There. A hesitation. Another illusion feigning regret. “I could have gone back. Maybe I should have. But this world needed me then, and it needs me now. You understand that, don’t you? That’s why you’re here. Why you made the same choice I did.”
Her face. Her hand around a bottle. “She never stopped believing in you. That you’d come back.”
The illusion stilled. For a fleeting instant, its eyes widened, like it actually felt something. “How is she?”
“What do you think?”
Its shoulder stiffened. “We have a chance to do good here.”
Ted gestured to the collar around his neck. “You have a strange idea of good.”
A wave of its hand. “They have their ways. Who am I to change it?”
“Emperor.”
“A title, with its benefit, no denying that, but it carries its price. Forgive my lack of physical presence—portals do not agree with the Emperor.”
Treacherous hope gnawed at his stomach. “You’re in charge, aren’t you?”
“Less than I would like.”
A flutter. Too quick to stop.
“I can’t be everywhere at once, Ted. I need lieutenants I can trust. Lieutenants I can depend upon.”
“Lieutenants you can control. Lieutenants like Alenia.”
The illusion turned to the window, to the city sprawled out beyond. “That’s the way the world is, son. Don’t burn it down out of misplaced anger.”
Ted opened his mouth. His ribs pressed in around his heart. No words came.
“The System is dying.”
The weight in on Ted’s shoulders rose.
The weight of a world. The weight he’d never asked for.
The weight he couldn’t say no to.
The illusion continued. “No new children have been born in fourteen years. The System can’t keep going like this. Someone has to fix it.”
Fourteen years. Right when he’d disappeared. When the System had kidnapped him. Ted stiffened up. “What do you mean, dying?”
“It's running out of memory.”
A wave of warmth. His father’s teaching voice. Patient. Kind. Unchanged.
“No maintenance in over ten thousand years. That’s why I stayed. To save these people. To save an entire world of people. You understand that, don’t you, Ted?”
Ted swallowed hard. The same choice he’d made at the Emergency Access Panel. The choice to stay. The choice to fight.
“We’re not so different, you and I.”
There it was. The lie slipped in so carefully amongst the truth. “You murdered Orlanda in cold blood.”
“A regrettable necessity, boy. You had to learn the truth. They’re toys, not people.”
Silence. That’s all he deserved.
“You’ve learned that lesson now.” Eric’s tone softened. Another lie. “I won’t have to teach it again. It can be different going forward. For you. For your friends. For the people of Hallowed Falls.”
A chill ran down Ted's spine. “What?”
“I’m offering you a place by side. Real power to make real change.” Eric stepped closer, his projection more solid, more real than before. “Your Companion, that wood elf—Cara. She could be captain of your royal guard. The orc, Gramok? I'll make him a general. And you...” Here it came, the bait in the trap. “How would you like to be Magister of Hallowed Falls? I hear there’s an opening.”
Magister.
Ted’s legs trembled. Hot and cold flushed through him.
“Think about it. You could end the slave trade with the stroke of a pen. Save lives instead of taking them. Make real, meaningful change. Isn't that what you wanted? To help people?”
“I...” His heart hammered against his ribs. He could save them. All of them. At least, those he hadn’t already gotten killed in his stupid crusade.
He could make a difference.
Orlanda’s face flashed. How she’d bowed before he… “You can't—”
“Can’t what, boy? Do what I did?”
Ted’s eyes welled up. He stepped forward, clenched his fists. “Bring. Her. Back.”
“It's too late. The soul must be caught within hours. She's gone, boy. Nothing can change that.”
A knife twisted in Edwin’s gut. Another night wondering what he’d done, why— “She was practically a kid!”
“I did what was necessary. That's what leadership means. Making the hard choices so others don't have to.”
Ted growled. Stepped forward. Wasn’t afraid. “Was it worth it? Throwing away everything just to rule this broken world?”
“I made a hard choice.” Eric stepped in, loomed large, raised his voice. “One day, you’ll have to grow up and make one, too, unless this world’s one more thing you don’t care about.”
“If you cared about this world, you’d have fixed it when you had a chance!” The words came easier now. Flowed like quicksand burying Ted alive. “Why? Why?”
“What would you have done? Rushed in, fixed the world, hurried home to the treadmill of mediocrity?”
“Yes!”
The illusion laughed. It didn’t even have the decency to be a cruel laugh. “It’s a good thing children like you don’t run the world. Still, we all have to start somewhere.”
Breaths came fast, one after another. “Explain.”
It circled him, eying him up. “You’ll learn, with time, but we’ll start small. Hallowed Falls. It needs a strong leader. One not afraid to make hard choices.”
A flash. Orlanda’s broken body. Eric’s smile.
Ted shook his head. “No. I won’t be like you.”
“You already are. Driven. Determined. Willing to kill to do what’s right. How many have you slain? How many have you gotten killed?” His father stopped circling, towered over him. “How many more will die for your pride?”
Ted stumbled backward.
“Work with me son. Stop these mindless deaths. NPCs are a currency to be spent strategically, not wasted on your own foolish personal crusades.”
“Strategic? Is that what you call it?”
Eric stepped back. “I overreacted. We can’t afford for you to be attached. Not now that you have to be the one to decide.”
Thoughts of all those people relying on him flooded through Ted’s mind, urging him to take the bait.
No. Not this time.
Silence stretched out. A reprieve. A break.
“The Destroyer is growing more powerful. The dungeon spawn threat will only accelerate. Ragnarok will soon be upon us. What are you doing to change that, besides trashing my plan to save this world?”
The Emergency Access Panel. Locking him out. “You…”
“Had a plan, yes. A plan fourteen years in the making. You better hope I find a vulnerability in the System, boy, or you will have the deaths of an entire world on your conscious.”
Ted scrambled back. “No.”
“You’re pathetic, you know that? Thrashing around with no concept of how you hurt those around you.”
Ted shook his head. “I won’t be your tool.”
There it was. That look of failure. At sports. At making friends. At being normal. “Then you'll have to learn the hard way. Guards!”
The door burst open. Guards stomped in, grabbed Ted by the arms.
“Take him to the slave pens. Let him see the cost of his principles.”
***
The guards shoved Ted forwards. He stumbled, catching himself on one of the iron bars that stretched from floor to ceiling. A sea of dead eyes stared back at him. Slaves. Victims of his pride.
His nose crinkled. The stench of unwashed bodies and despair lacked the punch of the sewers, but it cut deeper to his soul.
A child caught his gaze. The kid, no more than five or six—wait, no, sharp ears—broke into tears.
Another shove. “Keep moving.”
Ted pushed on, trying not to look at the faces pressed against the bars. Hollow-eyed, desperate faces, staring at him, their hope burned away to ash.
Alenia walked stiffly alongside him, her gaze fixed ahead, her hands trembling slightly. Yet she did nothing about it.
Commotion erupted ahead. Guards dragging a bloodied man, kicking and screaming. The collar around the man’s neck lay dormant. Dead.
A lump formed in Ted’s throat. One of the many slaves he’d saved.
“Enjoying playing the Hero?” Alenia whispered. “He'll hang at dawn.”
Ted's chest caved in. Staring at the truth, the reality of his petulant failure, it was impossible to deny.
The guards shoved, punched, kicked the slave until he collapsed, then threw him into a cell. A separate one, filled with other bruised and battered slaves.
A final stop before the gallows.
Ted's fists curled up. They were paying the price for his pride. Just like Orlanda. Like Cara.
Like this entire world would.
Alenia leaned in. “The old Eric—before—he never would have allowed this.”
He glanced at her. What was her game? “Then help me.”
“I cannot betray the Emperor. I must keep him safe. If he dies, he resets completely. His buffs, his bargains with Death, his levels—all of it gets wiped clean.” She pulled away, settling back into cold composure, and gestured to the guards.
They shoved Ted forward. He went, conserving his strength. If what she said was true, then there was a chance.
A chance to save him.
A chance to save the world.
The guards opened an empty cell and hurled him in. His knees hit the bare dirt and the bars clanged shut.
What did it matter? He stared out at the souls he’d condemned to suffer. At the victims of his pride.
And for what? Principles no one else gave a damn about?
Time stretched by, unmarked by anything but screams and sobs and the sight of more battered rescued slaves being penned in for their final night.
He closed his eyes, but the sounds remained. The smell endured. The sights burned in his mind.
Ted?
His heart skipped a beat. The connection was weak, so faint he could barely hold on to it, but it was there. It was hers.
We’re coming.