A warm and dry wind swirled around Frank, gently pulling the moisture out of his rippling clothes. And the drier they got, the more they flapped around, with his unbuttoned shirt collar being the most annoying. He lifted his hand and pressed both edges against his skin, stopping the pieces of fabric from flapping around and tickling him.
Thankfully, the entire drying process barely took a minute. It was… incredible. Wondrous. Frank has had some experience with magic already, between the cards, the missiles, and the potions appearing out of thin air. But this? This was an entire order of magnitude more impressive. And terrifying.
He firmly believed that those magics could be used offensively, and he didn't dare imagine the kind of damage they could cause.
His mind reeled at the possibilities that this world was promising. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let his mind explore those musings now that he blurted out his question about initiation quests and how common they were.
Khaa had been staring at him for the last handful of seconds. “You have gotten an Initiation Quest,” she said after a small nod. It wasn’t a question.
It had been a risky move, but he needed information. He needed to contextualize what he was involved in, and he didn’t feel comfortable revealing such details to Tasos. He assumed a random cleaner wouldn’t care as much, but apparently that was not the case.
He glanced behind him and found the lieutenant leaning on a pillar a dozen feet away.
Frank needed to know more about this mayor he was being taken to. Unfortunately, he kept being distracted by the Canidah. Which was what Khaa was.
It was all… fascinating.
Focus.
“I’m being escorted to the mayor. Have you met the mayor?” Frank asked, changing the subject. Her reaction could be informative.
Her eyes flicked to the lieutenant before she trained them back on him and she shook her head. “I have not,” she said. Then, with a lower, rumbling growl, she added. “And I would rather not.”
Shit.
Frank looked away from Beastfolk’s blue eyes, and tried to keep an eye on the lieutenant. He could swear they had been glowing when she had been using her magic…but back then, he had been too focused on watching the actual magic itself.
So many interesting things to learn. And important people to find.
His family. Jane. Where would they be? Were they even around? He shook his head.
Don’t give yourself too much hope.
Once he is done with Tasos and this mayor, he’ll get right on to finding out who else had been brought back. He wasn’t in the forest anymore. But his situation wasn’t entirely secure just yet. Whatever Tasos’ goal and this mayor were, it smelled like politics.
And he didn’t feel like dealing with politics. Should he try to make a run for it?
Noticing the expression of concern that he must have shown, she whispered. “Do not acc–”
“Are you done?”
Tasos was standing right next to them, lips pursed as he openly glared at Khaa, who stared back, completely unaffected by the tone or the hostile air the man was giving off.
Though, to be fair, Frank wasn’t used to communicating with Beastfolk. Maybe her lack of reaction was an expression of anger.
Without the lieutenant watching both of them, Frank said his goodbyes, and was promptly escorted away. Soon enough, Frank found himself looking back at the Khaa’s store, then glanced sideways at the lieutenant.
He really didn’t want to see this mayor.
What had Khaa tried to say before she was interrupted? Was it a warning?
He eyed the leather armor of the man. The silver bracelet on his arm.
Frank was beginning to have some ideas of what the metal meant. If Khaa’s earrings had been her Deck, and they had been gold, and considering the magic she had displayed, then silver might fall somewhere between Frank’s bronze–or whatever alloy it was–and Khaa’s gold.
And considering the ease of which Khaa had been summoning and controlling hundreds of pounds of water, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be getting away from her or from Tasos.
Plus, he wasn’t the only one who had cards. That bracelet on the lieutenant’s forearms meant he had cards as well.
And I bet as a guard he’d have something to stop runners.
Frank inhaled deep. He was making a big deal out of this. Not everyone was out to get him. He would meet this mayor, hear whatever they had to say, then move on with his day.
The sounds of metal hitting metal pulled at his attention, and Frank looked around. A few feet away, a middle-aged man was sitting on the ground, hunched over a square piece of white stone. No, that’s marble. A small hammer hit the chisel he held against the smoothed surface of the tile, and a chunk of powdered rock flew out.
All around, more craftsmen were working with marble. Some were engraving symbols, just like the one Frank had seen first, while others worked on bigger blocks, shaping them, or carving them.
As far as he could see, no one seemed to be using magic.
His mind kept drifting back to the abilities Khaa had displayed, and he considered what else she could do. If she had been fighting those Wild Climbers? She could have easily drowned them. Or dropped a metric cube of water on them from up high. Could she breathe in water? That would open even more options.
And the ability she used to dry his clothes? The dehydrating wind? What could that do to a person? And how was she preventing her magic from affecting his skin? She must have been able to choose her target. He was sure that the wind had reached his skin at some point, but it only felt like a warm summer breeze.
I need to find out about the limits of magic in this world.
The surprisingly long stretch of marble craftsmen was now far behind. The homes got bigger. The walls higher. And after taking a turn that led up the hill, Frank finally saw what he assumed to be the mayor’s mansion.
The late morning sun shone behind it, and Frank would have appreciated the scenery if it wasn’t for the numerous guards that patrolled around the property. That, along with the high walls surrounding the mansion made Frank’s stomach churn.
I’d rather not go in there.
Frank slowed, panting. It was tiring, but he wasn’t really that tired. Though he found it easy to exaggerate his exhaustion. “Is that the mayor’s home?”
Tasos slowly turned, eyebrows up. He nodded. “We’re almost there. I’m sure they’ll give you the chance to rest up.”
Frank pulled at his clothes and collar. “You know, I already feel sweaty. I’d rather be a bit more presentable before meeting someone as important. Now that I know where it is, I’ll make sure to come back in a few hours. I’m sure the mayor won’t mind.”
A shrug was his response, along with a neutral expression. “You’re here now. And you can go wherever you want once your business here is done. Plus, I have to make sure you get in there safely. It’s my job. After that, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
They stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds, and Frank felt the walls close in on him.
“I’d rather come back later.”
“I’d rather you go in right now,” Tasos answered, a mild smile on his lips as he fully turned to face Frank.
Frank had a feeling that if he as much as thought of taking a step back, he would be caught. “Am I being detained here, guardsman?”
The lieutenant didn’t respond. He stared past him for a moment, then looked back at Frank. He raised his left arm and with his right, he pointed at his silver bracelet.
“Do you know what this is? It’s a Deck. It’s what allows me–and you–to use cards and to access the Great Automaton’s interface. Do you know why mine and yours are different?”
“Silver is a higher rank?” That had been Frank’s assumption from earlier.
Tasos tilted his head and nodded. “Sure. But that’s not what I meant. Take a look at your Deck. Tell me what’s different.”
Frank really didn’t like where this conversation was going. Wherever that was.
“Go on.”
He glanced down, unrolled his sleeves. Other than the material itself, Frank’s was larger. And it had more engravings on it.
“More engravings? Larger?”
Tasos nodded. “It’s a blessing. A privilege granted by the Automaton for the simple fact that you happened to be chosen to be part of the Trials. It’s powerful magic that can–and will–save your life. Whether you deserve it or not.
“Mine?” Tasos looked down at his bracelet, and his lips tightened and made his smile seem more like a grimace than anything else. He dropped his hand to the side. “Mine has none of that. Not even nobles can afford Decks like the one you have. That is a treasure in and of itself.”
Then the lieutenant’s smile dropped. Frank saw the man’s hand move, and a fraction of a second later, he felt his whole body be wrenched forward by his collar. The guard leaned closer. “Here’s a first lesson for you, Champion. On the house. You might be chosen. You might have been important for some reason or another in your past life. But in this world, when a superior–me, or in this case, the mayor–invites you to his home, you go. Being lucky enough to be selected for the Celestial Trials doesn’t mean you stand above protocol. You’re not above good manners. The sooner you get that through your skull, the better. Because you might be protected now. But everyone you insult? They will remember it. And when the Trials end, they will come collecting.”
He released his grip on Frank’s shirt and shoved, and Frank felt himself fall down on his ass.
“Now. Get up.”
Frank wiped the shock out of his face and grit his teeth as he slowly got up. He dusted his pants off as his mind went into overdrive.
He pulled me as if I weighed nothing.
What could he do? He couldn’t talk his way out of this. Try to bribe him?
From the corner of his eyes, he saw the guards of the mansion coming toward them.
Too late for bribing. And he doubted it would even work.
Tasos was smiling at him darkly, and Frank forced a smile back.
He hated this.
“I’ll make sure to remember that. The advice, I mean.”
The guard’s nostrils twitched, and Frank’s smile was now more genuine. He was protected, apparently. And even though he didn’t plan on going around insulting people and testing their patience, he could afford to speak his mind to the likes of Tasos. But he couldn’t calm down the churning and twisting he felt in his guts. This mayor… he obviously wants something. Maybe Frank could come to an agreement with him?
Darn it. Maybe he should have waited for night time. Or found a river to wash-up or something.
If he hadn’t been covered in blood, he wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this.
----------------------------------------
Lumovik stared down at the thin pile of magically enforced contracts he’d secured so far, then at the case containing the last haul from the source of all of his pains. The shell-case taunted him, peering at him from under the announcement letter.
Now, his dealings might come to light, and no number of sponsorship contracts will be enough to shield him from the backlash. Certainly not the measly number in front of him.
Why did it have to be here?
It has been now a month since the announcement, and that was nowhere near enough time for him to finish up what he had started.
Now eyes from all over the Realm were on him. And as if he wasn’t screwed enough, he had gotten a second letter within the same hour. Like a second slap to the face, while he was still reeling from the first.
It sat to the right of the first one, the morning light reflecting off the broken golden wax seal. The flame-like pattern was immediately recognizable, of course. And no less than a Master Courier had brought the damn thing.
The entire budget of Tinecea wouldn’t be enough to pay the service fees of such a courier, while the highest office in the country didn’t think twice about using them. Even his lord father would wince at such an expense, and he was supposed to be part of one of the most affluent noble houses in the country.
Lumovik shook his head. No wonder I ended up dealing with that creature.
He sat back down on his padded chair, eyes on the contracts. He was supposed to get a bonus for each of them, and so far, five Champions had signed for the Theocracy. Under the name of his House of course.
They were mostly crafters, which was good, as those brought in the most revenue. But they won’t be enough.
No, he needed warriors to get through the storm. Champions that would go far in the Trials, and of those, he had signed none. He had signed a warrior, yes, but he doubted that one’s chances of making it past the first Trial. A couple more warriors were tucked away in the guest suit, having arrived earlier today and he’ll need to quickly convince those.
Before they figured things out.
But those two weren’t his main focus. No, the one that might actually help him get through the mess he found himself into was still recuperating.
If he got her to sign, then he might end up with only a slap on the wrist. A particularly painful one, but probably no more than that. His House–and even the office of the First Priest would look away if he gave them a star Champion, and she?
She was already a celebrity.
She was one of them. The lucky–or more accurately, unlucky–Seedworlders who get immediately tested. And considering the state she arrived in at the gates, and the bill he had to foot to the Healer’s Guild, he was willing to bet she had gotten a good start. A Gold-pack was guaranteed and his [Appraisal] already confirmed she was above Level 6. Which was… incredible.
But she hasn’t woken up yet.
He paced in front of the window overlooking the city. Signing her up would net him the biggest bonus. And she might be a key to his… current predicament. The Trials–fountain of opportunities and riches as they were–unfortunately brought along the spotlights that might expose his connection to the recent disappearances. And that was nothing compared to him dealing with an Elf from beyond.
He picked up a contract and held it up to the sunlight. Worthless, he thought, before throwing it back on the pile. He turned and stood in front of his windows, hands behind his back as looked down at the city.
If things get too out of hand, then no one will pay attention to a few missing people.
And if worse comes to worst, then maybe I’ll leave with her. With it.
He shuddered at that. Leaving the Great Realm of Theos? And face the things beyond?
He shook his head. I might as well give myself up.
The sound of steps coming up the hallway broke him out of his thoughts and he sighed. Then he felt something through [Sense Intent] and straightened up. Excitement. From his majordomo, quickly followed by a memo from the latter, received through his interface.
That system-spell is worth its weight in…gold…
He took a deep breath and smiled. He was due for some good news. Especially after having received the request of that damn creature.
----------------------------------------
“Frank, is it? Welcome. Call me Lumovik.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Frank stepped through into the mayor’s office, moving past the still bowing majordomo, and smiled back at the impeccably dressed man. Sharp blue eyes took him, as the mayor briskly stepped around his desk and came to greet him.
The man wore something similar to a simple black three-piece suit, which felt odd considering the number of robes, capes, and armors Frank had seen since entering the city. It hadn’t been his most pressing concern, but he was glad to know that there were some excellent tailors around.
“I heard you’ve had a rough day,” said the man as he shook Frank’s hand before gesturing to two padded chairs that faced each other. “Please tell me about it. I will do my utmost to ensure you are rewarded for the service you’ve done to our city.”
Frank found himself whisked away to a chair, and a sense of relief washed over him when he finally sat down.
“But first, what would you like to drink? Something hot? Cold?” Then he leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. “Or something strong? If I had to deal with Wild Climbers on my first day, I'd already be passed out with a cup in my hand. I’ll tell you that much.”
He laughed, and Frank found himself laughing as well. The relief of finally being seated and appreciated felt like a buzz in and by itself, especially after the unpleasantness of the day’s beginnings. And of Tasos.
Those events already felt far behind him.
“Yes, please. A drink would be nice. It’s been a while since I’ve had any.”
Lumovik’s brows shot up for a moment, then he snapped his fingers. “Of course! I assume you’ve grown quite old before you were brought here, right? I’ve heard about that. Without magic and without healers, the elderly have to be very careful in some Seedworlds. Which one are you from?”
Frank felt a twinge of reserve for a moment, but it was quickly swept away. Why would he hide such details? The man has been nothing but pleasant since he’d met him. And Frank was in a new world. He needed all the help he could get. “I honestly don’t know. We called it Earth, back when I was there. Does it have the same name here?”
The mayor nodded as he took the cup from the tray the majordomo was holding after having served Frank. “Ah yes, I’m familiar. The only Seedworld us Humans don’t have to share with anyone. It’s good to see that you didn't destroy it with those bombs. What were they called again? The ones that poison the earth all around them?”
Frank winced. “Nuclear bombs. And yeah. That’s where I’m from.” After a moment, he asked. “There are other worlds with Humans?”
Lumovik laughed and nodded. “There are. One of them is so dangerous for us that apparently we began living underground. Can you believe that? The poor souls are terrified when they wake up and realize there’s sky above them,” he said, leaning back and sipping from his drink. He shook his head. “When we heard about those bombs, and about what you guys were up to in there, we almost wrote the entire world off. I’m glad people are still coming from there. It is pretty impressive, though. To create something that destructive without magic.”
Frank glanced down at his drink. “Yeah, we got pretty close a couple of times.”
The mayor put his cup down on the table that separated them and slapped his knees. “Well, that’s all in the past. Now, as mayor, I’d like to thank you for the service you’ve done for me today. There hasn’t been a quest created for it, but if you just tell me how many of the damn beasts you killed, I will trust you and pay you accordingly,” he said as he got up and marched toward his desk. “I got the official guild’s rates somewhere around here… Please, go on.”
“Let me see,” Frank said, trying to remember how many he had gotten. It was around ten, right? Plus that large one.
Maybe that would reveal too much.
Frank paused. His own thought felt distant, somehow. Odd. He glanced down at his drink and tilted his head. I don’t feel drunk.
He shook his head. The mayor was being friendly and trying to reward him.
But I got a lot of achievements out of it. Maybe that’ll make me stand out too much.
Before he could reach a decision, Frank felt the words slip out of his mouth. “I killed ten. And one that was twice as big as the rest.”
Frank’s brow furrowed, and he glanced down at his drink. A shiver went down his spine.
Something was off.
“You killed an alpha? On your first day?!” The mayor clapped, eyes wide. “Well, this will hurt my budget, but bravery and triumph must be rewarded.”
His eyes became unfocused for a couple of seconds, then he winked back to Frank. “Here. And you must tell me about it.”
Confirm Transaction:
Mayor of Tinecea: Reward for services rendered: 3 gold
Accept | Refuse
Frank accepted it and leaned back. Hadn’t he been worried about something a moment ago? He drank deeply from his cup. Red wine–which he hadn’t expected, but still enjoyed.
Well, if something bugged him and he couldn’t remember it, then it couldn’t be that important. He sank into his chair, enjoying the moment, and recounted his morning to the captivated mayor.
An odd feeling filled his chest, a sense of happiness and contentment that he’d used to get when he was sharing a drink with his friends after a long and especially annoying week.
That feeling of “sure, the week has been awful. And next week will be awful. But tonight… Tonight's going to be great.”
The mayor clapped once after Frank had finished his retelling and raised his cup. “Now, that is how you start a new life.” Both drank from their freshly refilled cups–a something twinged in the back of Frank’s mind, but the mayor’s next question silenced it.
“Tell me, how about I look into a sponsorship for you?”
Frank glanced up, which Lumovik took as a clue to continue.
“A sponsorship would give you an edge many Seedworlders like yourself don’t have. Strong cards of your choosing. Financial support. Backing. Even noble titles are a possibility.”
Frank blinked. Then he blinked again a few times as he tried–and struggled–to formulate a response to what Lumovik had just said. He felt thankful… but he shouldn’t. Why would he feel thankful? The mayor had an offer, and usually such offers went both ways. But his attention was too focused on the support and advantages he would receive, and when he tried to consider his obligations, his thoughts grew lethargic.
He finally managed to find the words he wanted to say. “That must come with some obligations?”
Why was he having such a hard time thinking? Frank frowned, feeling a cold sensation in his stomach. He didn’t feel drunk at all. Was this exhaustion? Or–
“Of course there are. But,” and at that, the critical part of Frank’s mind focused on the man’s word… away from something else he should be focusing on? Whatever it was, it kept slipping away from him, as if he was trying to memorize a dream after he had woken up.
“But,” said Lumovik again, “that is because the sponsors–in this case, my family and the nation of Pyr–invest significantly in their Champions, and not all Champions get far. If a Champion is disqualified early, we need a way to earn back some of the resources we invested in them. But the further a Champion gets in the Trials, the lighter those obligations will be. And someone who earned a gold pack on their first day will get far,” finished the mayor with a wink.
Frank’s eyes opened wide, and the mayor clapped once and laughed. “I knew it.”
Frank heard the sound of his own laughter as something kept buzzing louder and louder in his mind.
Something’s off.
I have to get out of here.
“You did get an Initiation Quest, then?”
What is happening? It’s not the drink. It’s not me. My vision is clear. My balance is fine. What is it?
“Frank?”
Frank looked up when he heard his name, and he felt the urge to answer the man. To relax and enjoy himself. And then it clicked that maybe… maybe those urges weren’t his own.
And as if that had been the catalyst, he heard it. Or felt it. He wasn’t sure how to word it, but it felt like strings in his mind, gently pulling on his thoughts and mood, guiding them wherever the mayor wanted. Away from his usual–and definitely healthy–skepticism. Away from problematic questions. Toward a space where he would be unguarded. And chatty.
Frank felt the pull once more, and he reacted both mentally and physically so intensely that he shot up from his chair. A blinding headache slammed into his mind and he almost fell down to his knees. He felt something vibrate in his whole being before the pressure finally broke, and the strings faded away into nothing.
His mind cleared.
And as a confirmation that he hadn’t been imagining things, he saw the notification come in. He opened it.
Lumovik responded with a rueful smile at Frank’s stare and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an incredibly charismatic person.”
----------------------------------------
Lumovik felt the Champion shake himself out of [Charming Presence]’s grip—which he wouldn't have used if Frank hadn’t been so guarded–and he couldn’t help but smile at the intents swirling in Frank's little mind. Still he was surprised by how quick the Champion broke out of it. Lumovik only used a sliver of mana in it, but considering the rank disparity, it should have taken him a while longer to shake off the influence. Maybe the man in front of him had more of a disciplined mind?
You couldn’t tell from the current turmoil, though.
Escape. Confrontation. Self-doubt.
The Champion was really overestimating what [Charming Presence] could do. And Lumovik would have let him stew in those concerns if fear was a viable option here. His father was many things–and he didn’t like to think of him much, but Lumovik had to admit, his strategies were efficient.
But no. Fear would take too long. And obviously he can’t make a Champion sign a sponsorship contract under direct threats.
Though it was impressive how fast Frank’s mind was adapting. Panic had been quickly pushed to the background and at a certain point, Lumovik couldn’t help the smile that drew itself on his lips. He wasn’t a warrior by any means, but he still felt a bit insulted at the spark of hope that mixed with the combative intent coming off Frank.
He should put a stop to things before they escalate too far.
“The card is called [Charming Presence]. It only nudges your mind away from certain subjects or toward others. I can’t control anyone with it. So your mind is safe. And I will not attack you, so please, settle down.”
Frank kept glaring back. “You played with my head.”
Lumovik sighed and shook his head. He gestured with his arm at Frank.
“This. This is why I had to use it. To get through all of this suspicion and paranoia.” Lumovik stood up and saw the Champion tense up. He felt the wariness, and readiness to go on the offensive.
Lumovik scoffed. “Again, I will not attack you. And you really are overreacting. You will encounter charming abilities in many, and I repeat, many other situations, so you can’t be getting offended every time you have to deal with it. You can’t be thinking of attacking a merchant just because you didn’t account for charming abilities before sitting at the negotiation table.”
And at that he felt the Champion finally start to relax.
“All it does is make you more… impressionable. Maybe change your priorities a bit. But that’s it. It’s only a nudge. And what I have been mentioning before you broke out of the charm is still on the table. Sponsorship. Cards. An advantage that countless Champions will be benefiting from.”
Frank raised his brows at that. “What makes you think I’ll trust anything you offer?” He stood up. “No thanks. I’m sure there will be other recruiters that won’t try to dull my mind to get their point across. And I’d like to leave, please.”
Lumovik sipped from his cup and resisted the urge to say something he’d regret. Maybe using the ability had been a bigger faux pas than he expected. But still.
“Do not spit in the face of my hospitality, Frank, or I will have to become unpleasant.”
And with that, he let some of his aura slip through. His mana gushed out, infusing the surrounding air with his Intent.
Frank's breath locked up in his chest, and his knees shook. He couldn’t even inhale, and it was worth every drop of mana to see the look of terror and realization in the Champion’s eyes.
He was a tiny fish. And he was swimming in a larger and deeper pond than he could ever imagine.
And with his message received, Lumovik released the Champion.
I really need to work on my mana reserves. That almost drained me.
Lumovik put down a copy of the contract—he had requested some extra copies that same morning from his personal scribe—then pushed it forward. “Read it. And socialize with the other Champions. We’ll talk again when you cool down,” he said without looking at the Champion while typing a message to Ronald. A moment later, the latter opened the door.
He felt the headache settling in from exercising his will in such a raw and undirected fashion, but it was worth it. A powerful impression might scare the Champion’s hand into signing.
Which would be the Champion’s mistake.
After all, if a Champion signs under the assumption that they are at risk–even though that is absolutely not the case–then Lumovik could and would profit from their ignorance.
----------------------------------------
Cold sweat was still dripping down Frank’s back when the servant opened the door that two armored figures were guarding. The majordomo watched him step through in silence, then the door clicked behind him.
Frank put his back to the door, then slowly slid down until he was seated. What had happened? It felt like some sort of giant fist had grabbed his whole existence by the throat. His muscles stopped responding. Even his consciousness had started to fade at one point, and could only latch on to it by the edge of his fingertips.
And right before that, the man had messed with his mind.
Frank cupped his face.
So. Aside from monstrous beasts, superhuman guards, and all sorts of magics Frank still knew nothing about, he could now add mind magic to the ever-growing list of dangers he will have to–
“He’s just sitting there.”
Frank looked up.
A young girl peeking through the leftmost doorway of the lobby he found himself in. When their eyes met, she darted back into whatever room that was.
Frank took a deep breath, then rubbed his eyes for a second.
Alright.
He stood up and pushed his worries and fatigue aside. First priority: get out of this place. And find a safe spot. Second priority–
Another face was staring at him, halfway down from where the girl had peeked. A wide face, pink skin and somewhat human-like face. But the more he looked at it, the less human it looked.
Floppy ears hung down from the top of their head, with a simple cap covering tufts of light hair. Or fur? Then there was a snout. A pink snout.
It was a Pig-person. A Beastfolk.
Frank wasn’t sure why he was surprised. This wasn’t the first Beastfolk he’d seen since… only this morning. Frank blinked.
It hasn’t even been six hours since this day started.
He shook his head. These might be the first Champions he met since he learned of the Trials. And as he met the Beastfolk’s eyes, he realized something.
Was it a child? Most others he had seen were closer to a human-size. This one was really short.
Frank watched the Champion in question slowly lean away from the doorway for a few moments before they stepped through the door with a hard click on the marble floor–and Frank’s eyes were immediately drawn to the peg-leg that peeked out of the Kothite’s trousers, but he didn’t stare. Behind the Beastfolk, five more people appeared and stepped toward him.
----------------------------------------
“Are you a noble?”
That was the first thing that the Beastfolk–whose name was Wilbur–had said when Frank had shown them his bracelet and proved that he was a Champion as well. He crossed his arms and glared up at him, waiting for his answer, and Frank couldn’t help the chuckle. “No. I’m definitely not.”
In response, Wilbur narrowed his eyes slightly for just a moment, head tilting from side to side as if that would allow him to see through any subterfuge Frank might conjure, and then–the Beastfolk grinned at him as he uncrossed his arms. The suspicion evaporated so fast Frank was taken aback, and he knew it wasn’t an act.
He’s just a kid, he thought to himself before the Suinah–which was what his species was called–nodded and proclaimed that he should then break out with them.
To his statement, groans filled the hall almost unanimously, while the girl chewed on her nails, glancing between the Beastfolk and Frank. Salem, a somewhat tall and lanky young man in white robes, was the first to answer.
“For the love of the gods. We can’t. There are guards all around the property and half of them are Silver-ranked. What do you expect us to do? Fight our way out? We’re not even fighters! I’m a cook. What do you want me to do? Throw pies at them?”
Wilbur turned to face the chef–his peg-leg slipping for a moment against the smooth floor–then squared his shoulders and puffed up his chest. “I am a warrior.”
He had his hands on his hips, and Frank noticed they were very human-like hands.
Salem frowned at the short Beastfolk and was about to say something, then stopped. Frank saw him glance at the missing leg, then look up as he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah. Alright.”
Wilbur nodded. “We can get past them. I’m sure.”
At that, the Minotaur–the only other Beastfolk other than Wilbur–glanced down from the dagger he’d been sharpening and snorted derisively, but said nothing. He had come out along with the others, but he had yet to introduce himself. Or even speak, really.
He was massive. Towering above everyone present by at least a couple of feet, if not three. He wore a thick set of leather armor and two blacksmithing hammers hung from his belt. Holding away the whetstone he had been using, he examined the edge for a moment before he retrieved a comically small bottle that he slowly tilted until a single drop of oil fell on the blade. He then pulled a cloth and deliberately worked the oil along the edge of the blade.
Frank assumed he was some sort of smith. Or were battle-smiths a thing? Either way, blacksmithing would explain the singed-off fur. His hands were smooth all the way up to his elbow, and a short and rust-red layer of fur covered the rest of him
Wilbur slowly turned to face the Minotaur, shoulders hunched. “What’s so funny?”
The growl was unexpected. And Frank had thought the tightened shoulders were maybe anxiety or nervousness, but he was wrong. The Pigling stared up at the Minotaur who raised an eyebrow.
“You are too young and… small to be a warrior.”
At least he didn’t say anything about the kid’s disability.
The Suinah had no intent of backing-off though, and Frank noticed wisps of clay-brown smoke beginning to appear and fade around the short Champion. “I am a warrior. Are you?”
The Minotaur snorted again, his lips stretched into a smile as he leaned forward. “All Minotaurs are born warriors, little one. Can you say the same?”
The air rippled around Wilbur, the wisps more and more visible and Frank, eyes wide, took a step back–
“We should wait for her to wake up,” said Hel’va, shyly stepping between the two and cutting the confrontation short. She was the one who had noticed him first when he had stepped into these chambers. Human as well, as far as he could tell. She took a step back. “If we’re going to leave, she’ll want to come along. And she’s probably a fighter as well.”
The group got quiet for a moment. The Minotaur sheathed his dagger back in its holster, and Wilbur stubbornly kept glaring at the large Beastfolk.
Peter–a man Frank suspected to be from his own world from the way he was staring at Frank’s clothing–spoke up. “Maybe we should just sign. The terms aren’t bad… if we get past the third trial.”
“I’d rather die than sign my triumphs to a kingdom of Humans.”
The Minotaur said it without looking up from his current task–which happened to be polishing one of his hammers–but the air immediately tensed. Even Wilbur’s anger seemed shaken as he blinked and looked around, clearly disturbed.
The last person, a slightly older man who hadn’t spoken so far, spat at the foot of the Minotaur. “We don’t want your savage kind–”
The Minotaur took a single step toward the snarling man, hand gripped around his hammer, and the man’s voice cut off. “Say that again,” the Minotaur rumbled. His demeanor changed–and it wasn’t anything like the small confrontation that had taken place between him and Wilbur only moments ago. He stood lower, knees slightly bent as if ready to charge. His nostrils were flaring, and Frank could swear even his eyes seemed redder around the edge.
Frank turned to the man who spoke to signal him to shut up–because he really believed things were about to get very violent.
The man opened his mouth once more, closed it, grit his teeth, then turned and walked away. Peter followed him, fearfully looking back at the Minotaur, and Frank caught him glancing toward him once before he went into another room.
At that, the Minotaur slowly stood back up, then turned his attention back to his hammer. He pulled another small bottle and worked on giving the handle of his hammer a new shine. And every few moments, a quick snort would escape from him. As if he was slowly expelling the pressure that had built up from the man’s words.
Alright then. This wasn’t completely unfamiliar. There’s some tension between Beastfolk and Humans. I’m going to need some context on that.
For now, though, there were more pressing things to consider. He turned to Wilbur. “Are there other exits beside this door?”
The cook’s mouth dropped before he whisper-shouted. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Frank shrugged and smiled. “Not if we play our cards right. And I heard that the bracelet would protect us from death. Unless…I was lied to?”
The cook–Salem–groaned at that, but Hel’va was the first to answer. “They would. But we’d also be disqualified if that enchantment was triggered… unless we really weren’t at fault.”
Peter hadn’t come back, so that left Wilbur, the Minotaur, Hel’va, and Salem.
He glanced at the lanky young man, a bit surprised he had stayed after his last comment, and found he wasn’t the only one looking at him. Even the Minotaur looked up from his task.
Salem raised his hands defensively. “What? If you guys are leaving, then I’ll tag along. I’m not staying here. And I will absolutely not represent the spineless despots of the Theocracy of Pyr. Wait until the rest of the Realm hears about this bullshit,” he added, gesturing around. He shook his head in disapproval. Then he glanced back at Frank. “So. How are we doing this?”