Questions and celebrations would have to be postponed however. Thirty men surrounded him. Two of which had properly enchanted armor. One of them rode their horse right next to him and leveled a fiery red sword at his neck.

“Who are you? What happen here?”

Dalric didn’t have the energy for this conversation, but as the broken body of the previous man to ask that laid only a couple meters away he didn’t really have the room to avoid it either.

“I’m..I’m… my name is… Dalric.” He didn’t know what else to say and the more he thought the greater his head ached. Complex thought eluded him and exhaustion permeated from every atom in his being as he tried to cobble some words together, “I’m a… traveler. Looking for..looking… looki…”

The last sentence went unfinished. His body gave out before he could complete it, crashing weakly onto the ground.

Shi…

With no energy left in the tank, he couldn’t fight it. His consciousness faded.

…

..

.

Good, remove them.

I refused to move. I knew it futile, they’d all die in mere moments, but I refused to allow it be through my own willing obedience.

Suruhlla didn’t waste any time taking over my body. He must have known I wouldn’t comply. I’d never comply with the slaughter of innocents. Never.

With Suruhlla in control, I was at least saved from experiencing the massacre that was to come. His usurpation left me deaf, blind, without a sense of touch, without a sense of smell, with a sense of taste, and most importantly without ahjer sense. In this little void I was relegated to, I sensed nothing. Here, it was peaceful.

I’d have to emerge to the aftermath eventually, the Gods couldn’t control my body for more than a bell a day, but for now I existed blissfully ignorant of all.

At the appointed time, my senses snapped back into place. Laying before me was exactly what I expected, a levelled city. Home of maybe ninety thousand, now rendered to ash and pebbles. Suruhlla made it a point to leave me right at the center of the destruction, as they all did. As ‘good’ as they claimed to be to the ignorant, they had a sick taste for torment.

Laekna, now aware I was back to my senses, did her best to block the sight. It wouldn’t really help, the faces of horror I spotted were already seared into my mind. The charred skin, the melted flesh, all gruesome but none more so than expressions of agony and despair. I appreciated her attempt, but it would do nothing to hide what had occurred. Plus, the fact she was here, in front of me, instead of flying around trying to heal anyone she could meant Suruhlla had been thorough. Not a soul here was left anything less than completely eradicated.

My nails dug into my palm.

For what? Because they wished to live free from the Gods’ control? Because they realized they do nothing but rob and kill? That they are repulsive, abhorrent parasites existing only to drain those unfortunate enough to worship them?

The Gods, in their infinite gluttony, refused to allow any live peacefully away from their rule. These people died for realizing that. Their bodies torn, home destroyed, and history erased. Some of their blood still stained my arms.

Laekna tapped my hand. When I didn’t respond, she forced her way into my grip. Only then did I realize that the blood wasn’t just dripping off of me, it was boiling. I looked up to the sky and sighed at the pitch black thunder clouds that gathered above me.

I was losing control.

“I’m… sorry.” I didn’t know who I was apologizing to, Laekna or the people of Narik, but it was all I could do.

“It’s okay Light.”

“... Fae?”

Her voice was off. It sounded like Laekna, but it also didn’t. Something was different, foreign.

“Everything will be okay Light. Just be you and everything’ll work out.”

“Just be me? Everything work out? What are you talki—”

The world shook, ferociously. The earth warped and the sky distorted. My senses went haywire along with them. I could smell that the sky was no longer blue, but now yellow. I could taste the ground contorting to send me flying through that yellow sky. I could hear the heat of six suns burning my skin.

“What is this?!” I yelled.

Laekna was calm as can be, “Just be yourself, Light.”

The suns immediately engulfed me.

.

..

…

Dalric stirred awake. His eyes erratically darted to the sides.

What was that?

He quickly noticed that while he had eery dreams, he’d also been taken prisoner. Each of his limbs had an enchanted chain clasped around it. They left his neck, but that was likely because the gambeson covered almost all of it. There were signs that they tried to remove the gambeson, the rest of the armour too, but they were quite unsuccessful. His wings were gone, likely defusing under the stress of whatever they did, but that was the extent. It was moderately surprising that they couldn’t do more damage to his spell, but that just meant they didn’t have any powerful ahjerists.

Or do they think these chains can actually restrain me?

The cell he sat in was empty. They didn’t even have the decency to chain him to some furniture so he laid sprawled on the barren floor. Beyond the bars that surrounded him, nothing else featured within the room either. The bars were enchanted of course, as was the door that led into the spacious room, but there was a notable lack of anything else. They didn’t even have a familiar or viewing apparatus to watch over him. It was just him, enchanted metal, and the compacted earth that surrounded both.

After quickly analyzing his situation and confirming he wasn’t in immediate, or likely any, danger, Dalric’s thoughts went back to the dream he just had.

What was that? A memory? That was definitely the city of Narik. That’s not how it happened though…

Narik was an independent city-state. They had discovered the truth behind ‘ascension’ and rightfully cast away all allegiance to the Gods. A wise choice… if they had the strength to back it up. In fairness, that was early into Dalric’s time as a contracted slave. They couldn’t have known the full ramifications of their actions.

But, while the basic framework of the dream aligned with his memory many details did not.

I met Laekna centuries after. Suruhlla was a minor God, he had little authority then. I had yet to master Thunderfield. And the people of Narik weren’t human. They weren’t even valinoid. They had neither arms nor legs.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Dreams often told fantastical tales though. So inaccuracy should be expected in that regard, but the experience felt like no dream Dalric’s ever had.

“Everything will be okay Light. Just be you and everything’ll work out.”

Why would she say that? Why did her voice sound so different? Why did.. Could I have been poisoned? Was it a fever dream, a vivid hallucination?

Dalric quickly scanned his body, but he didn’t find any signs of poisoning. He lacked quite a bit of energy however. The side effects of constantly exhausting himself without eating or drinking anything in… a while. Hard to tell time in a cell underground, but he’d wager almost a full day had passed since he first woke up. Maybe two or three bell off.

Would that cause fever-like dreams?

Dalric had never needed daily food and drink. Giants could go substantially longer without both than humans could. Though that didn’t stop them from eating daily, so Dalric had never been in the position where a lack of either hampered his functionality. He couldn’t be sure the ‘dream’ wasn’t just a side effect of that.

But what if it isn’t just a dream? Communication? Vision? Dreams are usually outside the scope of ahjer, but it’s not impossible…. Maybe this is a side effect of fighting off the Gods?

He had no clue what the ramifications of that would be. The contract was almost certainly still in place, but if he could just tell them no… what then? Would the contract break? Dalric had never considered what it would be like to be free of their control and alive, but he could feel the waves of hope slowly encroaching on his heart. He calmed them though, it was far too early for that kind of optimism. They could very well just summon more power and try again at a later date. He only won because they were distracted the first time. Next time, and he had to assume there will be a next time, he’d lose if they aren’t. What can he do about that?

As these thoughts rumbled through his head, he heard a number of clinks and clanks coming from the door. When they stopped, and it opened, a dark face popped in.

“Ah!”

The face quickly retreated, forgetting to re-lock the door. It ultimately wouldn’t mean much as moments later two tanned, robed men walked in.

The first was tall, by human standards. Standing somewhere between six feet and six and a half feet, he was the burlier of the two. Fairly wide at the chest, a thick neck, and arms that pressed tightly against the thin cloth of his sleeves, he perfectly played the part of a brute. For the most part, the clean grooming of his beard and long hair threw the impression for somewhat of a loop. He definitely had the face of a brute otherwise, tough and scarred. The demeanor as well, he stood arms crossed with a sword on each hip.

He had a lighter complexion, unexpected for a jungle this hot. Usually, natives of these types of regions had darker skin. Did that speak to him being a foreigner or something else?

The other man did have the expected darker skin, but he was far more average; in height, appearance, and presence. His ahjer however, was actually superior. Not greatly, but noticeably so. He had a short buzz cut and no facial hair or markings to speak of, but he did wear the same blood red robe that the other wore. It helped hardened his rather soft appearance.

He was the first to speak, “Mr. Dalric, you’re awake.”

Hellgurian again. Though... a different dialect?

Dalric rolled his shoulder, “I am indeed. Clasped in chains was not the most pleasant way to wake up I must admit.”

They both raised an eyebrow and the average one feigned a chuckle, “Your speech is quite refined Mr. Dalric.”

As long as you understand me.

“You’ll have to forgive us. We had prepared a much nicer room, but as we tried to remove that uncomfortable armor of yours, your wings seemed to magically vanish. You must understand our concern when a human impersonates an angel.”

How do these guys know about angels’ existence, but not know what they actually look like? Is there some sort of offshoot, human-hybrid cousin that lives… wherever this is. Huh. Still don’t even know where I am.

“Well, gentleman, that would be a simple misunderstanding. I never claimed to be anything other than a human, I merely learned to form wings to aid in my travels.”

They were obviously lying about their initial efforts. His wings weren’t as durable as the armor itself, but it’d take a serious beating before dispelling. A little jostling would do nothing to them.

“Learned to form wings you say.” They glanced at each other, “And where did you learn that?”

Dalric smirked, “From a valinn.”

The average one looked up to the brute, but he only shook his head in response.

“And what is a valinn?”

Huh?

“You don’t know what a valinn is?”

“We do not.”

Dalric blinked.

Impossible... Am I actually on a different world?

“What do you call a being with two arms, two legs, and one head?”

They paused for a moment, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be the ones asking questions.”

Do they just not know?

He walked closer, almost brushed up against the enchanted bars, “Where are you from, Dalric?”

Do I want to keep up this charade? If they’re unwilling to answer my questions, there’s no value. I doubt any answers I give could lead me peacefully out of these chains. I desperately need information though… let’s see where this leads first.

“Aonica, though I imagine you don’t know where that is.”

“You’ve travelled across the seas then. How did you end up here?“

So definitely not Hellguria. Across the sea… hm. The continents are too large for that assumption. Is this actually an island, or are you just playing the wise man? Or am I wrongfully assuming I’m still on Frysta?

“Is it not the goal of a traveller to see the world?”

“The Akai Ken Jungle is a dangerous place for outsiders, as I believe you found out this morning.”

Never heard of that. Though it sounds… Surunese. They’re an island people.

“In truth, I’m more alarmed by my treatment right now, than I was this morning.” Dalric dangled the chains around his wrists.

He smiled, “We did find you next to four of our men’s corpses. Care to explain that?”

Odd reaction. Hmm. Now how do I do this…

“I must apologize for your loss, but I’m not sure what happened. One moment I’m flying up the river, the next I’m in a pool of my own blood and sweat.”

The brute’s eyes turned visibly colder.

“We could hear their screams from behind the wall.”

So they didn’t see anything.

“That is lamentable, I imagine anything that could get the better of me would likely be too much for the average… soldier? I don’t know what either of you are.”

That put smiles on both of their faces, “That will remain hidden.”

Not soldiers then. If these are the leaders, surely this isn’t a mercantile group… though who says these are the leaders?

“You say you were flying up the river, were you looking for us?”

“You specifically? No. I was looking for civilization and I spotted your camp and headed this way.”

“Yet no one saw you.”

Ahh. Hmm…

Dalric raised his hand to his forehead. The enchantments within the chains were attempting to interfere with his ahjer, but they were far from capable. He placed his index finger on his forehead and projected some of his ahjer.

Both of the men flinched, the brute swiftly laid his hand on his scabbard. For Dalric, nothing changed, but for everyone else he’d appear completely invisible. The spell was the simplest in the stealth sphere, it didn’t affect any of the other senses. The big one was ahjer sense, but he could be easily heard too.

“As you said, it’s a dangerous place out there.” He released the spell, becoming visible again, “I took certain precautions.”

“Very interesting. You have my interest Dalric.”

“Now if only I could have your hospitality.”

He smirked, “Maybe. We still don’t trust you.” They both moved towards the door, “But. I’ll have someone bring you a fresh meal.”

“That would be nice.”

They chuckled as they left. The door slammed shut and Dalric once again heard the clicks and the clacks.

That was informative. A little.

He effortlessly broke out of the chains and cracked his neck. His entire body still felt sore, but it shouldn’t affect him too much. The bars that made up his cage were much stronger than the chains that held him, but empowering his arms a little made them as malleable as thin gold. Their enchantments tried siphoning the ahjer out of his hands, but they didn’t have enough suction. He pulled them apart with ease.

Only the door remained, but before he opened it he wanted to know what exactly awaited him. He expanded his ahjer sense to its current maximum range. That range equated to a perfect sphere with a hundred-meter radius. He couldn’t actually ‘see’ everything within that range, at his current level even the most lightly enchanted door would block his ahjer sense. Plus, past ten meters things got progressively blurrier, the fringes were only ‘visible’ by the most liberal of definitions. None of that mattered though, he saw what he needed to see.

It was worse than anything he had expected.

Rage oozed out from him. His ahjer flared. Lighting zapped around his fingers. First, it was bright and slightly blue in color, but it quickly changed. In the next moment, it crackled across both of his arms in a dark shade of purple. It still wasn’t complete, it continued spreading across Dalric’s whole body. By the time it was done, there was no ‘light’ in the lighting. It was pure black.

He raised his hand to the door and the entire wall exploded. Some parts flew off in chunks, but most of it was immediately destroyed.

When he stepped into the hallway, the brute stood ready. His swords already drawn.

Dalric looked at him with disgust, “Slave traders is it?”