Mason only had a moment to react. He materialized at least thirty feet in the air with Ayet in his arms, and dropped. She shrieked. He swore.

He knew he'd be perfectly fine, of course, though an animal, instinctual fear still shot through him. Ayet, on the other hand…

He reached for the closest rafter but missed, the beam a good foot too far away to reach. Then they were dropping in open air and he couldn't think of a God damn thing he could do about it. He was about to smash his future bride's mother into the training floor hall.

Blue light flashed and sort of pulled Ayet away from Mason's hands. He hit the ground hard and not particularly well, all his attention on trying to help Ayet land mostly on him and then hopefully roll. He hit feet first, at least, falling backwards and mostly slamming his ass into the ground before rolling to his back.

Ayet land on top of him, and just...stopped. She was surrounded in a blue shield, staring at him with no less terror in her eyes. But she seemed perfectly fine.

Mason groaned and put his head back.

"Ya'll OK?"

Becky's tone was not thrilled.

"Y-yes. I'm..." Ayet stood and looked at herself with wonder. "I'm fine. Thank you…how did you do that, Mason? Was that you? Who saved me?"

"That was me. But don't mention it." Becky glared at Mason with a lot more hostility than he'd have preferred.

"I'm OK, too, thanks," he said from the ground.

"Ain’t nobody asked you."

Becky turned for the door as Mason jumped to his feet.

"It was implied!" he called after her. "You said ‘ya'll’, which is plural. And I assume you'll eventually tell me what I did to piss you off."

"You'll figure it out!" Becky slammed the training hall door, leaving Mason to let out a deep sigh and glance at the several other (all male) players. They were all standing around smirking at him.

"Oh fuck off. Like you don't have woman problems."

He noticed Tommaso and Garet and stuck out a hand with two fingers in their direction.

"Welcome home, Patron," Phuong said as he approached, wiping a little sweat from his brow and wearing a much friendlier smile. "I'm afraid news of your...imminent wedding has become public knowledge. Miss Rebecca hasn't handled the news particularly well." Here the older man glanced at Ayet and bowed. "And who might this be?"

Mason winced.

"Ayet. The bride's mother."

Phuong blinked as his eyes widened.

"That's...hard to believe. Forgive me, I'm not used to how long the beauty of elven women lasts." Phuong seemed to realize what he'd said and actually blushed. "Er, that is, I mean to say..."

Ayet laughed, apparently recovered from the terror of the fall.

"Thank you for the compliment. I think. But I..." she glanced around at the many staring human men and seemed not to like the attention. She covered her face slightly with her scarf. "I would like to see my daughter now."

"Right." Mason tried not to imagine Streak suffering somewhere, keeping his eye now almost constantly on the wolf's profile to make sure he was alive. "I'll take you. Then I need help finding my friend. I don't even know..." he shook his head. "I'm babbling. Let's go."

It seemed everyone around him sensed the mood change, and the smiles dropped. He led Ayet out of the training hall, then realized half way that all the players had just silently followed in his wake.

They didn't know what was going on, obviously, but their presence was a clear show of...support. Like whatever he needed, they were ready. It felt good, even if the situation wasn't.

Mason knocked on the guest house he assumed Naya still shared with Dariya (and probably others), and the door soon opened to reveal one of many upsettingly attractive young elven women whose name Mason didn't know.

"My lord...welcome." The elf bowed and diverted her gaze, but her eyes soon shot back up as she noticed Ayet. "My lady! How..." the girl's eyes gained a little moisture, and the former councilwoman smiled and touched her temple.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"You look healthy, Laila. The air here must be doing you good. I'm very pleased to see you alive."

"Thank you, my lady." The girl looked between Mason and Ayet with a little panic and turned away, calling for Naya. Laila seemed to realize she hadn't invited them in and panicked as she gestured.

"I can't stay," Mason said, afraid to get sucked into social niceties he didn't have the patience for on a good day. "I've lost my..."

"Mason!" Naya came running from across the room, enough of her face uncovered to show a radiant smile. "The others said you'd succeeded at some grand thing, and that you'd be coming. I was so worried, though they all said I shouldn't. It's just there's nothing for me to do, and..."

Naya froze when her mother stepped into the house. She covered her mouth with a hand, and she looked between them like it might be a trick.

"Mother?"

"Hello, child." Ayet took a deep breath as she inspected her daughter. Then her head tilted, and she clearly fought trembling lips as she eventually held out her arms. Naya ran to her, and the women embraced.

Soon enough there were other elven women sprouting from the woodwork, and probably other houses, and pretty soon Mason (with a handful of players awkwardly behind him), were all standing around watching a bunch of almost other-worldly beautiful women with long ears and silk clothes hug and weep.

"Is it bad I'm turned on?" whispered Tommaso.

Mason turned with a slow, cautionary stare. Garet punched the man in the shoulder.

"Ow! Your mother. OK, OK. Still. I can't be the only one."

"Some of us don't always say every word we think," Phuong hissed, and the Italian put up his hands.

"I don't have time for this." Mason sighed, running a hand through his now short hair. He considered just slipping away, but with so many players following him there was no chance of being subtle. After some quiet words between Naya and her mother, his bride-to-be eventually let go and came to Mason.

"I have so many questions, and so much to tell you..." she stopped and looked into his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I lost Streak," he said, fighting the emotion at the words. "I don't know where he is, or even how to find him. So I need..." he shrugged. "I need everyone. Ideas. I don't know yet."

Naya nodded, her face transforming to something closer to the one he'd seen when they first met—the warrior princess struggling for her people's lives. She turned and called a few names, and some of the women bowed and approached.

"Our lord has lost his animal companion. Mason, this is Kitya, she is a Beast Trainer. Or...she was, in Sharisse."

The tall, dark skinned elf nodded, looking at Mason with an almost cautious expression.

"Lord...your animal...is he...bound to you? Through…natural magic?"

"No, he's..." Mason shrugged, hating this God damn game and all its rules and terms and fantasy nonsense. But for Streak he had to pay attention. How exactly was Streak 'bound' to him? It was through his Ranger class, wasn't it?

It took him a minute to remember Cerebus and the challenge in some goblin dungeon—vanishing through a ‘totem’ to fight for Streak. He’d gained an ‘Essence of the Wolf’, and the ability to bond animals.

“I bond animals through animal essences,” he explained to the elf. “I have a wolf essence, though I think it just makes it easier to bond with wolves.” He put hand through his hair in frustration. “Hell I don’t even know if it’s a druid thing or a ranger thing or a nature affinity thing.”

Mason realized the elf didn’t speak ‘system’ and that he probably made no sense. She’d have different words full of cultural yoohoo, but he didn’t know how else to say it. Kitya frowned, obviously a bit confused. She looked at Naya as if for approval, and his bride-to-be nodded.

"Have you tried…just summoning him to you, my lord?"

"No. I can't...I mean, I have no idea how to do that, or what you're talking about," Mason fought down the anger at his own ignorance. Kitya shifted her weight and held out a hand. She whispered something inaudible, and a...squirrel, materialized out of thin air. Right into the palm of her hand.

"This is Hasufel." Kitya smiled. "I found him playing in the trees and bound him to me because I liked his spirit. As a ranger or druid, your powers with your bound creatures should far surpass mine. You should be able to call him from anywhere on the material plane. If he's on it."

"I don't know how," Mason said. "Can you teach me?"

Kitya blinked. "Of course, lord." She stepped forward and put a hand on Mason's temple, then closed her eyes. Her fingers glowed with a pale white light, and for a moment Mason didn't feel anything or sense any kind of effect. Then his beast profile flashed, and he watched words forming under Streak's power list.

[Hidden class power discovered: Call Beast. Summon any bound animal to your side. Only one animal may currently be actively bound.]

[Hidden class power discovered: Dismiss Beast. Return your bound animal to its chosen lair.]

Mason stared, then his head buzzed like he’d come from a rock concert. A dull pain surged through him, but on the Mason scale of suffering it was about a two.

He was filled with questions about the powers and how the hell Kitya had just given them to him, and what else she could do. But all that could wait. He clicked Call Beast without hesitation, not really expecting much.

The power flashed.

It worked. Or at least it did something. Mason realized Streak might still be in 'the fey', and that the power may not actually...

Hunger struck Mason like a punch in the gut. Followed quickly by boredom, loneliness, confusion, and the image of a rocky plain without anything interesting to eat, or really smell, unless maybe he just crossed that rise over there and took a good long look for...

Streak howled into existence in the middle of the room.

Elves panicked and fled in every direction as Mason dropped to a knee. The wolf turned and leapt straight at him, ramming his nose into Mason's face and jumping up into his arms with a happy growl.

"Oh you big, weird smelling bastard." Mason gripped the wolf and started scratching, relief flooding through him. He got a brief series of mental images telling him what he'd missed: mostly boring wandering, and a swim in the most stagnant looking pool he'd ever seen.

"That explains the smell," he muttered. "Wait why would you even...nevermind. It's just good to see you, buddy."

The wolf had shockingly little interest in learning what had happened. His memory of their time apart popped like a bubble, and he stuck out his tongue and panted with basically nothing in his mind besides hunger.

"Yes, Streak," Mason said, smiling at Naya and some of the elves and players, giving Kitya's hand a squeeze in thanks. "Now we can go eat."