Approaching the ship’s entrance, a swirl of emotions tugged at me. Disappointment gnawed at my heart. Elyria wasn’t there to see me off, nor was Khorak. Deep down, I hadn’t held much hope for Khorak’s presence, but I had genuinely expected Elyria. The realization that our relationship might have been nothing more than transactional stung more than I cared to admit.
As I closed the distance to the ship, I turned to where the Iron Princess stood waiting, her posture rigid with anticipation. “Thanks for agreeing to send me home,” I managed to say, my voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and resignation.
“If I’m being sincere, I had other expectations for your boon selection,” she responded, her tone laced with a hint of disappointment. “I thought I had made myself clear through my hints and body language, but you are human. You could be forgiven for missing our subtleties. I would offer you a chance to reconsider, knowing that you walk to your death with this choice. But I can’t delay, what a waste, the favor you owe me might as well be worthless.”
Her words, sharp and honest, cut deeper than expected. “The ship will take you to Earth. It won’t be a quick journey. You’ll be alone, and by the time you arrive, it might already be too late. Good luck, Drifter.” With those final, somber words, she turned and began to walk away, her frustration palpable.
Left with the remaining guard, I shrugged off his unimpressed grunt and nodded towards the ship. “Okay, bye everyone,” I muttered to myself, my tone tinged with disbelief. “This is so bizarre and surreal.”
Stepping onto the ramp, the ship’s condition hit me anew—a stark reminder of the daunting journey ahead. It might have looked somewhat noble from a distance, but up close, it was clearly a battered relic of past glories. Rust spots marred its surface, hinges creaked with age, and a couple of obviously non-functional guns hung limply from their mounts. It was a poignant echo of a once-glorious past, now just a shadow of its former self.
Just as I was about to step inside, a shrill tune from a flute halted me. I turned to see Elyria rushing toward me, flute in one hand and a massive piece of luggage in the other, with two Necrose hauling even more behind her. Relief flooded through me at the sight of her.
I walked down the ramp to meet her, taking her bag. “You were going to leave me? Without even a dramatic farewell? How rude!” she accused, her voice a mix of jest and reproach
“Where have you been? You didn’t come to my ceremony,” I replied, my relief mixing with frustration.
“I wasn’t allowed. Orcs only. I think the princess might be secretly jealous of me. Can’t have me stealing the spotlight.”
“Sure she is.” I replied with as much sarcasm as I could muster. “You came to see me off then?” I asked, glancing at the luggage. A question appeared in my mind.
Her expression faltered slightly, "No, I’m coming with you. Can’t let you have all the fun and glory and I need to hear Earth music, and maybe Earth snacks!" She looked at me excitedly, her expression turning hurt when I didn't immediately respond. I was simply floored. More relief flooded me, I wouldn’t be alone. Finally.
After a brief pause, I dropped her bag and embraced her tightly. I don’t know how long I held her honestly but it must have been an uncomfortably long time, for the Iron Princess had come back and she coughed. Elyria broke the awkward silence. "So, you’ll have me then? I knew you wouldn’t get rid of me so easily," she asked, a lightness touching her voice as we separated.
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I laughed, the absurdity and the joy of the moment mingling. "Of course, but I don’t understand why you’d want to come."
She paused, her expression serious as if weighing her next words. Finally, with a decisive nod, she said, "How could I miss the chance to write this song? Besides, every epic needs a charming bard, right?"
The atmosphere, just barely lightened by the revelation of Elyria’s decision to join me, shifted abruptly as the Iron Princess returned, her footsteps echoing sternly against the metallic floor. Her expression was taut, signaling she wasn't here to share in our reunion. "The moment you leave this airspace, you will lose any progress you have made towards your evolved class since you are breaking your contract," she declared, her voice cutting through the warmth like a cold blade.
Elyria, still close from our embrace, replied without hesitation, "I don't mind. The chance to come with Everett on this journey is too important to pass up. I'll find another way to achieve my evolution."
The Iron Princess scoffed, her disdain palpable in the chilly air of the hangar. "Then you won't mind paying the fee for breaking your contract," she retorted with a biting sharpness.
Elyria, taken aback, stammered, "What fee?"
"You a contractor for the Iron Hegemony. Since you will not be serving as a vendor and mentor, you are required to pay an early termination fee," the Iron Princess explained, her tone as formal as it was cold. She then inquired pointedly, "How many essences do you have?"
"You know I don’t have any. That’s why my contract was so lengthy," Elyria responded, her voice a mix of indignation and worry.
The Iron Princess’s lips curved into a sly, almost predatory smile. "Well, we can work something out. I'm not heartless, after all. You can leave, but it will cost you—everything you have here, except the clothes on your back and I guess you can choose an instrument. I guess you want to keep your flute."
The audacity of the demand struck us both like a physical blow. Elyria’s face paled, her eyes darting to me then back to the Iron Princess, a silent plea for reason in an unreasonable situation. I stepped forward, my own frustration boiling over. "Isn’t her coming with me enough of a sacrifice? She’s giving up everything already!"
The Iron Princess turned her piercing gaze on me, her voice cool and unyielding. "She’s breaking a binding agreement. These are the terms of her release. Take it, or leave Elyria to fulfill her obligations here under the terms we set forth initially."
Elyria grabbed my hand, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity, her decision made. "It’s okay, Everett. I don’t need anything but this opportunity. Let’s just go, but I want to keep my guitar instead of my flute. I just pulled the flute out because it would be loud."
I looked into her eyes, seeing the resolve there, and knew this was her choice—a sacrifice for a chance at something greater, a new life with unknown horizons. We turned back to the Iron Princess, nodding our acceptance of her harsh terms.
"Very well," the Iron Princess said, a hint of surprise flickering across her features at our quick concession. She gestured and two of her aides appeared from somewhere to begin collecting Elyria’s things. Gone were her gear, her potions, any weapons, everything.
As the aides retreated, the Iron Princess gave us a curt nod. "Everything is settled then. Good luck, Elyria. Good luck, Drifter. You’ll need it," she said, her voice softening just a fraction as she turned to leave.
Elyria and I stood together, watching her leave, feeling the weight of what had just transpired. Yet, there was a certain lightness too—the freedom of having nothing left to lose but so much to gain.
"Let’s go write your song," Elyria whispered, her smile brave and hopeful.