Chapter 83: Promise Made, Promise Kept

If there was one thing in this world that couldn’t be denied—one singular fact of existence so constant and unchangeable it may as well have been written into the laws of physics itself, it was this: Zachys Calador loved Fylwen Vayra, and he would do anything, no matter the cost, to protect her. He would scale any mountain, fight any boss, or sacrifice any possession. There was nothing off limits when it came to his one true love: his Elvish queen.

Now, in fairness, there were those out there who would react with surprise or confusion if they learned of this. But really, there was nothing surprising about it. After all, Fylwen Vayra was—and always had been—everything to Zach. In fact, truth be told, Zach hadn’t even known it was possible to love someone this much until he’d met the Elvish queen. He’d die for her—again—if she asked him to do so, and he wouldn’t even think twice about it.

She’s just so perfect, Zach thought. I’d follow her anywhere.

More and more, he was beginning to wonder how he’d lived his whole life until now without her, and it was a question that he continuously turned over in his head as he ran after her through the grasslands at his full speed. Not wanting to be left behind, he reached out for her, extending his hand longingly ahead of him into the empty air while embers continued to shoot forth from his open palm—a burning sign of the true, unbreakable love he had for the Goddess known as Fylwen Vayra.

Together, the two of them tore their way across the rolling hills, heading northeast of the raid camp as opposed to the the northwest, which was where the dragon was currently asleep and would remain so for around twenty-four hours. “Wait for me!” he shouted as she began to pull farther ahead of him despite him dashing along at nearly two-hundred miles per hour.

Having added a ton of speed to his base stat on his last level up, the combination of his gear, Unleashed Phase, and raw stats meant that he now currently had 117 points into speed. This enabled him to go so absurdly fast that the world was blazing by him as though it were a video being fast-forwarded. Yet, for some reason, his balance was perfect despite passing the usual threshold where he would normally become unsteady; he had absolutely no problem running as fast as his feet would carry him—just so long as it was to follow her. Not only that, but he also wasn’t chopping up the ground beneath him and causing a storm of dirt and rocks to be blasted off in his wake. Somehow, he was running like she did: silently, deftly, and without disturbing so much as a single blade of grass in his path.

Fearful he might lose sight of her, Zach strained himself trying to move just a little bit faster, and now, he was beginning to sweat heavily. Boy, the queen sure knew how to run quickly. Not a surprise, though: after all, she was strong, and powerful, and amazing. Gods, she was just the absolute greatest. But the best part of it all was that she intended to spend some time alone with him, and it was for this reason that Fylwen was leading Zach quite a few miles away from the raid camp, where onlookers would not be able to spy or interfere with his undying love for this beautiful, kind, and perfect woman. She was flawless in every conceivable way. He wanted to hold her forever.

“How much longer until that ability of yours wears off, young man?” she asked, calling back to him.

“Two minutes and twenty-seven seconds, Your Majesty!” he replied to her, raising his voice so that he could be heard.

She actually spoke to me! he thought. I’m the luckiest guy alive! The Elvish queen spoke to me!

Zach became giddy as he continued to charge ahead with Fylwen, the two of them getting farther and farther away from the camp, until finally, with a glance over her shoulder at him, she came to a smooth, gliding stop. Then she held out her palm and said, “Very well. This appears to be far enough.” And with that, he came to a halt behind her.

Gods, just look at her lips. I love her so fucking much. I want to kiss her. I want to hold her in my arms and never let go!

As Zach met her eyes, and his heart pounded furiously in his chest, he realized that it wasn’t even just that he’d willingly die for Queen Vayra: no, he wanted to die for Queen Vayra, because in doing so, it would prove once and for all that he truly did love her—that he truly did care for her. It would prove that he truly did want to spend the rest of his…

Huh?

Wait, was that even true? Did he really love this woman? Did he really want to die for her?

Why…why would I want to do that?

Hold on, wait a minute. Something wasn’t right here. Seriously, wait a minute, okay? Just…just time out for a Gods-damned second. What in the absolute fuck was going on right now? What manner of hideous, revolting thing had he just been thinking? And why was he even here with her at all? What could possibly inspire him to come out here alone with her?

Something’s wrong. This isn’t right. She…she did something. She did something to me!

“Where am I?” he shouted, confused. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “How did I get here?” Then, fully realizing his situation, he glared at her. “What did you do!” He pointed at her threateningly as she sighed and took a step closer to him. In response, he fearfully took one back. “What did you do to me, Gods damn you! Tell me!”

“I used a charm on you.”

“A…a charm?”

Zach struggled to understand what had taken place: how he had ended up here in the middle of nowhere when, only a few seconds ago—or what felt like a few seconds, at least—he’d been back in the raid camp, not far from the central command tent that he’d fallen into. Trying to recall events, he attempted to piece it all back together in his mind. He distinctly remembered exiting the tent. He distinctly remembered Fylwen asking to speak with him. Reluctantly, he’d agreed, if for no other reason than morbid curiosity. Yet, with an ominous look in her eyes, she’d claimed she had something very important to tell him in confidence, and she’d asked if they could walk together to the opposite end of the camp where fewer people might overhear. He’d obliged, but once again, he’d done so reluctantly.

His guard having been up, he’d followed her to a relatively—but not completely—isolated spot behind one of the larger tents. Though unseen, there were numerous people within earshot, and given his recent…uh, “exploits,” every eye had gazed upon him as he walked by. Thus, he did not think she would be able to succeed if she actually tried anything, and he certainly wasn’t dumb enough to go with her anywhere she could pull some underhanded shit and get away with it. If he raised his voice or made a loud sound, people would come running: or so he’d thought, anyway.

But as it turned out, he had, indeed, been dumb enough to fall for her underhanded shit, as the mistaken assumption of safety had led him to walk right into another of her traps, hadn’t he? Yes. He had. He remembered now. Upon arriving there with the Elvish queen, she’d…she’d done something strange. What had it been? Things were still fuzzy in his head, but it was starting to come back to him.

I remember now, I think.

Even though he’d had his guard up and fully expected some kind of treachery, she’d nevertheless still gotten him totally by surprise. Right there in the raid camp, with so many adventurers all over the place, and so many people nearby that Zach could have called to for help, she’d still somehow managed to hijack his entire body. And now, he remembered how she did it, too.

Her face having become flushed with worry, she’d leaned in closer as though what she had to say was something very, very serious and important. Then, slowly, she’d opened her mouth as though to begin speaking it, which in turn caused him to angle himself forward in her direction. But rather than words, what emerged from her lips was something else entirely. Without warning, she’d begun firing off small, coin-sized floating hearts at him. For real! Literal, actual, floating red hearts that looked like cartoons in real life. Merely by blowing a kiss in the air, these floating hearts had crossed the small distance between the two of them and had hit Zach right in the forehead. And that had been the last thing he could remember until just now.

“You…you tricked me,” he said. Then he snarled at her. “Not that I’d ever trust you in the first place. But damn, I really didn’t see that one coming. Gods damn it!”

Trying his best to keep his cool, he drew his sword and held it out defensively. Despite how brave he had become, there was still a place in his heart dedicated just to feeling an intense fear of this woman. Potential death by the Ziragoth adds hadn’t scared him. But Fylwen? Oh, she terrified him like few other things in this world.

“I apologize for my duplicitous methods, young man,” she said to him, “but I knew there would be no way you’d willingly accompany me alone out here.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t,” he said, still glaring at her.

Taking another step towards him, he stumbled backwards with his sword held out in front of him, nearly tripping over a rock behind him in the process. “Get the fuck away from me!” he warned her. “You’re really going to kill me right here? Right now? Kal will never forgive you. And she’ll find out, too, I swear she’ll—”

“I am not here to harm you,” she said to him, frustration in her voice. “I assure you.”

Zach snorted. “Yeah, because I’m totally going to believe that shit again.”

“I…I don’t blame you for not trusting me,” she whispered. “But there are two reasons I brought you here, the first of which being far more important than the second.”

“W-what do you mean?” he asked, becoming curious.

Even while he humored her, he began searching his surroundings for somewhere he could run off to and escape—or better yet, somewhere he could hide. Because even in Phase Level 2, she was still far faster than him, and unless he found like a rock to hide behind or something—and one he could reach with Phase Blink—there was no way he would be able to escape her.

Shit, there’s really nothing out here, he thought, becoming panicked.

This area of the grasslands was the same as any other. For miles in every direction, it was just a nonstop pattern of rolling, grassy hills with the occasional large rock dotting the landscape. And aside from small mammalian animals, an abundance of stinging, flying insects, and a genuinely large variety of birds in the sky, there was no one around who could help him no matter how loudly he screamed. Even still, he would not stand by idly and wait for her to kill him. But if he was going to make a move, he had to do it soon. Cursing under his breath, he realized he had only slightly longer than a minute and a half left on his current duration of Unleashed Phase, and once that ran out, he was likely going to collapse and maybe even take a little snooze on the ground. He’d be totally, completely defenseless.

“Young man, I…I’m truly not going to harm you.”

“Bullshit!”

She stared at him a moment before bowing her head and sighing. Then, as though in an attempt to convince him of her intentions, Fylwen did something that surprised Zach. Rather than take another step towards him, she took one away from him in the opposite direction instead. And then she lowered herself down onto the ground. Now, seated on the short grass, she placed her hands, palm down, onto the soil to both her sides, and there she sat, as though waiting for him to say something.

Lowering his sword slightly—but not all the way—he asked, “What do you want? Assuming for a second you really didn’t bring me out here to kill me.”

“Like I told you,” Fylwen said, “I have brought you here for two reasons.”

“And what reasons would those be?”

Zach steeled himself in the event that she sprang up and leapt forward at him. He needed to keep himself focused and sharp: he needed to be ready to defend himself if she so much as flinched in his direction. For the moment, though, she seemed content to simply remain where she was, speaking calmly to him without making any threatening movements. But he knew he couldn’t trust things to stay this way. For all he knew, she could be about to unleash some kind of secret sitting-down ability that would make his eyes pop out of his sockets and his spine break in half. Gods only knew what powers she had at her disposal.

“The first reason,” she said to him, “is to keep a promise that I made to you: one that I had broken. And the second is to give you a gift.”

Zach pursed his lips. He wasn’t convinced. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I…with what I know you saw me do, does it? I know you were watching everything on the viewing screen. And I know that you found me threatening even before today. So that’s why I feel like there’s no way you could’ve seen me do what I did and not want to kill me.”

In a disturbing and admittedly unhealthy way, Zach was almost glad for this distraction here with Fylwen, because it gave him a reason to not think about what’d only just happened a few minutes prior. He knew that there’d be no going back from what he’d done. He knew that Mr. Oren, the GSG, Kalana, and tons of other people were going to want to talk to him and start asking him questions he didn’t have the answers to. He knew everything was going to be such a hassle going forward. At least, right here and now, that was all temporarily gone from his mind, and he could focus on something far more basic and primal, like survival.

Studying her expression carefully so as to potentially detect anything in her eyes that might indicate an imminent attack, Zach was once again surprised by the way she reacted to him. Following a short laugh, Fylwen actually smiled, and truly, it looked genuine and sincere: so much so that he was taken aback at how warm and motherly it came across. It was a side of her he couldn’t imagine existing at all—and one he refused to believe was real. Surely, it must have been fake, right? Nothing more than an attempt to manipulate him into lowering his guard.

“No, Zach,” she said, using his name. “I can understand why you’d think that, but no. I don’t want to hurt you: and I’ll never hurt you ever, ever, ever again.”

“I wish I could believe that,” he replied to her, twisting his lips sourly. “But after the shit I just did, I…I don’t even know if I could blame you anymore if you tried.”

She again laughed. “You know…I think I can see why she likes you so much.”

“Who?”

“My daughter.”

“Oh, right. Duh.” Zach looked around skeptically, his eyes searching for any floating hearts in the air. “Are you trying to charm me again?”

“Yes,” she replied. But then she quickly added, “Just not with magic this time.”

Unable to avoid appreciating her little quip, Zach released a small chuckle of his own by accident. Then, reflexively, he lowered his weapon just a tiny bit further. “So, what promise are you talking about?”

“Before I explain, may I please stand back to my feet without sending you into another bout of terror?”

“Pfft. I’m not afraid of you.”

“Of course not, young man.”

“I’m not,” he grumbled. “B-bitch.”

“I am a bitch,” she replied sadly, which had the effect somehow—and don’t ask him how—of actually making him feel guilty for saying it. Women and their Gods-damned mind tricks! He tried to remind himself that this was the woman who had killed him. She’d killed him! The only reason he was even here speaking to her right now was because of her uncanny resemblance to her daughter. It wasn’t just jarring how much like Kalana she looked: it was actually dangerous, because it required Zach to make changes to the way he thought and behaved in order to never fall for anything she said or did ever again.

But, at least for now, he was glad things were remaining civil. And so, seeking to steer the conversation in a less negative direction, if only for his own safety, Zach glanced down at his sword for a moment then turned his head to meet her eyes. “I know you’re the one who gave this to me,” he said.

At this, she raised her eyebrows. “How…how do you know that? And yet, you still wield it?”

“Kal told me,” Zach explained, and now she made an “ahh” sound as though the answer should have been obvious. “And yeah, of course I’m using it. I love it. And I know…I know it means a lot to you and your family, so…” Nervously, and with a sigh, he added, “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. It suits you very well: perhaps too well. You see, that sword I’ve given you is, in a manner of speaking, the reason why I’ve brought you out here.”

“Huh? How so?”

“Well, I suppose it’s far easier to explain my intentions to you now that you know I’m the one who gave you that weapon. Truly, this conversation would have been far more difficult to have while trying to shroud that little detail.”

Both intrigued and worried at the same time, Zach now lowered the weapon so that it was no longer ready to strike, yet he did not release his grip on it, refusing to trust her. “What’s the sword got to do with anything? Do you want it back?”

“No, not at all. It’s just that…well, much like you claimed, I was indeed watching you on the viewing screen in the command tent. I witnessed the entirety of your struggle against those vulgar creatures.”

“Okay, so?”

“And,” she continued, “I saw you using Phase Level 2 of your Unleashed Phase. I can only assume you used the sword’s weekly ability to aid you in dealing with the exertion cost, yes? As I recall, it cuts the cost of your next ability in half.”

Hearing her say the name of his abilities out loud was both jarring and yet oddly cathartic all at the same time. Given that she and just a handful of others knew the specific details of what his ability did and how it worked, it wasn’t something he could really talk about with many people. And while he planned to tell Kalana, he hadn’t had the time to do so yet.

“Is my assumption correct?” she asked him, clearly hoping for a response.

Zach briefly chewed the lower-left corner of his lip. Should he answer her question? At the moment, he was caught between not wanting to give her any information that could possibly harm him but also wanting to figure out what she’d brought him here for. He wasn’t sure what to do, though, because on the one hand, he didn’t see what possible danger could come of answering such a basic question. But on the other hand, the woman was crafty and there was no telling what she had up her sleeve—and what might aid her in springing yet another trap. Ultimately, though, Zach just couldn’t imagine that answering this particular question could give her any kind of power over him, so he decided to confirm her assumption.

“That’s right,” he said. “I used the sword. So?”

At this, she crossed her right arm over to her left side then placed her left elbow into the palm of her right hand while she rubbed her jaw with her thumb. It was a posture that suggested she was deep in thought—as though she had something she wanted to say to him but was not sure how to go about saying it. Of all things, she almost looked to be…considerate. But no, that was impossible from a woman like her. Almost without a doubt, Fylwen had at least some kind of ulterior motive here. Zach wouldn’t be surprised if, at some point between now and five minutes from now, he found himself in another galaxy fighting giant pinecones with blueberries for eyes or some shit.

“Okay,” she said after a brief pause. “Here’s the thing—do you understand what the difference is between a High and a Very High exertion cost? Or more to the point: did you make the assumption that half of a Very High cost was logically less than or equal to a High? Because one cannot fault you if you have done so. It can be quite misleading.”

As she spoke, a terrible, awful feeling of dread and horror erupted inside his chest, and it was one almost as bad as he’d felt when she’d betrayed him on Archian Prime. With each word, he felt a creeping fear beginning to overwhelm his senses.

“Why, is that…is that wrong?”

She nodded. “Yes. That would be incorrect.”

Holding his breath a moment, Zach released it then asked, “How so?”

“Well,” Fylwen began, her voice eerily compassionate. “A Very High exertion cost is dramatically higher than a High.”

“H-how dramatic?” he asked, stammering.

“Significantly.”

Zach felt himself becoming immediately unhinged, his heart speeding up in his chest. His throat dried, and his body began to tremble. What, exactly, was she implying? Was she saying that it was going to happen to him again? That awful, agonizing feeling that preceded death by exertion debt? Was that what she was telling him? No. That just wasn’t possible. He’d cut the debt in half. Surely, he had enough strength within to see himself through the other side of it. He must have!

“What…what are you trying to say?” he whispered, his knees suddenly feeling weak with fear and the memory of his death becoming fresh in his mind. Tears came unbidden, and his courage broke like a snapped twig. All of that fearlessness he’d displayed only a few minutes ago when he’d faced off against the level-90 adds summoned by Ziragoth—it was all gone in a heartbeat.

“What are you saying?” he shouted at her a second time. “Tell me!”

Fylwen licked her lips a moment. “A Very High exertion cost, even halved, is a fair bit above what you’re currently capable of handling. You cannot afford to pay that.”

“No,” Zach whispered. “I don’t believe you.” His knees becoming even weaker, he began stumbling several steps backwards, nearly falling over. He steadied himself, only to almost fall a second time. Fylwen began to move towards him, now with a bit of urgency in her step, but he continued to retreat.

“Please, no,” he said. She was trying to speak to him, but he was ignoring her. He couldn’t hear what she was saying amid the intense bout of disbelief that drowned out the world around him. He remembered what it felt like to die. There was nothing as bad as that. Nothing.

“Not again,” he begged. “Please. I can’t go through this again. I can’t. Just kill me first. Don’t make me feel it again. Please!” He began to shake, still ignoring Fylwen as she held out her hand for some reason as if to reassure him. Once again, he backed away from her, terrified, and once again, she pursued him. “Not again. Gods, please. It hurt so much to die. It hurt so much!”

He glanced down at the timer, and then he screamed at the top of his lungs for help, even knowing that no one out here would be able to hear him. How could this be happening to him again? How could the world be this cruel?

Unleashed Phase Duration

0:02 Remaining

The last two seconds of his life came and went. His hands ceased firing off embers, as did his feet. The ambient glow of power emanating from his skin dulled then vanished, and then, with every bit the ferocity that he remembered, the gripping, squeezing, and unbearable pain burst into his chest, along with an intense feeling of weight on his shoulders as though an elephant were sitting on his back: a heart attack, extreme exhaustion, and oxygen deprivation all rolled into one.

He tried to scream a second time, but now he could not call out or make any sounds at all. It really was happening to him again. The misery. The absolute misery. He couldn’t breathe. Not even the slightest bit of air could get into his lungs, which caused him to grasp at his own throat as his head became light and the pain in his chest amplified exponentially. It hurt. It hurt so bad! He needed oxygen. Gods, he needed oxygen! He could not draw a breath. He was dying! He felt his eyes go wide with fear, and then he fell backwards onto his back—or almost did. Someone caught him. He felt arms wrapping around him. Was it Kalana? Had she come for him again?

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Fylwen whispered.

Lifting his eyes to the top of his head, he could see her behind him in the corner of his vision. The sight of her only intensified his dread. He tried to get away from her, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even gasp. For some reason, she was cradling him like a child. She was again seated on the grass, and he’d collapsed in front of her. She lifted her hand and brought it near him, and weakly, he tried to swat it away. But his arms went dead, and both dropped to his side as more tears fell from his eyes.

Now, he felt her hand on his chest. Tightly. She was pressing against his heart with a great deal of pressure. Only a moment later, her hand began to glow a bright, brilliant green. Then, all at once, he suddenly found that he could inhale, and when he did, he sucked in lungful after lungful of oxygen, punctuating each draw of breath with a loud, gasping noise along with a whimper. His terror had reached its peak. He began to cough, choke, and cry as he sucked in more air. “I’m dying!” he shouted.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“No, not anymore,” she whispered, holding him in place. “You can breathe now, Zach.”

What was she talking about? Why was she lying to him? He could not breathe. She was killing him. Once again, he could not bring air into his oxygen-starved lungs. Whatever she’d just done, she’d undone it, because no matter how heavily he huffed, he only felt more and more lightheaded. “Can’t breathe!” he screamed, kicking his legs and trying to break free of her grip. “I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” Fylwen whispered into his ear. “Now, you’re having a panic attack. I’ve had many in my youth. It feels the same, but it’s not. You must learn the difference.”

She was lying to him.

“I’m dying. You’re wrong. I can’t breathe.”

His chest was aching once again, and he began to thrash wildly, but she was holding him tightly enough that he couldn’t escape. “I’ve healed you,” she said. “Be calm. Please. If you couldn’t breathe, you wouldn’t be able to keep speaking, now would you, young man? You’re hyperventilating yourself. That’s all that’s happening to you.”

“That’s…!”

He had to admit, she did have a point. With tears pouring out of his eyes, and his heart pounding in his chest, it took him nearly five full minutes of sitting there in the arms of his enemy until he finally decided to believe that he wasn’t dying of E-debt. Throughout it all, she stroked his hair and continued to whisper to him that he was fine. When at long last he became convinced he was not going to die, he began to whimper. He tried to stop himself, but he had lost control of his emotions. He hated that he was this weak. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just command himself not to be this way? To not feel fear: to not humiliate himself like this?

“If I had told you this was going to happen—or even if I hadn’t—and you had gone through this in front of the others, they would have witnessed you this way,” she said. “I thought you’d prefer to do this in private to spare yourself the indignity. That is why I brought you here. There is, regrettably, no way of healing you until after the start of the E-debt process. This is because the E-debt must be up for payment in order for me to pay it.”

“Pay…it?” he asked, so totally exhausted that he shamefully felt like he could fall asleep right there while she clung to him.

Fylwen did not answer him. He turned his eyes downward and observed that her arms, which were still wrapped around his body, had become sweaty, and craning his neck upwards, he saw that so too had her face. In fact, she was practically drenched with perspiration, and she was breathing heavily. She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again as if speaking was too much of a burden for her. But quickly, she began to settle, and then she released him, and together, the two of them rose back to their feet.

“This…this was what I should have done for you on Archian Prime,” she said. “I never intended to go back on my word. But I did. And instead of saving you, I ruined your life. I’ve given you a scar that will never heal. I am truly sorry. But, at least now, I was able to fulfill my promise to you: that if you entered into Phase Level 2, I would heal you.”

Zach, wiping his eyes, looked around nervously just to be absolutely, one-hundred-percent certain no one was around. “You’re not going to tell anyone I cried, right? Especially not Kal.”

She laughed. “Is that all you care about? Why do men and boys behave this way?”

He couldn’t believe what had just happened. The sheer shock of it momentarily rendered him speechless. Had Fylwen Vayra just gone out of her way to save his life? Why would she? It made no sense. She’d wanted him dead so badly, and now, for some reason, she’d decided to kidnap him for the purpose of saving him in a way that didn’t humiliate him around the other adventurers? Why would she do that?

Bringing himself under control, he wiped his eyes and continued to pull himself back together. “I don’t know why,” he said to her. “We’re just dumb like that, I guess. But it is what it is.” With a nervous laugh, he took a moment to just stand there and…and breathe, mostly to reassure himself that he still could. That had been a hell of an ordeal. Endorphins must’ve been flooding into his brain right now, because he became far more relaxed than he should have given whose company he was in.

After a few moments of silence, he asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with the political guilds right now?”

“Yes.”

“So what’re you—”

“But this is far more important,” she finished.

“It is?”

“Of course.” Then, with a laugh, she bent down, picked up his sword, which he hadn’t even realized he’d dropped, and she handed it to him. “You dropped this.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks,” he said, taking it from her. And this time, he did sheathe it in the scabbard on his back. “Why did you decide to save me this time around? I don’t understand.”

“For two reasons,” she said. “The first is that I truly am sorry. And the second is that I’ve come to realize that, in time, I think you will forgive me for what I have done, and although you are someone with a power unlike any this world has seen before, I do not believe it is the Elvish kind who will face your wrath.”

“My what?” he asked. “Huh?”

At this, she lowered her voice, and now she, too, looked around, which only heightened Zach’s curiosity while causing him to feel a bit of unease. “You will know what I know soon enough,” she whispered to him. “I’m sure of it. I just…I just know you will…Zach.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. Now, he too was speaking in a whisper, though he had no idea why either of them did so. There were entire miles between them and another sentient being.

“Please, listen to me,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. The fact that he allowed her to do so surprised even himself. “I don’t know if you will ever believe me, but if there is one truth I wish you to understand, then let it be this: what I did to you, I did not enjoy. You might think I did not care, but I burned inside for the way I hurt you. I acted foolishly out of fear, not malice.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So that you will understand the difference.”

“The difference?”

She nodded. “Between malice and mistake. There is no excusing what I’ve done. I understand this. Yet one day, you will understand who your true enemies are, Zach.”

“And who are they?”

She stared at him unblinkingly. “They are your fellow humans.”

Something about the hardness in her eyes, which had appeared so suddenly, caused him to feel like an insect trapped under a magnifying glass. “I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“I know you do not. As I’ve said, you won’t for some time. But you will. On this, I am certain. It is also why I no longer fear you. I reflected on my actions, and the more I thought on them, the worse I felt over what I’d done to you for how unnecessary it all was. That is why I say to you: in time, you’ll understand my kind means you no harm. Because not all humans are evil. Even I know this. Yet…”

She again looked around as though fearful that what she might be saying to him would be overheard. “Human ugliness. No one with your level of power and importance can go long without experiencing it. Almost as surely as the mother sun rises and falls, you will find yourself at war with one human guild or another. I need you to live, because there are two things I want from you, and I know that in time you will give them to me.”

Zach wasn’t sure what to make of what she was saying. “What do you want from me?” he asked, unsure of why he was even willing to entertain this nonsense, let alone actively engage with it. Yet, something about what she was saying, and the seriousness of her tone—it compelled him to hear her out.

“Only this,” she began. “Firstly: to love and protect my daughter with your life.”

“You don’t even have to ask for that,” Zach said. “I will.”

“And two,” she continued, “to kill as many humans as you desire. Millions if you please.”

At this, Zach pulled away from her and frowned. “The fuck? Why would you even say something like that?”

“Because it’s inevitable,” she said. “But please, listen to me, because for all that this may disturb you, I want you to know this: if you ever find yourself at war, I will be your ally. I will have my army be as your army, and I will soak in the blood of your enemies along with you.”

Her words came across as so deranged and implausible all at the same time that he wasn’t even sure he could form an emotional reaction to what she was saying. So instead, all he could do was release a laugh. “Are you saying you want to conquer humanity with me?”

“Not quite. I am saying that when you inevitably set out to do so, I want to be by your side.”

Even as ridiculous and, to be honest, strange, as all this was, he couldn’t help but find the idea so preposterous as to be amusing. For this reason, he became curious about her motives. And so, for no reason other than natural curiosity, he asked, “And why would you want to help me?”

“I’ll show you why,” she said. “It’s easier that way.”

And then, right there, in the middle of nowhere, with a final look around to ensure that no one was observing them, the mother of his girlfriend began to undo her fancy, elegant, white-and-green gown: and she did so in order to bare her chest at him. Zach, unable to believe that this was actually happening, released a sound not all that dissimilar from a squawk as he almost allowed himself to see what she was showing him; with less than a second to spare, he barely had enough time to hold out his hands—but from a distance, of course, so as not to accidentally touch her—and he turned his head away, half-closing his eyes in the process.

“W-what are you doing?” he shouted at her. “Are you fucking crazy? I’m your daughter’s boyfriend! Are you nuts? Put those things away, Miss Vayra. Err, Queen Vayra, sorry. But seriously, put them away. I mean, not that…not that I’m not sure they’re amazing and all, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure they’re great, but come on! You can’t just be taking out your—”

“They’re not amazing,” she said, interrupting him. “They’re not anything.”

“Hah?”

“You heard me.”

What in the fuck is she talking about?

So confused that it almost hurt, Zach turned his head ever so slightly in her direction, then risked just the tiniest, briefest peek. He loved Kalana way too much to risk seeing anything significant. But he also had no idea what she was trying to tell him. Yet, right away, even from the corner of his vision, he could see that something wasn’t right here. And this prompted him to lower his hands and once more take all of her in. When he did, he gasped and began to shake his head. The sight was so disturbing that he could not begin to understand it.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, an anger in his voice that he couldn’t control. “Who hurt you like this?”

“I did,” she said.

“You…did?”

Fylwen nodded. “I did this. When I was thirteen years old. I did it to myself using a rusted spoon that I’d sharpened on the metal headboard of my bed, because my kind weren’t allowed to be near knives. It was as painful as it sounds. I almost died from infection. I don’t even know why I was kept alive.”

Turning over her words in his head, Zach was almost thrown off his feet, as the combination of confusion and concern almost struck him like a physical blow. “But why?” Zach asked. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“I did this so that the thirty- and forty-year-old men who’d enslaved me would find me repulsive and finally choose my sister instead of me, and at last, I would be able to know a night’s sleep without...” Her voice broke, and unless she was the greatest actress to ever live, Zach did not think she was lying to him. For once, he believed her. There was too much pain in the way she looked down at her own body with disgust.

“And these men?” he asked, unable to contain his anger. “Who are they? Would you be able to point them out?”

She shook her head. “They’re long dead. Every one of them died a quick death at the exact same time.”

“You killed them?”

She again shook his head. “No, my ‘brother’ did. Or someone who used to call themselves my brother. You’ve met him.”

Zach made a questioning glance, and then Fylwen opened her mouth as if to explain. But before she could speak, the realization hit him immediately, and he said, “Peter Brayspark?”

She nodded, slowly. “For the earliest years of my life, he was my best friend and protector. Our families used to be close before his father…” Her words trailed off, and she stared at the sky a moment. Zach could see the pain on her face. He doubted that time had done much to dull it.

“I can get you one of those stones,” he said. “I think the red ones would—”

“They will not work, young man.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because it has been too long. By the time I had found Archian Prime and had begun gaining power, my body no longer recognized this as an injury. For that reason, it cannot be healed: neither by magic nor by stone.”

“Oh. I didn’t know it worked like that. Okay, well, humans, you know, we have these surgeons now that can actually—”

“You are far kinder than I deserve, but please, Zach. I am who I am, and let us leave it at that.”

“Okay,” he whispered. Then, more loudly, he said, “But just so you know, you’re still beautiful. Just like Kalana. I promise you.”

“I am not beautiful,” she said after a short while. “I am horrific. I’ve been robbed of everything. I suffer. I hate. I want to kill. You’ll understand sooner or later. There exists no evil in this world like that of humanity. I swear this to you, Zachys Calador. You will see this for yourself before long.”

Walking slowly over to her, he said nothing for a moment as he carefully grabbed the sides of her gown and helped guide her back into it. Without uttering a word of her own, she silently complied and allowed him to help her restore her decency; upon pulling up the dress, he gently tied the string in the back. Then, turning his head away briefly so that he could gather his thoughts, he was quick to again meet her gaze.

“I’ve already seen it,” he whispered. “So I know that, at least on some level, you’re not wrong.”

“Oh?”

In this moment, Zach lost his ability to despise her. He thought he’d never be able to forgive her for what she’d done to him. But now…now things had changed. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t hate her. He didn’t know why. But the sheer injustice of it all: it broke through to him in a way that he did not consciously choose to allow, but nevertheless could not prevent. And so, in great detail, he told her about the night he’d found his father’s body sprawled on the city street outside his apartment. He told her everything. How Varsh had murdered his dad simply on a whim: for no reason other than the fact that he “felt” like it. He told her how Varsh had made him feel. How he had told Zach that he was trash: that he was worthless. How Zach struggled every day to convince himself that it wasn’t true but could not seem to bring himself to fully believe he was anything else. He told her how he was tired of feeling so powerless. How much it had hurt him to lose Kalana after finally confessing both to her—and in many ways, also to himself—how much he loved her.

Incredibly, he did not stop there. But he continued to tell her more and more about his experiences beyond that point. And even as he spoke, he couldn’t believe that he was actually telling her all this. She, the woman who had betrayed him and caused him to experience death. Now, here he was, telling her every single thing that had happened to him beginning on the day he’d discovered a spawn point. He told her more about his life than he’d told anyone: Kolona and Olivir included. Even Lienne and Rian.

He told her about the years he’d spent going to school with Kalana. He told her how his cat had taught him to fight with a sword, and for a while had been his only friend as he set out to better himself with no one but Fluffles by his side. Then he told her about his experience in Yorna, and his fight with Moldark. He told her about the dragon, and why he had been wounded the first time they had met. He did skip over the part about Archian Prime, as he doubted either of them needed to go over that bit of history again. But aside from that, for a reason he did not know, he shared with her a near complete retelling of the events that had led him to this point.

And she listened.

Zach did not know why, but for some reason, that mattered to him. Just as it had when Olivir and Kolona had listened. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that someone heard these things. What did he matter, truly? Why would anyone even care? These questions led him to feel as though it was almost rude for him to spill everything out there like this. But she seemed to care for some reason. Several times, he asked her if he should stop, as he knew that the most important people in the world—or at least the world of humanity—were waiting for her. And each time, her answer had been the same.

“They can wait,” she said. “I want to hear more.”

And he obliged. Even though it was selfish. Even though he was wasting the time of a queen. For almost thirty minutes, he recounted and recalled the events that had recently transformed his life. Yet at some point during his long, uninterrupted tale, he began to realize that, on at least one point, Fylwen was correct. It was something that registered in the back of his mind then solidified until he accepted it as a truth. And it was what she’d said to him regarding her own actions: that there was a difference between mistake and malice.

All this time, Zach had been so blinded by the anger and hurt that she’d caused him that he’d been totally incapable of understanding something so fundamental and true. Yet it all seemed so obvious now that he saw it. And while he personally felt the word “mistake” was a bit too light and maybe let her off the hook a bit too easily, there was a deeper truth in what she was saying.

Because truly, Zach did not know if the woman before him, Fylwen Vayra, could fairly be considered a monster. Was she a monster? Maybe—or maybe not. He no longer believed so himself. But even if she was a monster, what she was absolutely, one-hundred percent not, was a demon. And while it might seem like semantics, there really was a difference there that mattered. A man like Varsh: he was a demon. He was evil. This was something Zach now understood.

You can be bad and not evil, Zach thought. Fylwen is bad. But she’s not evil. She could be good if she really wanted to. Varsh can’t. Varsh is evil.

As Zach at last finished speaking, a sudden rush of anger began flooding into him from seemingly out of nowhere. And it was because of this anger that he concluded things by asking her a question he really, really shouldn’t have asked.

“You told me you’d help me if I asked. Did…did you really mean that? About being my ally?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately. “I swear this to you. I will never hurt you again. If you treat my daughter with love, I will love you like a son, human or not. I swear this to you, Zach.”

He clenched his hands into fists. “The man who tied up Kal, killed my dad, and almost beat your husband to death. I want revenge. I want to kill him. He got away with it. Then he put a bounty on my head, or he had someone do it. I don’t know the full details. I only know that I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take knowing he got away with it.”

Fylwen nodded, firmly. “Varsh…I know him.”

“You do?”

“Not personally. I followed human politics closely when I lived on Galterra. He’s fourth in command of the Royal Roses.”

“That’s right,” Zach said. Then he scratched his head and laughed. “At least I think he is.”

“And you say this man, for no reason other than amusement, murdered your father?”

“Yes. He ordered the woman he was with to throw my dad out of a window.”

The look of disgust on her face did not appear insincere. She briefly bared her teeth, furrowed her brow, and flared her nostrils. “And he abused my daughter, too!” she hissed.

“That’s right. He did.”

“We will end him. I will bring down a fire upon him and everyone he’s ever known. I did not know this man had done this. And to think: I spoke to this pathetic excuse for a lifeform only moments ago.”

At this, Zach felt every muscle in his body tighten with rage. “He’s here?” Zach snapped. “Varsh is here? Right now?”

“Of course he is.”

An anger so powerful he didn’t know it was within him burst forward so suddenly he could barely contain himself. “That fucking piece of shit…he’s here?” Zach screamed. In his mind, memories of his father’s corpse sprawled out onto the pavement, shattered pieces of glass framing his body, the peacekeepers leaving him there to rot—it all came flooding back to him. Now, even more tears came to his eyes, and this time, they were not of sadness, but of rage.

“All the hate I had for you, Queen V—”

“You may call me Fylwen,” she said.

He nodded. “Thank you. Uh, all the hate I had for you, Fylwen, I’m going to put it into him instead. He’ll pay for what both of you did. And then we’ll be okay, you and me. But I need to be the one who does it. I want to avenge my dad with my own two hands. I want him to know it was me. He called me trash. He called me worthless. He told me that people like me don’t even deserve to live because of how low and worthless we are.”

“Human filth,” Fylwen said. “He put his hands on my daughter. And yet he spoke to me and acted as though it were an ordinary encounter. He mocked me.”

“Fylwen, if I were to go Phase Level 3, could you heal me? That’s the help I need from you. It has the same exertion cost as 2.”

She rubbed her chin a moment. “If I rest up a bit, yes. Assuming you were to trust me, I would be able to pay your debt. As long as it is not accompanied by any others. Why?”

“Because if I challenge him to a duel, he’ll accept. And I don’t think I can beat him the way I am now.”

“You can if I give you my strongest buffs. Given what is coming tomorrow, it seems a waste to go that route now. Based on my recollection, there is no way I can save you if you push beyond 3. You may wish to reserve that for the dragon. It would be beyond overkill on someone as weak and unworthy as Varsh.”

“But you think I could win if you buffed me?”

“I know that you could. But…are you really thinking of just marching back to the camp and goading that man into a duel to the death.”

“Yes!” Zach screamed. “He’s a political guild piece of shit. I’ve fought for my life so many times now I’ve lost count. I need this. I need this.”

Fylwen again rubbed her chin. “You’re going to need real equipment. We can’t have you taking him on in that level-5 rubbish. I did tell you I had a gift for you, didn’t I?”

Zach cocked an eyebrow. “More cool Elvish stuff?”

“Sadly, no. Just level-45 gear from Archian Prime I have in my vault. Still, it’ll get the job done. And though I truly intend no insult, young man, having been within close proximity of you, I can assure you a change of attire would be within your best interest.”

He coughed out a laugh. “I’ve been sweating, fighting Elves, fighting mobs, thrown in sand, thrown into the sky, smashed through tables, and all in scorching heat. Deodorant can only cover so much.”

As Fylwen extended her right hand high above her head, likely to call upon her bank and storage, Zach began caressing the sword on his back while replaying his memories of Varsh over and over in his mind. He might be about to upset a whole lot of people, but he didn’t care. He needed to do this. And yet, even still, he did not agree with Fylwen’s belief about him: that he was destined for war and murder. He was not a murderer. He was not going to start wars and kill lots of humans. But he would kill Varsh. That much, he would do. And that would be justice, not murder.

If that piece of shit was here, then his life was basically already over. Zach had killed twice before, and they’d been people he didn’t even want to kill. He wanted to kill Varsh.

“If you help me get revenge for my dad, Fylwen, and this isn’t a trap, then I swear to the Gods, I’ll trust you despite everything you did, and I’ll never doubt you again. So please: help me. Right now, in this moment, I feel like I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to make him pay. I’ll never see my dad ever again, and it’s all his fault. I’ll never get over the way he beat me half to death in front of Kalana, making me look small and helpless.” Zach growled. “Fuck! I hate him. I want to hurt him and make him bleed!”

“Do you know how you will goad him?”

Zach nodded confidently. “Oh, definitely. For a guy like Varsh? That’s actually the easy part. This is not a guy who can handle being insulted or slighted.”

“Well then,” the queen said, now holding a bundle of various pieces of gear in her arms. “I’ll turn around while you change. And then, I shall earn your trust.”

“Let’s do this.”

********

“Zach this” and “Zach that.”

It was all any of these morons wanted to talk about. This was such a waste of time. Honestly, Varsh didn’t understand why someone of his stature had been required to come down to this Gods-cursed plot of filth just to take a few photos. He had far better things to do than to waste his time dabbling in adventurer matters. As far as he was concerned, boss-fighting was their responsibility, and ensuring the world remained a civil place was his.

This is so beneath me, he thought to himself, feeling disgusted.

Varsh reviled even the very city itself. Everyone knew that “people” from Shadowfall Coast were poor, working-class Ones who aspired to be nothing and thus never became anything. Varsh couldn’t wait until him and his brigade of Ones marched along with the other commanders and burned this place to the ground in the upcoming conventional war that looked almost certain to be taking place. The people of this filthy city could use a good cleanse, and the Royal Roses were going to bring it to them, oh yes indeed they were.

For now, though, he would just have to endure this eyesore of a region. Ugh. Trash. Everywhere around him was trash. And now, it seemed, that a particular piece of garbage had become the talk of the town. This “Zachys Calador,” the worthless scoundrel who’d made his name off severing Varsh’s hand. The dragon hadn’t had a Gods-damned thing to do with it. Only the boy’s proximity to Varsh had made that runt famous. And he’d only sliced off Varsh’s hand by using dirty tricks. Regrowing it had been costly and painful.

Now, it seemed, that fueled by the popularity he’d gained off Varsh’s name, everyone in the raid camp was talking about him: and they were all looking for him. The adventurers, the political guild leaders, and even that bratty “princess” who’d been mewling and begging him back in Whispery Woods. Honestly, this entire situation disgusted him. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could handle.

“I don’t know where he is,” the annoying little bitch said. “And he’s not answering his phone. Alex, I really need to talk to him. I’m worried, and I love him, and I’m not gonna be mean or anything I just wanna know he’s okay, ‘cause he stormed off on his own again.”

“I need to speak with him as well,” the unforgivable bastard replied to her. “Likely for the same reasons you do. We’ll find him, don’t worry. Actually, I think they said he went off to have a conversation with your mother.”

“That’s what worries me. I’m worried she’s gonna kill him!”

“She’s not that stupid. She left with him in front of countless witnesses. If anything happened to him, everyone would know it was her fault.”

“But she’s not gonna care, Alex. My mom’s…you saw how she is now!”

“Let’s just be calm, Kalana. Please.”

The two of them were having some kind of conversation outside their respective tents, which were nearby to one another in the central area of the raid camp. Varsh had absolutely no idea whatsoever what they were talking about, of course, because insignificant people and their insignificant conversations did not deserve to be understood. He’d really like to tell them so himself, but regrettably, Varsh had been personally ordered to play nice with these worthless gutter-swine. He could not interact with or say anything to them. Haisel Ragora had made that abundantly clear.

I should kill him in his sleep one of these days and take his place, Varsh thought, suppressing a growl. Haisel is another worthless piece of shit.

Varsh looked around for a place to cool off. It was too Gods-be-damned hot out here. The very fact that he was standing around and sweating like some kind of One…it was almost too degrading to bear. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he had to stand here while all anyone seemed to want to talk about was a teenager from the Whispery Woods: quite literally the lowest place from which someone could hail, and quite possibly the only city on Galterra more disgusting than Shadowfall Coast. So yes. Varsh was annoyed. It was hot, he was forced to be here practically against his will, and he kept having to hear that boy’s name as though he was someone with value who mattered.

Oh! And look! There he was now, strolling back into the camp from the north side with the little bitch’s mother by his side. What a surprise. The attention-seeking vermin had shown up for more attention. Just look at how many people were turning to stare at him as he strolled right on into the camp like he belonged here. At least he’d finally done something about his appearance, if nothing else. Though he was still trash on the inside, kudos to whoever taught him to at least present himself like someone with actual power.

He was wearing a perfectly black robe with long, black sleeves and a hooded cloak. The hood was drawn so that, as he approached, his eyes were not visible, only the sneer on his mouth. On both his arms were what looked like silver bracelets, though they were wrapped around and around his lower forearms like chains, and on his neck was a large, golden pendant in the shape of a skull; both its eyes were shining a deep purple while releasing small quantities of some kind of equally purple smoke. On his back, inside of a scabbard, was a sword that looked as though it may have actually had some value.

The whelp probably stole it.

The moment he came into view, his little bitchy girlfriend, his adventurer friends, and many others began to approach him, and all began jabbering away as though they were under the impression that they were speaking to someone of worth. It was sickening how far this delusion had progressed. Even more amazingly, rather than kiss the ground they walked on for paying trash like him any mind at all, he completely ignored them and continued to march directly beyond them with a determined, perhaps even “angry” looking gait. This only caused them to become confused, as they followed along with him, asking to know where he was, if he was feeling okay, why the queen was by his side, and why the two were walking in lockstep together. The end result was that he began to look like the leader of some kind of parade.

“Mom, what’s going on?” the insufferable Elvish twerp asked.

“I made up with your boyfriend,” the faux “queen” of a mostly dead race replied.

“You what?” the girl asked, sounding shocked.

“It’s true, Kal,” the trash said to her. “Your mom and I are cool now. We had a really good talk. You should forgive her. She’s actually a really good woman—and she’s my friend, starting today.”

The Elvish girl’s mouth popped open and she almost looked as though she was so confused that she might literally faint as a result of it. She began firing off a million questions that made no sense to Varsh, many of them beginning with the words “what about” and ended with names like “Kolona” and “Olivir” who apparently the Elvish mother had wronged—all of which were ignored as the boy and her mother continued to travel in his general direction. Actually, come to think of it, he almost seemed to be staring directly at him. Not that that’d be too surprising: Varsh was the only sight around for miles worth looking at.

No, he’s definitely heading straight towards me. Interesting…

More and more adventurers began to emerge from their tents as the two continued to stride forward with powerful steps in his direction, and every one of them seemed to be trying to get an answer out of him. Even members of the media had begun rushing over to him, and they too began to shout out every conceivable combination of words as though desperate for him to respond to at least one of them. And yet, still, this hooded, sword-wielding hooligan with the skull-shaped pendant continued to march onwards until finally, coming to an abrupt halt about twenty feet in front of Varsh, he lifted his head just enough so that Varsh could see the outline of his eyes, which were narrowed.

“Varsh!” he shouted. Varsh opened his mouth to reply, then quickly shut it. He’d been told not to bother the boy, however unworthy he was of being spared the rightful, justified lashing of Varsh’s tongue. Yet, as though unbothered by his silence, the boy continued to address him. But first, he looked around, almost as though wanting to ensure that everyone in the crowd could hear what he had to say. Then, he lifted his hand, which was covered by a black leather glove, and he pointed his index finger at Varsh.

“Everyone, listen up!” he shouted, and to Varsh’s amazement, the entire camp immediately went silent. No one could shut the annoying, loud adventurers up, and yet, with just those three words from the boy, even the drunkest and loudest of them snapped their mouths shut and listened to him speak. Yet he paused a moment, and Varsh was not certain why—at least not until he saw the numerous members of the media approaching with their cameras pointed.

What’s he up to?

“Do you all see that guy over there? His name is Varsh Gellor. And he is a cowardly, weaselly, unworthy piece of shit who actually put a bounty on my head because he’s too scared to fight me in a duel one-on-one. He knows that he has no chance, so he had to hire bounty hunter because he has no honor. He’s worthless trash! But I’m going to give him a chance to redeem himself. As I’m sure you all know if you’ve been watching the news lately, I am a recently inducted member of the esteemed Royal Roses. And I am hereby invoking my right to challenge another member of my guild to a duel to the death in order to resolve our conflict. If he is a man of any honor or courage, he will come forward and fight me!”

Orders or no orders, Varsh exploded with rage even before he’d finished speaking. He didn’t care what anyone said. NO ONE spoke to him that way!