The sun cast a dark orange hue upon the forest, growing darker by the moment, and a pair of moons shone in the opposite direction, softly, as the sky turned form sky blue to purple as night approached. The two of them found a pair of tall rocks lying on each other for support and they huddled under their cover. Hunted some animal or other, Syl did that. While Myron gathered dried sticks and tried to start a fire. With bleeding calluses in his hands he succeeded.

The two of them ate a bland meal of overcooked meat, rabbit meat - which surprised Myron a little, but it was only proper that a food chain went from mortal animals to superpowered animals, everything had levels.

This turned out to be the most filling meal that Myron had ever had, and it had more to do than just the fact that he was starving, or the fact that for the first day in years he had not only felt emotions for a change, but so many all at the same time.

Even with the gruesome memory of yet another butchering in his mind knocking about, gratitude, at nature, at Syl, at the portal, and maybe even at himself for the happenings of this day overflowed more than anything else. He was content in this moment, ready to go to sleep with a day well spent, and without regrets to haunt him. It was a wonderful feeling.

As Myron laid back on a bed of tall leaves that made for a comfortable enough bed in the wild, he brought up his System and focused on Syl’s name within it.

Bonded of Myron

Name: Syl

Level 28 Emeramantis Queen

Tier - Second

Type: Plant/Metal

Attributes

Aether: 82/82

Shield: 200/200

Strength: 48

Agility: 39

Intelligence: 18

Control: 29

Abilities

Tremor Sense {P}

Sprout *

Leech Seed

Shrieking Mandrake

Bind

Petal Blizzard *

Steel Claw

Rend *

Bullet Kick

Alloy Body *

Polished Sheen

“The Status is an interesting thing. It’s different for you that it is for me.”

“That’s because we have very different roles you and I, as well as body composition.”

“What is this Shield?” Myron pointed to the line in his status forgetting that Syl couldn’t see it at all.

She chuckled and answered, “It’s the love of Aether towards Aimon put into numbers. As long as I have some Shield in me, I will immediately heal from any injury and damage as if it never happened, only the pain would linger for a bit.”

“That’s very interesting. How come the Boar Aimon we took the tusks from didn’t heal then?”

“Because I tore it’s shield to shreds. If it wasn’t for whatever points it had, it would have been split apart by my Ability. Our strength difference was just that big.”

“And the Ability you used. [Rend] was it? Very devastating. Looking at it now, it has a star next to it’s name. What is that?”

“It means that I have evolved it.” She knew Myron would not understand that so she buckled down for a quick explanation.

“That Boar, was Red Tier, or First tier, that means it had not yet passed through the gap separating Level 9 and 10, and had thus not gone through it’s consolidation. Or evolution. It could not transform like me or those Trainer Bound Aimon.”

Myron nodded and she continued. “At the Consolidation, when it happens with a Trainer and if an Aimon is truly ready, at least one Ability may Evolve or join with another to make them stronger. They gain a star to show that in the Status. Afterwards, every ability has the potential to grow beyond what it currently is under specific and unknown circumstances. For example, Rend used to be just Clawed Strike, but after killing a particularly tough enemy with it, it evolved.”

“Interesting, maybe I could work at figuring out what makes these Abilities Evolve.”

Syl shrugged. “Maybe. Plenty of others must have tried but knowledge like that is guarded with great zeal by whomever may posses it.”

“Yeah, I’ll figure it out on my own then. Give me enough data points and a spreadsheet and I’ll have it done.” Myron chuckled at Syl’s clear lack of comprehension and waved it away.

“Did you kill your opponents often?” Myron asked and Syl nodded.

“More so because my Opponents tended to be my Trainer’s enemies. Clansmen out to kill him and steal back the breeding resource,” she pointed to herself. “Or simply greedy fools that couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get a Queen for themselves.”

“I see, and how did you fight? How is Aimon battle done?”

“It depends on your Class, your chosen path. Damien was a decent craftsman. So he didn’t fight, though he made items to boost my efficacy, and that is where our main income came from.”

“A Craftsman… and what about Syvan, and the Rest of them? How many classes are there?”

“The classes are Brawler, Enhancer, Craftsman, Keeper, Primer, Instructor. For the three unknowns I am not sure, Hanau could be an Enhancer if I remember her correctly when she had worked with Damien once. Syvan I know. Everyone knows. He’s a Brawler.” Syl said so and Myron could not help but notice the tinge of awe at those words.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Why is a Brawler so special?”

“It’s not better than the others, I assure you. I know it’s not, all classes are equal. But that is not what society thinks. The Emperor is a Brawler. In the Shinka Empire you won’t find a more prestigious claim to fame than this. Those destined and chosen by the System to be Brawlers are proud of that fact, and the Government rewards them. Duke Oakenshield? A Brawler, his Bastard, one as well, his Actual Heir? A Keeper….” She scoffed. Myron raised a brow and she noticed it.

“Don’t get me wrong. I know that Keepers hold value, just like all others. It’s just that… when Aimon are considered Property at worst, Soldiers at Best… A Guardian Trainer, a lore keeper, a Scholar and a researcher… they lack pizzazz, they lack power, aura. They are thus weak in political power. Add to that the fact that he’s a half-assed keeper at most, and you have a disaster of a political situation.”

Myron understood then, the intricate politics behind the Marriage to a princess, and potentially even Syvan’s attempt at helping out his little brother. As well as the Duke’s intentions. But he paid them no mind. He cared not for politics.

“So Syvan….” Myron said and hesitated a bit. “His Three Aimon… He fights alongside them? Like… in Battle with supernatural, super strong Monsters?”

“He’s strong, and very disciplined. His use of the sword is said to be so magnificent and powerful that he can battle toe to toe with an Aimon of similar level. A feat rarely seen even amongst Brawler Trainers. Humans are just weaker than us.”

“It certainly feels like that. So if we had stayed and fought, it would be like fighting four Aimon not three…. Oh, but what Type would he be?”

“He has not type, or maybe he has all of them. Humans have a type of Skill that is without Type, unless they are a Brawler they can’t use Aether in any elemental Form. Brawlers get to use abilities from the repertoire of their Bonded Aimon, and thus Syvan could be said to have the basic Trifecta.”

“Plant, Water, Fire?”

“Exactly.”

“Not what I expected.”

“What did you expect then?”

“Do Fighting Type Aimon exist?”

“They do, how did you know?”

“That’s a long story, maybe for tomorrow… I expected him to be with Fighting type Aimon then. Thinking that A Martial Arts Junkie would be surrounded by similar nuts.”

Syl laughed into the night, with the stars as her witness. “That may be true, but that would be putting his eggs in one basket, losing a lot of the versatility that Brawler Class is supposed to offer to its user. As I said, usually Humans can’t match Aimon one to one despite the Class, and thus make up for it with Quantity.”

“It is said that Quantity is a Quality of its own.” Seeing Syl nod, Myron continued. “How come those other three didn’t have Three Aimon like Syvan, and also, if Brawler is a class so powerful and so respected in society. Why don’t all Trainers get it? How do I get it, in fact?”

“That’s a lot of questions. Maybe you want to slow down there?” Syl raised her hands defensively, and Myron chuckled. “Sorry, got too invested. This is all so fascinating. The most interesting lecture I have had, all my life, 28 years of it.”

“It’s hard to care for and to train three Aimon all by yourself. Especially with how strict most trainers are in their… Methods with Aimon. As we are property, yet also thinking beings like Humans, conditioning, stick & carrot, a whole bunch of methods are used to keep Aimon in line, and thus they take a lot of time. A trainer needs to be strong to be able to defend himself from the potential ire of his Aimon and the greed of his peers. The more Aimon you have, the bigger of a target you’ll be, especially if one of them is rare. Despite that, most keep more than three Aimon in their party, those three not excluded. They simply had a single Aimon out and about. Except for Hanau and Syvan of course. Most trainers, keep their Aimon within their Souls, within their Tethers.” Myron raised his brows at that answer, but held back when the term Tethers came into the forefront of his mind. Remembering that Syl had just asked him to slow down.

“Now onto your other Question. The System, a lot of the time, chooses for us. It’s a matter of aptitude. What Path does it show you? What it shows is what it believes will work best for you. It has access to your soul, thus we expect that it knows a lot about you, so more often than not, it’s predictions are followed. If it says Brawler then go for it.”

“It says none.”

“Huh.” Syl stopped talking and fell into a spell of thoughts. Myron wondered if he was screwed out of the opportunity to live a true life in this world like all other humans. But when she looked at him there was a spark of interest gleaming deep in her wholly emerald eyes.

“None, means the same as All. The System is unable to decide which path would be best for you and thus you are free to choose out of anyone. We always are free but it is considered very dumb to defy the words of the System.”

“Interesting. So I can become a Brawler if I so wish, or any other of the Six. That’s good.”

“It’s more than good.” Syl said and a smile filtered across her face before she schooled her expression.

“Shush.” Syl placed a finger over her lips. Myron shut his mouth. He made to stand but she waved for him to stay seated. She grabbed the end of a flaming stick from their fire, and moved it around slowly, she leaned forward, towards the darkness just steps away from the clearing under the rocks.

At first there was nothing. She stood, but put the burning wood back into the fire. She cast her arm forward, fingers dancing, and the trees around then, their roots grew alive, and they writhed like snakes, feeling for any obstacles that shouldn’t be there.

Syl had sensed movement, she was certain. Despite being distracted her Tremor Sense wouldn’t have made a mistake. But the moment she noticed it, the world went silent. Too silent.

The roots found purchase. “Ghrah!” The indignant cry of the captive sounded through the forest. The world blossomed into violence. From the earth rose women with tusks and pink flesh, with four fingers arms as big as Myron’s head, with legs as wide as waists whole, that ended in hooves, a mane of dark brown hair that plumed out from their heads and necks and ran in lines down their spines till their arm-long tails.

Orange energy burned at their fingertips. Syl dodged the expert strikes, until the earth destabilized from under her. The Rocks above them shaking as well ready to fall and crush them under their hefty tonnage.

A kick with a burning orange aura landed on Syl’s shins, and a chop landed on her neck yet the sound of clinging metal broke out. Her body shone with a bronze sheen and as she pushed forward into a counterattack, large claws that glowed like the silver moon above sprouted from her arms. [REND!] She grunted and the four assailants were pushed back screamed. Yet Syl was not done. Roots rose and bound them. She attacked once more and this time the level disparity of the two became apparent. They were cut open, as if they had no substance, no weight with which to stop the shining claws. The Blood slid right off them and she jumped over them. Morphing into her monster form, the forest coming awake, petals dance in her trail, a gathering storm, tainted red by the blood mist of the split corpses.

The smell of shit and organs filled the air, mixed in with the sweet aroma of a garden in spring, a sickening feeling spread through Myron at the violence - worry for Syl who valiantly dashed into the fray, as more attacks sounded in the dark. Rocks flew and martial shouts blared through the night. The earth shook and the forest trembled and the hissing of a cutting wind, a storm of deadly petals and a metal body that stood in the center of it all.

Until the Fire came and clashed. The forest shrieked. He stood there, unable to do anything, to see anything, completely powerless before the majesty of these creatures.

And then, out of nowhere, where even the big bad was occupied by its clash with Syl, fire against Plants, Fire against Metal, with Syl at a clear disadvantage.

When Myron least expect it, a Woman, an Aimon, with features different yet similar to her people. Ginger mane instead of brown, blue eyes instead of amber. Freckles on her face, and whiskers under those, some hidden by her massive cyan tusks. She reached him and constrained him, jumping from the shadows of the forest into the light and then she dove right back in. He immediately noticed the soft, and thin, almost imperceptible hide that ran all over her skin.

She draped him like a sack of potatoes over her shoulders. “SYL! Get away! They’ve Captured me!” He screamed into the night as he was taken further and further away from his only failsafe, the mighty Syl. He hoped she heard him, but was otherwise holding the back of his head to avoid the whipping of branches this Aimon pushed aside as she tore her way through the forest.

This was a predicament. He wasn’t quite ready to die, but he wasn’t trained to fight back either. Syl had mentioned that the most probably outcome of this napping was his heart being gorged on while he still lived. He didn’t like his prospects of escaping or of defeating her, so what her his chances of stopping his untimely death at the hands of Monster that didn’t know better?

He sighed and calm, putting his mind hard at thought, as his eyes watched the forest slip. Tall grass, muddy earth, black dirt and round boulders took over the terrain. A palpable depth to the air made his breath catch in his lungs. A density to the Aether, he assumed from what Syl had previously mentioned. It didn’t happen all at once, but it happened quick enough, and he felt it.

On a patch of dry earth clear of all tall grass, nearly as tall as him, and he wasn’t short even by modern standards, she dropped him to the ground. She caught her breath and he scanned her from top to bottom. It seems the time had come.