Unbound

“I suppose saying good riddance is bad form,” Alister said with a laugh. The docks shifted beneath him as his soldiers finished loading up the last of the tribute. “Though I do appreciate you lending us this ship.”

Lavin inclined her head and smiled. “It is an easy favor to grant, Lord Knacht, especially when I know the Nagafolk will return it within the day.”

She was in far better spirits now than in all the previous days Alister had known her, which wasn’t many, but still felt significant. “Authority suits you, Princess Etriska.”

“Your silver tongue is unnecessary, Alister. Or are you afraid I would change my mind about your departure?”

Alister smiled. “It had crossed my mind.”

“Worry not. I’ve enough fires to put out in this province without managing a quarry’s worth of prisoners.” She lowered her voice. “Besides, we will need to formalize our treaty sooner rather than later. The threat from our neighbors grows with each day.”

“Have you heard more from the border skirmishes?” Alister asked.

“Only that the Hierocracy has retreated from all fronts. My scouts have yet to determine why.”

It was certainly curious. The moment Alister had won his duel, they had received word of strangeness at the borders where Tevin had started conflicts with the neighboring provinces. “I suppose we can just look at it as a blessing and capitalize on it.”

In the end, there was little else to say. The princess saw Alister and his soldiers onto their ship and the Nagafolk back into the water within the hour, and only an hour after that they all approached Haestus Temple.

Alister and Etriska had spent time hammering out a treaty between Tevin Province and Nagast. In it, Alister had promised aid in the form of troops and supplies to bolster the princess’ efforts to oust the Hierocracy. Everything the late prince had wanted, in fact, with none of the subservience and power plays. They had also agreed that a council of Knights, Gallants, Menders, and Nagafolk was necessary to establish trade and to make use of the power in her province. It even afforded the Nagafolk recognition as a sovereign state within their borders.

All in all, it was a neat solution to their problems, and all that was required now was for Felix to sign it.

Ahead, the waters opened up into a swirling whirlpool tunnel.

“That is the entrance to the Temple?” Paxus asked.

“Hm? Oh, yes. It’s a magic of the Nagafolk, I believe.”

“No. Perhaps they altered it, but this is part of the Temple itself.” Paxus leaned over the railing, not actually touching anything. “Quite clever.”

After Tevin’s defeat, Alister had swiftly freed the spirit from his bondage. Angry and hurt, Paxus had insisted on being taken back with them. Which is how Alister had become saddled with a potted cutting from the Abundance Anima.

“Does this require water?” he asked, eying the plant. It was small and thin, but remarkably green.

“No. It feeds on Mana directly. Ah, here we go.”

The ship tilted forward, caught up in the whirlpool, and Alister hugged the pot tightly. The Deepking dove ahead of them, leading the way back to the Temple.

Back home.

“Come in.”

Zara slipped through the door of the Healing Ward chamber and found Isla sitting in bed. “I came as soon as I heard. Are you—?”

“I’m fine,” Isla straightened herself against the headboard, trying and failing to hide a wince. “I’m mostly fine.”

Zara frowned. “The device that Teine used…are you experiencing any ill effects?”

“A ringing in my ears. Strains of Dissonance linger in my Affinity.” Isla sighed. “I am unsure if they will vanish.”

“They should, in time.” Zara let her Perception pan across the room, taking in the ten foot frame of burnished gold that sat one bed over. “And Karys?”

“In recovery. My healers and our visiting Menders were able to remove the traces of Profane Sigaldry from his chassis. He was awake not too long ago.”

“Did he have details about how Teine was able to subdue him?”

“The device resonated with the Profane Sigaldry Karys had missed when he’d taken over the Body. With those traces gone, there is little to fear going forward.”

Zara’s eyes landed on the last person in the room, seated far away from the other two with a triple layer of wards around him. “Atar…has he woken up at all?”

Isla’s frown smoothed out, though her Spirit was worried. “No. But somehow he remains alive.”

Laid out on a stone bed was a skeleton of blackened bones. There wasn’t a single scrap of meat on his frame, let alone vital organs.

He was covered by pure white flames.

"We cannot put them out," Isla explained. "I…I think they are all that is keeping him alive."

Gabby opened her eyes to find herself laid upon a plain of dusty soil. It was gray and lifeless, and as she sat up and looked around, she saw only more of the same. Mountains rose in the distance, but she was unsure how far away they were. Everything seemed unreal. Her limbs were heavy but her head was floating, as if she were hovering above the terrain and looking down.

She looked up, and a scream tried to crawl up her throat, but died before it could became anything more than a heavy, panicked breath. She tried to look away, but couldn’t. The sky was black, burned almost, and there were no stars.

But there were moons.

The moons were figures. Nightmares encased in flesh and chained to vast prisons. They were talking, but the words made no sense.

She saw a golden figure fall to the ground between them all. The moons gathered close, seeming to be celestial orbs and also giants made of shifting flesh.

Pathless, she thought, and memories started to coalesce again. She recalled him, and a piece of her felt agony at seeing his terrible wounds. Rage at the one who did it followed, blossoming in her chest with a strange distance. As if the feeling weren’t her own.

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She shoved it away. In its place came other emotions, other memories from a deep recess within her Mind. Cobwebs snapped and faded, releasing a flood of suppressed thoughts. That rage was still there, tied to a face. A face she recognized.

Is that…my brother?

—You Would Condemn Your Family? the Pathless asked. The words suddenly clicked in her head. I Have Fought Our Enemy. The One That Has Wounded Vellus. Noctis. And Even Siva. Now He Has Torn Into Me, As Well. Can You Not Spare An Ounce Of Sympathy For My Plight?

I Ask Only For Mercy.

There was a rumbling among the nightmare moons-that-weren’t-moons. Gabby gritted her teeth to hear it, but they resolved into words after a few horrible seconds. Two figures bound as one were speaking and their voices mingled together.

You Left Us Chained For Ages, Brother. You Would Have Left Us Forever, I Am Thinking.

No! I Was Looking For A Solution! But Ouranic Law—

Does Not Apply To You Any Longer.

The Pathless stilled, his own hellish form twisting in Gabby’s vision. What Madness Do You Speak?

The Twins leaned closer. Mercy Is Denied.

NO!

As one, all of the gods fell upon the Pathless, and Gabby looked away. Not before the image of their twisted, ever-changing flesh was burned into her retinas, however. And she could not ignore the discordant twist of song that followed, as the Pathless was devoured entirely.

The gods twitched, suddenly back where they were. Golden ichor ran down their fronts as light poured from the strange gaps in their convoluted flesh. The chains around them gave a sudden, rattling clink and seemed to slacken.

Ah. That Is Very Nice, a dark figure said. Its head was surmounted by stars but it had no face, only a cavernous hole that fell inward toward a vast nothingness.

Not Freedom, But I Can Already Feel My Power Returning, said the silver one.

Now, What Is To Be Done With Her? asked a putrid form, their voice a fetid stink that she could hear rather than smell.

Gabby gasped as the presences reached for her and she ran, but she could not move fast enough to evade the gods. She was a toddler fighting an adult.

No, she clarified as twisted, disjointed fingers grasped her. An ant fighting a boot.

She was lifted from the blasted earth.

Unbound. Chosen Vessel Of Our Fallen Brother, said the twinned voices. We Would Like To Make A Bargain.

The sun was setting, lighting the entire city of Pax’Vrell with strokes of orange. People were dancing in the streets and bells rang out from nearly every street corner. He could smell bread and savory pies being baked and hear the faint hiss of kegs being tapped dozens of stories below. He imagined that the locals were going to have quite the party to welcome home their friends and family.

They had won the day, and the Hierocracy was gone from the Territory.

If he squinted, Felix could almost imagine he’d won too.

“Felix?” Vess said, sticking her head out of a curtained doorway. “They are ready for you now.”

He sighed and nudged his friend with his boot. “C’mon, Pit. Time to talk. Again.”

“Really?” Pit gave a big stretch. “Thought we just did that.”

Felix pushed through the curtains and into a large, vaulted chamber filled with a massive table and many chairs. Assembled around them were the former Duke and all of his councilors.

“Have you had a chance to mull things over?” he asked as he entered, Pit walking at his heels.

A woman stood. She was a baroness or something. Felix was too tired to care. “What you have told us is quite incredible, my Lord. The gods, the plots of the Hierophant, the…” The words caught in her throat, coming out as little more than a whisper. “...Ruin. All of it is too fantastical to be true.”

“And yet it is,” Vess said forcefully. “We have brought you here to tell you all this so that our Territory can be ready for what is to come.”

“If the Ruin is coming, there is no fighting that,” one count said. “It is a death sentence for an entire Race. Worse than death. Eradication!”

“Should we not discuss the matter of kingship?” someone else asked. “That is something I am most concerned with, not a childhood fire-side tale!”

Someone else started to talk, but Felix growled until they shut up. “Believe what you want, but your people need to be protected. As far as the kingship goes, I took control of the city so I could utilize its advanced defenses and oust the Hierophant’s Subordinate Seal…but I don’t plan on handing it back. Too much is at risk, both for your people and my own.

“Today was a victory for many, but I lost something important, and I’m not planning on resting until I get it back.”

“But—”

Before the councilor could continue, Felix went blind, deaf, and dumb. He doubled over as a paroxysm of agony punched through his stomach and chest before expanding through every inch of his Body.

Through his bond, Pit also shrieked in distress, but it was a fading, distant thing. The sound of System energy flooding his core space overwhelmed it.

Notifications flashed before him, the only things he could see.

The Pathless, God Of Light And Order, Is Dead!

XP Earned!

You Have Gained 25 Levels!

You Are Now Level 99!

+500 to STR! +550 to PER! +550 to VIT! +650 to END! +600 to INT! +700 to WIL! +650 to AGL! +725 to DEX!

+500 All Harmonic Stats!

You Have 450 Unused Stat Points!

Your Companion Pit Has Gained 20 Levels!

Pit Is Now Level 96!

He Gains:

+200 STR, +180 PER, +80 VIT, +220 END, +140 INT, +200 WIL, +400 AGL, +400 DEX!

+200 AFI, RES, and REI!

He Has 1100 Unused Stat Points!

Senses returned in a potent rush. Sounds blared at him and only the feel of the cold floor centered him. Felix pressed his hands against it, fighting past the pain…and the polished stone shattered beneath his touch.

Vess leaned close, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Felix? What is it? I can hear—something. The sound of…so much.”

The gathered councilors muttered, concern and fear threading their tones. Felix could practically hear them sweat.

He sat up. His Perception flexed, drawing in everyone around him as if he were viewing them through a telescope, but he fought it down until he could see normally. He stood, carefully, “The Pathless is dead.”

Stone silence met his words, but he felt their disbelief. Annoyed, he shared the notification with them all. Someone in the back fainted.

“Did you kill him, my Lord?”

“No,” Felix grimaced. “I wanted to, but he was alive when he vanished.”

“What does that mean?” Beef asked from the side. “Sorry for interrupting. But a god? Holy…heck,” he looked at the well-dressed nobles nervously. “That’s huge.”

“And good news for us,” Archie agreed.

“Not if it was the other gods that killed him,” Felix said. He had no proof, but who else could have done it? “That means the other gods are stronger now. More of a threat than ever.”

Vess’ father stepped forward. “You and your companions saved our city. The entire Territory. That is a debt that cannot be repaid, but I must try. How might we help?”

“Hear hear,” cheered an old jowly lord in the back.

“I appreciate that,” Felix said. He wanted to smile, but all he felt was grim determination. “War is coming. What we need are warriors.”

He looked at Beef and Archie and held their gazes. “All of them.”

Understanding dawned on them both at the same time, and Felix was glad for that. The Pathless might have been dead, but the gods still had his sister. That could not stand.

The gods had to die, but he couldn’t fight more than one at a time so long as he weakened them first. What he needed was an army just like him.

He needed the rest of the Unbound.

And he knew just where to start.

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