Battleforged
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Chapter 235 - A Kingdom Is Forged. Long Live The Queen!
🕑 Added 2022-12-30 04:00:00 +0000 UTCEric grinned at the sight of thousands of fresh centurai now swelling his forces, forgiving them in death what he never could in life, savoring the boons of fresh troops and titles both, for all that the land itself trembled with the might of a Contender who dared keep an entire realm in a state of flux, refusing to collapse the boundless realms of probability, no matter how much his body and soul craved release.
All he had to do was look at the magnificent city glittering like a jeweled crown in the star-filled heavens to know that he dare not surrender yet.
Not when he would dare a heritage library freed of even time’s measuring strides, where any amount of knowledge, or peril, might be delivered in the blink of an eye… or long after Earth’s fate had finally been sealed.
He licked his lips, even as he trembled with exhilaration, body and soul blessed with one final boon as he walked toward the silver steps leading to that heavenly sanctum, somehow not at all surprised to find both his mother and sister both waiting for him at the edge of those translucent steps. Though he hadn’t expected Lord Drevyn who he had first met via the interface screen in the bunker that had been his home, or an exquisitely dolled up Annika Drevyn who had caught his gaze while giving her speech to possible contenders in Freetown, now flashing him an almost impish smile.
Then there was Lady Valorn herself, who had seized and lost Gilton City, now glaring at him so intently that it made his blood run cold. No doubt because she still thought him guilty of effectively claiming an absolute fortune in gold under her nose. Which, in fact, he had. And he’d gotten a sweet Epic tier title as a result, so he wouldn’t be apologizing any time soon.
Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised to see them. But to find them all on one knee, bowing their heads with fists to chest, along with over 900 elves archers, mages, and countless others, including wide-eyed children held in the arms of their parents, was utterly beyond his expectations.
He was being paid tribute by what seemed to be every single surviving elf left in his sister’s faction.
And with the way his mother was staring at him, her high cheekbones, piercing emerald green eyes and exquisite features both the mirror of his warmly smiling sister’s and so much more, he understood instantly why this was so.
“It is done!” Aurelia cried. “The gate between realms has been unlocked! The Silver City is now open to the worthy! The path to wisdom, transcendence, ascension now lies before us!”
Eric flashed his mother a hard smile. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, they were all reunited in person. Only now he stood before her not as the shy, awkward kid who feared her as much as he loved her, but as a Contender in his own right, refusing even to flinch from the flash of flint he saw in her gaze… this tiny defiance itself earning what he swore was a half-grin of approval.
“You really don’t get it, do you, Mother?”
Aurelia’s eyebrows widened. The sister he yearned so desperately to talk to, still a half-step behind his mother, flinched and paled, as if even now fearing their mother’s wrath.
The Winter Queen’s wrath.
But all she did was tilt her head, gazing at him with a too knowing smile. “And what is it that I don’t get, dear savior of the Sylvan Clan, Harvester of the Harrowed, Commander of 13,000 troops, Contender for the throne of Earth, and my beloved lastborn son?”
“The jeweled city lost between realms. It wasn’t just a single turn of a key away,” he explained, gazing up the staircase shimmering like liquid mercury leading up to the impossibly distant metropolis of glittering lights, soaring edifices, and impossible wonders beyond their world.
“It’s the remnant of a shattered realm, lost to myth and dream. You did but see it in the distance. Impossibly distant. Utterly beyond the reach of the magics you used, so tightly fettered to physics and causality as the elements you and Elonia both favor are.”
Eric sighed and shook his head. And how odd it was to feel so many gazes fixed so intently upon him. “I hate to say it, but with the limited resources you all had invested in it? It was no more than a mirage. A dream. Teasing with promise that would never be fulfilled. A distraction that took up too much focus, and gave your enemies the opportunity to take you all unawares.”
Eric swallowed the sudden surge of anxiety he felt at his sister’s gasp, only realizing through her worried gaze trying to convey so much to him that perhaps he had said too much, committing the cardinal sin of questioning command and his own family’s strategy, out in the open for all to witness firsthand.
But much to Eric’s surprise and quiet relief, his mother didn’t pale with fury, her cheeks two pin pricks of heat presaging the worst storm imaginable and the end of more than one poor fool’s career, as Eric had witnessed firsthand.
Her tiny smile never wavered. If anything, it grew. Smug with certainty, a confidence that Eric hadn’t expected. “And yet now, the Silver City is stable. It is well and truly here.”
Eric sighed, locking gazes with his clearly awed sister when he jerked his head. “It is. In the three dimensions of space, as we understand it, at least.”
“Because of you,” Aurelia said, Eric wincing at the sudden twisting in his gut, like a pronouncement of doom from on high. “It’s stable because of you.”
Eric conceded the point with a nod, though he held his head up high, refusing to flinch before anyone’s gaze. Not Lord Drevyn, the commander now gazing at him with what seemed genuine respect, his level in the 30s and multiple physical stats in the low fifties suddenly perfectly obvious to Eric. Not even his daughter Annika, with a Spirit Archer Class, Diplomat Profession, and an absolutely killer smile gazing at him so hungrily could make him avert his gaze. Least of all Lady Valorn, glaring at him with a cold, icy fury he now sensed so readily, for all that her exquisite features were porcelain-smooth, her physical stats also in the low fifties, near the mirror image of Lord Drevyn’s, both of them with Advanced Commander classes, and, Eric suspected, each could wipe the floor with almost any level 30 Classer in Freetown.
He was startled to feel his mother’s gentle fingertips caress his cheek. Even more startled to find himself letting her.
“It was you, my son,” Aurelia whispered, her piercing gaze capturing his own. “The key to unlocking the glorious potential of this realm was always you.”
Lord Drevyn solemnly bowed his head. His daughter positively beamed. “Our champion finally found. Our destiny at last revealed,” she declared.
That’s when he heard it. A whisper that became a dull murmur, blossoming into rumors that painted all his actions in the worst possible light. Somehow, he was not surprised to sense its origins amongst the Elves he had seen in the capture of Gilton. Lady Valorn’s former command.
Necromancer.
Tainted one.
Twisted Elf.
Monster.
Their hostile whispers rang surprisingly loud to his ears.
Eric held his head up high, brushing past his mother and Sylvan command, turning to the stares of all the surviving elves assembled behind them, most especially the ones daring to glare at his legions. Daring to glare at him. As if he had committed some unforgivable sin.
Eric glared right back, refusing to feel cowed, or ashamed. “That’s right! I did all those things I hear you whispering about. Each and every one. So sure, judge me all you like. But don’t for one moment think I’d ever violate the remains of any elf. I’m a necromancer. Not a fucking psycho.”
He turned to glance back at the legions of orcish revenants standing ramrod straight behind him, before banging fists to chests as one.
“Ave Imperator Abedimus!” countless thousands of voices roared in perfect unison, and Eric couldn’t help but smile at the countless flinches this earned.
“Just know that if I hadn’t been the savage, bloodthirsty hellion happy to walk a crimson path of blood and death, one where I will gladly embrace what so many of you consider forbidden arts, forcing my former enemies to forever dance to my tune… none of us would be having this conversation.” He gazed at them all for long moments. “Because you all would already be dead.”
“Eric, please!” said a faintly alarmed Annika, squeezing her father’s hand. “We have nothing but gratitude for your bravery, daring, and sacrifice! You have but to declare yourself, and all of us worthy of standing before you would gladly follow you into battle and fight under your banner!”
Her father nodded solemnly at those words, an action matched by nearly everyone present.
He was surprised by how quickly most of the elves present, indeed, the great majority, vociferously protested even the idea that they had anything but fierce love and devotion for him. That they were anything but grateful for Eric having rescued them all from the fires of oblivion.
In fact, it was Annika’s sharp orders to a handful of cool-eyed veteran archers that quickly ousted the twenty or so hard-eyed dissenters that had been whispering and glaring Eric’s way in surprisingly short order.
“And if there is any faction that holds ill-will and resentment to you, any faction at all, if any won’t swear lifelong allegiance to you and your rule this very instant, then I implore you to have them marched out of your lands, forbidden ever to return!” Annika declared, her voice quickly met with hundreds of nods, before hissing and glaring at the culled few among them.
As one, the singled-out elves lowered their heads. Some Eric could tell were trembling with fury, most trembling with fear.
And all of them, to a one, had been part of Lady Valorn’s faction, before they somehow ended up here, folded into Elonia’s forces.
Yet for whatever reason, neither Annika nor her father, nor even Eric’s mother, sent either glare or reprimand Commander Valorn’s way.
“Please, my lord… forgive us!” Sobbed one young female Elf Eric pinged as being around level 20, with physical stats just barely in the thirties. “It… it’s been a hard, hard year. And we… we lost everything, twice over! When we were told that you had taken...”
She immediately fell prone, and began kowtowing before him. “This worthless warrior begs for your forgiveness, my lord! If you will permit it, I will swear an oath of allegiance to you, this very moment! I will swear to serve you all my days!” She sobbed, voice warbling like a child’s, which Eric suspected she was just a few years past being.
“That won’t be necessary,” Eric said, the entire gathering before the silver stairs seeming to hold its collective breath. “Because I’m not taking command.”
The assembled elves froze with an eerie precision that sent chills down Eric’s spine.
His mother, who had been smiling so warmly at the young hero about to take hold of the reins of destiny, hissed and glared in surprise. “Eric! What madness is this? You have proven yourself. As much as any mother could want from her son, you have achieved! Even rescuing an entire beleaguered faction, a faction made up of your people, from the brink of oblivion! And you would turn your back on us now?”
Eric flashed a hard smile for the woman who had shaped him in so many ways, letting his weight and balance flow naturally toward the southern border, before darting through the silvery gate between worlds, landing upon the first liquid mercury step ascending to the city that had so captivated them all in the blink of an eye.
Leaving behind over nine hundred frozen elves, his sister gazing his way with wide-eyed wonder and a joyful smile that positively lit up his heart to see. And for just a second, he caught the furious hot glare of a Silver Tier tyrant used to controlling entire worlds, who could obliterate him in the blink of an eye.
Before she took a deep breath, and became, once more, his mother. Glaring his way with a look of absolute exasperation as he took that single step out of her reach… an entire world away.
Quickness Check made!
You have successfully entered Contender’s Sanctuary!
You have successfully stepped free of Queensland!
Queensland territory is now Unclaimed!
Queensland has been claimed by Contender Elonia Silver!
Elonia Silver has accepted the alliance of the Sylvan Faction!
Elonia Silver now commands the Sylvan Faction!
The Sylvan Faction is now in play for the throne of Earth!
“Why?” His mother’s cold voice seemed to echo through the void Eric now found himself surrounded on all sides by, the portal to the world left behind now like a distant glimmering window as he raced up the liquid mercury steps.
Eric stopped and turned around, peering at the frozen faces of all the elves. He noted Drevyn’s considering gaze. The half-smile of approval at the corners of his lips. He spotted Annika’s excitement. And her hunger. Her twinkling forest-green eyes making it quite clear that she’d be more than happy to warm a certain hero’s bed, and somehow Eric doubted her father would mind that much either. And of course, there was Lady Valorn, whose territory had been lost by means that hadn’t yet been made clear to him. But her bitterness that Eric had claimed a fortune right out from under her nose, with her blessings, no less, for all that her instant regret and demands for recompense had legitimized his perk like nothing else, was also clear as day. Just as he saw how clearly she and the remnants of her surviving faction, pitiful and small, had been cast as the villains of this play. The desperate eyes of a girl begging for redemption on her knees before him, where Eric had been standing like a lord, had been the finishing touch to the scene.
Because redemption Eric could so easily give, the moment he accepted his place, his throne, and truly embraced the Path of Rulers all but thrust upon him. With his wise and ancient mother by his side, her words of wisdom and council all he needed to best his foes and, eventually, claim this world as his own.
Eric snorted, gazing at all the frozen characters to his mother’s masterful performance, sharing a bemused smile with his sister, the only two not frozen in ice and time.
“Because I have no interest in being bound by chains of iron… or trapped in a cage of gold.” He flashed a mirthless smile. “As unbelievably awful as the end of the world as been, at least I can say I’ve managed to escape the 9-5 cubical hell of a regimented life. And I sure as hell didn’t survive all the trials and tribulations thrown my way just to be chained to the top of that same damned cubicle by a ruler’s obligations.”
Eric winked at his positively beaming sister, though his mother looked the farthest thing from amused. “I mean, come on, mom. US presidents, the most powerful people in the world? Why is it that nearly all of them look 10 years older when they finally leave office after just a single term? Physically aged by juggling the needs and demands of an entire nation. They might be revered, even feared, but is any president, any ruler, truly free?”
Eric adamantly shook his head. “Sure, you get to live a cushy pad with everyone bowing their heads in deference, but you truly are a servant to your territory, desperate to meet the needs of however many people are bowing in your honor, before flooding your administration with so many demands, it’s absolutely mind boggling. Trust me, I know that just from all the strategy games you so loved seeing me an Elonia play. Constantly. Trade, finance, and diplomacy... juggling limited funds and resources, dealing with unexpected demands popping up left and right, constantly! And of course that included equipping and managing an ever-growing military. All of which amounts to one fucking major headache I’d rather avoid. For like… ever.”
Aurelia’s gaze grew wider with disbelief with each word that escaped his lips. She looked outright flummoxed, which pleased Eric far more than it should have, to think he had finally gotten the best of his five steps ahead of everyone else mother.
“Eric Silver! I’m giving you the chance to rule, to savor the heights of power, of glory, the sheer savage delights of an entire world’s population bowing before you! Where nothing is forbidden and everything is permitted, so long as your realm meets quotas and profits we shall agree upon, together!”
His mother’s gaze grew intent. He almost thought he heard just a trace of desperation in her voice. “Think on it, my son. Your wildest fantasies of power, of dominion over all your friends and foes! To gaze upon an army of crimson soldiers all saluting you, fist to chest! Eric Silver! Their King, their ruler, their god! Your dread legions stretching as far as the eye can see! Your ascension to Bronze, even Silver, utterly assured as you savor a ruler’s mantel, a king’s class, an eternal lord’s power!”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Are you truly such a fool as to choose instead the jester’s robes, the beggar’s arrogance? To cast off the trappings of endless power, unlimited prestige, for the pleasure of going slumming in random delves and piss-poor backwater towns? To slay a few haunts, impregnate a few slatterns? Is that truly the limit of your aspirations, your dreams?”
Eric clenched his jaw, refusing to let anger compel his words. Wondering, fearing, if too loud a protest, too forceful a declaration, would be clasped onto as oaths of commitment by an ancient fae, a Winter Queen who had been playing him from the very moment he had set first foot in this territory, however dire her faction’s circumstances had truly been. And she was no doubt playing him still, as nine hundred pairs of desperately staring eyes frozen in eternal ice made exquisitely clear.
So Eric swallowed down the bile in his throat, and met his mother’s gaze once more.
Feeling a shiver in his soul when he saw, so clearly, the calculating tactician behind the anxious worry of a mother’s disbelieving gaze.
He flashed her a sad smile. “I wish to be free. As I define freedom. Not as you, or any other Faerie Queen, might.” He quickly said before she could twist his words to fit her own purposes, or simply punish him for his daring.
He took a deep breath, before turning to Elonia. “And you already have a queen. One tempered by the wisdom of her own follies and triumphs, who knows what it means to inspire and to lead, and what it means to work hard, sacrifice, and redeem oneself, against all odds.”
He bowed his head, in genuine respect for his sister. “I am and will always remain a Free Agent. I will swear allegiance to no one. But Elonia will always have my respect, and my vote of confidence. If you’re looking for a ruler with your blood singing through her veins, someone who’s already proven herself a capable commander and more than willing to put up with your… eccentricities, you already have her, standing dutifully by your side.”
He flashed his sister a gentle smile before meeting his mother’s gaze once more. “Maybe this time, you won’t throw her away so cheaply.”
Her mother’s glare would have frozen the sun.
Eric gave her his widest shit-eating grin, more than protected by the dimensional rift separating them through that mirror.
His sister, wisely, said nothing, bowing to the waist when her mother arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow her way.
“You were right, my daughter. Your brother, for all his absurd strengths, enjoys playing the fool far too much to ever be the ruler we need.”
She kissed her daughter’s brow. “I deem your probation complete and your performance acceptable, despite your significant character flaws. Save for a single lapse, your character judgment has been impeccable.” She flashed a hard smile. “And save for goblinoid assassins, even their numbers carefully controlled by the powers that be, and nine already fallen to your brother’s blaster and blade, none have successfully countered the force and fury of your greatest spells. But a single vice we now keep tightly controlled, you have successfully avoided enticements I have noted many would-be courtiers attempting to ply you with at the negotiating table. And elsewhere, of course.”
A trembling Elonia flushed brightly, but refused to look away. “It is as you say, Mother. I have devoted myself to my tutors and my studies. I have learned well from the bitter lessons of childhood follies. I have savored our victories. And I will always take the counsel of my commander and empress to heart. I live for our kingdom, and I would die for it as well.”
Words that caused the world around them to shudder and warp, in ways Eric suspected he could sense only because he was himself a world away.
“On your head, so mote it be,” their mother whispered.
And how cold was the chill racing down Eric’s spine as Elonia slowly kneeled before their mother.
Who did absolutely nothing to harm her lastborn child, instead gifting her with a tiara of diamonds and silver-white gold.
“Rise, Champion. My heir, and Earth’s newest queen. Fight well for our cause, and for our people.”
Eric felt a lurch in his gut when his mother gazed his way once more, her bemused smile turning his wildest musings to iron-hard certainty.
Even this, Aurelia had predicted.
A stubborn son.
A reluctant daughter forced into yet another role that was more than she could bear. Only to find how fiercely she missed and craved the power and prestige she had thought such a burden, when it was abruptly torn from her grasp. Only now, at the cusp of losing absolutely everything, did she appreciate and hunger for that which she had once yearned to escape. A divine obligation she would now strive forevermore to measure up to. A queen worthy of the crown of diamonds and gold upon her brow.
She would die for it.
Kill for it.
And with her brother’s outright refusal to claim that crown after so casually showing off his own exceptional power, smashing open the barriers between worlds, revealing a treasure trove of knowledge in the form of a heritage library thought lost to time, Elonia’s position had never been stronger, her position never more secure.
Because after single-handedly breaking an Orsinian siege and obliterating their foes, Eric had just made it abundantly clear that he could never be used against her. And Elonia would never doubt his love and devotion to her, or his complete disdain for any schemes or attempts to claim what she now held so tightly, so fiercely, to her bosom and soul.
Somehow, Eric didn’t doubt that the entire world would soon hear rumors about the utter obliteration of at least a good portion of the orc federation, and the fierce tiger with thirteen thousand legions at his beck and call that his sister could bring to bear, should anyone dare to cross her, ever again.
A tiger who had just opened a genuine portal between worlds, and could never be played against his own.
He flashed his mom a bemused smile, giving the tiniest tilt of his head.
Finally understanding that his mother had been playing them both from the start.
“Well played, Mother.”
The twinkle in her eyes was, perhaps, the only answer she would ever give. The words he sensed merely implied with the tiniest of nods. “You as well, my son.”
“Thank you, Eric!” Elonia’s voice, now echoing through his skull, so filled with relief, happiness, and heartfelt gratitude, warmed his heart. The connection between their souls was somehow stronger than ever, for all that he was a world away. Or perhaps Elonia was just a hell of a lot stronger than even he had realized.
Truly their mother’s heir.
Eric grinned, now truly feeling like she was right beside him, her features joyful yet troubled, and of course she looked absolutely adorable against the backdrop of the starry night sky, majestic in ways that sent shivers through his soul. “You’re welcome. And now I’m going to check out what should be a veritable city’s worth of forgotten wisdom and lore, perhaps the closest thing to a heritage library our clan will ever enjoy on Earth,” he thought to his twin.
Elonia chuckled throatily. “Isn’t that the truth.” She sighed, her gaze turning maudlin. “So much has happened, Eric. So much I’d love to share with my other half. But with thirteen thousand revenants now marching to your command… I guess I don’t have to tell you just how much the world’s changed.”
Eric flashed his sister a cheeky grin he knew she could feel in her heart as he continued racing up endless steps of liquid silver, eyes glimpsing the wonder of a massive nebulae all the colors of the rainbow, bejeweled with starts that twinkled like a magnificent crown. Vast in ways that absolutely boggled the mind. For just a heartbeat in time, it seemed almost as if he gazed upon the countenance of an ancient queen who had ascended in ways no mortal could hope to comprehend. Both beautiful and terrifying. He wasn’t quite sure how his environment was sustaining baseline temperature and air pressure on this staircase, but he thought it best not to linger for too long.
“My life’s sort of in your hands, Elonia. Because Queensland truly is yours, body and soul. Which means you, and you alone, control the flow of time here.”
He could sense his sister’s cheeky smile. “You’ve done enough, brother mine. So maybe I’ll let you sit snug as a bug until the Earth’s at peace, and I’ve ascended and learned to balance my twelve nodes and master my awful essence and the constant pain it brings me. Then I will need no chemical crutch, ever again. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get to see me happily married, with the entire world kneeling at my feet.”
She chuckled softly in his mind. “You’ll get to see me as the successful, happy, and powerful woman I always wanted to be. Then all you’ll have to worry about is helping to babysit your future nephews and nieces.”
Eric laughed. “Changing diapers. Definitely a Bronze Tier challenge, righ there.” His mental humor turned serious. “Elonia, are you okay? I mean I know about...” he winced. “I can tell you’re using again. I can sense the regret you feel. Aren’t there spells that can numb the pain?”
He winced at the pained delay in her response. “It’s been rough, Eric. That damned pod… let’s just say I now have an affinity for the Essence of Pain itself, whether I like it or not. Which is damned useful for crippling orcs. But not so good for a girl like me. And no, Eric. Soul Essence trumps all other magic. The only relief I have is the one I once craved for far stupider reasons. Because even after a year of being completely sober, my body, my mind, still remembers the echo of that relief so well that it’s able to trump the Essence of Pain. The only thing able to trump the Essence of Pain. For a while, at least.”
Eric winced, sensing the frustration and shame she was hiding beneath her forced cheer. Though muted considerably with the fierce sense of triumph she felt, having finally secured her crown.
“But don’t worry. This girl is nothing like the fifteen year old idiot who tried to get to know her characters just a bit too well. I take just enough to get well. Pain relief only. No fucking bullshit euphoria.” She chuckled bitterly. “Okay, I won’t lie. Having a healer carefully measuring the dose and noting my every tell as the medicine’s administered right before bedtime takes away whatever thrill I might otherwise… surrender to. And feel guilty as hell about later.”
He sensed his sister forcing a mental smile, doing her best to embrace the positive.
“But that’s okay. The wild rush of casting and channeling magic, mastering the elements, is the only high I’m chasing now. God, Eric. If only you knew what it was like to blast a hundred charging kobholds with a storm of lightning, watching those little shits explode like fireworks! Or to feel the northern winds embracing you like a lover’s caress before freezing a hill giant to solid ice! Or to float in the middle of a tornado, where the low keening wail you once dreaded is instead your own glorious call as you shred enemy troops and entire towns to kindling, with the power of Mother Nature’s fiercest storms shivering through your soul!”
Eric grinned. “That sounds like a far greater rush than any bump of white could ever be, that’s for sure.”
His sister snorted. “Damn right. And you’re no one’s bitch, hungry for a fix, after too many weeks of partying. Instead you’re a queen, towering above them all. Because I gotta be honest, wearing this crown is more than a little bit awesome. Thank you, brother. If it weren’t for you, I think I’d still be on probation with mother dearest until I hit level 100. And I didn’t say it already, I love you bunches and I’ve always got your back.”
“Likewise, sis.”
“No, I mean it, Eric. You went through fire to save my ass, and raised up an entire army right when I needed a miracle. Best of all, when my bitch queen mother thought I wasn’t good enough to rule, my twin gave her the middle finger, and me back my throne.”
Eric grinned at her visualization of a massive thumbs up, and a heart sign.
“So, yeah. Life’s been rough, but I do have the best freekin’ brother in the world on my side. Even if he can’t actually be on my team, because he’s walking some seriously crooked paths. Which I of course support 100%”
“Crimson and crooked like you wouldn’t believe,” he snarked back. “Elonia? Seriously. I hope you’ll let me out as soon as it let’s you, whatever mom says.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Rica is sort of in trouble. Locked up in whatever the hell passes for a prison in Freetown. She and her family, and my very first Blue Corp contact, Caliban, who did me a serious solid that put him in jeopardy and is now definitely on my friend list, are my absolute top priority. Right under you.”
Elonia gasped. “Oh jeez. Eric, I had no idea! Rica seems like such a sweet girl, smiling so beautifully when holding her little baby girl. And she’s totally your type. I swear, Eric, Mother was a saint while we were there. The perfect future mother-in-law. Until, well, the moment you made that call. I knew right then that Mother had gotten just a bit too intense. Rica was still pale as a sheet, even after I gave her back Ria and scooted Mother out of there as fast as I could. You don’t think...”
Eric shook his head. “I’ve been trapped in a cultivation realm for months, only popping out a few days ago, and you know what I’ve been doing since then.” He sighed. “I don’t even know what exactly went down. Really, I’m just a guy she knew for a handful of days before life’s storms and bullshit forced us apart again. But still…
“You cared for her.”
Eric nodded, grateful to see the stairs finally coming to an end as he approached a massive silver door with runes of gold etched into the surface. “I did. A lot. I still do. Enough that I can’t help but wonder, if things had been different, if I had met her in college...”
“I get it, Eric. It’s okay.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “So, yeah. As soon as I’m done here, it’s straight to Freetown, and you’d better believe I’ll be crying havoc and letting loose the hounds of war.”
“Roger that. Good luck, brother. I’ll let you free as soon as I can. I promise.”
Eric smiled. “Thank you, sis. And hey, when you get the chance, check out your interdimensional heritage city of a library. You might find some things here that are somehow just perfect for you. Both for your elementalist path, and for the Pain Essence that, right now, is kicking your ass.”
He sensed a sudden surge of excitement, a flood of questions in addition to his mother’s increasingly insistent knocking upon his psyche, all fading to a frozen moment in time as his finger caressed the massive door arching a good twenty feet above his head. An endless pause, an eyeblink in time, and the portal leading into the heart of a city no doubt filled with knowledge, lore, and endless wonders beyond his imagination slowly opened wide before him.
Eric lurched back in surprise, only to see a reflection of himself, gazing back at him with those same wonder-filled eyes.
He took a deep breath, both savoring and dreading this moment and all it stood for, before forcing himself to take that first bold step through his own reflection, to face whatever glorious discoveries or nightmare horrors might be waiting for him just beyond.
Comments
Goldfish2
When it said kingdom I thought it make a permanent undead army guarding it…but knew it wouldn’t happen seeing the second part of a queen.
Silver Beard
You could have jousted to just outside the territory to have the Mum Conversation... used his blood magic to close up his ears and sprinted away to another territory...him and his army... why couldn't he have done that?
