by Aaron Oster
“No need to be so grim,” Katherine said, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’re well-prepared and forearmed with knowledge. The last time, we caught this too late, and as a result, we were nearly destroyed. This time, though, we caught it early. We may be able to wipe out this new Pinnacle King’s army, track them down and block them from getting any new minions.”
“Yeah,” Le’vine added, smiling at the worried man. “We won’t let what happened in the North happen here.”
Kiln nodded slowly, looking out over the wall of sand approaching at an astonishing speed.
“For all our sakes, I hope you’re right.”
22
Morgan awoke to a ringing in his ears that was all too familiar. The ringing was, of course, accompanied by a throbbing headache and an inability to focus, though, even as he forced himself upright, he could feel the ache receding. One of the many upsides that his traits provided was the ability to heal. His Recovery Max would restore him to full health in just a few hours, no matter how serious the injury.
It also began the healing process much sooner, healing him as time passed. When he’d first received the trait, he’d had to wait the full span of time before the injury would heal, and Morgan found that he much preferred this version.
He winced as he forced himself up. When he tried to move his hand to his head, he heard the distinct rattle of chains and found his arm stopped several inches away. Forcing his eyes open, he blinked several times, allowing his vision of focus on his surroundings. He was in a cell, the walls made of a translucent violet material that he suspected was reiki. Both his arms and legs were wrapped in heavy manacles, with chains made of reddish-black metal.
The chains seemed to be attached to the ground – which was made of a bluish-black metal – merging seamlessly instead of being bolted down. He was bare-chested as well, his Spatial bag gone, along with his spear and all of his armor. In fact, the only clothes he’d been allowed to retain were his underwear.
He grunted, tugging on the chains a few times, and felt that they were quite sturdy. He might be able to break through them later, but right now, he was too weak to make such an attempt.
There were still several broken bones that had yet to heal. His head throbbed in pain, and he could feel more than a few torn muscles and ligaments. His spine felt quite stiff as well, and the memory of slamming into a boulder reminded him of why that was.
“Don’t think you’re going to escape, human.”
Morgan had heard the elf enter, though he hadn’t even bothered looking up. If they’d wanted him dead, they’d have killed him while he was out. He had no obligations to be courteous, one way or the other.
“This cell was specially designed to hold one of your kind. It’s impenetrable and unbreakable.”
Morgan snorted out a laugh at that, finally looking up to the elf in question. He was about average as far as he could tell for this race and was dressed in immaculate, gleaming armor. A winged helm framed his face, which was pinched in both disgust and anger. The crutch he had clutched under one arm, as well as the heavily bandaged leg, explained the anger, though the disgust was something he simply couldn’t understand.
Morgan also had no idea how this elf could hate someone he’d never met this much.
“You think that’s funny?” the elf snapped, hobbling forward on his crutch and glaring at him.
“Yes, actually,” Morgan replied, pushing himself up further against the single beam in the center of the cell. “The fact that you think anything is unbreakable is laughable.”
The elf gritted his teeth, clearly wanting to do nothing more than come in and teach him the lesson he so desperately deserved. However, he had a feeling that removing that special wall would make this entire cage far less effective. If Morgan was right, he probably didn’t want to be touching them with his bare hands. Supermage or not, reiki would still be very damaging, especially if someone had managed to craft it into something as unique as a cage for supermages. He was really curious as to how it had been made.
He could probably bust out if he were in better shape, but others might not be able to. If, for example, he could make a stronger version of this, he could hold anyone. Not only supermages but perhaps even gods.
The elf let out a disgusted snort, then took a few steps back.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see you breaking out of here, human filth. Not alive, anyway.”
He then spat on the floor and hobbled out of the room, practically slamming the door behind him and shaking the entire room.
Morgan let out a sigh as he left, slumping even further against the pole and wondering where he could be. Seeing as he was in elven custody, he had to assume it was somewhere in one of their cities. Either that, or he was in a dungeon of some sort. Though, if he were the elves, he wouldn’t have placed someone as dangerous as him where he could potentially free other prisoners. He was also sure of something else.
The elf who’d just left, while strong enough to bring him in – albeit with Morgan being very disoriented and concussed – did not have the brainpower or forethought to set the trap he’d walked into. No, whoever had laid out that particular plan was careful, cunning and had an agenda. That was the only reason he could rationalize for them to leave him alive. All he had to do now was wait. In the meantime, though, he had something else that needed tending to.
Pulling his legs up and crossing them underneath himself as best he could, Morgan closed his eyes. He could feel it almost immediately, the pull of the spear and the direction in which her consciousness was flowing. She was a good distance from him, but due to the blood and hair woven into her makeup, Morgan could call her back, even from halfway across the world.
Of course, the spear wasn’t quite that far, though it did give him a good idea as to how far he’d been taken since his capture. This told Morgan yet another thing about the elves. One of them could either teleport or open portals, as – judging by his injuries – he’d only been out a couple of hours. Either that or they also had some sort of Portal Scroll or system that allowed fast travel between spaces.
He could hear the spear calling to him, whispering in his mind. Once more, he felt as though she were trying to say something, but he couldn’t quite understand what it was. Her voice was still dim, her consciousness slow and disparate, and every time he thought she was about to say something, her mind drifted off once more.
Still, even now, with the spear’s consciousness slow as it was, Morgan could understand what she was doing. She was calling out to him, begging to be summoned, and he was going to oblige.
Come to me, Morgan thought, pulling on his connection to the spear.
Miles away, the ground beneath the massive crater trembled and shattered as a gleaming length of silvery-blue metal exploded from the earth. Its entire length glowed with an inner sheen, surrounded by a halo of green light. The spear rotated slowly until the tip was pointing directly east. Then, it took off in a flash, leaving a streak of green in its wake.
***
Elyssa watched the human through the glass on the far side of the room. Getting this special cell set up in the underground portion of her palace had taken days of personal effort. As the only supermage in the vicinity, she’d been forced to expel so much of her own reiki that she’d very nearly killed herself. The only way she’d managed to keep her body in one piece had been by consuming copious amounts of food, liquor and sleeping for an entire day straight once she was done.
Even after that, it had taken her healers a further twelve hours to get her back to stable condition, and another twenty-four to get her back to a mostly normal state. Even now, she could feel the weakness in her knees, back and legs. They twinged with every movement, though she didn’t show so much as a hint of discomfort as Gilderon stumped out of the room.
He was not happy that he’d needed to bring the human in alive. He was even less happy that he’d lost so many good soldiers in doing so. Elyssa was honestly shocked that things had gotten so
out of hand. From studying his abilities and skills, she’d come up with the best solution to take him down. Even with all the careful planning and Gilderon getting involved himself, they’d still nearly lost.
In fact, had Morgan not been as concussed as he had, she had a feeling that Gilderon would now be dead, and she’d be beside herself with both guilt and regret. She’d been lucky, and they’d managed to bring the human back alive. Gilderon had been unable to find that marvelous spear, which she was something that she was still very much annoyed about.
“I still don’t understand why you had me bring him back here,” Gilderon said as she stomped over to her.
She wasn’t worried about the human overhearing, as the room had been soundproofed, but Gilderon’s tone was – for once – not very respectful.
“Like I said,” Elyssa replied, tucking a lock of hair behind one of her ears. “He holds the key to stopping this war before it happens.”
“What the hell makes you think that you can reason with that?” Gilderon demanded, gesturing to the human. “He killed twenty-four of my best elves, and without even putting much effort into the task! Even now, he shows no remorse for his actions and doesn’t even seem bothered by his capture. Just look at him, calm as anything, as though he knows something we don’t. If you were smart, you would kill him and remove the risk he poses. Both to you and to the elven race as a whole!”
Gilderon did make several valid points. Had Elyssa not personally witnessed the fight between him and the goddess, as well as overheard their conversation after, she might have thought the same. However, she had access to knowledge that her head commander did not. She knew that his people didn’t want a war and that he wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the legends had made his race out to be.
Of course, she was still cautious. It was one thing to know a person’s intentions. It was quite another to trust a complete stranger, especially one as powerful as him, so far as to let them loose in your capital city. Especially after being brought in the way he had, and after having been separated from his partner and his beast.
“Was it really necessary to strip him down like that?” she asked, running her eyes over the human’s impressive figure.
“It was,” Gilderon said simply, still glaring at the human in question.
“Well, you won’t hear me complaining,” Elyssa muttered, really taking the time to appreciate the view.
Sure, she had no interest in being tied down. She was her own woman. But, if she absolutely had to marry, she preferred a man who was…well…manly. The elven men were all far too waifish for her liking, and the beastmen didn’t have anyone suitable. This human appeared to be different than the female human, as he looked far more beastly than she would have guessed.
Her leading theory at the moment was that he had some beast blood running through his veins. A human and beast must have mated at some point, and he was the result. She hadn’t thought something like that could even be possible, but stranger things had happened. Besides, races intermarried all the time in Faeland, so her ideas of possible probably needed to be reimagined.
She looked him over for another minute, enjoying the view and hoping against hope that he would be willing to listen to her proposal.
“So, how do I look?” she asked, whirling in place and flipping her long hair back with her fingers.
Gilderon scowled, looking her up and down. He was clearly not happy with what was about to happen.
“Are you going to answer me, or not?” she asked, hardening her voice.
Gilderon didn’t know what to say. Elyssa had been acting very strange recently, as in, like a mature and thinking adult, rather than the spoiled princess he knew her to be. It was so very unlike her that he honestly didn’t know what to make of it. But, as her head guard and caretaker, it was his duty to do as he was told and not ask questions. It was why he’d even agreed to this insane plan in the first place, instead of immediately shooting her down.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” he said.
Elyssa’s eyes narrowed, the large white and purple orbs drilling into him.
Gilderon cleared his throat nervously a couple of times, before giving his reply.
“You look nice,” he muttered.
“Good,” she replied, smoothing down the front of her gown. “That was all I needed to hear.”
She patted him lightly on the shoulder, adjusted the red tiara clipped into her hair, then pulled the door open and strode purposefully into the room.
23
Morgan’s eyes snapped open as the door swung open once again. He was honestly surprised he was getting another visitor so soon. His experience with being captured usually consisted of long wait times between interrogations. The woman who walked in carried a regal air about her – likely because of the way she was carrying herself, as well as the crown perched upon her brow – and seemed to radiate a sense of surety that only those with power could manage.
She was a good deal taller than the other elves he’d come across, though she was no giant by any means. She wasn’t even five feet and had a slight build. Her eyes were swept back like a cat’s, and she had a shimmering mane of silver-blue hair. Morgan briefly wondered if she’d dyed it, as he was sure Grace would love the color, but then remembered that the hair colors of the other elves had been quite odd as well.
The woman or girl – Morgan couldn’t tell if she was an adult or not – stopped just a couple of feet away from his cage, scrutinizing him like a prized animal of some sort. He might have been embarrassed by his state of undress, but he was too interested in what she had to say. Even without seeing the crown or fine clothes, he’d have assumed she was the one in charge, just by the way she carried herself, and he was sure he’d want to hear what she had to say.
“My name is Elyssa,” the woman said, her voice light but still deep enough to tell him that she was either full-grown or close to it.
She paused as though waiting for him to reply. When he didn’t say anything, she simply forged right ahead.
“I am the queen of these lands. In fact, I am the queen of the entire elven race.”
“And what exactly do you want from me?” Morgan asked.
He was dealing with the head of one of the factions set against the Five Kingdoms, so not talking now would be detrimental. When he broke out, it could either be with valuable information or nothing at all, and talking would get him the information that the humans so desperately needed.
However, Elyssa’s answer came so far out of nowhere that it stunned him into silence.
“I want to end the war before it begins.”
Morgan stared at her, trying to hide the complete and utter shock from his face. The elves didn’t want the war to happen? When he thought about it logically, it made sense. He didn’t want the war, so why would the people here want one? Something as simple as the disappearance of a barrier shouldn’t immediately spark a conflict.
“As much as I’d like to believe you’re being truthful, your actions have been far from friendly so far,” Morgan replied.
“Yours weren’t either,” Elyssa said, not missing a beat. “You killed twenty-four of my soldiers and broke my caretaker’s leg before coming here. If anything, you are the one who’s been hostile.”
“If you want to invite someone over for a conversation, perhaps you shouldn’t send soldiers with the invitation,” Morgan replied.
“Would you have listened to a messenger if I had sent one?” she asked.
“Yes, actually,” Morgan replied. “Contrary to your people’s way of thinking, we’re not a bunch of savages hellbent on your destruction. We didn’t start this war, and we were not the ones to throw the first punch.”
Elyssa seemed a bit taken aback by his answer, though she visibly worked to keep the expression from her face and posture. Morgan had become quite adept at reading people, even without his Aura Sense, and to him, it was clear that this woman was a lot less sure of herself than she was pretending.
> “Well, I guess I should apologize for that,” she finally said. “I would offer to bring in a healer, but I don’t know if I trust you enough to let you out just yet. Besides, it seems you have a pretty potent healing ability, as most of your serious wounds have already closed up.”
“I don’t see any point in keeping me in here,” Morgan said, shifting a bit in place and rattling the chains. “It’s not like this place can really hold me.”
“I’ve seen your power firsthand, during your fight with the goddess,” Elyssa said.
“Oh? I was unaware of anyone watching,” Morgan replied.
“The king of the dwarves, Ragnar, set up a live-viewing construct so all of the leaders could watch your fight. I was the only one who stuck around after the two of you flew off.”
“So, you do know how strong I am, then,” Morgan said, cursing inwardly that every ruler of Faeland now knew of his abilities. “What makes you think that this cage can hold me?”
The corner of Elyssa’s mouth quirked up ever so slightly at that.
“Even as strong as you are, this prison was designed specially to keep supermages bound. The manacles keep you locked in place, and the reiki barrier stops you from using any skills.”
What Elyssa didn’t know – couldn’t know – was that Morgan was far from an ordinary supermage. He had the power of the Beast King protecting him, and although he was still weakened from his fight, he had more than enough power to tear his way free. Either that, or he could simply teleport away before she could so much as blink. However, so long as he was here, and at her ‘mercy,’ he had to keep pumping her for information.
“And how exactly would you know that this prison can hold a supermage?” Morgan probed.
“Because,” Elyssa replied, her entire body becoming shrouded in violet light. “I tested it on myself.”
Morgan couldn’t say that he was completely surprised by the fact that the leader of a far-off country was a supermage. If any of the other leaders back home were, especially the Queen of the South, he didn’t doubt they’d try to pull what Edmund, the former king of the North, had and take over the entire continent.
