by Todd Herzman
This all might be for nothing—who knows how Jakob truly broke free of his binding?
But something about this felt right. There was something… out there. Something that could hear him.
There had to be.
Huon surged fearlessness and shut his eyes, pushing his will into the universe, hoping he was right.
If you set me free, I swear to pay any price.
The very thought would have sent a shudder of fear through him, were his emotions not dulled by the surge.
Huon opened his eyes.
Nothing had changed.
Of course nothing changed. The pain blurred his vision. This was the longest he’d ever fought the binding. He could feel its essence, now—the binding’s essence. It grew stronger the longer he resisted.
He exhaled, and let the binding take back control of him. As he walked toward his Squad, the pain dissipated. Jamison stared at him as he arrived, but no one else seemed to notice or care about his delay in joining them.
Champion Jesalla droned on about their orders, but Huon found it difficult to concentrate on her words.
Every thud of the war drums pounded against his mind.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I swear to pay any price.
He blinked, tried to focus, staring straight ahead in a ready position, but his vision blurred again—why? He was no longer in any pain.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
‘… cannot spare time for mercy in this fight, we have been commanded to be ruthless…’
Thud. Thud. Thud.
‘… the Everlasting King himself will be here, observing the battle, entering it if need…’
Thud. Thud. Thud—
All noise ceased.
Everything stilled.
Huon scrunched his eyes shut, then opened them again. Jesalla wasn’t moving… none of his Squad, no one, in the entire camp, was moving.
Huon surged breath, lest it come too fast. He took a step. He could move.
What in the world was going on?
Even the flags atop the tents were frozen where they’d flowed in the wind.
Huon looked down at himself. He’d felt like this once before, or close to it—when he’d surged Immortal-level essence. But he wasn’t surging—he even felt inside his core and secondary core to make sure, not that he could surge this powerfully.
For a long moment—if moments passed while time was frozen—Huon just stood there, staring around at all the unmoving people. His heart beat against his chest like the war drums he could no longer hear—thud, thud, thud. He was frozen too—frozen in fear.
He stopped surging breath, and exhaled long and slow.
What was there to be afraid of? This must be a dream, right? Though he’d never had a dream like this before—he’d had nightmares, of course. Nightmares of all the horrible things that had happened to him in his life… but this? This had never happened to him before.
Then it must be real.
He was about to start walking, to try and find someone who wasn’t frozen still, when a voice spoke behind him. A deep, powerful voice—the words hit him in his bones and shook his core.
Any price?
The words didn’t seem to be spoken aloud—no, they met him in his mind.
Huon turned around, devoid of thought, devoid of anything but fear. He looked inside, scouring his core for a drop of fearlessness essence, but he’d just used the last of it.
A man stood in the middle of the war camp, less than five steps from Huon. He was tall—as tall as the Immortal of Strength. He wore what looked to be simple robes of dark green, with no symbols emblazoned on them, and held what would have been a simple bo staff, if not for the intricate runes carved into its wood—symbols Huon’s mind couldn’t recognise nor decipher.
Slowly, Huon’s gaze rose to look at the man’s face.
He looked… ordinary. No older than thirty, perhaps, with a shortly cropped beard and a neutral expression.
Huon’s mouth was drier than it had ever been. This man may look ordinary, but his very presence was unnerving. To be powerful enough to… what? Stop time? He must be—
More than an Immortal.
It took a moment for Huon to realise the man was waiting for him to speak. That’s right. He’d asked a question. Huon swallowed, then opened his mouth. Thoughts came back to his mind as he did. Any price—any price to be free. ‘Yes,’ he finally said, the word rasping out of his throat.
The man tilted his head back. There was a hint of a smile on the side of his lips. Interesting. He idly looked around the war camp. Would you like to hear the price?
Huon bit the inside of his cheeks, then nodded slowly.
There are only two ways I can break an oath binding, and only one way I will. He looked Huon in the eye. I sense much potential in you, despite your… many weaknesses. He tilted his head to the side. Tell me, have you ever heard of a soul binding?
Huon shook his head. Soul binding… What had he gotten himself into?
It is a tool used only by those who have achieved a rank higher than that of an Immortal. He looked about the camp again, this time with a sour expression. Bindings are supposed to be voluntary, but here they have been corrupted, used for the wrong purposes. My kind are not supposed to… directly interfere with such matters in primitive places such as these. Your problems are your own—that is part of life. However, as with all aspects of life, there are exceptions. Loopholes. He smiled, and it felt strange. It didn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Soul bindings.
Huon’s mouth fell open, and words came out unbidden. ‘You want my soul?’
A deep chuckle reverberated through Huon’s mind. No. A soul binding is no devil’s bargain. A soul binding is a mutually beneficial situation. And, more importantly, a soul binding cancels out an oath binding. He pointed to Huon’s wrist. You will once again have free will.
Huon’s forehead creased. Freedom. It sounded like an impossibility, too good to be true. Huon’s eyes widened briefly. ‘Did you set my father free?’
For the first time since Huon had seen the man, he looked slightly taken aback, though he composed himself in less than a second’s time. I have not been to this side of your little world in over a thousand years. He looked into the distance. Hmm. There are other Celestials at work… that may complicate matters for you.
Your little world… Celestials… These words stood out—Huon should be curious about them, should ask more, but that was not what was on his mind. ‘Will I become strong? Will… will the binding make me better?’
All will become clear once you agree.
‘All I have to do is say… yes?’ This felt… far too easy. Celestials… Was that the man’s rank? It must be. Huon looked at his binding. Any price. It had been the truth when he’d said it, but the… Celestial, wasn’t making the price of things clear. A soul binding, if anything, sounded worse than an oath binding. ‘My binding will disappear, just like that?’
Yes. Though… there will be a great deal of pain. He tilted his head again. You should be able to handle it—even at your low level of advancement.
Pain. That was a price he’d pay easily. But there must be more to it than that. ‘Is a soul binding… forever?’
No.
Huon’s shoulders relaxed, ever so slightly.
One day, chances are, you will die.
Death… Death will be my only escape. But what other choice did Huon have? Freedom from being oathbound… it was what he’d wished for—not only today, but every day. What if this is worse? ‘Why me? What do you get out of this?’
A portion of all the essence you cultivate will go to me. And, I get an aspect of your soul.
Huon took a step back. The essence, he could deal with… but this? ‘You said this wasn’t a demon’s bargain.’
And I told the truth. He spread his hands wide. The choice is your own.
‘What will it do to me? Will… will I still be me?�
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You will always remain you. As to what it will do? It is… different for everyone. Sometimes the affect is small, sometimes it is not. Make your choice, Huon. I cannot linger here long without alerting the other Celestials of my presence.
Huon once again stared at his binding—not that he could see it through his armour. This… this was all he wanted. To be free. And he had said he would pay any price.
He just wished he knew what that price was.
This is how Jakob became free, isn’t it? This is how he became strong. Sixteen years ago, Jakob had been an Honourbound Knight just like Huon was now, and now the man was capable of defeating the Immortal of Fire…
Jakob wasn’t only strong, though. He was cold. If this truly was how he’d become free, had he lost an aspect of his soul too?
Was that how he’d become so cruel?
Huon gulped. You will always remain you. That’s what the man, the Celestial, had said.
He looked around the war camp, wondering about what he’d thought earlier, about the Immortal of Earth dying in battle… that would get him out of this.
But it wouldn’t happen. It had been a dream. A fool’s hope.
The Immortals had been alive for… over a thousand years. They would survive this war.
Huon wouldn’t.
And even if he did, he wouldn’t be free. It was one thing to escape the binding of a surgeless, it was another thing entirely to escape the binding of an Immortal.
Soulbound…
Huon closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he was about to make a choice that affected his life, instead of someone else making that choice for him. In this frozen moment, his fate was in his own hands.
Huon opened his eyes, staring up at the Celestial. ‘I’ll do it.’
The Celestial lowered his head. It is done. He clicked his fingers.
Huon’s heart split in two.
Chapter 12
The pain was more than Huon had ever felt.
He doubled over, knees smashing into the ground. He triple-surged stamina—even quadruple-surged it from his secondary core—but nothing he did eased the pain. Huon strained his neck to look up at the man—the Celestial—who had done this to him.
But the man was gone, and the camp was moving again.
The pain spread from his heart to his wrist—to his left wrist, toward the binding.
Then the pain continued.
‘Huon?’ Jamison rushed to him. He knelt on the ground and put a hand on Huon’s shoulder. ‘Huon, are you okay?’
‘What’s happened to him?’ Champion Jesalla said, a frown evident in her voice.
Huon’s vision blurred—as much as it had when he’d been fighting the binding. He tried to look at Jamison, but he could no longer make the man out.
He felt his binding disappearing.
No. Not here. Would the Immortal of Earth feel this? Huon concentrated as hard as he could. Squeezing his eyes shut, he surged his thoughts—his will—into the ether, imagining an image of the Celestial who’d done this to him. You have do get me out of here! I can’t become oathless in this camp!
You are not oathless, Huon. You are soulbound.
I have done all I can. The rest is up to you. This line of communication is temporary. You will not be able to contact me again. Not unless I will it—and you are nowhere near strong enough for me to will it. Good luck, Huon.
You can’t leave me here! Huon surged his thoughts as hard as he could, but no further reply came.
He was on his own.
‘Huon!’ Someone was shaking his shoulders, trying to get his attention. ‘On your feet, soldier!’
A command. Huon surged strength and speed. The pain was still there—working itself around his body. Pain had become familiar—something he could handle. Something he could cope with. It had to be.
But this was different.
This was worse.
A soul binding… this is pain in my soul.
Huon opened his eyes and got to his feet, trying not to make it look like he was struggling any longer. Champion Jesalla was staring at him, concern in her eyes—he’d never seen the woman look like that.
‘What happened to you?’
Huon shook his head. ‘I… I don’t know.’
‘Battle shock,’ Jamison said. The Champion looked at him. He shrugged. ‘It must be.’ He patted Huon on the shoulder. ‘I’ll take care of him.’
Champion Jesalla sighed, then nodded. ‘You’ll have to.’ She gave Huon one last look, then walked away.
When she was out of earshot, Jamison grabbed his arm and whispered to him, ‘What in the world was that?’
Huon opened his mouth, and almost let it slip. Somehow, their friendship had been… coming back, these last few days. Jamison seemed to truly regret his actions. He would escape with me, if he could.
But he couldn’t.
The pain eased, though much of it lingered. Huon had to surge stamina just to stay alert enough to understand what was happening around him—the soul binding, the breaking of the oath binding… they were affecting his very core.
‘I’m just…’ Huon trailed off, trying to think of something to say. He didn’t want to lie to Jamison—but Jamison was oathbound, Honourbound. He’d have no choice but to confess that Huon was free. Gods, he’d probably have to attack him. Then they’d just be back where they started.
Huon looked around. He had an awful feeling. The binding was now broken. When this had happened to Jakob, Huon’s mother had been informed that he’d died during his service.
Was that what it felt like, for the Immortal of Earth? Like Huon was dead? Would he wonder why one of his soldiers just… dropped dead in the middle of the war camp, before the fight had even begun? Huon had no idea—he didn’t even know if oath masters could sense anything through their oath bindings.
The Immortal of Earth was nowhere to be seen.
‘Huon?’ Jamison said.
Huon nodded. ‘I’m fine. Just…’ He looked at the ground. ‘We might die today.’
Jamison nodded. ‘I know.’ He looked back at their lead pair. ‘Jesalla has no hope for us—for any of us.’
Huon nodded numbly. His thoughts were somewhere else, still worried about the Immortal of Earth…
But also worried about what he’d just done. He felt a heavy weight in his chest—a weight he’d never felt before. And more—something… tugged at his core. Whatever connection he’d made with the Celestial, Huon could feel it.
Huon touched the underside of his wrist. He couldn’t see the binding through his armour, but he knew it was now gone. Has something else replaced it?
Maybe the Immortal of Earth couldn’t sense that the bond had been broken, but if someone saw Huon’s wrist… I’ll not take my armour off—not until I’ve escaped.
‘Form your lines!’ a loud voice yelled from somewhere beyond their Squad.
The army was about to move.
The thud of the war drums came back to Huon’s conscious mind.
Nothing had changed.
He may no longer be bound, but how was he to escape, with thousands of Honourbound around him? How was he to escape, when two armies were about to clash?
He had the freedom to walk away, but he wouldn’t make it far.
Huon followed Jamison to the rest of their Squad, who were now on the move, weapons drawn. He drew his own sword, feeling inside of it. Before he slept, he’d cultivated more sharpness essence with a whetstone the blacksmith had given him. The sword had one strike imbued inside, and was full to the brim with strength essence.
I can strike anyone with this now. Then he wondered… would there be any way for him to get a soulthief? He’d seen what they could do—drain a surgecallers essence in one shot. Was that how Jakob drained the Immortal of Fire? He’d used a soulthief on Walker… he must have done the same to Blaze.
Maybe Huon didn’t need to escape on his own—maybe
he could escape with Jamison. Maybe he could free Jamison. If the Immortal of Earth still thought Huon was bound, he wouldn’t suspect the lowly Knight to try and assassinate him.
But that plan… it was too crazy. Too hard to pull off. He didn’t have access to a soulthief, and asking for one would only be suspicious. He looked over at Jamison, still bound, and felt an immense sense of guilt. The man would escape with him, this time.
He should have escaped last time—it’s not my fault he’s bound.
It wasn’t his fault—but the thought brought no comfort. To escape, he would have to abandon Jamison. Probably to his death.
Huon didn’t want to fight in this war. Didn’t want to die in it.
As he surge marched with his Squad, sword in hand, he felt inside the secondary core. He’d surged some of its stamina, even a little of its speed when he’d gotten up, pretending to adhere to Jesalla’s command, but it was still mostly full. He could escape with it—and use the Champion-level speed to do so.
But how?
How would he escape this massive army? They would notice someone simply walking off from its ranks, wouldn’t they?
They would think I was being commanded to do so. Were I still oathbound, they wouldn’t think I was lying if I said the Immortal of Earth himself commanded me to leave… Perhaps I could run a message somewhere?
That plan had some merit, but not enough. First, he would have to get away from his Squad. They, at least, would know he hadn’t been commanded to do such a thing.
Perhaps he would have to wait for the chaos of the battle before escaping.
He wouldn’t have to wait very long.
Though the camp was fortified, the Honourbound army weren’t remaining behind its walls. They were marching through the massive stone gates that had been constructed at the camp’s front.
Why build a fortification if we aren’t going to use it? Huon looked around as he run, seeing many Honourbound Squads still left behind. They weren’t sending the whole army. Only frontline soldiers—probably the newest additions to the Honourbound’s ranks.
The Everlasting King didn’t care how many people he lost. All he cared was that he won. He’d throw as many of his people at the enemy as he needed.
