Unbound

Chapter Three Hundred And Seventy Two – 372

Felix woke still atop the hot sand of that antechamber, and he scrambled madly to his feet though everything in him wanted only to lay down and sleep. Notifications blinked at him, but he forced them away. Instead, he swept the chamber, looking for the monstrosity that had attacked him.

He found instead a frail-looking Yttin huddled in the center of the chamber. Their back was a mess of oversized spider-like legs connected to its spine, each hanging limp in the sand. Their face was uncovered, showing a mouth as wide as their jawline filled with small, sharp teeth and a sharp, hooked nose. Their skin was yellowed like withered parchment, and they were totally and completely nude. They looked at Felix with dull, awe-filled eyes the color of brass.

"I...my Body," they said, in a voice far...flatter than it had just moments before. They trembled. "My curse...it is gone. It is healed."

Felix let loose a relieved breath, sagging with the exhalation. It had worked. He hadn't been sure it would. "The Primordial curse is gone now," Felix said wearily. He felt the last of it drift down into the hungry abyss within him. "You're free. The Beast is gone."

"The Beast..." they muttered. "The Beast..."

Felix tore a piece of web-clotted cloth off the wall and handed it to the shuddering Yttin. They took it gratefully and wrapped it around their waist, but shook their head as they picked up a gruesome bone-mask. It had survived Felix's power. "The Beast remains," they said.

Felix looked around, his senses finding no trace of the Primordial's Essence. "What do you mean? You're better now."

"I was never the Beast," they said.

"I—then what is the Beast?" He pointed at the mask. "The mask?"

"A symbol. A...warning and a promise," the shaman gathered themself and shuffled across the chamber, to where the complex webbing stretched across the walls. "All the message I could preserve from what I had seen in the Weavings."

The shaman ran their hands across the webbing, each string producing a clear, resonant note. The patterns of it were confusing and interconnected in a way that looked like nonsense shapes and connections. "The message fades now, my connection to the Weaving is lost with my abominable form. I am lessened by its leaving...and blessed. My Mind could not take the warp and weft of the gods' Intent."

"What did you see?" Felix asked. He had no interest in getting further involved with the gods, but intel was intel. "Can you remember any of it?"

"Only that the true Beast will come," they whispered, and in the acoustics of the chamber it was like he yelled it. "And the sands will flow as blood."

Cheery.

"What's it mean?" he asked.

The shaman's eyes burned a brilliant copper and his uncovered face twisted into a too-wide smile. "That the ending comes, and we will see the end of this desert, one way or another."

They just get creepier the longer they talk, huh? Out loud, Felix tried a different tack. "I came down here for information. They told me the Beast wished to see me...I assume they think that's you?" The shaman nodded.

"A confusion I was not able to correct them on, not in my previous...state."

"Okay. And you planned to eat me?" The Yttin nodded, seeming unashamed. Felix decided not to take it personally—he had been influenced by a Primordial's flesh curse, after all.

"Information was on the table, of course, I...the desert requires a savage instinct to survive it. Yet you have shown compassion and, impossibly, Skill enough to end my long imprisonment." The shaman dropped to his knees and prostrated himself on the crimson sands. "I will be forever in your debt. I do not know how to repay it, in this life or another."

Felix grunted. "You can start by telling me what you know about the Paladins."

They sat up, and the glow in their eyes was contemplative. "Only that the warriors were seen two days eastward, chasing down one they called a heretic. My people heard them claim it was holing up in Ahkestria."

That's in line with what we figured. I doubt Michael shacked up with Yttins or others like them. Felix scratched his chin, wondering what else he could ask, when the shaman spoke again.

"We have seen this heretic."

"You have?" Felix leaned forward, eager. "Where? Do you know where he is?"

"South to Ahkestria, as the warriors assumed. He was chased by the Cursewinds." They shuddered. "Far too close to the City than ever before."

The Cursewinds sounded like the cyclones of sand and undead monstrosities he'd seen in his visions. "The Cursewinds carries the undead, right? Why doesn't it go near the City?" Felix asked.

"It simply does not. It is how it has always been, since the waters vanished."

So Ages ago. Probably some sort of warding around the city. I know I would have attempted to do something like that if I had airborne zombies flying around. Felix bit the inside of his cheek as he thought. So onward to Ahkestria. Hopefully to find the Unbound there and—

"Will you protect the City?"

Felix frowned at the interruption. "Sorry?"

"You do not like the Paladins. That is clear, even to my muddled Mind. Yet you chase after them. Why?" They tilted their head, a movement so like its former, monstrous self that Felix recoiled. The shaman didn't seem to notice. "Have you professed yourself to the flame? Is that why the gods could not burn you when we fought?"

"What?" He set aside the fact the shaman thought the Primordial was a god and focused on the weirder part of his sentence. "What flame?"

"The light and flame of truth, That Which Burns and fuels the passion of the City for an entire Age."

"Fuels Ahkestria?" Felix felt his stomach sink, just a little. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"An Urge of great strength. A goddess, minor though she be, one of unquestioned power."

"An Urge," Felix muttered. Exactly what he feared coming out of the shaman's mouth. "What's her name?"

"The Highest Flame."

Felix felt a tugging tingle in his memories as connections jolted and sparked behind his eyes. Highest Flame. He knew of only one person to have spoken that name before. Why didn't you tell us, Atar? Or do the others already know? He had to imagine the Paladins hated Ahkestria for the presence of an Urge alone; he'd been told before that the Pathless did not like Urges. The presence of an Unbound hiding among them was reason enough to wage war on the city, apparently.

Complications for later. "And what of your...gods? The one that cursed you? Do you know where it is located?" If Felix could find the Primordial, at the very least he could take steps to give it a wide berth.

The shaman gestured, arms spread wide. "It is here. All around us."

Felix looked at the bones in alarm, but the Shaman only shook his head. "No. The greatest of gods, He who laid my people low Ages ago...it is the desert itself."

"I'm tellin' you, the ground shook," Evie said. She knelt against the sandy slope and stared upward at the black skeleton as the moons set beyond it. "Felix probably got in a fight."

"Perhaps," Vess said. Evie noticed how her gaze lingered over the monstrous ribcage, no matter how she tried to hide it by checking on their troops. "Unless we wish to break hospitality with the Yttins, there is little we can do until he returns."

"And if he doesn't?" Evie nodded at the wagons, now circled up near the Yttin cookfires. "Pit's awful nervous lookin', and his Spirit is a mess."

"You can you feel that?" Vess asked.

"Tch, don't be so surprised. I've got this Affinity thing down pat," Evie said, and it was even sorta true. Her Affinity had grown a lot in the past week, rising by ten whole points. She stood up and dusted sand from her knees. Evie had to be careful, or else her armor would fill with the stuff and it was damn hard to clean out. "Pit feels like two pit vipers in a bag, wrestlin' over each other and bitin' all the while."

"That is...apt," Vess said with a nod. She closed her eyes, focusing on the chimera. "He's concerned, worried, afraid...and there's pain too." She opened her eyes again, and Evie saw a flash of white-green Mana in her pupils. "Ever since Felix left."

"Yeah, and he's been pacin' too, worse since the ground shook. Hence: fight."

The company had circled the wagons and brought all of their soldiers between them for a little rest and meal. That Palin lady was busy—her and her employees were busy cooking up food and handing out drinks to everyone. It wasn't anything much better than trail rations, though they had a little more of that Vulture meat. Evie thought it was a bit gamey, but it filled the belly well enough. As it was, however, she wasn't particularly hungry. That came with advancement, she was happy to find; Evie could go longer without any sustenance at all...but when the bill came due she'd clear out a tavern's stock in a night, or it felt like that at least.

Harn was in the thick of it, talking to the Legionnaires and Henaari, most mostly chatting in low tones with the Hand. Strange allies. She supposed they had training stuff to talk about; Felix's little followers were rough. Damn near got me killed twice yesterday. Damn Apprentice Tiers.

That wasn't entirely fair, but Evie wasn't feeling all that charitable. The company of followers were all dead weight. All except the Henaari and...and the others weren't to be trusted. Everyone was shoved together by Harn and Darius, intermingling despite the tense silence that threaded through the group. Waiting while their illustrious leader did some negotiation. That part at least sat just fine with Evie. If the man wanted a crown, then he'd better get used to the responsibilities involved.

I can do without all those chains, she thought with a chuckle. She patted her bladed weapon around her waist. This one's all I need.

"Reed and Harn are getting along well," Evie pointed out. Vess' mouth flattened.

"Yes," she said. Sounded right sour about it too. "I worry at what his angle might be."

"Your minder? I thought he gave up that whole duty of his?"

"So he claims. My father would never let him live down such a breach of duty, however. Darius knows that." She idly made small circles in the sand with the butt of her spear. "Yet he has been nothing but conciliatory ever since the duel."

"Concilia-what? Listen, if he doesn't want to make waves anymore, I'm fine with that. Is he still helping you with your Dragoon-ness?" Evie asked.

Vess grumbled, though it was less earnest than a moment ago. "Yes. He has even handed over the tomes my father entrusted to him."

"Skill books?" Evie gasped. "Those are rare!"

Skill books were exactly what they sounded like. Tomes designed to impart the knowledge of a Skill, greatly increasing the chances of learning it. When Evie had first heard of them, she'd thought they'd function in an instant. Read it and bam! Instant Skill gain. Mags had taught her different—she'd run into a couple, such as the one that let her learn her shielding spell.

Vess nodded. "Exceedingly. They detail the Path I follow, but they are not useful until I have reached Adept. The techniques are too advanced."

"Pity. How close are you to Tiering up?"

"Close, but so far. My Body and Spirit are reaching a high point—each Skill about five levels off Tier—but my Mind lags behind by seven entire levels. Only my Spear of Tribulations is within a single level of Tempering, and it has proven difficult to budge." Vess ground the butt of her spear through the doodles in the sand. "It is frustrating."

"Hm," Evie grunted. When the silence stretched on too long, she realized Vess was glaring at her. "What?"

"How close are you?"

"Oh I dunno. Close enough," Evie hedged.

"Evie."

She winced, and let a grin through. "Body is one level away from Tiering up...in every Skill I need."

"Siva's grace," Vess spat what amounted to a curse for the proper noblewoman. But her mouth split in an easy smile regardless. "What of your Mind and Spirit?"

"That's less good. Still a couple levels shy." Evie shrugged. "Could be worse."

Vess laughed. "Could be, indeed."

A companionable silence drifted over them after that, each of them in their own thoughts. Well, Evie was. Vess was likely detailing some sort of training regimen for herself. She was almost as bad as Felix.

Can't we just take a night off? I could use some good shut-eye. Evie leaned back, but despite her intentions her gaze alighted on the knot of Felix's troops. On blue skin and thick, white beards. Damn giants.

Evie caught Vess watching her, and she scowled at the soft set of the heiress' mouth and furrow on her brow. Evie knew what her friend was going to say before she opened her mouth, but it still burned to hear. "How are you? With the..." Vess gestured with her chin toward the clutch of Frost Giants in the distance.

"I'm fine," Evie said. She forced a shrug, keeping the movement smooth and not jagged at all. "It's fine. Nothin' I can do about it, so..."

"I must admit I was wary of their presence in our Stronghold as well as on this mission," Vess said. "Yet they have been surprisingly tame, even helpful."

Evie grunted. She wasn't about to go complimenting the brutes just because they hadn't stabbed anyone in the back yet. "Maybe they were useful in the oasis, but that don't account for their past. For what they did."

"Evie..."

The silence was broken but an explosion of sand from the skeleton.

"What in Yyero's sour ass is that?" Evie shouted. Her chain had already jumped into her hands.

Atop the slope, the sand settled and Felix appeared from its midst, his eyes glowing like little lightning bolts. The Legionnaires leaped to their feet, scrambling for weapons, while Zara calmly walked up toward the guy. Evie saw that his Garment was torn across the chest and arms, but it was repairing itself as she watched. And he was talking to himself. No. Talking to his sword.

What a weird guy. Evie scanned the half-buried skeleton, flaring Nighteye. Had something attacked him? That Beast thing?

That was probably why she was the first to see a figure appear on the rocks above the bones, where part of a skull and horn stuck out. It was ragged and without those blue bandages, but it was clearly another Yttin. It lifted something—a mask—above its head. It looked like a monstrous head.

In perfect if accented common, it screamed. "The Beast will come! The Devouring begins!"

It hurled the mask and it shattered against the stones below. The Yttin all around them gasped and paused for only a beat before all of them rushed Felix's position. Evie's whirled toward them, but her Affinity picked out strains of joy and glee among the shock in their Spirits.

"I...think your boyfriend just recruited another batch of misfits," Evie chuckled, stowing her chain. "How's he keep doing that?"

"I have not the foggiest," Vess admitted, only belatedly saying. "He is not my boyfriend."

"Sure."

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