Unbound

The meal ended up being substantially more than just breakfast.

Felix was led into a large, open air pavilion twice the size of the Farwalker's yurt. The roof was festooned with greenery like vines and hanging moss, all built upon the backs of carved, Human-sized ravens. A huge spread was laid atop twenty two tables, steaming in the slight morning coolness in a way that had Felix's mouth watering. His friends were already there, the injured as well as the hale, all digging into the bounty before them. Soon more Henaari from all over filtered through the streets and into the pavilion.

"What is this?" Felix asked.

"A grand feast, for one who has been Blessed by the Raven," a robed member of the Synod declared. She had emerged from among the tables and spread her arms before pointing at Felix and Pit, gathering the attention of the growing crowd. "We celebrate Felix Nevarre and his Pact Companion, Pit! They brought back a Feather, from the Raven Herself!"

The crowd cheered, but the rhythm of their Spirits was confused and skeptical. There was a hesitance to their joy. The Farwalker nudged his elbow, and Felix understood. Without comment, Felix lifted the Feather of the Raven up into the air for all to see. This time the cries were deafening, and shock pervaded the Spirits closest to him.

"Few are they who earn a Blessing directly from the Endless Raven's body," the Farwalker explained to him. To those gathered around them, he raised his voice. "By Right of Wander does this man come before us, and by Right of Wander he is accepted!"

The cheer that followed put all the last to shame. The feast began and music struck up in the corner. Henaari shed their stoic exterior and reveled in the food and song. It was a dramatic and surprising transformation, enough that Felix barely resisted when he was led to the head of the main table where he sat alongside members of the Synod, the Matriarch, and the Farwalker himself.

"Won't someone hear you all?" Felix asked. Wyvora shook her head.

"The wards keep sound and light within our camp. We Henaari are Blessed by the Raven's own concealment," she said.

Translating in his head, that meant 'big magic bird did it, we're fine.' And Felix let it lie. Maybe he'd ask to see their wards later.

After a quick meal to ease his ever present hunger—braised ribs and odd frond-like leafy greens—Felix checked on his friends and allies. As he'd noticed before, they were all there, and even Vyne was back on his feet. Whatever treatment they'd received, it had worked wonders as their Status Conditions were cleared and their Health back up to full. Harn had even taken off his helmet and was eating his fair share of the platters near him.

The Farwalker asked his questions, and got his answers. Of Vellus, of Felix's relationship with the Lost Goddess. It was all very juicy to a man who collected the unheard and unknown. The Farwalker penned much of it in a small book he carried, one very similar to the journal Felix held in his pack.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," the Farwalker said after a long moment of contemplation. "The knowledge of the Lost Goddess, alive but mad, is worth far more than what I have offered you."

"What, then, would be appropriate?" Felix asked. A big part of him was urging caution, but something about the Farwalker put him at ease. He wasn't sure if it was the man's irreverent attitude or how much he disliked the Matriarch, but the old man was growing on him.

"I will have to think on this," he said before returning to his drink.

So it went. The morning became afternoon, and the afternoon stretched into shadows long and dark enough to usher in the night. Torches lit and the songs became bawdier. Laughter flowed as much as wine, and Felix learned the Henaari were not only excellent warriors but also adept performers. Knives were juggled and elaborate tumbling routines performed, though it all felt for themselves rather than for their guests. As if all of this was simply the way these nomads entertained themselves, and Felix was just lucky enough to watch.

More than a few times, Evie attempted their hypnotic acrobatic routine, and she was really getting the hang of it by the time Kylar and Davum were encouraged to try as well. The swordsman put on a bit a show, having invested in Agility fairly heavily, but the Orc axe fighter had little bend to his bulky frame. Regardless, they both tried their best before it all devolved into a gales of laughter and delight. Henaari men and women rushed to congratulate the outsiders, plying them with drinks and more food as they all poked good-natured fun at their failures. Kikri and Nevia both ended up in deep conversations with Vess, though with all the commotion Felix was hard pressed to say what they spoke about. He could have listened, forced his Perception or his Affinity through the white noise, but he shied from that. He tried to let his friends have their privacy, even if the Elf and Dwarf kept looking over at Felix every couple minutes.

Not my business. It had become his mantra as he'd sipped his water. The water everyone else was drinking was nice—rich and a little fruity—but it did nothing for him despite the Henaari boasting of its Journeyman Tier fermentation. Yet his physical stats burned through it all so fast he didn't feel the slightest buzz. After the first cup he'd switched to simple river water. Felix had noticed his friends and the Haarguard had also switched to water. He almost wanted to tell them to enjoy themselves, but thought better of it. As nice as the Henaari were being now, as much as the Farwalker seemed congenial, Felix had little trust left to give to people that had pointed spears at him only a day ago.

Now that the gymnastic entertainment had fled the floor, it was soon repopulated by a small stage that built itself. Dark swirls of violet, black-grey, and green-gold vapor swirled on the ancient courtyard, and in their wake wood and leaf flowed and bent. The stage formed of these pieces, a wide, semi-circular structure that rose to eye-height before shaping columns that met above the stage in a series of graceful arches. Felix watched, enraptured by the dance of Mana, almost missing the mage that was hidden in a doorway not twenty feet beyond. They gestured, and a screen descended from the first arch, made of a thick paper.

"Ah, is it so late as that?" The Farwalker appeared surprised, despite his shroud of darkness. "The night does sneak up on us all."

"What is it?" Felix asked.

"All Henaari festivities end with a story. A thought upon which to ruminate for a night and a day," the Farwalker explained. "Shh, shh! It starts."

A voice spoke, whisper-soft but easily heard by all in attendance. "In an Age before this, beyond the reach of Memory and the scale of Time, there was a people."

From behind the paper bright orange-yellow lights ignited, and shadows swirled to life atop the screen. The shadows resolved into a series of figures, silhouettes only, yet detailed enough that Felix could tell no two were exactly alike.

"This people, though strong, were beset by the teeth of a far stronger nation." The shadow people writhed and fell, cut into by armored foes and vicious arrows. "The leaders of this people despaired, for they believed this meant their end. But the pleas of a child woke the Will of Creation itself, and saviors were called upon from beyond the Void."

A child of shadow wept in a field of the dead, and from the sky came a beam of terrible energy. It struck the battlefield, sending friend and foe high into the air as if a meteor had touched down. From the impact, two figures emerged.

"The Unbound had come."

Felix sat up, and Pit stopped gnawing on a piece of bone. Surprise and interest echoed across their bond, quickly followed by suspicion. Who chose this story? Did they know about him? And did that matter to the Henaari?

Felix tried to cover up his sudden interest, instead folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. Before him, the shadow figures moved on. The two Unbound walked onto the battlefield and began slaying the armored enemy with impunity. The man picked up two massive greatswords and wielded one in each fist, while the woman unleashed a dark fire among the gathered armies.

"Together, the Unbound shook the earth and flooded the mountains with the blood of their enemies. Pledged to the cause of the troubled people, they were creatures of pure destruction, eradicating first one army and then another. The immortals that opposed this troubled people sent monsters, Behemoths and Giants and Dragons, but the Unbound slew them without pause or mercy. The troubled people were troubled no longer, but instead gathered beneath them a great and powerful legion of their own. Led by the two Unbound, they were unstoppable."

The paper itself shook, rippling as if the world was affected by the Unbound's supremacy. Figures, wreathed in smoke and flame and blinding light, appeared at one end of the screen. The Unbound stood tall before them, even as the skies tore open and the figures poured their might atop the conquering heroes' heads.

"Until, inevitably, the immortals came to oppose them. They were called to stand down, to let the people they served to fall. The Unbound refused."

Depicted in silhouette and shadow, Felix nonetheless got the perfect impression of lightning and flame savaging the earth while the Unbound fought back like demons. Water and smoke dropped from the skies, only to be bisected by blades as large as mountains. Until, one by one, the figures fell. And the Unbound emerged victorious.

"The immortals proved mortal after all, and from their vanquished bones the Unbound built up the once-troubled people. They became a nation in truth, an empire that spanned the Ages. It grew, guided by the glory of their victories and the kindness that resided in the bloody hands of the demon Unbound."

The shadows grew somehow luminous as the people were lifted from the depths of their defeat, dragged upward by the relentless momentum of the two Unbound. The whispered narration continued, unabated.

"Compassion and empathy, two terms foreign to the Continent's tradition of slaughter, yet they proved a lasting legacy. The empire expanded, lifting all that it touched up into the Golden Realm, where power was shared and grown. Together."

Hands reached out, neighbor helping neighbor, people raising others by word and deed.

"But it was not to last."

The luminous quality was struck from the paper screen, and a number of Henaari cried out. Felix started, so caught up in the tale that he'd forgotten where he was, but his wayward attention was quickly snagged again as dark shapes began marching from among jagged mountains.

"An Age passed, but eventually the other nations came against them, jealous of their power and despising how they sought to raise up the weak. The weak, as we all know, simply line the Path the strong walk on their way to greatness. That the Golden Empire sought to deny this fundamental truth was perversion! And so the greatest, oldest of monsters came to destroy all that the Unbound had built."

The dark shapes became a flood, surmounted by immense and terrible forms of claw and scale and blade and hammer.

"The Unbound had long since passed, long since traveled beyond the Realms Corporeal, but even still the Golden Empire was mighty. It fought back and could not be defeated by mortal hands."

The black tide crashed against a bulwark of golden stone and steel. Blades snapped and claws were shattered upon the Golden Empire's fortifications, and the wash of magics ravaged the opposing armies.

"The war waged for many centuries, but it would have ended with the Golden Empire victorious had not the gods gotten involved." Storm clouds rolled into the scene, and from behind them emerged seven brilliant moons. "The war was escalated into the heavens themselves, as magi from the Empire fought against the might of the old gods. The Empire strained, unable to hold out, and in the depths of their desperation, made the Choice of Folly."

The scene shifted, until the battle in the sky was in the far distance, and instead Felix could see a mountainous landscape that seemed oddly familiar. "Two Grand Magi found a power source unlike any other. Convinced it would end the war, they tapped into it and used its potency to fuel their great ambition."

Things, segmented and oddly mechanical, surged from the mountains. Each were twice the size of the people and as they hit the battlefield the tide began to turn. The Golden Empire rallied.

"Using this magic, they forged great creations of impervious flesh, things that would serve the Empire and cast out their enemies. Warfare raged, unlike the Continent had ever known, and hundreds of nations were struck from the face of the world.

The empire was winning. Finally.

"But Folly dogged them and their cursed Choice. The magi were twisted by the power they sought out, and too late they found that all might comes at a cost."

From among the magi something else rose from the earth. It was a blur, a bulk as big as the mountains around it, all teeth and destruction. It rushed forward, tearing into friend and foe without distinction.

"A darkness was unleashed, staining the Continent with the blood of an Age. And then the grand creations turned against their makers, against the Golden Empire and the gods alike."

Shapes that looked like massive, armored creatures fought off armies on both sides. Spears and blades shattered against their dark silhouettes, and mortal forms were shredded by their fury. A figure appeared among the Golden Empire, one that banished the creations and the mountainous monstrosity with a great and powerful weapon.

"The Golden Empire stopped the betrayal, but it was too late. A mortal blow had been put in the Empire's side, and the gods did not hesitate."

The moons shimmered and crackled, and the screen rippled again and again.

"A weapon was summoned, a great and terrible one that even they feared. A weapon that could kill the gods themselves."

Another moon rose, this one dark as the others were luminous, and from it oozed a foul and terrible haze. It dropped from the heavens and struck the earth like a hammer blow, and where it landed the Golden Empire failed and died.

"Not even the greatest of Magi could face this creature, for it was the antithesis of life. Of existence. Jealous and hungry, it could not be stopped."

Darkness enveloped the entirety of the paper screen.

"The Golden Empire, the last bastion of Harmony, was silenced."

Vigorous applause filled the pavilion and the homes nearby as the Henaari cheered. All of them had been caught up in the tale, and Felix could barely feel their Spirits quiver with quiet relief. Relief that the tale was not about them. That it was simply a story.

But was it? He wondered at that. Apart from the beautiful method of storytelling, pieces of it felt similar to what Zara had told him of the Unbound. Figures of destruction and terrible power that people had conflated with demons.

"That was about the Nym, wasn't it," Felix suddenly said, voiced pitched to the Farwalker. The man nodded, face shrouded as usual.

"Indeed it was, though few remember the name." He looked at Felix.

"Because of the Ruin. That's what the thing was, at the end."

The Farwalker nodded. "They still teach such things in your land?"

"Apparently," Felix said. The others all knew what the Ruin was, back when they had met. "I think most know." Felix thought a moment. "Why did you tell this to us?"

"I did not choose tonight's tale. That is the work of the storyteller," he said. "Yet, must there be a reason?"

Felix gave him a look. The Farwalker laughed and put up his hands. "It is only a story. An evening's diversion before the real work can begin."

"Real work?"

"You wanted information, no?" The Farwalker's chair was pulled out by a tired looking Wyvora. "Come. This time, you should bring everyone."

"Everyone?" Felix looked at Harn and the man was ready and waiting. He nodded and snapped his helmet back on.

"I suspect they will want to hear this too, Felix Nevarre."

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