Unbound

You Have Proven Yourself Against The Tempest, Pit, Shaper of Chaos!

Be Welcome To The Halcyon Hold!

You Have Been Marked!

Authority Increased!

Stormtested!

You May Enter The Tempest With Impunity. The Stormwardens Will Accept You As One Of Their Own.

The voice of the system thundered through Pit, and an ineffable weight settled across his being like a blanket astride his soul.

Authority. He'd felt it plenty of times before. And I've been Marked. Felix won't be happy about that. They had a complicated history with gods and others Marking them, but this seemed benign enough. If it ends up being a problem, I can just have the Atlantes get rid of it later.

There was an unearthly glow to things within the eye of the Tempest, as if the world itself had turned the brightness up. Perhaps it spoke to the clawing darkness he'd just left, but the circle of blue above him was almost blinding. The world around was so quiet that Pit had to shake his head. It felt like he had water in his ears.

Movement caught his eye. Behind him, the dark stormwall swirled, layers of clouds passing over one another while, deeper in, they flashed with hidden lightning. The shadows of great tentacles and vast finned bodies moved across the light, far slower than they’d been before. Pit shivered and looked away.

There were better things to see.

The area within the eye of the storm was very large, and it was entirely filled with floating bits of stone. Much of the stone was clumped with earth and held together by thick roots, while grass and wildflowers topped those smaller chunks around him. Farther out, the islands grew substantially larger—they dominated the center of the calm, filled with sweeping, bone-white structures on a scale far beyond Euphonia.

It’s a palace! The entire central island, at least two miles across, was covered in ancient, dilapidated walls and towering structures that looked like the elder siblings of Euphonia’s greatest sights. The Halcyon Hold, I guess.

It was broken but beautiful. Certainly a palace, but one that had been long neglected. Time and weather had worn down its many walls, collapsing ancient roofs beneath the weight of greenery, and much of the lower areas were choked with nature. It had, at one time, no doubt been the home of some king or emperor, but now it was empty. The windows were dark, like the eyes of a bleached skeleton, and the wide gardens and courtyards were filled with trees that heaved away old slabs of cut stone. Nine spires stood around the estate, several of them blue with the hazy distance between them and Pit, and all of them were broken.

All but one.

There, the topmost level was a riot of green. A garden gone wild bloomed atop the bone-white stone, a miniature forest replete with bright blossoms and a burbling stream that catapulted off the edge before hitting a reservoir farther below.

Pit squinted past the bright light around him; within the wild garden, figures stood. There were at least a dozen, and though they were distant, their armor glinted in the omnidirectional radiance. Moreover, as Pit studied them, it was clear that they were watching him as well.

Three of their number hopped into the air, pumping wide, feathered wings that sent trees blowing away from their might. Wyverns rose, skirting the tops of the wild garden before splitting up. Two dove from the spire, banking wide to circle around to Pit's sides, while the middle one ascended directly toward him with a deceptive speed.

Pit pulled up, unsure whether to fight or to run. He flared his Mantle, just in case—but as the wyverns reached him, they didn't attack. They drew short, their wide wings spread to stop their approach, and the middle one twisted, corkscrewing their tail and lashing the air with their hind legs.

"Be welcome, Chimera. Follow us."

They didn't wait for his response but wheeled around immediately and headed back. Without a better option, Pit followed, pincered between a triangle of wyverns that didn't so much guide him as prevent him from running.

They approached the wild garden, and it took longer than he’d expected. The distances truly were deceptive, for the spire grew larger than Pit could have imagined, until he was confronted by what was essentially a true forest atop bone-white stone. It spilled out of the sides of the spire and clearly extended several floors down, judging by the branches and fronds that stuck from open porticoes and latticework windows.

The wyverns guided him to a clearing where ancient stones peeked up between tufts of wild grass and small saplings. It was a sizable area, but then, Pit was very big. As soon as he landed, he tucked his wings, careful not to bash into the young trees around him. Immediately, a small crowd emerged from beneath the canopy of the forest. Armed and armored Korvaaa, tenku, wyvern, and Sylphaen surrounded him, hands on their weapons, before they came to a stop no more than twenty feet away.

Pit's hackles rose, but he held still. He’d been welcomed, right? They weren't going to attack him.

Right?

"I am happy to see that you've passed." A pale tenku emerged from among the throng, and Pit let out a relieved breath.

"Scylla! Boy, am I glad to see you. How'd you get here so fast?"

"I, too, am Stormtested. The Mark we both bear allows us to enter the Tempest's fury with impunity."

"Oh." His crest feathers lowered. "Is that why you guided me?"

"Of course." She fixed him with her gray eyes. "What other reason would I have?"

Someone cleared their throat, and Scylla started. "Ah, my apologies to all. Friends and fellows of the Guardian Beasts, allow me to introduce you to Pit, Shaper of Chaos, emissary of the King of Nagast, and the newest Stormtested."

"Autarch," he corrected and nodded around him. "Nice to meet everyone."

Everyone released their weapons, and a few offered him broad smiles. One sparrow-looking Korvaa even winked.

"Well met, Pit."

Like someone had shoved an iron bar up their spines, the Guardian Beasts snapped to attention. Without a whisper of communication, they split, creating a corridor among their number leading farther into the canopy of trees.

Scylla cleared her throat. "Pit, this is Her Majesty, Princess Ondine."

The princess stepped forward, a kind smile on her face. She was pretty in an angular sort of way, thin like all the Sylphaen that he'd seen, but not skeletal. She was lithe, covered with lean muscle that showed through her practical off-the-shoulder blouse and pants. She seemed graceful, though a bit awkward standing among the fruiting trees, as if she weren't made for walking.

Huge green eyes dominated her face, and wings were folded over her back that had a multitude of brilliantly colored feathers. They formed a gradient that seemed to stretch across the entire color spectrum and flowed from her back like a cloak. Interestingly, tiny familiar figures flitted around her shoulders like a swarm of palm-sized fireflies. She reached out a hand, and one eagerly landed on her knuckle.

"Wind Sprites," Pit said. He waved a paw. "Hi again. Did you follow me out of the Tempest?"

"You are familiar with their kind?" the princess asked, just as a few of the Sprites around her jumped to Pit and started frolicking around his wide back. She was surprised, but a bright smile turned her angular beauty into something more earnest. She reminded him of Evie.

"They like you.”

"Oh, yeah. We met in the storm. Though, I guess I can't tell if they're the same ones. They don't exactly have name tags."

Ondine laughed. It was surprisingly earthy, and she even snorted a little. "I have the same problem. They’ve followed me around ever since I arrived."

"Here in the Halcyon Hold? Or when you arrived on the Continent?"

"Ah, Scylla mentioned that you knew I was Unbound. That certainly helps eliminate a lot of tedious evasions and subterfuge." She grinned. "I'm not good at either."

Pit nodded vigorously. He didn't mind sneaking around, but choosing the right words was tough. He often didn't bother. "Felix is Unbound, too.”

“Other Unbound." She gave a wistful sigh. "The archivists suggested I may not be alone. Where did he come from?"

Pit squinted and tilted his head, having to dredge his memory. "Florida. Fort Lauderdale, I think?"

For some reason, that disappointed the princess. "Ah, an American. I'd hoped he would be from my home to the north." She smiled, banishing her momentary distress. "No matter. To be from Earth is precious enough. Who are you, then, Pit? Do you serve as Felix's Guardian Beast?"

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Pit nodded. "Felix is my Companion."

There were a few concerned glances from among the Chimera present, but not nearly as many as he'd seen back in Euphonia. For her part, Ondine clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, I've heard much of this. The Chimera do not approve, but the archives in Pavel speak of a Companion Pact as a great boon to leveling and the overall health and well-being of a person."

"The archives are relics of an older time," a Korvaa said beside her. She looked a lot like a chickadee, and her voice was terse. "They are not to be considered without strict scrutiny."

"So you say. We are not the Golden Empire, Rakia. We are not daring the Ruin to come and destroy us."

Pit shifted uncomfortably.

"The Pact is dangerous—" one of the wyverns started, but the princess cut him off.

"Let us not be rude to our guest."

"No, I get it. Thalgrym and the rest weren't big fans, either." Pit glanced at Scylla, but she wouldn't quite meet his eyes. He frowned. "It's awesome, though. Is it risky? Sure. But the Continent is dangerous anyway, and there are worse ways to die than protecting a friend."

"I can see why the Sprites like you. They're loyal creatures, able to sense the Bonds of Fellowship that unite us. No doubt, they sense that within you and your Companion."

That tickled something in Pit's mind, but he couldn't track it down. So he shrugged it away. "Um, thank you," he cleared his throat. It was time to get to the point. "Felix is also the Autarch of Nagast, like Scylla said. He's the ruler of a lot of places, actually. That's where all my friends come from, too."

"Friends?" Ondine looked inquisitively to Scylla, and the pale tenku hurriedly spoke up.

"Pit arrived in Euphonia with an entire fleet of ancient Manaships, each packed with mages and warriors."

"Truly. Did you plan to fight the shadowbeasts with us?"

"Sort of," Pit said. "We had another purpose for coming to Sunara, though."

"Ah, yes. Come, then. Let us take a seat and discuss this privately."

Ondine led Pit, Scylla, and a smaller grouping of Guardian Beasts through a pathway in the trees to a large table that rose out of the earth as if it had grown there. It was bone-white, same as the spires, and so delicately carved it looked like it would collapse if someone leaned on it. Yet a banquet was spread out, heaping with steaming meats slathered in sauces and savory, colorful sides. Pit's mouth immediately watered.

"Is this all for us?"

"Of course! When Scylla mentioned that we'd have company, I instructed the cooks to make a great deal. If you’re anything like my Guardians, you’ve a large appetite."

Pit’s eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, Scylla, you're the best!"

She smiled at the ground.

They all settled in around the table. The three wyverns that escorted Pit to the spire were there, tucked close to the very long table and eating with abandon. Two Sylphaen were there as well, though they ate only small pieces of everything before them, while the last was the Korvaa that looked similar to a chickadee.

Ondine made a point of introducing Pit to everyone, and he did his best at remembering their names between large bites of meat, vegetables, and deliciously sweet fruit. Kem, Va, and Ian were the three wyverns. They were stoic and didn't say much aside from hungry grunts, but Pit understood. It really was good food.

The Sylphaen were interesting, named Aisan and Sevor, and they were a lot like the ones he'd seen on the Enclave Council. They didn't speak and communicated with the others through looks and gestures. The Korvaa, last of Ondine's personal retinue, was named Rakia Yeva. She was the one that looked like a chickadee, with the same black and white head and rounded cheeks. Notably, her eyes were milky, and she was apparently completely blind, though she didn't seem too put out about it. She was also a mage of some sort and seemed particularly interested that the Sprites still frolicked across Pit's wings.

"Why are you here, Pit?” Ondine asked after introductions were through. “Scylla says that you pled your case to Thalgrym and the Council in order to meet me."

"I told the Council why we're here. Did Scylla explain what I said?"

Ondine took a small bite of roast. "I'd like to hear it from you."

"Alright.” He took a breath and spoke with a single long exhale. “We're here because the gods are going to turn you into a Vessel, and also because the Ruin is coming to destroy us all."

Everyone stopped eating.

Rakia coughed. "Those are remarkable claims, stranger. Can you explain—”

"What do you mean, ‘turning us into Vessels?’" Ondine demanded.

Pit tilted his head, trying to remember all the details. "Well, one of the Unbound was already captured by the Hierophant. Her name—She goes by Imara, and she was turned into a Vessel for the Pathless. It made her crazy dangerous, removed any sort of free will she had, and messed with her memories.” Pit shuddered. “It was not good."

"The Pathless isn't an issue anymore, though," Rakia said, her round head shaking. "We witnessed the Day of Black Sun. Word of its meaning has reached even us."

"Yeah, he's dead. Now it's the other gods we gotta worry about. Each of them are looking for their own pet Unbound. Noctis and Vellus are after you, Ondine."

"The shadowbeasts. They have hounded me since their arrival.”

"I know. Felix saw you fighting some days ago. It’s why we’re here. Our goal is to get you away, back to Nagast, where we can protect you."

"Protect me? From the gods?” Ondine looked around her. “That is what the Halcyon Hold is for, Pit.”

“They’ll make it in here eventually.”

“Why is this Nagast any safer?”

“Because it has other Unbound there, an entire army, and ways to quickly escape if we’re attacked. Believe me, we didn’t just show up here without a plan.”

“A plan…yes, it seems your Autarch is planning much. What is this about the Ruin?" Rakia asked.

"Well, it's the big threat behind all of this. According to the Chanters, you're the only hope anyone on the Continent has to survive. It's the second most important reason you need to come with me."

"Sorcerers?" Rakia scoffed. "You trust them?"

"A couple. You don't?”

“They're as flawed as any group among the powerful. I don't doubt they had an axe to grind against the Pathless, but I heard many were faithful to the old gods."

"Some were. Hard to stay faithful, though, when the gods are trying to kill you every few months."

"I can accept the gods and their plotting," Ondine said. "Imprisoned or departed, we know their history of aggression against those that defy them. But the Ruin?" She shook her head. "That should be impossible. The Ruin has no reason to come here. When I learned of the people who used to occupy the Storm Cities, I spent a great deal of time studying them in the archives. There was little about the Nym themselves, but the holes in history speak for themselves. Those led me to the Ruin.”

She shuddered, holding her thin arms around herself. “I was terrified of it at first. The idea that a force could eradicate entire civilizations was so far beyond nightmarish that I refused to believe it. I know better now, but I also learned that it's useless to fear its return. The Ruin can't harm us, for we've not reached even the lowest heights of the Golden Empire. It would require far more to summon its attention."

"Or just one batshit high priestess," Pit said.

Ondine tilted her head. "Who?"

"The Hierophant summoned you. All of the Unbound. At the same time, she also summoned the Ruin."

"That's insane. Even if it were possible, why would she do so?"

"To cleanse the world."

Rakia leaned forward, fixing him with her blind eyes. "You're sure of this?"

"I am.”

“Rakia, what do you make of this?"

The Korvaa ignored her princess and stared so hard at Pit that, for a second, he doubted whether she was actually blind. "She seeks to cleanse the world. All of it?”

“That's what we found out, yeah. The Hierophant summoned the Ruin then summoned the Unbound to make them all Vessels for the Pathless."

Rakia's spirit blazed with a potent combination of anger and fear. "Who told you this?"

Pit frowned but pushed his irritation away. "Mivun Tal, former Hierei, current fertilizer."

"Rakia, you're being rude."

"I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. To claim such things is bold, and I had to be sure it wasn't a lie.”

“Are you?" Ondine asked. "Sure, that is?"

Rakia deflated slightly, her blind eyes fixed on some vast distance. "He speaks the truth, or what he believes to be the truth."

Ondine pushed her plate of food away from her. "The Ruin is coming for us. How could you have not Seen this?"

"I–I did."

The silence that descended was far deeper than before, and Ondine drew herself up to her full height. "Explain."

"Some months ago, I began having dreams of a great threat bearing down upon us. The details are hazy, not in the way of dreams, but as if they are hiding from me. But it was a true Seeing. Something terrible is coming for us.”

Rakia turned her blind eyes on the princess. “When the shadowbeasts began their attack, when they took Pavel, I thought, that surely must be it. That must be what I saw. But the dreams do not stop. I’ve Seen a woman atop a tower of white reaching into the sky…and I’ve Seen those same skies turn to ash.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?" Ondine asked.

"I am your Guardian, Princess. My power, however, does not focus on the physical like the others. I protect your Mind. It is for that reason that I have kept this from you. With the fall of Pavel and your relocation here, Thalgrym agreed that it was right that we keep you calm and your Mind safe from the threats beyond the storms."

"Oh, Rakia." Ondine took the Korvaa's feathered hand in hers. "I can hear that the lie has hurt you. I am not angry, but I must know more."

Kem, the wyvern, growled. "Princess, you can't—"

"The world is in danger, my Guardians. I will not back away from what must be done." Ondine looked at all of her people, one by one. Each time her gaze met theirs, it was like they were drawn closer to her. "I am Unbound, and the archives speak of the might and bravery of those who came before me. I can only try to live up to those standards.”

“Princess, the Hall of Songs—”

“Can shove their opinion up their ass. I have the power to help, and you're damn sure I will use it."

She turned to Pit, last. "I believe it is time to see the wider world, Pit. Let us return to Euphonia, and we can begin the process of leaving Sunara immediately."

Pit bounced up onto his paws. "Yes! Just follow me, and I'll take you back to my ships. It's a short trip, now that we know where we're going, and—"

The world darkened, as if the sun had traveled behind a cloud, and every single person started an alarm.

Pit looked up.

The blue sky was untouched, but the swirling hurricane around them was stained by a spreading shadow. Faded white bled into bruised purple that bordered on black, and the muted sound of thunder tore through the Halcyon Hold like a salvo of gunshots. A scream scratched at their ears, so discordant and deep that it made Pit’s bones ache.

All at once, the Tempest faded to true black, and brilliant bloody lightning snaked across the dark horizon. A voice echoed from everywhere, deeper and more resonant than the fading screams, and infinitely more familiar.

Finally. We Have Found You.

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