Kyrion awoke in a pot of some sort of stew. Slathered in herbs and butter. An onion had even been stuffed into his mouth. His clothes were gone, which was a dilemma as he was enjoying the soak and didn’t want to get cold as he wandered about.

Kyrion started chewing the onion in his mouth as he thought. The first time being cooked is scary. The second time. You just accept that you’re delicious. His red hair had fallen past his shoulders and shifted to black.

Kyrion looked around the room and noticed that he, in fact, was not alone. Saw a heavily worn chest in the corner of the room, along with a goblin chopping vegetables on a wooden table. The knife was clearly unsanitary.

“Hmmm. Hey goblin. Pass me my clothes. I also have a few questions I’d like you to answer.” Kyrion said as he relaxed in the cooking pot. His eyes, as dark as night, looked through the goblin as though it was prey.

“Why not dead! Die meatman!” The goblin ran at Kyrion, still soaking in the pot, and tripped over a black apple-like fruit that rolled in front of it. As the goblin fell, its knife pierced its chest own chest. Blood did not flow quickly. A blue ichor left the creature’s body like molasses as the light faded from its eyes.

“I said fetch my clothes.” Kyrion said with a darker tone, his black hair matching the color of his eyes.

The goblin did so. Moving against its will, its body walked rigidly towards the chest and pulled out the tattered robe Kyrion had been wearing.

Kyrion got out of the tub covered in a blanket of black water, which was used to rinse off his body before redressing.

The brown robes Kyrion was wearing didn’t suit him, and he waved his hands, turning them into an immaculate white. “Better.”

Kyrion placed a hand on the goblin’s chest and sealed the wound, and with a tap, the goblin’s heart started beating again.

“I have saved your life. You now belong to me.” Mana flowed from Kyrion and into the goblin, causing it to grow in size from two feet tall and scrawny to five feet and a little more athletic. A ladle the size of a broom appeared in its hands, and a white poofy hat grew from its head.

“Yes your majesty.” The taller goblin bowed.

Karl was the first spirit to respond. “Psycho. You sure seem capable and all. But how do you know how to capture and promote monsters?”

“We have a dungeon as one of our spirits. If that’s not enough then just assume I know a few tricks you aren’t aware of. A hobgoblin would be a great temporary servant.” Psycho adjusted his robes.

“What is your plan?” Karl asked.

“I’m going to loot this place until it’s empty, get the girl and escape.”

“What about Tim?”

“Oh right Kyrion’s ally. Then I’ll explore. If we meet up then we can all escape together.”

“So long as you remember his priorities I won’t stop you.” Karl said in a monotone.

“Yeah yeah. It’s his fault for misusing the eye. His brain can’t handle the strain as of yet and it messes with the seal that keeps our minds separate.”

“So why does this seem to happen when he sees Nicole?” Jala asked, her form appearing on Psycho’s shoulder.

“Do you really care?” Psycho grimaced.

Jala stared into Psycho’s abyssal eyes.

“It’s someone else. Kyrion hasn’t met her and hopefully he never does for both our sakes.”

“Ah. I think I understand.” Jala seemed to move on.

A goblin entered the room with a gong and mallet in its hands. “Oi. Oi. How’s dinner coming along!”

“Not well. The entree has a bit of a kick to it.” Psycho brought a ladle out of his domain and took a scoop of the sludge they called a stew.

The goblin began hitting the gong in a panic.

Psycho slung the liquid at the goblin, freezing it into needles. Said needles turned the goblin into a pincushion. It was still alive. It just didn’t look like it had long left.

“Accept my gift and work for me and you will be so much more than you are.” Psycho caressed the goblin’s face and held it in his hands.

The goblin agreed, and mana filled it, causing it to take a similar form as the other hobgoblin, only the gong in its hands turned into a sort of armor that protected its front and back while the mallet itself grew until it was the size of a maul.

“I live to serve you Odin.”

“Why… Oh right, the eye patch.” Psycho shook his head.

“What will you have me do?” The gong goblin asked.

“You and the other one will pacify the other goblins that attempt to face me. I will not fight weaklings and I will not kill unnecessarily.” Psycho straightened to his full height and walked with his hands behind his back as the two hobgoblins led the way.

Tim awoke dangling twenty feet up a wall, a sword pinning him in place. His face contorted with confusion as he tried to remember what led to this predicament. Then, a flash shot through his head as he recalled a red-haired figure beating the living abyss out of him. It wasn’t even a fight. Thinking back at it, the boy was treating him like a ragdoll. A cold sweat pooled down his face as he fell to the ground. Landing on his feet.

“Master Atimn. You have come to your senses.” Styx, the sword at his side, asked him.

He was starting to feel short of breath. Like he was running out of air. “How long was I out?”

“One hour fifty-two minutes exactly,” Styx asked in a dry monotone.

“I need to eat another berry.” Atimn reached for his bag and found it missing from his person.

Atimn spoke a single word as he held out a hand. “Return.”

“Not to be that sword but when will you bind with me?” Styx asked.

The pouch appeared in his hands, and Atimn consumed a berry letting out a deep breath.

“Not anytime soon. You let me run around possessed, and I don’t want to get beaten up again.

“Fine, at least train a bit, you won’t lose your mind this time. Just close your eyes. Your lucky Kyrion’s mind rejected me. I’d have made him a monster.”

“Rejected? Wait, Kyrion? I heard that name recently.”

“Cuckoo. Listen, some people are born with strong minds but that. It was like walking into a labyrinth filled with tentacles. If I went any further, I’d only get consumed. Something isn’t right in there. I’ve seen the depths of the abyss and been less worried. He’s also marked by a holy weapon already, we could just be incapatable, those who use divine weapons tend to be a bit touched in the head.”

“For a sword you talk too much.” Atimn swiped the sword down and closed his eyes.

As Tim meditated, images of how to use the weapon flashed through his mind, and its ability to summon his ancestors to teach him was imprinted. It was then the fight with Kyrion made sense.

“Ah so I lost control. But what happened here? There wasn’t grass when he was brutally beating some sense back into me.”

Tim made his way down a corridor where he came from before the fight began. Only to find a total cave-in. As though the entire area had been destroyed and solidified. Deciding that going that way could make things worse, Tim turned around and made his way down the other path, one where the grass was tramped down by some giant beasts.

As Tim entered the next corridor, he noticed a large set of tracks headed into a large metal wall. To his right and left were sets of small doors.

Tim opened the door on his left and rolled to the side. An axe swung out of the door and embedded itself in the door adjacent to it.

“What da ya want!” A goblin exited the other room and found itself impaled by a series of arrows and burned by a bottle of liquid fire.

“My bad.” A goblin with various vials attached to its waist ran out of the room and tripped.

Tim had severed the legs of the goblin’s shadow before taking the creature’s head with a swipe of his sword.

“Why fall down.” Then, a rolling sound could be heard as a large creature crashed into the doorway, unable to get out due to its size.

The creature continued to leave the room by ramming the wall to no avail, eventually giving up. The door closed itself automatically as the large creature went somewhere else.

Atimn wondered how such a creature got into the room, to begin with when he heard another door open in the room. Peeking in, he saw a giant metal creature resembling a golem move through a large gate. From there, Atimn inferred that the golems had unique paths. He also concluded that he’d probably die if he was there when it arrived.

Tim moved into the room where the unlucky goblin rested, checking for traps as he moved about.

The straight way through the room was loaded with magical and mundane traps. Atimn brought out his sword and used its shadow to disable an obvious bear trap. Unfortunately, the way around was also heavily trapped. There was no easy way to get across. When he did a second trap over the first revealed a spiked pitfall.

Tim watched as the bear trap fell. “Huh. Guess they’re smarter than they look. Should probably look for something to test the waters.

Tim sighed as he approached the goblin corpse. “Sorry bugger, but I Imagine you’re the ones who set these traps, to begin with.

After using up the goblins’ belongings, Tim discovered a path through the room. Unfortunately, it was not straight and required quite a bit of maneuvering.

“They trapped this whole room….” Tim sprinted forward and lept onto a table near the right wall. Using his momentum, Tim jumped again, planting his feet on the earthen wall. The boy rotated and ran down the wall at an angle, leaping to another table.

Atimn bent backward, evading an arrow that would have pierced his head.

Using his sword, Tim cut the front legs from under the table, causing it to fall forward, sliding across the room over an open pit.

Atimn jumped onto the chain of a swinging axe embedded in the wall and climbed until he got to the ceiling. From there, he threw another wrench. Watching as a second axe passed through it and implanted itself in front of him.

Atimn then hopped to the next chain and held tight as he prepared to leap down to the floor.

“Oh.” Atimn noticed another trigger for a pressure trap.

“How do they even get around if the place is trapped this much?” Tim scanned the room a second and third time before noting the oddly large ducts that seemed capable of fitting a person of smaller stature.

Tim threw a bolt on the ground and watched as it triggered the last pressure trap. Only the door opened.

Tim sighed as tens of arrows passed three feet above where the bolt landed, hitting the wall in a barrage before settling. The wall flipped, hiding the arrows, and Tim could swear he heard them move through the wall.

Jumping through the doorway, Tim landed in another room decorated with art depicting the goddess Imala in all her glory, along with a large magic circle. Various trinkets and treasures decorated the statutes, and even a large chest potentially containing loot was to his right.

“Is it blasphemy if I take everything in here…Also that looks like a transporter. Maybe we can use it to escape.” Tim walked over to the chest and decided that this was probably a safe place to wait for Kyrion to arrive. He closed the door and listened as the traps reset and the bodies were disposed of.

"Yea...you shouldn't stay here. I can sense death in the air."

Asela, Nicole, Noah, and Chester were all at the guardhouse waiting to check on Kyrion. First thing in the morning.

Various guards, soldiers, and officials were running to and fro, attempting to figure out what had happened.

They ignored the commotion and entered anyway, the smell of blood making itself known as they entered.

Noah stopped a panicking guard.

“An expert went on a rampage killing guards and prisoners alike. The prisoner didn’t go anywhere and had taken a drunk, hostage. Anyone who enters the cell from here on out is killed on the spot.”

“You dare imprison the great red bear and then come at night to assassinate him with such weaklings? How dare you!” A voice yelled from the cell.

“Sir calm down, no one is here to kill you.” A guard said from outside a cell.

“Then explain why you took one of us in the dead of night and tried to kill the rest of us?” The prisoner barked, and the building shook.

“Whats going on here? Who died?” Noah had to be restrained as he was moments away from

“Just some street rat with red hair. Though I’m not sure….”

Chester noticed as a well-dressed man with black hair seemed to slip out of the room unnoticed.

The guard didn’t get to finish as a blank hand gripped the guard’s throat.

“That boy was no street rat. You’d have known if you used your eyes.” Nicole’s hand began to heat up as she squeezed before letting go of the taller guard, who was now having trouble breathing.

“None of that. The guard is also lying. I don’t know why he’d do such a thing but he is. I suspect that he was the one taken.”

“Are you sure?” Asela asked with an annoyed expression.

“His pulse increased as he gave a description of the deceased as though he was trying to hide something. Given that the royal inquisitor slipped out in such a fashion probably means he went to inform those who need to know.”

“Inquisitor? Where?” The guard seemed surprised.

“Nicole. Kill him, he isn’t a guard.” Chester scowled.

The guard didn’t have time to react as a head found itself rolling on the ground, thoroughly cauterized. A worm-like creature began crawling out of the guard’s ear before the heat turned it to ash.

There were two reactions, guards who seemed surprised by the scene and other guards that pulled out blades and began attempting to kill their comrades.

“Noah? We have trouble, something has taken over the bodies of the guards which means a large portion of our contingent has some sort of corruption. You and Nicole should go and inform the headmaster immediately.”

“Ches-ter why am I leaving?” Nicole began seething.

“If Kyrion has been taken he’ll need someone capable of tracking him. We can interrogate the prisoners.”

“...Fine… Let’s go, Noah.” Nicole began dragging off the much larger boy.

“Why did you really make her leave?” Asela asked with a stoic expression.

“This was too personal for her milady. I’d rather talk to the prisoners without her anger and potential rashness. Now follow closely we’re going to need to move quickly.” Chester took Asela’s hand and weaved them through the crowd of fighting guards.

“Who comes to bother the great red bear!” Said a giant man with semi-athletic muscles and an eyepatch over the wrong eye. His eyes were also brown.

“You arn’t my grand….” A hand covered her mouth.

“Oh great Alexander, tell us what really happened here.” A prism of clear magic enveloped the four people sealing out all sound and making their conversation private.

“Like I said the guards came and stole one of us and then tried to kill the rest of us.”

“Only Kyrion didn’t get taken, did he?”

“Kyrion?” Meh Thod was poked in the ribs by an old man lying at his side.

“It’s safe to talk here, this barrier is sound proof.” Chester tapped on the prism, and it sounded durable.

“Interesting young ones aren’t ya. What tipped you off.” The old man rolled to his feet.

“Charles had me go see the play a week ago. I recognized the actor.”

“I didn’t go to a play!” Asela looked betrayed.

“He thought you’d be offended having met the legend yourself. It isn’t a nice rendition of an old tale.”

“You met the red bear yourself? How.” The actor seemed awe-struck.

“He’s close with my family. Anyway what really happened.” Asela rolled her eyes.

“That boy must be more observant than he looks. The second he got into the cell he looked for a way out. I didn’t really get why and when he brought out the clones I decided to see where things went. The boy jumped into the ground and vanished with one of the other prisoners. Four hours later the guards came and attacked, beheading a clone belonging to a thief before moving to this young man.” The old man pointed to Meh Thod.

“So he figured out that they were trying to take him. He’s observant but not omnipotent.” Asela muttered.

“He knew my rank and was bored. He was probably going to come back if nothing had happened but you know dead and kidnaped clones are never a good sign. I could probably tunnel after him but I won’t. Gotta go through the proper channels afterall.” The old man stood stretched and watched as everyone else in the guardhouse was knocked prone.

A regal man with long pointed ears and platinum hair entered the building. Two long thin blades rested on his hip while a bow and quiver rested on his back. As he passed the guards, they seemed to sink into the ground. Half of the guards died instantly as blood flowed from their ears. The prism blocking sound shattered like glass, causing Chester to fall to a knee.

“So the parasites are vulnerable to my aura. How quaint.” The man said stoically as he eyed the carnage.

The elf arrived at the cell door and moved to draw his blade from its sheath. Only a gloved hand stopped him.

“You will put that away while the children are still here. Don’t forget your place.” A blue-haired man stood next to the swordsman. His eyes closed, and a smile on his face as he kept him in check.

The man with long ears looked down and grimaced. “Sorry got a bit carried away seeing her majesty in such an abhorrent cage.”

“I understand. Just subdue your presence and let the kids under you go.”

“Fine.” Moments later, Asela and Chester stood up, taking a good look at Charles, who was clearly subduing a powerful expert with practiced ease. They then got a reasonable distance away.

The old man walked to the cell. “Does this mean I can go?”

“You are being released along with Meh Thod. Had Kyrion not been taken he would be released as well. Prior to his fight he cut his hair and threw it away. The hair found at the scene of the crime was a match to hair he lost not its current length. A guard was seen carrying a bundle of it around town, delivering it to the captain’s estate. That same guard was the one who attacked Kyrion unprovoked outside a food stall and had been taken by the inquisition prior to the events here.” Charles stated.

“So we don’t need to testify?” Asela asked.

“He’s free wherever he is.” Charles shrugged.

“Is this the infamous Scarlet Maelstrom I’ve heard about? A child who has caused chaos all over the continent just by passing by? Reminds me of his grandfather in more ways than one.” The old man casually bent back the bars and walked through.

“He’s hard to look at sometimes. Especially when he’s up to something. Iv’e known that look most of my life.” Charles sighed.

“I noticed. All he needs is an orphan sidekick and….” The old man started.

Charles held up two fingers, and the old man started cackling.

Asela looked to Chester and then the swordsman, who seemed to cover his face with a hand. The two silently agreed that it was better to leave and let these grown-ups talk.