《Book of Fates: The Forgotten Shores of Ferax》


 Chapter 1: The Eternal Knight awakens

    Is everyone here? Yes? The crowd is a little thin tonight, but it always is at the beginning of the story. You Fates at the back, come a little closer. Yes, yes, you. You¡¯ll have a better view of our Subject here, at the front. Don¡¯t be shy. Is everyone comfortable? Yes? Good. Let¡¯s begin.


    I am your Songmaster, your Tale Hunter and Story Spinner. Your most humble narrator. For those of you ¡ª what was that? What did you mutter? Embellisher of Truths was it? I will have you know that I never embellish. I accentuate. Now. Where was I? Ah, yes.


    For those new to this grave game of life and death, allow me to explain:


    A promising mortal, handpicked by yours truly, is shipwrecked on the Forgotten Shores of the Old Kingdom of Ferax. Mortal men call that continent the Garden of Death. I assure you, it is going to be a lovely setting for our story.


    Our particular mortal is now stranded in this dangerous land, lost, without friends or family, better yet ¡ª without memory! My dear Fates, this one¡¯s a keeper.


    This unwitting mortal¡¯s story will be filled with the ingredients of a legend: tragedy, destruction, madness, and let¡¯s not forget hope and adventure as our mortal encounters new friends to share his burdens with.


    Now, I can see you are eager to get to business, so let us- ah, yes. I forgot. One more detail: At certain moments in our mortal Subject¡¯s tale, I shall present you with a choice, oh Fates. You must choose what the mortal does next. Your vote shall be tallied, and the mortal compelled to follow the winning course.


    Entertaining, no? Indeed, there¡¯s nothing quite like it ¡ª if I do say so myself. Now¡­ turn your curious and benevolent eyes, oh Fates, to our lonely and forlorn mortal, the thread of his life as yet untangled.


    ***


    The knight awakens on the shore, his massive armor sunk into wet sand. Above him stretches an ashen grey sky. The scent of salt fills the air and the wild ocean crashes nearby. No seabirds wheel over him. No sounds of human life reach his ears. Just the water. He has no memory of how he got there. Waves glide up the beach, stretch thin, lap against his greaves, and then retreat. He should be dead. Drowned in his armor. His mind is blank, until the pale sky gives way to a displaced memory: a ten-foot wave crashing over his head, hurtling him off his legs, dragging his heavy body underwater, pulling him into darkness.


    Slowly, the knight sits up. The hollow sloshing of seawater inside his armor echoes in his ears. He watches, disbelieving as it empties through the gaps in the plate. It trickles into the sand, and then is washed away by the next wave. He struggles up - rising to one knee and then to his feet. He should be dead.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    When the knight finally stands, he faces the blue-grey ocean. He takes a step back onto something soft. Not sand. He turns his helmed head down, to see a body. A young human, his black and gold uniform torn and sodden, face hidden in a tidal pool. Carefully, the knight takes in the shoreline. All around him, he realizes, are beached and battered planks, barrels, fabric, and more bodies littered across the beach like carelessly discarded clothes.


    ¡°How lucky! I never thought I¡¯d have the pleasure to meet an Eternal Knight,¡± says a high, manic voice behind him.


    The Knight turns around, as quickly as his armor allows. The beach runs up to the foot of a high, sheer cliff, the edge of which is so sharp it looks to have been shaped by a giant¡¯s knife. Closer than the cliff, an old man, dressed in a sun-bleached robe, grins at the knight through a long, grey, thinning beard. The stranger stands on a rock, looking down, back bent under the weight of a dirty sack, leaning on a weathered staff. His most remarkable feature is his left eye ¡ª made of solid gold.


    ¡°Well? Are you a mute?¡± He cackles. ¡°How disappointing. Here I was thinking I found someone sensible to talk with.¡±


    Unnaturally agile, the old man hops down and begins searching a body, robbing the dead.


    ***


    ¡°Now I turn to you, esteemed Fates, and give you power over this mortal. Which action do you choose?¡±


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight questions the stranger.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight attacks the old man.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight ignores the old man and removes his armor and clothes.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 1 - 45 votes (1 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 - 23 votes


    Option 2 - 1 vote

 Chapter 2: The Eternal Knight questions the stranger

    The Fates chose that the Eternal Knight questions the stranger.


    Distinguished, illustrious ¡ª nay ¡ª glorious Fates. Your votes are tallied and the course of our story is set. You have commanded our mortal Subject to converse. Well, action is overrated, although some who fancy themselves heroes may disagree.


    I see the crowd is becoming fidgety. Wait¡­ has the group grown already? Without a doubt! So many newcomers ¡ª welcome! I trust you¡¯ve familiarized yourselves with the rules? Yes? Lovely. I see a confused face in the back. Yes, you. There¡¯s no one behind you. I suggest you let your neighbor fill you in on the details.


    For now, it is time we resumed the story. Where were we? Ah, yes. The Eternal Knight, washed up on the shores of Ferax, has met another mortal soul.


    This should be fun.


    ***


    The knight watches as the cackling old man searches for treasure among the corpses. The stranger¡¯s hand goes in and out of gold embroidered black uniform pockets and belt purses. Mostly, he comes up water soaked and empty, but occasionally the knight sees a glint before it disappears in the man¡¯s burlap sack.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± The knight¡¯s deep voice resonates inside his helmet.


    ¡°Where, what, and why are my least favorite questions,¡± the old man huffs. ¡°You¡¯ve washed up on the forgotten shores of the old kingdom of Ferax, the most dangerous place in the world! Based on the plentiful wreckage around us, you may have been on a ship last night ¡ª as one tends to be when at sea. What a Ritain empire¡¯s ship was doing this close to our cursed shores, is beyond me.¡±


    ¡°These were my compatriots, then,¡± the knight says, looking at the dead. ¡°Will you bury these soldiers after you¡¯ve robbed them?¡±


    ¡°Nope!¡± the stranger exclaims. ¡°Dead is dead! Gold is gold! Rot is rot! A dead visitor isn¡¯t much use to anyone now, is he? You, on the other hand, are free to perform any burial customs you wish.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t recall who I am, much less remember burial customs.¡±


    The stranger pauses his work and scratches his dirty beard in thought. ¡°Didn¡¯t know Eternal Knights could sustain brain damage. What with not having a brain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not in the riddling kind of mood, old man. What do you mean?¡±


    Smugly, the old man straightens up, flicking mud off his long fingers and wiping the rest on his chest. ¡°You¡¯re an Eternal Knight. A soul bound to an armored construct. You have no body. No brain.¡± He cackles again. ¡°Later, I can check your soul seal for damage, if you¡¯ll let me. I have experience in curses. Those were better days... I was getting good at it too, if I say so myself. And call me Turcifa.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Turcifa rattles the knight¡¯s gauntlet in a rushed greeting, then lets out a squeal of happiness as he catches sight of another body half buried in sand.


    Distrubed, the Eternal Knight tries moving inside the armor, to find a separation of body and metal, to feel his skin brushing against rough padding or cold plate. Nothing. The armor moves with him. Its joints are rough with sand, but their motion feels as much a part of him as flesh and blood. Turcifa, as crazy as he seems, is right. An Eternal Knight. A golem.


    Wary, he studies the old man. In spite of the spring in his step, he looks beaten down and battered, favoring his left arm, the other hidden behind that stained rag of a cape. His enthusiasm for scavenging, suggests desperation. The shipwreck is a boon to Turcifa. One man¡¯s loss, another man¡¯s victory.


    The old man notices the Knight¡¯s attention and flashes a gap toothed smile. After a quick final survey of the beach, he beckons the knight to follow him. ¡°Come, come. I¡¯d be remiss if I didn¡¯t invite a noble castaway to my humble home to stay the night. I shall be thy host! But before that¡­ well, I may have something for you. Perhaps, perhaps. And maybe in return you¡¯ll make yourself useful in some way... Eh?¡±


    Together, they walk along the shore, the sheer rock face to one side, the sea to the other. Turcifa hops nimbly from stone to stone, following a zig zagging invisible path, humming a merry tune as he leads the way, alternately beckoning the knight to move faster and tut-tutting at his slow pace. The knight lumbers a few steps behind, his armor screeching against jagged rocks protruding from the ground. He struggles to keep his balance on the loose stones and sinking sand.


    ¡°The thing about Ferax,¡± Turcifa says, ¡°is that things don¡¯t just bite, chomp, and munch. The curse consumes all of you. It¡¯s in the air.¡± The old man¡¯s voice shifts into one used to scare children with ghost stories. ¡°Who knows, even a metal golem like you might not be impervious to it...¡± Then he laughs again. ¡°But you¡¯ll still need something sharp for the things that do bite!¡±


    He stops next to a flat slab of rock and lifts it awkwardly, with one arm. ¡°I¡¯d ask you not to tell anyone about my secret weapons cache, but there¡¯s no one to tell,¡± he says as he reveals a hole in the sand constructed of a buried chest. ¡°It¡¯s taken forever to collect these, and I¡¯m not a sharer. But you can take one. If you¡¯ll do me a small, teency, tiny favor. What do you say, big fella?¡±


    The Eternal Knight knows that small favors often become large ¡ª though he¡¯s unsure how he knows. But as things are, being shipwrecked and uncertain about the lay of the land, agreeing with the old man seems like a fair price to pay for an edge. He looks into the sunken chest and grabs the weapon he feels instinctively most drawn to.


    ***


    ¡°Once more, the thread of this mortal¡¯s life lies in your hands, esteemed Fates. Which action do you choose?¡±


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight chooses a Ritannian short sword and a fractured shield. Humble, yes, but also practical. And who wouldn¡¯t want extra protection? There is no shame being smart on the Forgotten Shores of Ferax.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight chooses a two-handed Kaspian battle axe. Large, heavy, and wonderful for slicing your enemies in half. It requires a bit more elbow grease to swing one around, but even the larger monsters will feel the hit. No glory for cowards. Let¡¯s get hacking, everyone!


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight chooses a wooden oar. Ha! Good one, Fates. Why would you choose this? It¡¯s obviously the worst option. Ever.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 3 - 39 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 33 votes (4 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 1 - 21 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)

 Chapter 3: The Eternal Knight chooses a wooden oar

    Out of the three weapons, the Fates chose the oar.


    Your votes, respected Fates, have been collected and a decision has been reached.


    By your direction the Eternal Knight chooses to pick up... the oar? Really? Well, well, well, it seems we have a gaggle of comedians. Do you imagine you can trip up my storytelling that easily? Jokes on you, because I¡¯m not that easily trippable. I happen to agree that a good story needs a twist or two.


    Thus, just when things were looking up, the Fates¡¯ taste for irony strikes. Our poor hero has to live with your decision and it¡¯s time, once more, for me to go on with the show. Hold on to your masks, because¡­ the Eternal Knight is armed with an oar. This choice will jostle the tale¡­


    ***


    A memory, dreamlike and indistinct, plays out in the Eternal Knight¡¯s mind: As a young man, he stands in the middle of a courtyard, staff in hand, facing a blonde boy a couple years his senior. The staffs spin and connect, once, twice, three times. Both boys laugh as they circle each other, waiting for an opening, flinging insults when weapons can¡¯t find their target. His flesh and blood fingers tighten around the staff as he lunges forward.


    On the shore, the knight¡¯s gauntlet closes around the long, wooden oar. Turcifa looks at him with agitated miscomprehension.


    ¡°The oar wasn¡¯t part of my prized collection, really. Maybe you¡¯d prefer something with a bit more bite to it? Something that¡¯ll stabby-stab?¡± He hops and slashes the air around him, looking at the knight, coaxing. ¡°Or take the axe. It¡¯ll suit a big guy like you.¡±


    ¡°This is all I need,¡± the knight says. He weighs the oar in his hand. It feels like a part of him, its secrets ready to manifest at any moment. Like a forgotten word on the tip of your tongue.


    Turcifa looks unhappy. ¡°Before you commit-¡± The rest of his words are drowned by the roar of a gigantic wave rushing at them from the sea. With unnatural accuracy, it rapidly rolls over the narrow stretch of sand towards them.


    The knight steps in front of Turcifa, back to the water. He grips the old man¡¯s shoulders and the wave breaks on the knight¡¯s enchanted armor.


    ¡°That was odd,¡± the knight says as the water crashes into the cliff, splattering them with white froth and seawater.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Worse than odd!¡± the old man wheezes between coughs, ¡°An attack! I spent too much time on the beach helping you. By the curse of Ferax, it must be that rancid plant monster trying to kill me again! You¡¯re a knight, help me! Save me!¡±


    As they start running, long, algae-covered tentacles slither out of the water and up the beach looking for their target. Further down, the water starts to swell and rise. A massive body the size of a small ship emerges, waterlogged, green, and moving in an eery, amorphous manner.


    Wet vines whip toward them as the monster climbs up the surf. There¡¯s no time to think. The Eternal Knight parries the vines on instinct with his oar. The hardwood staff spins and smashes through the monster¡¯s flesh like a hammer through butter, splattering plant matter around them. But Turcifa has fallen down onto the sand, scrambling and blubbering.


    ¡°Get up, old man!¡± The knight shouts. ¡°I can hold it off while you get away.¡±


    Turcifa doesn¡¯t move. His eyes are wide with terror, fixed on the monster. A female face forms out of the central knot of writhing vines and algae, grimacing with violent, uncontrolled anger. Another cluster of tentacles flies through the air, like sinewy whips hunting for Turcifa¡¯s neck.


    ¡°For the love of gods,¡± he shrieks, ¡°protect me from this cursed creature!¡±


    The knight parries them with a smooth, circular motion of the oar, successfully blocking or severing each tendril. But for each foiled tentacle two more appear, reaching to attack Turcifa with vicious determination. With the old man frozen and needing protection, there is no way for the knight to approach the monster without sacrificing him.


    ¡°Hell of a way to start my life from scratch,¡± the knight growls.


    Suddenly, a gust of wind rushes past them, as unnatural as the first wave had been. It catches the tip of the oar and misses the monster¡¯s tentacles, dispersing in the distance. Out of balance, the knight barely staves off the incoming attack.


    ¡°Thank the gods, I¡¯m not the only one here!¡± Behind the knight, on a rocky outcrop, stands an elven girl in a black and gold uniform. She tosses her long, pink hair, satisfied. Her voice is high and girlish, but with a determined edge. Her hands and fingers are poised, preparing for another magical attack. Then she sways, losing balance, her foot slips, and the girl lets out a terrified shriek, sliding down over the sea spray slick stones.


    More of the tentacle-like vines burst from the monster ¡ª reaching for all three of them.


    ***


    Esteemed Fates! The hour of voting is upon you. What will the knight do to get out of this pinch?


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight chooses to ignore the conveniently timed elven girl and continues defending Turcifa as promised.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight leaps to the elven girl¡¯s defence. The old man may get hurt or die, but the girl gets to live. It¡¯s the honorable thing to do.


    Option 3: This has gone on for far too long already. The Eternal Knight cannot defend both Turcifa and the elven girl at the same time. He¡¯ll have to trust his luck and try to finish the monster, leaving both of the others unprotected while he does so.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 3 - 73 votes (10 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 3 votes


    Option 1 - 8 votes


    This vote was an overwhelming victory in favor of straight-up battle over protecting people. Not sure what that says about you, esteemed Fates, but proclivity for benevolence doesn¡¯t seem to be one of your divine virtues. I suspect it won¡¯t be pretty over on the mortal side of things.

 Chapter 4: The Eternal Knight attacks the monster

    The Fates chose not to help anyone and attack the monster instead.


    The last vote I amused myself by testing you, my divine Fates, on your moral compass. I am appalled to announce that you are almost unanimously devoid of scruples. Appalled, I say! To abandon your fellow humans in the heat of battle isn¡¯t very chivalrous.


    Are you sure you want to go down this path? Yes? All of you? Ah, I hear a lone ¡®boo¡¯ somewhere in the audience. Well, tough luck. The votes are binding once cast. Besides, torturing our mortal Subject and those around him is half the fun in this game, isn¡¯t it? So, let us proceed.


    ***


    The Eternal Knight weighs his options, then he turns his back on the old man and the elven girl, leaving them unprotected on the beach. He sidesteps, evading the oncoming attack, and oar firmly in hand, the knight charges through the shallows at the writhing, green mass of algae at the monster¡¯s core.


    Defense without an opening to attack wins no battles. It¡¯s a recipe for a slow death. Better to test your luck, look the demon in the eye, and go out fighting.


    Seawater scatters under his heavy, armored steps, foaming as the knight runs. His oar moves as if of its own volition. The paddle audibly cuts through the air, drawing a circle, ready to sink deep into the beast¡¯s giant body ¡ª and misses.


    The writhing vines pull back, leaving an empty space where the oar struck. Surprised, the knight loses his rhythm and lurches forward to regain balance. The monster¡¯s body extends forward, vines grappling his arms and legs, leaves enveloping his armor, rooting him on the spot. Its face pulls apart, a column of vines shoots up out of the knight¡¯s reach and reassembles high above his head into a new mask nestled in a large, leafy rosette. Its eyes glow with fury, focused on the knight. The vines wind around his joints, crushing the metal. His armor creaks.


    A new column of tentacles shoots out past him, aiming for Turcifa. The old man has barely time to flinch before he is dangling upside down, his body also enveloped in tendrils, winding around his throat, seeking for his head.


    The elven mage, up on her feet, forces her horror-stricken expression into one of grave concentration and aims her fingertips at the tentacles. Magic crackles around her, static raising her rose-colored hair, she lifts her pointed chin, big eyes wide, and blasts a stream of air at the vines. It grazes them gently and hits Turcifa square in the face. He screams and struggles for freedom.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± the girl cries in anguish, her small face scarlet with mortification. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry! My hands were sweaty and ¡ª let me try again!¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    The monster gives Turcifa a sharp shake and something glints and falls from him to the rocks below, landing in the sand near the girl¡¯s feet.


    At once, the knight feels the monster¡¯s hold on him slacken. It lets Turcifa fall on the stone below, and vines shoot toward the glinting, golden orb in the sand.


    ¡°My eye! Give it back! Don¡¯t let it have it!¡± Turcifa shrieks, as the elf snatches the golden eye and jumps back away from the incoming vines.


    No time to look. The Eternal Knight thrusts the grip of the oar under his loosened restraints and twists against the sinewy stems. The plant tears and parts under the pressure, green juice flows down the length of the oar, and the knight¡¯s arms are free. He ignores the stiffness in his left elbow joint and grabs the rest of the vines holding him, his gauntlets digging into them, ripping them apart one by one.


    The creature doesn¡¯t flinch, remaining focused on the beach. The girl didn¡¯t get far. She looks half-conscious, pinned to the rock wall, vines thrashing around her and choking her. Turcifa cowers on the ground, whimpering desperately, his body twisting and jerking under the cape.


    Suddenly, Turcifa lifts his head. Below the hood looms a warped face, barely human, the one remaining eye wide in terror. A branch emerges from the void left behind by the golden orb. More offshoots burst out. Buds open, leaves unfurl, they rip and lift his soiled cape revealing a contorted body and flesh being overtaken by plants. The old man groans and gags. The knight does not think this is normal, but he has neither the memory to know for sure nor the skill to set it right. He remains focused on the plant colossus and a problem he can solve.


    Undulating in the sea breeze, the monster¡¯s long neck cranes over the knight, its head approaching the girl prey. The Eternal Knight lifts his oar, gripping it firmly by the handle and giving it a twirl.


    ¡°Time to finish off the bastard.¡±


    The paddle whooshes through the air in a strong arc before it leaps out of his hand, soaring through the air and bursting through the beast¡¯s neck. The monster lets out an unearthly scream, the sound reverberating inside his armor. Its head sways, then crashes to the ground like a felled tree. The headless body recoils, its tentacles retreating into a swirling mass, releasing the girl who slides down the rock wall and collapses on the sand.


    The Eternal Knight catches his trusty oar out of the air, lifts it over his right shoulder, parallel to the ground, and swings for the beast¡¯s belly. The trusty oar finds its target. It sinks into the green mass and vines wrap around it. The creature recoils and, defeated, plunges itself back into the sea ¡ª tearing the oar from the knight¡¯s hands. Oar and monster disappear into the depths.


    ¡°My oar!¡± The knight shouts. ¡°No!¡±


    Water froths and bubbles behind the monster. A displaced wave swells past the knight¡¯s shins then pulls back. Everything is quiet. His gauntlets are empty, his mind fumbling to protect his only memory, as if it was attached to the oar. It¡¯s there, it¡¯s safe. Still, his unease persists.


    ***


    Divine Fates, judges of destiny. It is time to vote once more. Which action will you choose?


    Option 1: Will the Eternal Knight retreat to recuperate before the inevitable pursuit of the oar? You know, if you feel at all bad for causing so much pain to our mortal playthings, you may consider giving them a breather and an opportunity for some first aid.


    Option 2: Will the Eternal Knight immediately run after the monster to retrieve his oar? Rash actions are your style, but we don¡¯t even know whether the knight can swim.


    Option 3: Will the Eternal Knight be reasonable and find himself another oar? I mean let¡¯s face it. There must be another lying around the beach somewhere.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 1 - 43 votes (7 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 12 votes


    Option 3 - 30 votes

 Chapter 5: The Eternal Knight retreats to recuperate

    The Fates have chosen that the knight recuperates before the inevitable pursuit of the oar.


    Well, well, well. Just when I thought all hope was lost, you lot surprise me with rational thinking. What happened, esteemed Fates? Did you get scared of the big bad monster? Or perhaps you care for our Subject? Bah, quit your booing. You know you deserve this for acting so irresponsibly before.


    What you choose has consequences. In the course of this epic some mortals will die miserably, some will find happy and ¡ª dare I say ¡ª fulfilling lives, while others still will remain forever lonesome. It¡¯ll all depend on how you cast your votes.


    Now, where were we¡­ Ah, yes¡­ Taking a break.


    ***


    Far off, the monster resurfaces and the knight watches it retreat, swimming up the coastline toward a tall tower teetering on the edge of a cliff. The oar, captive in the creature¡¯s tentacles, bobs in and out of the water like a lure, taunting¡­ teasing.


    Is watching something you love being taken away what life is? Or is it just his luck to be struck by misfortune after misfortune? Loneliness tears at his gut.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, oar. I¡¯m coming for you,¡± he murmurs.


    ¡°Help!¡±


    The Eternal Knight turns at the elven girl¡¯s scream. The old man, contorted, overgrown with roots, stems, and leaves, has gotten up. Instead of Turcifa¡¯s happy, hobbling gait, the mutant darts toward the elf, like a fire viper, desperate for blood.


    Water sloshing around his feet, the knight races back to the beach, but this new monster is faster.


    ¡°Run!¡± he shouts.


    Spiny claws swing for the kill, forcing the elven girl to flatten herself against a rocky wall. The air crackles with magic. Turcifa¡¯s corpse collapses to the ground as if all breath was sucked out of it. Then it fills, stretches and bloats, before exploding. Green and pink flesh spatter the beach and the elf. Eyes wide, the girl stares at the carnage, then collapses on the sand herself, unconscious.


    The Eternal Knight reaches the scene, lifts the elf and carefully lays her on a dry slab of rock away from the mess, hoping it would prove comfortable enough to bring her back to consciousness. It has no immediate effect. As he stands over her, waiting, a short sword hanging from her belt piques his curiosity. He detaches it and turns it over in his gauntlets. Much as the rest of her uniform, the hilt and scabbard are adorned with extravagant black and gold filigree. The blade¡¯s edge, sharp and unstained, gleams as only a ceremonial weapon would.


    He lays the sword next to her. On her forehead is a small, raised, diamond-shaped scar with a dot in its center. She looks to have seen only fifteen summers, but somehow he knows not to judge her on that. Elves age at a different rate than humans, besides he did just witness the girl blow up Turcifa. She isn¡¯t as harmless as she looks. Whether that means he could trust her more or less, he isn¡¯t sure.


    When the girl opens her eyes, the sun is creeping up over the horizon, painting the morning sky in pink and purple hues.


    ¡°Oh, I am so glad to see a friendly face!¡± she exclaims. ¡°When I woke up, I thought, ¡®This is the dreariest place!¡¯ Then I remembered all the horribly spooky stories about Ferax and about the curse. Do you imagine that I¡¯ll turn into a monster? Oh, that would be horribly tragic! You¡¯ll likely be fine because you don¡¯t have a body, but from now on I should consider every breath my last one. Cato always said, ¡®Dawn, live every day like is your last and learn to enjoy silence.¡¯ I think I finally understand what she meant about enjoying the silence because even though death would be tragic, there¡¯s something beautiful about changing into a creature made of flowers. To be frank, I think it¡¯ll be hard to enjoy the silence on the beach. I mean, the waves breaking on the shore make a lot of noise. Don¡¯t you think?¡±


    The girl seems about to continue, but the knight interrupts her. ¡°Back up a bit, elf. Who are you and what are you doing here?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Oh,¡± the girl gasps, ¡°I forgot my manners! I¡¯m Dawn of High-Hauran, squire to Cato, the imperial Sentinel. Before the shipwreck, we were returning to the capital from the front lines of Kaspia under strict orders not to interfere with the Eternal Knights¡¯ prisoner transport. I¡¯m not surprised you don¡¯t remember me. Cato is memorable, but I¡¯m not. She¡¯s the most fashionable, delightful, and interesting trainer one could ever dream of having. Can you imagine learning magic with someone besides her? I can¡¯t. Oh, you would absolutely love her. Her smile warms you up like the crimson sun on a summer sunset, her hair smells of roses and honey, and when she looks at you, you feel as if all the woes of the world disperse up-up-up into the sky. Glorious, isn¡¯t she?¡±


    Skull ringing with all this information, the knight asks: ¡°Wait, what was this mission I was on?¡± We were on, he thought. There were other knights.


    ¡°I¡¯m not high-ranking enough to know. There were a dozen of you transporting a prisoner on the ship. It¡¯s unusual to have so many Eternal Knights in one place as you are so rare, so whoever you were transporting must¡¯ve been important. I firmly believe you should all have unique helmets to tell you apart, but Cato said it would ruin the point.¡±


    ¡°Wait, tell me more about...¡±


    ¡°I mean, I know you have to give up your body to become part of the emperor¡¯s indestructible elite fighting force, but does it have to be so impersonal? Cato always says that you don¡¯t get do-overs on first impressions. It must be tough to make a first impression when you can¡¯t be picked out of a lineup. I always thought the identical armor was rather uninspiring ¡ª to live one¡¯s life in magical armor, but without an identity seems like such a waste. Then again, dedicating your life to a cause is glorious and the skull on your helmet adds quite a bit of menacing charisma. Oh, I¡¯m glad I can talk with a person who¡¯s made such interesting life choices. Why did you become an Eternal Knight?¡±


    The knight sighs and sits down, feeling tired. His mangled elbow joint creaks as he leans on the rock besides Dawn. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I have no memory of which you speak. I awoke on this beach with no knowledge of who I am or where I came from. Since then I¡¯ve been ambushed and lost the only thing I connected with. Apparently while marooned on a cursed continent.¡±


    ¡°What a horribly cruel world!¡± Dawn gasps. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of an Eternal Knight losing his memory. Maybe an arch-priest can restore it? What an adventure it will be to regain it! A song-worthy epic journey! Well, I can¡¯t bring your memories back, but I can repair your armor.¡±


    Dawn springs to her feet and takes his damaged arm in her small hands. The knight watches her fingers move around the bent metal, enveloping his elbow in a warm glow. Streams of air swirl around them and rush inside between the plates, forming intense yet gentle pressure that pushes on the armor from inside out, slowly expanding it back into its original shape. While she works, she is quiet.


    As the last bit of plating smooths out, Dawn looks up at the knight, smiles, and begins to chatter again: ¡°I hope you recover your memories! But ¡®first things first¡¯, as Cato says! If we walk along the shore, we might come across a ship that¡¯s willing to take us aboard.¡± She waves up the coast, the way the monster took the oar. ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors of pirate enclaves on Ferax. If we tell them we represent the power of the emperor, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll grant us a passage home!¡±


    The knight considers his options. It¡¯s not like he has any better plans.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he says, ¡°but I shall recover my oar from those ruins as we go. I know little, but that oar felt like a gift from the gods. I¡¯m not leaving without it.¡±


    The girl nods gravely. ¡°I think I see what you mean. I could never replace Cato either. It¡¯s so romantic to commit your soul to a single thing. Oh, I¡¯m so glad we met!¡±


    As they shake hands the girl continues her monologue. ¡°I hope I won¡¯t slow you down with my need to eat and sleep. I¡¯m probably susceptible to the curse too, so I might turn into a plant and attack you. I hope you won¡¯t want to leave me behind even though-¡± she looks suddenly horror struck, ¡°I think I killed your friend.¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t my friend. He was my guide, which in our situation might be worse.¡±


    Dawn¡¯s lower lip trembles. Seems wielding an oar is etched deep in the knight¡¯s muscle memory, but when it comes to reassuring teenage girls, he doesn¡¯t feel quite up to the task. Uncomfortable, he changes the subject. ¡°Do you have the old man¡¯s golden eye?¡±


    Dawn nods and pulls the glinting ball out of her pocket.


    ¡°If this object kept the old man safe from the curse,¡± the knight says, ¡°it might protect you too. It might even work as a weapon against the monster.¡± The knight glances back to Turcifa¡¯s splattered remains. ¡°Before the monster attacked us, Turcifa was taking me to his home somewhere close by. It might be helpful to check it out. Or a fool¡¯s errand. Would be just our rotten luck if he lived hidden under a rock somewhere.¡±


    Dawn¡¯s stomach rumbles hollowly. Red-faced, the girl steps back, hugging her belly.


    The knight picks up a piece of the monster¡¯s vines strewn around the sand. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind going vegetarian for a bit.¡±


    ***


    My dear, beloved Fates. I present you with only two options today. Choose wisely, you don¡¯t want anyone getting accidentally hurt, do you? Ha ha!


    Option 1: It¡¯s time to attack. The Eternal Knight feels he¡¯s ready to face the monster. He thinks the mysterious golden orb and the young novice Sentinel, Dawn, could come in handy. Some improvisation might be required, but that¡¯s life.


    Option 2: Key to victory is preparation. The Eternal Knight wants to find Turcifa¡¯s home in case it reveals any new information of what he¡¯s up against. The oar must stay strong and wait a little longer.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 2 - 67 votes (9 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 2 votes

 Chapter 6: The Eternal Knight searches for Turcifa鈥檚 home

    The Fates chose to postpone the oar¡¯s rescue and find Turcifa¡¯s home instead in case it reveals any useful new information.


    Welcome back, divine Fates! While bickering and contention is my bread and butter, it is heartwarming to see you so united in your opinions. Did I hear someone in the back say ¡®loot¡¯? Everyone is nodding. I thought so. Scoundrels, every one of you. Nay! Pardon me, I overlooked the two brave hearts who voted for immediate pursuit and revenge. Your passion is noted, but I ask for your patience. It will be rewarded in due time.


    But first, loot.


    ***


    The knight walks slowly, scrutinizing the beach for signs of habitation. Dawn, the elf, skips ahead, her monologue occasionally interrupted when she disappears behind a bend of the undulating shoreline.


    So far Dawn has taught him that jokes about consuming cursed plants will not be received well by any self-respecting lady, that her favorite food is peach preserves which, sadly, Cato disapproves of, and that Cato didn¡¯t believe in indulgence or displays of affection. At this point the knight realizes that Dawn doesn¡¯t need his input to keep the conversation going and proceeds to ignore most of it.


    For the fifth time since leaving the site of battle, he diverts his mind from the lost oar. Instead, he focuses on his newfound shortcomings as a comedian. Having given it some thought, he decides his lack of facial expressions may hinder his ability to convey the subtle nuances of sarcasm.


    ¡°What does Turcifa¡¯s home look like?¡± Dawn asks. She hops, aided by a telekinetic push, and gracefully scales the distance between two slabs, disappearing behind another bend and forcing the knight to raise his voice: ¡°Hell if I know. I suppose a cave suitable for a mad old hermit.¡±


    Dawn pops her head back into view. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    The knight shrugs his armored shoulders. ¡°You may as well stop grinning and say what you¡¯ve found.¡±


    Dawn, smug, points beyond the knight¡¯s line of vision.


    The knight catches up to her and follows her finger to the middle of the next stretch of the beach. The elf could be a real brat. Nestled in a cliff-side nook, he sees a tower suspended above the ground, broken off two floors from the roof, surrounded by floating rubble. The structure rises and falls, gently, as if accompanying a deep inhale and exhale of the sleeping magic that supports it.


    As they approach, the knight sees no obvious way up to the large, arching window at the base of the spire which ¡ª they both agree ¡ª must be its door.


    ¡°Dawn, can you fly us up?¡± he asks.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a wonderful idea, but I don¡¯t actually fly, you know. My powers are more of a push and pull kind and I¡¯m still an apprentice Sentinel. And you¡¯re far too heavy for me anyway. Although I probably could shove you off your feet. Don¡¯t worry, sir knight, I won¡¯t do it now! That would be rude. Cato always says strength isn¡¯t everything, and technique counts for a lot more, but in a situation like this-¡±


    As they reach the beach below the window, the rubble surrounding it stirs ¡ª gently at first, then gaining speed. Dawn gives a yelp and scrambles in her pocket for Turcifa¡¯s golden eye. The orb, heavily inscribed in an alphabet the knight does not recognize, rattles in her hand as the flying stones circle the structure and then assemble themselves into stairs, leading up to the lowermost window.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°This is more magical than I could have imagined,¡± Dawn gasps, before springing lightly up the steps first. The knight sighs and follows. The floating stairs sink a few inches under the weight of his armor. He decides he doesn¡¯t like magic all that much. As he climbs further, he becomes very sure he is not at all fond of heights either.


    The sounds of opening shutters and creaking hinges tell him Dawn is already inside, searching. Her voice, high with excitement, carries out through the windows.


    ¡°Oh, so many things to explore! Hurry! There are books and maps and lamps and dishes, and oh- a pie!¡±


    The knight breathes a sigh of relief at the top of the stairs. Besides overflowing with arcane paraphernalia and a ladder leading to a second floor, he notes there are rodent-sized tufts of dust littering the worn wooden floor, peeling plaster, and a piss bucket standing in a corner next to a pile of dirty blankets that must have been the old man¡¯s bed. Charming.


    ¡°Oh, how I love hoarders! On the Sentinel campus, I¡¯m not allowed to have my own possessions. I know it¡¯s wrong, but it makes me jealous of people who can decorate their homes as they wish and wear clothing that isn¡¯t black. Black doesn¡¯t suit me at all. It¡¯s so somber.¡± She sniffs the pie, which consists of over-cooked fish and nothing more.


    The knight grabs a satchel hanging next to the entrance, and walks up to a desk, careful not to knock his skull against ornate lamps and dried fish hanging from the ceiling. On a shelf above the desk, he sees maps, rolled up and piled one on top of the other. Those go into the bag first.


    Next to the maps, he sees a compass which he grabs as well. Steadily, his bag fills with candles, wood polish, a set of iron tongs and a hammer, an oil lamp, a flask of paraffin, a rope, a flint, and a fire striker. Dawn, having unenthusiastically eaten a piece of the pie, scrambles up the ladder to explore the second floor with her own bag in hand.


    As the knight casts about the rooms for anything else that might be useful, he notices a small lion-legged bronze box standing on a table. Light pouring from a nearby window reveals a grotesque little face sculpted into the middle of the lid.


    ¡°What¡¯s inside that?¡± asks Dawn, coming back down the ladder. Her bag bulges with supplies and a thin golden chain is partially tucked into her jacket collar. The knight tries to open the box, but it is tightly shut. Adamant, he pulls on the hinges again and nearly drops the box as a high, metallic scream emanates from inside it. Dawn jerks in fright, dropping her bag.


    ¡°Robbers! Looters! Shoo!¡± the box wails. ¡°Get your hands off me. My beloved master Turcifa will curse you once he finds out!¡±


    Bewildered, the knight sets the box back on the desk. ¡°Turcifa is dead,¡± he says.


    The box falls silent.


    Dawn peeks from behind the knight¡¯s back, overtaken by pity. ¡°We met at the beach about two hours walk from here. He invited the knight to his home when a creature attacked us. Of course, we fought bravely, but weren¡¯t able to protect him and he... passed.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± the box screeches. ¡°I will avenge my master! My lovely Turcifa didn¡¯t deserve to die by the hand of that abomination. Unacceptable!¡±


    ¡°Oh, poor thing! We¡¯re so sorry about your master, box sir.¡±


    ¡°My name is the Case of Companionship! Master Turcifa called me Compie.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Compie. We were heading to the monster¡¯s lair before continuing our epic journey. Would you like to come with us?¡±


    ¡°Out of the question,¡± the knight interrupts.


    ¡°I don¡¯t travel with strangers,¡± Compie says.


    ¡°I¡¯m Dawn of High-Hauran and this here is¡­ Sir knight. He¡¯s an Eternal Knight, but he¡¯s lost his memory and he doesn¡¯t know what his name is. I¡¯ll vouch for him though.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t know his own name? Humph. As I said, I don¡¯t travel with strangers.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± Dawn turns toward the knight who by now was considering dumping the box in the sea along with whatever is inside it, ¡°I think the box is right. You should have a name, even if it isn¡¯t your real one. How about¡­¡± She crinkles her forehead. ¡°How about Amnesis Seabourne? Get it? It has a sophisticated ring to it, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ***


    Let us pause here, illustrious Fates. Picking a name for our hero is a momentous decision you, the audience, should have a say in. Besides, what could be more fun, than depriving a hero of control over his own name? Sometimes a name makes a man, sometimes it breaks him. Think carefully before casting your vote.


    Option 1: The knight, in a display of supreme self-irony, picks Dawn¡¯s name. ¡°Amnesis Seabourne sounds like a fine name.¡±


    Option 2: The knight focuses hard, trying to fish a name from the depths of his dormant past. He¡¯s so close, he can feel it. ¡°Call me Ren Londaar,¡± he says finally.


    Option 3: The knight doesn¡¯t think this is the moment to enter into the subject of his name. ¡°The name¡¯s Bob,¡± he says.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 2 - 51 votes (6 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 1 - 17 votes


    Option 3 - 15 votes

 Chapter 7: The Eternal Knight is named Ren Londaar

    The Fates chose for the knight to call himself Ren Londaar.


    The Fates have cast their votes and ¡ª as always ¡ª I¡¯m left to deal with the aftermath. You know, if you¡¯d chosen ¡®Bob¡¯ we could have gone through this journey just murdering things and delighting in Bob¡¯s oar fixation. Amnesis Seabourne could have forged himself a new identity, following a path no Eternal Knight has ever walked. Hell, he might have ended up the hero of Ferax and lived happily ever after.


    But no, instead you name him Ren Londaar. I expect this will be a darker tale ¡ª I mean, that is the peril of facing one¡¯s own shadow. It¡¯ll require a deft hand and a great sense for balancing drama. Fortunately, I happen to be the best storyteller in the known dimensions. I accept your challenge gladly. Let us continue...


    ***


    The Eternal Knight is pulled back in time, the memory of the two boys sparring in the courtyard returning.


    He thrust the oar, but his opponent blocked the attack and stepped back, both of them panting. The ancient tradition of oar fighting had become fashionable in the royal household of Ritain after the Lake Lords joined the empire and was his favorite fighting style. Ren shifted his balance off his front foot, dug the paddle into the ground and flicked it up, scattering sand into the air. His opponent flinched and the edge of Ren¡¯s paddle stopped an inch from the other boy¡¯s throat, ending the fight.


    A female voice, melodic but dangerous, spoke behind him. ¡°Ren, be careful. You could not wish to injure the imperial heir.¡±


    A shiver shook his shoulders. Ren withdrew his oar from under the blonde boy¡¯s chin and sank to his knees, dropping his eyes to the ground without looking at the speaker. ¡°I could not, mother. Never,¡± he said. ¡°I am his and your loyal subject.¡±


    He dared not lift his head, listening to her slow steps circling behind him.


    ¡°Good boy. Ealan has blessed me with such fine offspring.¡±


    The vision in the Eternal Knight¡¯s mind flickers and extinguishes, bringing him back to the flying tower, to Dawn, and the companion box.


    With new heaviness he says, ¡°Call me Ren¡­ Ren Londaar.¡±


    The box is unphased by this, but Dawn brings both hands up to her face and gasps, ¡°Oh Cato would kill me!¡± Then she kneels with her head bowed, face obscured by a curtain of rose colored hair, and speaks even faster than usual: ¡°My humblest apologies, your knightly sire sir! I wasn¡¯t aware of being in the presence of the Eternal Prince of the royal house Londaar! I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry, sir prince knight, for anything inappropriate I might¡¯ve said before.¡±


    ¡°Get up, Dawn. My name isn¡¯t worth dirtying your knees over.¡±


    ¡°But Ren Londaar is second son to Kai Londaar, the first emperor to unite all of Ritain. Everyone knows your story. It was such a glorious act of selfless love and duty: to give up your flesh and blood to serve your brother upon his ascension. I¡¯m honored to be in your royal presence, prince knight sir!¡±


    ¡°I said to call me Ren, not ¡®prince knight sir¡¯,¡± the knight says. The title doesn¡¯t sit right with him and he bristles at Dawn¡¯s prostration. ¡°Now, stand already. It¡¯s awkward.¡±


    Dawn raises her head, but remains kneeling. ¡°Your memories must be returning! This is marvelous news. Quick ¡ª try to remember something else! What¡¯s your favorite color? A beloved song? Your first kiss? Your mission prior to shipwrecking?¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Dawn, you are giving me a headache. I remember nothing more. And we have more imminent problems to solve.¡± The Eternal Knight turns to the box. ¡°Now that you know my name, I need to know what your purpose is, box?¡±


    ¡°A purpose?¡± The box says in its metallic voice. ¡°You have a good eye, Ren Londaar. My beloved master created me with a great task in mind: besides keeping him company in his solitude, I control the movement and maintain the magical defenses of his home. Of course, this task will end soon, now that my master is dead. The magic that kept his home flying will wither away. Both I and his home shall be destroyed when we fall. You should leave unless you wish to perish with me.¡±


    ¡°I have no intention to die,¡± Ren Londaar says. Dawn, having stood up at the change of subject, nods in agreement. ¡°Why was the monster hunting your master? It felt deliberate. Was it looking for the golden eye?¡±


    ¡°Possibly. The eye blocks the curse of Ferax. Over time, everyone in Ferax turns into one of those horrible abominations, but my brilliant master Turcifa created the orb to shield himself. He wore it for almost two decades. The monster must believe the eye will reverse the curse. What a pitiful, foolish creature.¡±


    ¡°Can the curse be reversed?¡± Ren Londaar asks.


    ¡°As if! The monster will never revert to its human form. The effects can be slowed down or blocked, but not reversed. It is a slow, sad, and inevitable transformation.¡±


    ¡°We saw your master change in front of our eyes after he lost the eye. There was nothing slow about it.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± the box shrieks, ¡°My dear master died as a... monster? Oh foul Ferax! Oh unkind Fates! My poor poor master¡­¡± the box¡¯s voice became a high, tinny whisper: ¡°Years of cumulative exposure must have sprang into instant action. I expect that¡¯s why he changed immediately. Alas, my good master deserved better. You won¡¯t be as lucky, elf ¡ª you will feel it coming long before you die.¡±


    Dawn shivers and shrinks back a step.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, you silly girl. Finally catching on,¡± the box continues, louder again, as Dawn continues to back away, horrified. ¡°Better hold on to that golden orb or you might find yourself blooming. You stole it from him before he died, didn¡¯t you? Thief, thief!¡±


    ¡°She did no such thing,¡± the knight shouts, diverting the box¡¯s attention back to himself, ¡°Tell me, what causes this curse? I sense no magic around us, yet the effects are undeniable.¡±


    Abruptly subdued once more, the box says: ¡°This is nothing compared to what¡¯s happening inland. There monsters are tenfold larger and stronger. My master said the curse spread by clouds of pollen. With the ocean wind keeping the clouds at bay, the shore is the safest place to live by in all of Ferax. But the moment you leave the shelter of the coast you¡¯re done for. My beloved master worked on theories on how it came to be and how to stop it, but this was before my existence ¡ª before the abomination chased him out and made the tower into its lair. My master planned to retrieve his research one day. Perhaps¡­ you could find it? You would rescue a brilliant man¡¯s life¡¯s work.¡±


    ¡°How did he plan on getting in, box?¡±


    ¡° Compie ! My name is Compie ! Such rudeness should ¡ª but, no matter: there¡¯s a tunnel that would take you directly to the cellars of the monster¡¯s keep. My master planned to sneak in and free his home. He was simply waiting for the right opportunity. Oh master, you were too young to perish like this!¡±


    ¡°Why do you need this research? Aren¡¯t you going to get buried along with this place when the magic fades?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not for me. Think about it, Ren Londaar. It pays to be smart in a place like Ferax. Then, when you return to your empire, you can properly acknowledge my master¡¯s brilliance by publishing the research. Besides, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find other valuables there too. They¡¯re yours for the taking.¡± He finishes in that tinny whisper again.


    ¡°Fine, you have a deal, box. But there are a few ways of going about this that we should discuss.¡±


    ***


    Dear, beloved Fates, it is time once more to tamper with a mortal¡¯s future and cast your votes. This time I ask you: what kind of person is Ren Londaar?


    Option 1: Ren Londaar, a fighter always ready to strike at the heart of the problem, wants Compie to fly the floating tower and crash it into the monster¡¯s lair. No one fucks with him and his oar.


    Option 2: It¡¯s time he gets stealthy. Ren Londaar wants to enter the monster¡¯s tower through the secret tunnel.


    Option 3: Ren Londaar, never one to pass up an advantage if he doesn¡¯t have to, wants to trade the golden eye for the oar.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 2 - 41 votes (6 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 1 - 22 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 - 3 votes

 Chapter 8: The Eternal Knight enter鈥檚 the secret tunnel

    The Fates decided it¡¯s time to get stealthy. Ren Londaar wants to enter the monster¡¯s tower through the secret tunnel.


    Oh, dear. You didn¡¯t seriously think trusting a talking box is a good idea? You must be new to this game. That, or you want to see the world burn. Well, I suppose nothing¡¯s set in stone. One doesn¡¯t always get sick from curdled milk or drown after an attempt to run on water. Let¡¯s hope our story doesn¡¯t come to quite as an abrupt end as all that.


    ***


    No matter how you look at it, Ren Londaar thinks sneaking in through the tunnel is the best option available. Compie¡¯s desire for revenge so far aligns with his own goal: killing the monster.


    The journey from the floating tower to the shadow of the monster¡¯s keep was much quieter than the last trip along the beach. Dawn, overawed by the revelation of Ren Londaar¡¯s identity, keeps starting sentences and then cutting them off with a squeak. Ren¡¯s requests that she treat him as before have so far been ineffective.


    Compie, now nestled in the knight¡¯s hand, his gauntlet enclosed around it, is silent for most of the journey, but speaks up as they approach the monster¡¯s keep: ¡°The secret tunnel isn¡¯t far from here,¡± it says. ¡°Just a little further up the shore. You should see a cave in the cliffs backing the beach. We¡¯ll enter through there.¡±


    Sure enough, the knight sees a crevice in the rock wall. He approaches it. Dawn shrinks back behind him, her curiosity evidently leaving her at the sight of the dark cave.


    Ren isn¡¯t afraid of the dark, the knight realizes. Facing the black beyond the entrance, he feels nothing but defiance. He sets Compie on the sand and pulls out a lantern and a fire starter from his bag.


    ¡°Dawn,¡± he says, ¡°you must hold the light. I need my hands free if we meet something¡­ unfriendly.¡±


    Lantern lit, they enter the tunnel. Their first few steps are illuminated by a shaft of daylight pouring in from behind, bouncing off the wet gleaming rock walls. As they advance further in, the lantern throws a warm glow over an arched entrance rising out of the rock wall, its surface carved into a dense pattern of rosettes from top to bottom. Dawn brushes it with her fingers as they pass through, eyes wide.


    Ren finds steps descending into darkness, carved into the rock floor. Intricate reliefs of vines and flowers line both sides of the staircase. Anywhere aside from Ferax they would be beautiful. Dawn, small by his side, holds the lantern high. Her trembling hand makes the flame bounce and flicker, the playful shadows bringing the plants to life.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a trick of the light,¡± the knight says, noticing the girl¡¯s hesitation. ¡°Stay close.¡±


    Dawn obeys, but she shies away from meeting his eyes. His skull must not look quite as romantic in the darkness as it does in daylight. Good, he thinks, the battle shall be monster versus monster. A fair fight.


    ¡°What if the creature knows we¡¯re here?¡± Dawn whispers beside him. ¡°We won¡¯t see it coming.¡±


    ¡°Silly girl.¡± Compie¡¯s voice is loud and tinny, echoing in the darkness. The Eternal Knight flinches. ¡°My master kept it hidden from the abomination. It has not found this tunnel in twenty years! I don¡¯t expect it will find it now.¡±


    ¡°You heard the box,¡± Ren reassures Dawn without turning his head. An uneasy silence falls over them. Dawn stumbles on a loose step but says nothing. He doesn¡¯t know what would comfort a pink-haired teen. Still, he should say something to keep her occupied.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    At a loss, he addresses Compie instead. ¡°Box, you never told us who Turcifa was before he ended up on the beach.¡±


    ¡°My beloved master was a noble from the capital, Ag¡¯ave,¡± Compie began. ¡°He was a genius magician and a scientist known throughout Ferax.¡±


    The box recited the old man¡¯s story as if reading from a biography. The Knight supposed even crazy old hermits want their deeds recorded and remembered.


    ¡°Master Turcifa,¡± Compie explains, ¡°along with his wife, and his newborn babe were visiting this keep, their summer home, when they got news of the curse spreading from inland. Naturally, they barricaded themselves in and waited it out. Unfortunately, his darling daughter was exposed to it and turned. His wife, eaten by grief, perished soon after. Master Turcifa committed himself to finding an antidote to the curse, pursuing his research with the limited tools at his disposal. He even captured a monster which he used as a test subject for his cure, but the beast got loose and took over the tower. My master¡¯s research is no more and Ferax is that much worse for the loss.¡±


    The box finishes its tale just as they reach the last steps. In front of him, the knight sees a round chamber, supported by eight arches, its ceiling tapering off high above them where the pillars converge into a relief depicting a pomegranate tree, its branches heavy with fruit. The knight¡¯s steps echo off the floor where a dense floral mosaic is still visible under layers of dust. On the other side, the knight sees three heavy doors.


    ¡°Which one, box?¡±


    ¡°Take the middle door. It¡¯ll get you to your destination fastest.¡±


    Unwillingly, the door yields under his weight and creaks open. Beyond is another dark corridor.


    ¡°This curse on Ferax,¡± the knight asks Compie as they walk on, ¡°who cast it? You said it spread from the capital?¡±


    ¡°Rumor is it was the king himself who cast it when his subjects demanded change.¡±


    The light suddenly jumps in Dawn¡¯s hands, almost flickering out, and the girl shrieks in terror.


    Ren Londaar pulls her toward himself, ready to attack. ¡°What did you see?¡±


    ¡°I- I think it was a rat,¡± the girl gasps. ¡°But it was white¡­ and weird.¡±


    The knight relaxes. ¡°Descend to the underbelly of any human habitation, and you¡¯ll find it swarming with vermin. Just don¡¯t let it get close to you.¡±


    A short time later, Dawn¡¯s lantern swivels again, this time illuminating the corridor behind them, plunging the knight into darkness.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not a rat!¡± Dawn crouches, extending her hand toward a small, white creature wearing a big, domed hat and holding a tiny, wooden spear. ¡°It¡¯s a mushroom creature of some sort. Such a precious little thing, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    The girl is right. The mushroom, small enough to fit in the palm of Dawn¡¯s hand, squints at the bright lantern with plain dislike, and dodges her attempts to touch it. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a notebook and pencil and begins sketching. Her hand moves wildly over the paper, tracing the shape of an angry mushroom.


    ¡°Is now the moment for this?¡± asks the knight.


    Dawn looks up at him guiltily from her sketch and begins to obediently put her notebook away. Disturbed by her deference, the knight waves her on, listening for any signs of trouble.


    When Dawn¡¯s sketch is done, the knight takes the lantern and looks around. Where there are rats ¡ª or mushroom men in this case ¡ª there are cracks in the structure. Sure enough, he sees a fissure in the ceiling. A mushroom cap pops its head outside and seeing him, retreats. Then another peeks out, and a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth.


    The Knight takes a step back and feels a soft squelch under his heel. Under his leg is a white stain, smeared into the stone floor.


    ¡°Auch!¡± Dawn yelps and withdraws her hand. ¡°It pricked my finger!¡±


    Furious, the mushroom man in front of Dawn lets out a soft, little war cry and attacks her feet. Dawn dances away, and the knight hears the mushroom¡¯s cry repeated above them as more white creatures pour out of the ceiling.


    ***


    There you have it. Off to a good start, aren¡¯t we?


    Option 1: Death to the mushroom men! Cute they may be, but in a horde they are vicious. The Knight does battle with armored elbows and stomping feet! This is bound to get messy, but they started it.


    Option 2: It would be an ignominious end to perish here at the spears of aggressive fungi! Time to run through the dark tunnels and run fast. Well, as fast as a hulking armor can.


    Option 3: If Turcifa got through these tunnels, then so can the Eternal Knight. Maybe these warlike ¡®shrooms can be appeased with some of the loot they found from Turcifa¡¯s tower! Everybody likes loot, right?


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 3 - 54 votes (12 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 10 votes (1 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 1 - 7 votes

 Chapter 9: The Eternal Knight appeases the mushrooms

    The Fates chose to bribe the mushrooms with loot.


    Oh, Fates, you have decided to send our hero on the path of diplomacy¡­ with talking mushrooms. Well, what can I say? I applaud your creativity, ambition, and courage. Yet, I wouldn¡¯t want to be in the knight¡¯s shoes. Not with you looking over his shoulder.


    ***


    In the damp passageway, the mushrooms crash on the knight and Dawn like a wave. They pour from the crack in the ceiling, clambering up their legs, dropping on them and bouncing off of the knight¡¯s helmet. Dawn flails, trying to get them out of her hair. The knight can hear Compie, shouting obscenities:


    ¡°Get off me! Curse you, you mangy sponge brains!¡±


    Careful not to move his feet, the Eternal Knight weighs his options. Could he bribe the creatures? Do mushrooms like food? He pulls Dawn closer to him and reaches for her bag, pulling out a neatly wrapped bundle of dried fish.


    ¡°Here,¡± he says, laying the fish on the ground, ¡°you can have it if you leave us alone.¡±


    All at once, the tumult quiets and the mushrooms stop moving, intrigued. In silence, one warrior mushroom approaches the fish, reaching out a spindly arm to touch it. The fungi withdraws as if burned.


    ¡°Poison!¡± It shouts and the chaos resumes. The tiny spears rattle against the knight¡¯s legs and scratch Dawns ankles, breaking through the fabric of her trousers and drawing blood.


    No helping it then, the knight thinks, he will have to start stomping.


    ¡°No, don¡¯t kill them, it¡¯s just a scratch!¡± Dawn shouts, seeing his foot rise. ¡°They must not like salt. They¡¯re just defending themsel-¡± She yelps and covers her face as a mushroom reaches her shoulder, waving its tiny spear.


    ¡°Kill them!¡± Compie screams from the ground where the knight dropped it, its words muffled by the furious tapping of tiny spears against its bronze shell. ¡°Amateurs! Master Turcifa would never have been ambushed by these filthy tunnel crawlers! He ate them for supper!¡±


    ¡°Turcifa?¡± The mushrooms repeat amidst gasps and shrieks. ¡°Turcifa the Devourer?!¡±


    A faint cloud rises around the mushrooms. It thickens with every passing second, swirls and climbs higher.


    ¡°Hold your breath, Dawn!¡± The knight commands, but it¡¯s too late. The mushroom warriors retreat, leaving a space around them as the elf staggers forward and then sways back, her arms limp at her sides. She collapses into Ren¡¯s arms, still breathing, but unconscious.


    The creatures wait a moment longer, then a discontented murmur passes through them. ¡°Why not fall? Steel-man immune! What now?¡±


    One mushroom, larger and older, with a cracked, mossy cap, steps out in front of the knight and taps its spear against the floor for attention. ¡°You! Prisoner!¡± It says. ¡°Take dreaming friend and box. Follow us!¡±


    Compie protests, but Ren stuffs it into his backpack. Then he lifts Dawn gently in his arms, and follows the old mushroom further up the corridor. They come upon a doorless room into which the knight is ushered and told to wait while two mushroom-guards position themselves at both sides of the entrance. The fierce little warriors show no fear of the eight-foot skull-faced giant. Their bravery pleases Ren and puts him oddly at ease with his captors.


    He lays Dawn on the ground, sliding a backpack under her head, and sits next to her, leaning against the stone wall. First knocked out by the plant monster and now by fungi, and it¡¯s not even noon yet ¡ª the girl¡¯s had a rough morning.


    His steel body is paying off after all. He wonders whether Dawn¡¯s story ¡ª the one about him joining the Eternal Knights ¡ª was true. Did he volunteer to forgo his humanity to protect his brother¡¯s throne? It doesn¡¯t seem quite right. He searches for answers in the cold emptiness of his mind, but finds none.


    Time grinds to a crawl. Ren tries to push his thoughts away, exhausted, but many questions haunt him, mock him. He sighs in relief as Dawn stirs and opens her eyes.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Oh, I had the most vivid dream,¡± she says, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe what-¡±


    Her words are interrupted by the light tapping of tiny feet against the damp floor. A new mushroom approaches the doorway and waves the guards away imperiously. It¡¯s thin and tall, and a scar runs across one of its beady eyes. The mushroom looks straight up at Ren.


    ¡°Attention!¡± it shouts. ¡°Mushroom king summons you to answer for your crimes. The punishment for killing mushroom warrior is death.¡± It pauses dramatically, looking up. Dawn peers at it, nonplussed, while Ren nods.


    ¡°Good timing, little one,¡± he says to the mushroom, getting up on his feet. ¡°I think we should get going now that Dawn is awake. I¡¯ll be sure to thank your king for his hospitality.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± shouts the mushroom. ¡°You are summoned!¡±


    The knight turns his eyeless stare on the scarred mushroom. He has no wish to harm these strange folk, but neither will he be kept from the oar by them.


    The scarred mushroom takes in the knight¡¯s metal limbs, the heavy gauntlets and weighty iron sabaton on his feet. It comes to some conclusion then and closes the distance between them. ¡°Not so fast, giant! I have a proposition. A great bargain! Can¡¯t refuse. Mutual benefit.¡± It whispers, ¡°If giant does as I say, giant and his friends may be saved.¡±


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± the knight laughs. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    ¡°Mushroom king is old and short-sighted. Crown should be passed into capable hands. Mine! I will rule mushrooms and make prosperous kingdom. Giant kill the king for me and I will let him and friends go.¡±


    If the knight had eyebrows, he would have raised one. Instead he takes a step around the murderous mushroom.


    ¡°Should have known even fungi war amongst themselves,¡± says the knight. ¡°No deal, little one. I don¡¯t meddle in affairs that are not mine to meddle with.¡±


    ¡°Foolish not to consider the option,¡± the mushroom harrumphs. ¡°What if I throw in curse-immunity for the sleepy human? Do it then?¡±


    ¡°Immunity?¡± Dawn asks, pausing. ¡°But I have Turcifa¡¯s eye.¡±


    ¡°Turcifa the Devourer¡¯s gold eye. Did it save him?¡± the scarred mushroom has a nasty smile. ¡°Only temporary. Our spores last forever. Do it now?¡±


    Ren remembers how quickly Turcifa transformed without his eye. ¡°We¡¯ll think about it,¡± he says.


    ¡°No time to think. I take you to king now.¡±


    The mushroom king¡¯s chambers were tucked safely beyond a collapsed part of the tunnel. Lantern in hand and Compie in his backpack, the knight and Dawn are forced to crawl on hands and knees, led by the scarred mushroom. A throng of smaller mushrooms brings up the rear. The wings on the knight¡¯s back scrape against the ceiling. Dawn shields her palms against the cold, damp floor with her coat sleeves, but it isn¡¯t long before she begins shivering as her clothes become soaked.


    The throne room opens before them into a wider space, high enough to kneel. Stalactites gleam above their heads, picking up the flame of the lantern, reaching down toward their stalagmite counterparts, giving the effect of crawling into a bestial mouth. All around them extends a sea of mushroom warriors, waiting for their arrival. In the middle of the cavern on an elevated platform stands the red-capped king. On top of its head is a white growth that resembles a crown, a lacy white fungal cape cascades down its back onto the platform and its ample beard reaches the ground.


    A mushroom steps forward and shouts, ¡°All bow to King Zwiglet Noxspain, the gardener of Ferax, oracle of fungi, and destroyer of the Noxis!¡±


    Ren pulls Compie out of his bag and sets it on the floor. ¡°Greetings, your majesty,¡± he says, bowing his head.


    ¡°You have killed warrior. You have killed one of my strongest warriors, Snuusling Greycap.¡± The king speaks in barely more than a breathy whisper, but in the cavern¡¯s silence, its voice carries clearly. He does seem very old. ¡°Do you plead guilty?¡±


    ¡°Oh, your highness,¡± Dawn bows her head, ¡°it was an accident. We didn¡¯t mean to. It¡¯s just that you¡¯re so small and -¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± whispers the king. ¡°Is not a small life as valuable as a large one?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± says Dawn, aghast.


    ¡°In my realm the punishment for death is death.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Compie snorts. ¡°You think you can sentence us to death? I am indestructible for mere fungi and the knight could wipe you out by simply rolling on the ground!¡±


    The king looks at Compie, then at Ren. ¡°It is true that you two are strong. You withstood our spore attack. Hmm¡­¡± The king closes its eyes in thought. ¡°You could prove to be a powerful weapon in our war against the Noxis,¡± it says. ¡°Yes¡­ It is decided then! If you pledge your loyalty to me and help save Ferax, I will spare your lives.¡±


    ¡°The Noxis?¡± asks Dawn, timidly.


    ¡°The Cursed,¡± says the mushroom king, impatient. ¡°The plants. Our enemies. Help to free Ferax! Or else.¡±


    The knight considers this proposition carefully.


    ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± Dawn hisses. ¡°We have to find our way home! Cato will worry, and-¡±


    ¡°Master Turcifa would kill the arrogant sponge,¡± Compie murmurs, ¡°you¡¯ll get more out of the usurper¡¯s offer than from aligning yourself with the king.¡±


    ***


    My esteemed Fates, it is time to put that creativity, ambition, and courage to test once more. Let¡¯s see how it fares when the stakes are higher.


    Option 1: The cruel plight of cursed Ferax has moved the Knight¡¯s heart. Or it would, if he had one. Swear to free Ferax and ally with the mushroom king.


    Option 2: Listen to Dawn and decline both offers. It¡¯s not like the mushrooms can stop him. The plan is: find the oar. Find a ship. Leave this cursed land.


    Option 3: Kill the mushroom king and make a pact with the usurper shroom. It might end up saving Dawn¡¯s life.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 1 - 40 votes (4 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 - 19 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 11 votes

 Chapter 10: The Eternal Knight allies with the mushroom king

    The Fates chose to align with the mushroom king.


    Have you ever heard a story about an amnesiac knight who swore fealty to a mushroom? No? NO? Well, there¡¯s a good reason for it! Oh Fates, truly you act in mysterious ways. Nonetheless, my duty is to entertain and delight no matter what hole you dig me into. Let¡¯s see how this pact pans out, shall we?


    ***


    The knight hesitates as he considers his options. There¡¯s merit in aiding the usurper and securing Dawn¡¯s survival, but little wisdom in trusting a traitor without knowing more. And while Dawn is correct about finding the oar and leaving this cursed continent, her plan is driven by childish optimism ¡ª finding a ship will most likely prove difficult, not to speak of surviving this wicked, dangerous land without allies.


    ¡°Your majesty, I don¡¯t know whether it¡¯s possible to save Ferax,¡± the knight says, bowing his head, ¡°but I, Ren Londaar, swear to do everything in my power to defeat the Noxis curse. As proof of our alliance, I will face the Noxis monster in this tower and banish it.¡±


    Perhaps this act will not directly address the curse, but it ought to be good enough for now, Ren thinks. His quest for vengeance will serve more than one purpose.


    The mushroom king nods in response. ¡°I, King Zwiglet Noxspain, accept your oath of allegiance and grant you the title of Metal Man, leader of the expedition force sent to defeat the Noxis! We¡¯ve shared our home with the cursed creature for long enough!¡±


    ¡°Thank you, your majesty. Now, if you¡¯ll allow, I have a monster to slay.¡±


    ¡°Before you go,¡± the mushroom king smiles slyly for the first time, ¡°the Royal Warpack will ride inside the Metal Man¡¯s empty armor. Metal Man will carry Royal Warpack past the dark nest of Khalam-Zhu. Then Metal Man and Warpack will attack the Noxis together. There will be a big boom! There will be a big battle! At the end we will prove victorious in the name of all fungi!¡±


    ¡°Your plan is to transport warriors inside my armor? And what is this Khalam-Zhu?¡±


    The murmurs in the cavern quiet to a frightened whisper. All eyes are on the king as he strokes his beard and answers: ¡°Khalam-Zhu is the darkness of tormented souls. It resides within the castle, between us and the monster. Nothing goes past it. But Metal Man can protect the invasion force hiding inside him.¡±


    The knight turns to Compie. ¡°You neglected to mention we¡¯ll be facing tormented souls on our way up.¡±


    ¡°I have a way of getting past them. There was no need to burden you with unnecessary information ¡ª after all, you have no brain and the elf girl¡¯s not much better in that department.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Dawn bristles, ¡°that¡¯s not tr- Oh, look! What¡¯s that?¡±


    A half-rotten, decorative table leg travels over the mushrooms¡¯ caps, making its way toward the knight. The fungi lift it to Ren¡¯s left shoulder like a ramp and white warrior mushrooms line up at its base.


    ¡°Very well.¡± The knight sighs and begins unscrewing his helmet. ¡°Dawn, would you get the screws at the back? You can use the knife in my bag.¡±


    They proceed to take apart the seam at his neck and soon the knight lifts the helmet off his shoulders. His vision floats up with it. Ren half expects the rest of his armor to drop lifeless to the floor, but his fingers keep a tight hold on the helmet, and his hands and body remain under his control. Disoriented, he holds his head in his lap as mushrooms march up to his shoulder and yelp war cries as they jump down his neck and bounce around his insides like little rubber balls.


    ¡°Fungi!¡± the mushroom king lifts its tiny arms when the last of the warrior mushrooms is inside Ren¡¯s armor and his head is secured to the torso once more. ¡°We have concluded our war planning! Now we must celebrate our new champion by awarding him with a ceremonial gift: the sacred Symbiosis!¡±


    At this, a group of green mushrooms prance into the throne room, dancing and singing to a jolly tune played on lichen trumpets. The Eternal Knight looks at the procession darkly, but Dawn¡¯s eyes light up at the sight.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything so adorable!¡± She sighs. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a good thing cuteness can¡¯t kill, otherwise I¡¯d die on the spot. I can¡¯t wait to tell Cato all about this! It¡¯ll make a fantastic story, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Distracted by the warrior mushrooms¡¯ chatter inside him, the knight almost misses the arrival of the next ceremonial group. Dawn taps his arm as the mass of mushrooms around them erupts in a high-pitched chant: ¡°Symbiosis! Symbiosis! Symbiosis!¡±


    Like ships through a storming sea, three pedestals float closer to them, carried forward on top of the audience¡¯s bouncing caps. On each pedestal is a larger than average mushroom, one yellow, one blue, and one purple.


    ¡°As a sign of trust,¡± the mushroom king says, ¡°I present you with our most valued Proto Mushrooms ¡ª you may choose one, Metal Man.¡±


    ¡°Erm, thank you, your majesty.¡± The knight hesitates. ¡°What are they?¡±


    ¡°They are the first mushrooms brought to life by our creator ¡ª each with their unique powers of protection. They are the eldest of our species and we have worshipped them for generations. We call the first one you see Yellow Sun ¡ª it will illuminate the dark and radiate warmth. The second is the Blue Mist ¡ª it will envelop you in a smokescreen, confusing your foes. And the third one is Violet Alert ¡ª it will tell you when Noxis are nearby. They have kept my clan safe since the creation of our species, but it is time we stop using them merely as a defense...¡±


    ***


    And now, my supreme divine beings, I ask you to put your omnipotent communal intelligence to good use! This might be the most important decision that you will ever make, so consult your inner eye on what the future might bring, choose with extreme care, and get your friends to vote with you. If we¡¯re going down this road, we might as well do it with as large an audience as possible.


    Option 1: The knight chooses Yellow Sun ¡ª the mushroom that illuminates the dark.


    Option 2: The knight chooses Blue Mist ¡ª the mushroom that can create a smokescreen.


    Option 3: The knight chooses Violet Alert ¡ª the mushroom that will alert of nearby Noxis


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 3 - 33 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 1 - 15 votes


    Option 2 - 13 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)

 Chapter 11: The Eternal Knight chooses the Violet Alert

    The Fates chose the violet mushroom.


    Ah, Violet Alert, is it? Feeling insecure? Bah, stop booing. I¡¯m just teasing you. It¡¯s a perfectly logical choice. You¡¯re doing fine so far. A little trusting perhaps, but no one¡¯s died yet-


    Well, one person is dead. I¡¯m sure it was a fluke. We should take comfort knowing that humans rarely die that easily. Right?


    ***


    To some, this might seem like an arbitrary choice, but Ren weighs his options carefully: Yellow Sun has nothing ordinary fire couldn¡¯t provide; if misused Blue Mist could end up being as detrimental to him as it would be to the attacker; which leaves him with Violet Alert. The Eternal Knight is not a coward, but one can never be too cautious. He says as much to the mushroom king, who nods gravely and prompts a group of servants to bring forth the violet mushroom.


    ¡°What do I do?¡± the knight asks.


    ¡°Place its stem wherever it most suits you. It will lend its warning glow to the bonded object.¡±


    As instructed, Ren lifts the mushroom and places it on top of his helmet. Instantly, he feels it attach itself to his head, like a net of tiny veins permeating his steel skull ¡ª and then the sensation is gone.


    Dawn giggles. The mushroom audience ooh¡¯s and bows.


    ¡°You are now ready to face the dangers of Ferax,¡± the mushroom king declares. ¡°Go! May the symbiote serve you well, as you will serve your new king.¡±


    With Compie tucked in his bag, mushrooms filling his armor, and Dawn close at his heels, Ren backtracks to the long corridor where they were ambushed and resumes their journey through the tower cellar.


    This time there are green, glowing mushrooms scattered across the ceiling, star-like, casting a soft light around them, making the dank underground maze seem less menacing. Even Dawn doesn¡¯t look frightened anymore. The lantern in her hand doesn¡¯t tremble, and she keeps glancing at the knight¡¯s head, amused.


    ¡°It¡¯s the safest place I could think of,¡± the knight answers, anticipating her question.


    ¡°I love it,¡± is all she says.


    Compie makes a high, scoffing sound inside Ren¡¯s bag. ¡°Master Turcifa never made the mistake of humoring those maggoty sponges and that ridiculous king of theirs. And these symbiotes sound more like defunct experiments than powerful ancestors.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s done is done,¡± the knight says, the mushroom warriors¡¯ irritated grumbling inside him echoed in his tone of voice. ¡°However, you could tell us more about this tormented soul we¡¯re going to face.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s not much to say. The spirit waits behind the door at the end of the corridor. Only singing at a certain frequency can put it to sleep and I¡¯m the key to getting past it. Brilliant master Turcifa built the musical mechanism himself. You¡¯ll slot me in the door, I¡¯ll sing to activate the device, the spirit will fall asleep, the door will open, and you¡¯ll continue without me. All I ask is that you¡¯ll come back for me once you¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°You want us to leave you?¡± The knight asks, the box¡¯s dismissive tone surprising him.


    ¡°It¡¯s the only way. I have done this for my great master Turcifa many times.¡±


    The knight pats the bag Compie is in. ¡°You¡¯re a good box, Compie.¡±


    Before long, they stand facing a door framed in tarnished silver. It doesn¡¯t have a handle or a keyhole. Instead, in its center, there¡¯s a Compie-sized opening surrounded by an intricate silver mechanism.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    A shiver runs through the mushrooms inside Ren¡¯s armor as he pulls Compie out of his bag. He hesitates for a moment.


    Dawn looks worried as well. ¡°Not to be rude, but I have a bad feeling about this, prince knight sir,¡± she whispers.


    ¡°I¡¯m a loyal box,¡± Compie says, a whine of hurt in his tone.


    Ren agrees that the box¡¯s loyalty for Turcifa can hardly be disputed, but trust and devotion are never given freely. He considers. Compie may not like them, yet surely it craves the death of the monster in the tower as much as they did. For now, their goals align. ¡°So do I,¡± the Knight answers Dawn. ¡°But I have made a vow to the Mushroom King. And this is our best bet for getting inside the tower and retrieving that oar.¡± Somehow, he feels that is intrinsically true. As though the hands of fate bring him here.


    The Knight faces the door, lifts Compie into the opening and slides it in. The mechanism clasps the box and clicks into place with a satisfying metallic sound.


    Dawn clasps the lantern with both hands to stop its violent shaking and holds her head high. Good girl, Ren thinks. Fearful she might be, but she¡¯s not as frail as she looks.


    Compie begins singing, its screeching wail augmented by the door itself. The short, wordless melody repeats itself seamlessly, monotonously.


    ¡°Oh, are you sure this will put the spirit to sleep?¡± Dawn whispers. ¡°It seems highly unlikely that anyone could relax in this noise. If anything, I imagine it would be better primed to kill us now than before. Cato used to say, never poke a beehive unless you¡¯re ready to go down along with your enemies. Maybe we should just turn around and-¡±


    The door clicks, its deadbolts retract with a drum-like thump, and its hinges creak as it swings open on pure, impenetrable darkness, filled with Compie¡¯s unnerving song.


    ¡°Hold on to me so we aren¡¯t separated,¡± Ren says. He feels Dawn¡¯s small hand grab onto his. She looks up, her expression determined.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± she says.


    Darkness envelops them on all sides, dampening the lantern light into a small sphere that illuminates only two steps ahead of them. Ren closes the door. He reaches his hand out to find the wall which he then follows as they move onward one slow step at a time. A ninety-degree bend confirms his suspicion that they¡¯re circling a large room, probably the size of a small cathedral hall. So somewhere at its center is this¡­ tormented soul.


    His armored feet clang against the tiled floor. When he finds the next bend in the wall, he suppresses a sigh of relief ¡ª almost there.


    The music stops.


    For a hopeful, stupid moment the knight waits, expecting Compie to simply have run out of breath and resume its singing. But Compie is a box. It doesn¡¯t need to breathe. And the music doesn¡¯t resume. Instead, behind them in the distance, the door opens once more. In the dim, green light of the passageway they see Compie jump down onto two thin, long legs extending from its open lid.


    ¡°This is for letting my dear master Turcifa die!¡± It cackles maliciously as it turns on its heel and bolts back the way they came.


    ¡°Curses,¡± the knight growls. He yanks Dawn¡¯s arm and hastens their pace. He can feel the mushrooms inside him stir, bracing for a fight, their tiny spears scraping against the interior of the plates.


    Then he hears a snore and a grumble and something large moves. Dawn, running beside him, suppresses a scream and drops the lantern which extinguishes and plunges them into the blackest darkness. He keeps his hold on Dawn¡¯s arm as she bends to retrieve it. He pulls her along, quicker, almost running.


    Then Ren can see again: a blue light burns in the center of the room. The light emanates from a black dragon¡¯s eyes and open mouth, illuminating the space between them.


    He notices the exit only a short distance away. ¡°Dawn, get to the door. Try opening it,¡± he commands. ¡°I¡¯ll hold its attention.¡±


    Dawn nods and scrambles away on shaky legs. The dragon, groggy, hasn¡¯t noticed them yet.


    ¡°It won¡¯t open!¡± the girl whispers urgently, pulling at the door.


    Not surprised, Ren nods, eyes fixed on the waking beast before him. ¡°Don¡¯t panic. I¡¯ll keep this thing occupied while you open it. Take your time. Use your head.¡±


    ¡°We help!¡± The mushrooms inside him squeak in a disorganized unison. ¡°We defend Metal Man!¡±


    ***


    Every epic tale should have a dragon, don¡¯t you think? This one came a little earlier than I expected, but I suppose that speaks to my excellent choice of location. Ferax is a delightfully perilous place, rife with monsters, magic, and despair. So, now that our hero is in another pickle, what do you think he should do next?


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight fights alone. He only needs to hold the dragon off until Dawn opens the door. No one else should get hurt in the meantime.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight tries to sing the same tune Compie was singing. He¡¯s made of metal too, after all. It¡¯s a gamble with high risks and high rewards.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight lets the mushrooms out to fight the monster alongside him. He¡¯ll take any help he can get.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 2 - 43 votes (8 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 - 19 votes (3 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 1 - 3 votes

 Chapter 12: The Eternal Knight chooses to sing

    The Fates decided that the knight will sing.


    Dear Fates, my charming audience, my omnipotent and all-seeing friends. My beloved enemies. You¡¯ve risked much by thinking the knight will tame the dragon by attempting to emulate the treacherous magic box¡¯s singing. Perhaps your optimism is rooted in infinite wisdom, yet I must remind you that we only control the knight, not the surrounding elements.


    What I¡¯m trying to say is that sometimes you reap what you sow.


    ***


    ¡°Stay in,¡± the knight says to the mushroom warriors. ¡°You¡¯ll get your time to shine battling the Noxis. Let me handle the dragon. Dawn, where are we with the door?¡±


    ¡°The bolts are stuck, but I can force them with magic! I need more time, prince knight sir!¡±


    Over the course of this strange day, Ren has come to rely on his instincts for answers. Whether it is the magic of the armor, luck, or some higher force guiding him, he¡¯d done well by trusting his intuition. Right now it tells him to sing Compie¡¯s eerie song. He knows he can do this. After all, they¡¯re both made of metal.


    Ren steps toward the waking dragon and bellows a high-pitched wail. The dragon stops mid-yawn and turns its attention on the knight.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Dawn hisses.


    ¡°I¡¯m singing it to sleep,¡± Ren replies as the monster¡¯s glowing eyes cast a circle of light around him. He continues his wail, but with somewhat less confidence.


    ¡°Maybe you need a different song. Something more¡­ soothing,¡± says Dawn.


    The knight knows she is right. Compared to Compie, his voice cannot match the screeching metallic wail that calmed the dragon. He can feel the monster¡¯s breath heating his armor. Fearing the mushrooms inside him will cook through, he tries another song:


    Once there was a knight so brave


    Who never, I say never, had to shave.


    His brothers wondered, ¡®where¡¯s his stubble?¡¯


    But oh, the knight, he wasn¡¯t troubled.


    The mushrooms inside the knight¡¯s armor begin to hum the tune with him on the second verse. The dragon stretches, baleful eyes still on the knight.


    Once there was a knight so true


    But, oh my friends, his face was blue¡­


    Ren thinks the dragon has begun to settle on its haunches and sings all the more loudly, until the monster pounces.


    The dragon snaps its reptilian jaws at the knight. Ren jumps out of the way of the razor-sharp teeth, but the dragon is faster. It catches his left arm, crushing it and ripping it apart. The arm breaks off into pieces and scatters across the floor. Shocked and disbelieving, the knight staggers back, tumbling to the floor. But the monster doesn¡¯t wait ¡ª a ball of blue dragon breath gathers in its throat and bursts out.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Suddenly, Dawn is in front of Ren and the torrent of flames explodes against an invisible barrier, ricocheting back at the hall, hitting the rows of pillars lining its walls. As if hit by a ballista, a pillar cracks and crumbles, then falls, crashing into the stone floor and through it.


    Dawn holds her position under the stream of molten hot fire until the dragon stops to take another breath. She slumps to her knees in front of the knight, panting.


    ¡°We need to retreat,¡± she says.


    ¡°Retreat where?¡±


    ¡°Through the crack in the floor where the pillar fell.¡±


    They run. His balance is off now that he¡¯s missing an arm. It doesn¡¯t hurt like a flesh and blood wound would, but he feels a loss of power. This time Dawn wouldn¡¯t be able to mend it as she did before.


    Ren cradles Dawn against his chest as he throws himself down the crevice, dodging another stream of dragon fire.


    The drop, longer than Ren expected, is cushioned by Dawn¡¯s powers and their eventual fall into a shallow underground stream. Above them, unseen, the dragon roars in frustrated fury. They crawl onto the embankment, beaten and battered, but far beyond the dragon¡¯s reach.


    Whimpering, Dawn shuffles back to the stream and plunges her sooty arms into the cold water. In the faint, purple glow of Violet Alert, Ren sees her curl in agony as the stream carries the dirt away, revealing raw and blistered arms. One side of her face is burned and bleeding, the hair on her temple signed to the scalp. She wipes the trickle of blood running down her cheek, but hisses as the raw, bubbling skin makes contact.


    ¡°Dawn, how bad is it?¡± the knight asks.


    She strains to smile. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing, just a little burn. It¡¯s rather romantic to be scarred in battle, all real warriors are,¡± she says. ¡°I imagine one day bards will sing of this too. I hope they get it right, especially how you almost tamed a dragon! I¡¯ll make sure they do.¡± Her voice trembles. ¡°We were so close to winning this one, if only we knew how to replicate the song.¡± She laughs, then sobs.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Dawn. I thought I could sing like Compie. It was foolish. I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d have to pay the price for my decision.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that, prince knight sir. I just wasn¡¯t strong enough to beat the dragon! Cato always said that life rarely works the way we expect it to, and now I really understand what she was trying to teach me. I still have a lot to learn, but I¡¯ll try to do better next time!¡±


    After that, the knight sits against the wall in silence as Dawn slowly falls into a fitful sleep, gently illuminated by the mushroom on Ren¡¯s head. Two warrior mushrooms climb out of his armhole, and looking at the symbiosis on his head say: ¡°We scout!¡± Feeling exhausted, Ren only nods as they scuttle upstream. Even a magical body has its limits.


    But it is hard for the knight to rest. Racked by guilt, he tries to understand what possessed him to sing in the first place. In hindsight, it doesn¡¯t sound like a good idea in the least.


    The longer Ren Londaar considers the matter, the more he¡¯s convinced that it wasn¡¯t the first time he followed an impulse that wasn¡¯t entirely his own. It was like getting an answer delivered on a silver platter and having all other courses of action outshined by the one presented to him. The feeling bordered on obsession. So far he hadn¡¯t second-guessed his decisions because they seemed to work to his advantage, but this time that feeling almost got them killed. Without an armored body he¡¯d have bled dry, and Dawn should never have gotten hurt. He looks at the sleeping girl hugging her burned arms protectively. She will need a healer.


    ¡°Am I cursed?¡± The knight¡¯s words echo at no one in the glowing cavern. ¡°Have the gods turned against me?¡±


    ***


    Oh, isn¡¯t it fun to see mortals in pain? There¡¯s no need to hide it, I know you love it. This is truly a sad sight, but we have no time to succumb to pity ¡ª as Fates you have important business to decide! Tell me, dear destiny-shapers, how does the knight resolve his existential crisis?


    Option 1: The Knight chooses self-determinism and takes responsibility for his own actions. Voices, fate, and gods are the stuff of children¡¯s stories, not to be believed by hardened warriors.


    Option 2: The Knight chooses to believe in destiny. Everything is predetermined and one cannot rewrite the future. Very spiritual of him.


    Option 3: The Knight chooses to examine that guiding impulse and concludes that the gods are messing with him. He¡¯ll be a giant ball of paranoia for the rest of his life.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 1 - 48 votes (13 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 - 26 votes (6 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 7 votes

 Chapter 13: The Eternal Knight chooses self-determinism

    The Fates decided that the knight will believe in self-determinism.


    Ah, you¡¯re not ready to show yourselves to the mortal world. As well you shouldn¡¯t. You may hold the strings, but it¡¯s not the role of a divine being to reveal the secrets of the universe to the mortal souls. The universe is too vast for them. Let them think they¡¯re in control while they grapple with the minutiae of existence.


    As we all know, knowledge without wisdom is a dangerous combination. I am of course referring to several prophets who used their divine revelations to various disastrous ends. Truth be told, I¡¯m relieved this will not be that kind of story.


    ***


    Ren shakes his helmet. Gods, destiny ¡ª that way lies madness. Strength is to take responsibility for one¡¯s own actions, the good and the bad. He cannot blame anyone else for this catastrophe.


    ¡°I write my own future,¡± he says out loud. ¡°I choose my own path, I¡¯m in control.¡±


    He stands up and tests the condition of his body. The armor obeys him. He rotates the remaining arm and finds it has a full range of mobility. Problem is, his body feels lopsided without his left arm. Mushroom warriors peek out of the armhole, excitedly oohing and aahing with the up and down motion as the knight tests his knees with a few squats. At last, Ren tugs at a scrap of metal still dangling from the broken shoulder pad, rips it free and throws it into the dark. He may only have one arm, but he will kill this monster, get his oar, and repay his debt to Dawn.


    A pattering of tiny feet heralds the mushroom scouts¡¯ arrival. ¡°Metal Man,¡± one of them says, pointing back the way they came. ¡°Noxis ahead. We close.¡±


    ¡°Perfect,¡± the Eternal Knight says.


    A grimace of pain distorts Dawn¡¯s face when Ren wakes her. She looks pale in the purple light of the Violet Alert. Ren hands her a piece of dried fish. While she eats, he clumsily rips two strips of fabric from the long, red skirt attached to his cuirass, and dunks them in the stream.


    ¡°Here,¡± he says, handing them to Dawn. ¡°Bandage your hands with these. The wet fabric will cool down the burning.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she murmurs. Then she looks glumly at her hands.


    Uncertainly, Ren says, ¡°They will heal, with time. All will be well.¡±


    Dawn sniffs, her eyes filling with tears. ¡°But I cannot levitate things like this,¡± she explains. ¡°I can¡¯t move my hands smoothly. I¡¯m so sorry, sir prince knight. I¡¯m so-¡±


    Ren kneels in front of her and gently holds her small shoulder with his gauntlet. ¡°I owe you an apology, Dawn of High Hauran,¡± he says. ¡°I was distracted and sloppy. You sacrificed yourself to save my life and I will make it up to you. From now on, I swear to protect you. I will be your shield while you heal.¡±


    Ren had hoped this would calm her, but Dawn bursts fully into tears and clumsily hugs his metal shell.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve never had a knight swear anything to me before! Let alone a prince! This is the most romantic thing that¡¯s ever happened to me. Of course, we should have been standing on a meadow or a balcony, not in a dank cavern, but your words were beautiful.¡±


    At least, she seems happier now, her spirits lifted. Dawn wraps her hands, washes her face, slowly braids her hair to keep it out of the burns on her temple, and packs hers and Ren¡¯s bags.


    They walk upstream, following the tunnel. The knight notes recent drag marks on the ground made by something heavy. Green pigment streaks mark the trail, like grass stains on linen. The monster must use this tunnel to get in and out of its lair. Good to know, the knight thinks. This will make their way back easier.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Soon they see a shimmering green glow flooding the tunnel ahead.


    ¡°Get behind me, Dawn.¡±


    Ren approaches a ruined doorway, its hinges empty, pieces of the wooden door rotting on the ground, along with driftwood, algae, rubble and...


    ¡°My oar!¡± He gasps. Among the dank and rotting litter, he sees the paddle protruding up like a neglected rake. He pulls it out. ¡°I thought I¡¯d never get it back.¡±


    Overjoyed, he watches the green and violet lights glint against the oar¡¯s polished surface, its weight distributing perfectly in his grip. His hand knows what to do, how to handle the weapon from years of practice in-


    ¡°It¡¯s a laboratory!¡± Dawn¡¯s voice pulls him from his reverie and he looks up. She stands in the doorway, peeking in tentatively. Oar in hand he steps protectively in front of her. The source of the green light seems to emanate from another room to the right, while the monster¡¯s tracks point further up to the other side of what Dawn rightly named a laboratory.


    The laboratory¡¯s brick walls are lined with overflowing shelves. Books, scrolls, and vials are in abundance. Jars ¡ª some empty, some filled with potions, some preserving specimens of plants and tiny creatures ¡ª fill one entire cabinet. A dusty table with an intricate distilling apparatus is pushed aside at an odd angle, another is overturned, its contents shattered all over the floor. Glass crunches underfoot as they enter. The Eternal Knight scans the sharp shadows cast by the eerie, green light, gauntlet gripping his oar, expecting to see movement or eyes peering at them or-


    He freezes. Something catches his eye behind the overturned table. It¡¯s not moving, so he approaches it, slowly, oar at the ready. Dawn, sensing his tension, falls behind, cautious.


    One kick is enough to push the table aside and reveal three faces staring at him from within a painting. The knight kneels down to look at it, Violet Alert illuminating the image. It¡¯s a tattered family portrait depicting an important-looking man in a long waistcoat, a beautiful woman standing beside him, dressed in a lacy, white gown, and an infant smiling in her arms. Its once elegant, gold gilded frame has come apart at one corner, the filigree chipped and peeling. The name tag, however, is still legible.


    ¡°Sir Turcifa with Lady Mafra and Miss Areia,¡± he reads.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s tragic,¡± Dawn whispers over his shoulder. ¡°Compie mentioned Turcifa had a family. Both his wife and child are dead now, aren¡¯t they? Oh, she and the little girl were so pretty too.¡± Dawn looks admiringly at the short, silky curls that cluster around the woman¡¯s head and the yellow ribbons sewn onto the baby¡¯s dress. ¡°I always wished I could wear clothes like those instead of this dull uniform,¡± she sighs. ¡°But Cato always said a sentinel needs no frills.¡±


    Ren gets up. He isn¡¯t interested in Turcifa¡¯s family. The only thing he wants is to fulfill his promise to the mushrooms and get Dawn out of here. He finds nothing but dusty old books and potions in the first room, so he examines the source of the green light next.


    ¡°Keep close, Dawn.¡±


    They step into a narrow, long hallway brimming with stems and roots that hug the old brick walls. Instinctively, Dawn claps her bandaged hands to her face. A row of large glass spheres stands to either side of the hallway, each rests nestled in an alcove, filled with glowing liquid, and inside each is a Noxis specimen. Whether the Noxis are suspended, sleeping or dead, he can¡¯t tell. There are animals: rats, birds, cats, dogs, all motionless, all sprouting leaves and vines and branches from their bodies. The mushroom warriors inside Ren¡¯s armor quiver with fear, their little spears poking through the armhole, ready to fight their cursed nemesis. The further they walk, the further the Noxis inside the spheres are developed into their ultimate monstrous shapes.


    An uneasy feeling of foreboding comes over Ren. Was experimenting on living creatures part of Turcifa¡¯s search for the cure?


    The creatures inside the vats get larger until he sees a human, curled in a fetal position, blades of grass covering his body like fur, then another with hard, bark-like skin, and another ¡ª each transformed, mutated, some barely recognizable as people.


    One vat catches Dawn¡¯s attention, and she pauses in front of it, tugging at the knight¡¯s skirt. Inside it floats a woman, her body covered in leaves and blooming flowers and instead of a number her vat is tagged with a name: ¡®Lady Mafra¡¯. Next to her is another container ¡ª this one broken. Its liquid, long since dried up, stains the floor and the glass is cracked like an eggshell. ¡®Miss Areia¡¯, the tag says.


    Dawn trembles. ¡°The¡­ The monster we fought is Turcifa¡¯s daughter, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so.¡±


    Did Turcifa sacrifice his family for his research? Or keep them frozen in time after being exposed to the Noxis? The Knight did not know ¡ª but he had seen the hate in the monster when it attacked Turcifa. Disheartened, he considered the paths before him.


    ***


    I feel like this is a momentous enough moment to warrant another intervention. You, my dear Fates, have a simple choice between two options.


    Option 1: The knight honors his promise to the mushrooms and goes on to kill the monster for them. It¡¯s time to end its suffering and end the curse that plagues Ferax, one dead monster at a time.


    Option 2: The knight decides to walk away. This monster doesn¡¯t deserve more suffering. Not at his hands. He can¡¯t prevent the mushroom warriors from fighting, but he will refuse to cause more pain to it himself.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 1 - 70 votes (27 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 10 votes (2 from Patreon supporters)

 Chapter 14: The Eternal Knight honors his promise

    The Fates decided to kill the monster.


    My dear wise Fates, there is a saying among mortals that every story must come to an end. I think it¡¯s nonsense. Utter stupidity. The greatest lie ever told. The world is a never-ending cycle of lives, deaths, and rebirths. It never stops turning its wheels of mystery. Whoever came up with the phrase must have been an uneducated buffoon. There is a much better phrase coined by yours truly that I¡¯d like to introduce you to: ¡®the story must go on¡¯.


    ***


    ¡°The least we can do is put an end to this family tragedy,¡± the knight says as the horror of Turcifa¡¯s actions dawn on him. ¡°Warpack, can you hear me?¡±


    An enthusiastic squeak rises from the mushroom warriors within him in a response.


    ¡°We are approaching the battle. I say we surprise our enemy. The monster is still unaware we have penetrated its tower. If we¡¯re stealthy, we may succeed in killing it. We¡¯ll keep our word to your king, sworn on a warrior¡¯s honor.¡±


    Excited, the mushrooms climb out of the ripped armhole, shrieking ¡°For mushroom king!¡± as they spill down to the ground en masse.


    ¡°Um, prince knight sir,¡± Dawn¡¯s voice trembles as she speaks. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare imply any disrespect because Cato taught me to respect the chain of command, but I¡¯d never forgive myself if I didn¡¯t mention this. One time I failed to bring to Cato¡¯s attention that her shoelaces were untied and she ended up tripping while briefing a battalion of mages and got laughed at and I always thought she¡¯d have preferred me telling her and preventing the embarrassment.¡±


    ¡°Dawn, what¡¯s your point?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes! I wanted to tell you we¡¯re not surprising anyone because these vines have been moving more and more and I think they¡¯re about to attack. I should have told you before. I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t want to interrupt your speech!¡±


    If the Knight had eyes, they would have rolled like water wheels. If he had time, he would have explained that the key to winning battles is clear communication, not the chain of command and that if they wanted to survive dangerous situations, it would be helpful if Dawn got to her point more quickly. But the Eternal Knight had no such luxury. By the time Dawn makes him aware of the slithering tentacles creeping around them, it is too late for a second speech.


    The knight steps in front of Dawn, who squeezes herself behind Lady Mafra¡¯s glass container, and ¡ª his battle-hardened oar in hand ¡ª blocks, ripostes, and hacks the writhing tentacles into pulpy bits of plant meat. The Warpack follows his example and bravely ¡ª if ineffectually ¡ª fight the incoming barrage. Alas, for every tentacle the knight defeats, two more appear. Soon the laboratory is full of thrashing plant-matter amongst which the knight recognizes a handful of the rosette-headed monsters he¡¯d battled on the beach. Behind them in shadows stands a small child-shaped green creature.


    ¡°Miss Areia,¡± Ren starts, but at that moment the child-monster launches a solid wooden branch, sharp as a lance, that flies toward him, bypassing his defences and piercing his chest plate. Maybe it¡¯s the force of its flight, maybe it¡¯s the note that resonates through his armor, but at that moment the knight can¡¯t move. Terror fills him.


    This wound in the armor shouldn¡¯t have incapacitated him. No, this is different, he thinks. A fear seeping from another time, another place...


    Ren Londaar is a young man ¡ª strong, capable, charismatic, but right now his eyes are darting from side to side, face to face. He¡¯s seeking a way out: escape, salvation, mercy. Some part of him still expects to wake up from the nightmare, but the iron collar biting into his neck is too real. He¡¯s naked, chained to an altar, illuminated by candlelight and surrounded by darkness. Before him stand three of the queen¡¯s gold-clad handmaidens, their faces hidden behind a lacy faceplate carved into the shape of a skull. They hum a monotonous tune, as spiritless as they themselves are.


    ¡°Mother! I never competed for the crown! I swore I¡¯d go into exile!¡±


    The great queen Thyra approaches her son, a curved ceremonial knife in her right hand. The cold blade touches his throat, its edge rasps against his stubble as it slides up, lifting his chin.


    ¡°Yes, my sweet son, I know. You were always such an obedient boy. But I raised you for this,¡± she says, voice calm as if explaining the most natural thing to a child. ¡°There is no greater sacrifice than becoming one with Ealan. Now hush, mother is working.¡± She blocks Ren¡¯s mouth with her left hand, then pushes the blade deep into his chest. He can¡¯t breathe. The world seems so small: just him, the pain, and his mother¡¯s beautiful, blood speckled face in front of his own. The handmaiden¡¯s song grows louder. He doesn¡¯t die when the queen twists the blade. He doesn¡¯t die when she plunges her hand into this chest. He sees her long nails bite into his beating heart, and he¡¯s still not dead.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    She hands it to one of her handmaidens. ¡°Prepare it for the armor. I want the new Eternal Knight ready to serve before sunrise. The emperor misses his brother.¡±


    Ren comes to on the floor, Dawn kneeling beside him.


    ¡°Prince knight sir, wake up! Please! I need you!¡±


    He feels his chest. There¡¯s a rupture in the armor where his heart would have been. He gets up, oar in hand. The child-shaped monster has disappeared, but more rosette headed creatures flood the hall, crushing the Warpack left and right. The phantom pain lingers in his memory and makes him falter.


    Dawn looks panicked. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can get out of here! What are we going to do?¡±


    ¡°We cut our way into the belly of the beast, or we die trying.¡±


    Dawn gulps audibly. ¡°I suppose this could be a romantic way to die. You with your oar, me with my air magic ¡ª armor and elf, fighting to the last scraps of metal and flesh. I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter much, if there¡¯s no one to make it a story.¡±


    Ren nods. ¡°As romantic as it gets,¡± he says. ¡°To death?¡±


    ¡°To death!¡± the mushroom warriors closest to them shout in response, skittering toward an incoming Noxis. They leap into the air, and explode on contact with the monster. Without thinking, Ren pins Dawn to the ground and shields her. The force of the blast pressure hits his armor and rumbles the very structure of the tower, shattering the glass spheres around them, releasing the fluids and creatures inside.


    Dust and smoke swirl around Ren and Dawn. The monstrous jungle that had surrounded them is burned to a crisp, clearing a path out of the laboratory. Mushrooms, unharmed, totter around seeking still moving plant matter, poking it to death.


    ¡°Warpack,¡± the knight asks, bewildered, ¡°can all of you do that?¡±


    The warrior mushrooms cheer in answer.


    ¡°Are we going to burn our way forward?¡± Dawn asks. ¡°Seems dangerous, although I bet that would get us close to former Miss Areia.¡±


    ¡°No, Dawn. I have a new plan ¡ª one that we may yet survive. We will bring down the tower and escape before it collapses on us.¡± To the mushrooms, Ren cries: ¡°Warpack, target the walls!¡±


    The rest of the battle is simple. The mushrooms, eager to sacrifice themselves to avenge their clan, accept the plan and send an evacuation warning to their king through the mycelium network. Ren and Dawn double back to the tunnel and run amidst the echoes of explosions, tremors, rubble, and falling stonework.


    When they emerge into the light, the tower already teeters and shakes against the grey-blue sky. From high atop the cliff, the mushroom clan at their side, they watch as the structure buckles and falls, the tower dropping into the sea like a felled tree, dragging Noxis with it to a watery grave.


    ¡°I could have died so many times today,¡± Dawn says, dropping to the ground, exhausted. ¡°Almost makes me wish I was made of metal.¡±


    She closes her eyes, breathing in the ocean breeze, letting the wind cool her burns and play with her hair.


    ¡°I took many hits today, Dawn,¡± Ren says sitting next to her. ¡°Unlike flesh, I cannot heal my wounds. The wind and the salty sea will rust me from inside and out, and the more we fight, the more I will disintegrate. I may not be affected by the Noxis curse, but my eternal life lasts only as long as this armor does. Besides, you know the sacrifice you said I¡¯d make for my brother? You were wrong about one thing: it wasn¡¯t voluntary ¡ª I was forced to become what I am now. There¡¯s someone in the empire who sacrificed my body for her god¡¯s favor and I believe all the Eternal Knights have suffered the same fate. Our sacrifice to serve the emperor must be a lie.¡±


    Dawn¡¯s eyes widen while the knight speaks. She stays silent for a long moment, looking at the dark grey sea and the waves that roll and break in an endless cycle.


    ¡°Prince knight sir, I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t understand much, but what I mean to say is that I understand now what Cato meant when she said that in the absence of a superior commander you should always follow your heart. And I know you don¡¯t have a heart because you don¡¯t have a body, but I¡¯m being metaphorical, so it doesn¡¯t matter. What I¡¯m trying to say, prince knight sir, is that you will know what to do, and I¡¯m with you wherever you lead us.¡±


    ***


    And so, my devoted Fates, we¡¯ve arrived at the conclusion of the first arc of the Eternal Knight¡¯s story. Ren Londaar is no longer a mere memory-less hulk of armor walking around aimlessly on the shores of Ferax. Instead, he¡¯s become a champion of mushrooms, slayer of Noxis, defender of friends ¡ª and most importantly ¡ª the owner of a fine battle oar.


    But fear not! This story is far from over! The legend of Ren Londaar has only just begun and I present you with the most important decision so far: what will drive the Eternal Knight¡¯s motivations and passions during the next arc of his story?


    Remember my dearest Fates, this will define the future.


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight swears to free Ferax from the Noxis and continues on as the mushroom¡¯s champion. The road will lead them deeper into the continent of Ferax. Who knows what they will find there?


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight dedicates himself to finding a way home. Ren doesn¡¯t understand much about his past, but he knows that the empire is in danger. Thyra, his mother and an evil sorceress, needs to be stopped.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight¡¯s mind is plagued by the fear of disintegrating into nothingness and he cannot focus on other goals before he becomes fully human again. He will seek out someone to help him gain his body back.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option 2 - 51 votes (25 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 - 27 votes (6 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 - 21 votes

 Chapter 15: The Knight is searching for a way back home

    The Fates decided the knight will dedicate himself to finding a way home.


    Here we are at the dawn of a new arc of our story. I am pleased to see familiar faces in the crowd as well as a few new ones. It is said that nothing is better than sharing a story with a friend, but sharing it with friends as cruel and devious as you lot it¡¯s even better. The best stories are about overcoming difficulties and for those challenges ¡ª which have been many ¡ª I have you, dear Fates, to thank for.


    Now let¡¯s resume where we left off: making life difficult for our skull-headed knight.


    ***


    It is two weeks since Ren Londaar, the Eternal Knight, and his companion Dawn fought the Noxis.


    Ren sits on a small stool outside a hut in the fishing village of Little Hope. His gaze is on the sea and his skull is full of questions. How will he find a ship to carry himself and Dawn across the waters, home to the Ritain Empire? And once there, what will his welcome? Will his brother be pleased he has survived? Or his mother, Queen Thyra, who forced him to give up his human body?


    ¡°What are you thinking about, prince knight sir?¡± Dawn asks from inside the hut. She¡¯s laying on a thin mattress, tended by the village¡¯s healer, one Elder Maquin. The horrible burns she sustained in their fight against the dragon nearly killed her. Ren had to carry her for days to reach this village. He¡¯d nearly given up on her.


    ¡°Wondering how our mushroom friends are doing,¡± lied the knight, turning his attention to Dawn. He¡¯d fulfilled his oath to the fungi, and they¡¯d parted ways with the mushroom warpack and the symbiote after the battle at the tower.


    ¡°The mushroom spearmen?¡± asks Elder Maquin, not bothering to keep the incredulity from her crisp voice. The old woman takes every opportunity to express her disbelief about their story. The only part she does seem to take seriously is the dragon -- she claims she has seen wounds from dragon fire before and recognizes Dawn¡¯s hurts.


    ¡°Yes!¡± says Dawn enthusiastically. ¡°They were quite fierce, Elder Maquin. And brave. Can you imagine battling something that is twenty times your own height? Or a hundred times? I cannot. And yet, they leapt into battle with me and his royal knightness without a hesitation. And then against the Noxis too. Did we tell you they exploded as well?¡±


    Elder Maquin nods indulgently to her. ¡°Yes, child. You did.¡± She pats Dawn¡¯s pink hair fondly. The villagers are yet wary of the Eternal Knight, but they seemed to have become quickly fond of Dawn. ¡°Now hold still while I reapply this poultice.¡±


    Dawn cannot help but wriggle as the old woman works. Elder Maquin¡¯s face is like a weathered statue. She had clearly been beautiful in the past, but harsh winds and sunshine have hardened her expression. Her voice, still strong, carries much respect in the community. It was her voice that let them into the village -- when some would have let Dawn to die in the Knight¡¯s arm.


    ¡°You can get up tomorrow,¡± Elder Maquin says as she changes Dawn¡¯s bandages, ¡°but you have to promise to take it slow, child.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow?¡± Dawn groans. ¡°But I feel good already, Elder Maquin! Look, the burns don¡¯t hurt at all. I¡¯m okay, so please, please, please, please, please let me help the prince knight!¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°The burns are not what I¡¯m worried about,¡± Elder Maquin answers patiently. ¡°Look.¡±


    She holds up a pair of tweezers. In their grasp is a thin green vine. ¡°I found Noxis infestation growing out of your ear. I removed it ¡ª seed and all ¡ª but I need more time to observe how bad the infection is. From what you told me, you¡¯ve spent a lot of time in a Noxis lair, breathing the air.¡±


    Dawn grows pale at the sight of the coiled seedling. ¡°This means Turcifa¡¯s eye doesn¡¯t work unless it¡¯s in the eye socket, doesn¡¯t it? Oh, but I don¡¯t feel any different! Maybe the fact that I¡¯m an elf means I won¡¯t turn into a monster as Turcifa did. It¡¯s only normal that I have a strong, positive bond with nature, isn¡¯t it? I mean, having flowers grow out of you is kind of divine.¡±


    ¡°Humph,¡± said Maquin. ¡°I don¡¯t think King Cirus thought so.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± asks the knight.


    ¡°The elven wizard who ruled Ferax and who loosed the Noxis upon the land when he was betrayed,¡± replies the old woman, as though this is obvious. ¡°Why did you come to Ferax if you didn¡¯t know anything about the place?¡±


    ¡°I told you how we got here,¡± grumbles the knight.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± says Maquin. ¡°A shipwreck. How probable.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± calls a voice from the village, prompting Ren to turn. Helia, one of the villagers is nearly running towards them. ¡°Hey, metal man! We need help at the nets! Big catch!¡±


    The knight rises, saying: ¡°Please make sure she¡¯s safe from the Noxis, healer.¡±


    Maquin snorts. ¡°How do you think this village has survived? We catch the infections early.¡±


    ¡°Come on, sir metal man!¡± says Helia, impatiently. He¡¯d warmed up the knight quicker than the others, even becoming playful with giant enchanted armor. The Knight obeys, striding along beside the skinny fisherman.


    ¡°How¡¯s the lass?¡± he asks as they walk the short distance to the shore. The village is nestled in a small cove on the shoreline, all built on soil too rocky to grow either crops or the cursed flora of Ferax.


    ¡°Nearly well, I think.¡± says the knight.


    ¡°Ah, good, good,¡± says the man. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking of leaving still, are you? Because it¡¯s madness, plain madness, to wander around just the two of you. Steel sinews or no. You should stay here. You¡¯d be welcome! We could start calling the place A-Little-More-Hope.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t stay,¡± says the knight. He must go home.


    Helia sighs, shaking his head at this stubbornness. They reach the shore, where a dozen other villagers are lined up to help pull a heavy net from the ocean.


    ¡°I hope it¡¯s a whale!¡± Helia rubs his hands together and then grasps the rope. Ren joins him. ¡°It¡¯s not heavy enough to be a whale, but maybe a shark!¡± says another villager.


    With no fertile soil, no animals to herd, the village survives off the treasures of the sea. Everything, be it shelter or clothes, was made from what the sea gave them. Capturing a whale meant security for weeks.


    ¡°That¡¯s no shark.¡± Helia scoffs, disappointed. ¡°It¡¯s metal.¡±


    Tangled in the net, surrounded by fish and algae, is a suit of golden armor swaddled in a red cape. Clutched in one gauntlet is a long, slender blade. ¡°Metal man, is this a relative of yours?¡± Helia and the others look between the two suits of armor nervously.


    The golden armor, delicately engraved with swirls, its helmet a lacy skull-shaped mask, isn¡¯t alien to the knight. He recognizes it from his last memory as a human being: this is one of Thyra¡¯s handmaidens.


    ¡°Seems dead,¡± an older fisherman says, prodding her leg. ¡°Must¡¯ve been in the sea for a long time.¡±


    ¡°Think it¡¯s like our knight?¡± Helia asks. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s some fish inside. What do you say, fellas, shall we crack it open and see if we got lucky?¡±


    ***


    And so, my dearest Fates, we resume our weekly ritual of bending destiny. Let us vote for what the knight does when faced with a shadow from his past!


    I¡¯m eager to see which way you will cast your vote.


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight asks the fishermen to be careful when inspecting the handmaiden¡¯s armor. He has a feeling this won¡¯t end well. Better to stay out of the way in case things go bad.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight pulls the villagers aside and attempts to destroy the handmaiden armor with his bare fist. Strike first, ask questions later.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight tells the fishermen that she''s an evil witch and they need to cage her. He immediately goes to search the surrounding coastline for others of her kind.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option1 -26 votes (13 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 3 -33 votes (12 from Patreon supporters)


    Option 2 -7 votes (2 from Patreon supporters)

 Chapter 16: The Eternal Knight warns the villagers

    The Fates decided the knight will warn the villagers.


    And so, by your divine decree, the knight will have to deal with this blast from the past carefully, trying to keep the village of Little Hope safe as he does so.


    What are you whispering about? Is that a betting pool? Unbelievable. Can I see the board? Hold it up, please. Higher. Yes, there you go. ¡®Will someone die in this segment?¡¯ I see the yes¡¯s are leading. You¡¯re a pessimistic bunch, aren¡¯t you?


    Put me in for a ¡®yes¡¯ too. Thank you.


    ***


    ¡°Helia, we need to cage her. Now,¡± the Eternal Knight says. ¡°She¡¯s a dangerous witch from Ritain. I remember her from my past life, she¡¯s one of the cultists who bound me to this armor.¡±


    The nightmarish memory of being stabbed and having his heart ripped out of his chest flashes through the knight¡¯s mind. He pushes it aside. This isn¡¯t the time for reminiscing.


    Helia looks around at the other fishermen and laughs nervously. ¡°Cage her? Like a lobster, metal man?¡±


    The Eternal Knight isn¡¯t amused when he says: ¡°Helia, I don¡¯t know if I can protect from you from her if she wakes up. I don¡¯t even know whether I can protect myself. Especially if there are more of them around. Please, help me bind her.¡±


    In truth, he wasn¡¯t sure what to expect from this encounter, but so far whenever his shrouded past revealed itself, the consequences weren¡¯t rainbows and happiness. Over the past two weeks, he¡¯d grown to like the villagers ¡ª enough for him to regret staying with them and bringing this danger to their doorstep.


    ¡°All right, metal man,¡± Helia says, picking up on the knight¡¯s tone. ¡°We¡¯ll get a chain to bind her with.¡° He waves his hand at two other fishermen. ¡°Rehman, Hari. Go scout the coast and see if there are more armors walking around. And wear a damn mask so you don¡¯t catch the Noxis curse.¡±


    Rehman and Hari leave immediately while Helia oversees others untangling the handmaiden from the fishing net and binding her arms behind her back with a rusty old chain.


    ¡°We can¡¯t loosen her grip on that sword she¡¯s carrying,¡± says Helia, frowning. ¡°Will this do, metal man?¡± Helia asks.


    ¡°It¡¯s a start,¡± says Ren, turning for the healer¡¯s hut and then stopping again. Dawn. What would Dawn think of an Imperial handmaiden washed up on the beach? He hadn¡¯t told her about his vision, about the villainy of the Queen in turning him into an Eternal Knight... ¡±


    Helia is speaking behind him: ¡°Honestly, you taking the protection of the village so seriously gives me hope you might¡ª¡±


    A deafening screech fills the air. Ren whirls back to the handmaiden. She is on her knees, head thrown back, screaming. The fishermen gathered on the shore clasp their hands around their ears.


    Her armored arms twist behind her, wrenching this way and that, trying to get free. If she was, Ren is certain he would be dead already.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Then she speaks, her voice a deep whisper, metallic and inhuman. In many ways ¡ª he realizes with distress ¡ª it¡¯s similar to his own.


    ¡°Traitor! Murderer! Prisoner! You thought you could escape your punishment for plotting to kill the emperor? You thought he wouldn¡¯t dare send his army to the cursed land of Ferax? That you could hide here forever? But I, Lydia the Sixth Sword, have found you and I swear to take your treacherous soul back to Ritain to face your emperor¡¯s judgment!¡±


    ¡°Metal-man...?¡± Helia says, backing away from them both..


    ¡°I...¡± Ren Londaar is lost for words. Her accusation, cutting deep, left Ren feeling naked and defenseless. The few things he remembers from his past don¡¯t contradict the handmaiden¡¯s accusation. Did he already act on the knowledge of queen Thyra¡¯s betrayal? Or did he deserve her punishment too?


    ¡°You plotted to kill the emperor?¡± Says a meek voice behind them. Dawn has come out to the beach, holding the knight¡¯s oar in her hands. Her eyes are wide, unfocused. ¡°I¡¯ve been assisting an assassin?¡±


    Ren steps towards her, but Dawn recoils, fearful and disgusted. She lets go of the oar like it was a murder weapon, further incriminating her each second she holds it. It drops to the sand at the knight¡¯s feet.


    ¡°Dawn, I don¡¯t remember those things. The only thing I know is that I was made an Eternal Knight against my will. I could have been framed for the betrayal! I wouldn¡¯t have harmed my brother or the empire.¡±


    Dawn¡¯s lip trembles. ¡°How do you know?¡± she asks, ¡°If you can¡¯t remember?¡± She backs off further.


    The fear in her eyes makes Ren feel more alone than he can bear. He picks up the oar and turns back to the handmaiden. ¡°Tell her I have not betrayed the empire,¡± he growls. ¡°Queen Thyra is the one who¡ª¡± but he can¡¯t remember what exactly she¡¯d done, aside from steal his body.


    ¡°Disgusting lies!¡± The handmaiden seethes. ¡°More treachery! And a fallen sentinel, no less. Free me, child, and you alone will suffer for this transgression ¡ª for aiding a traitor to the empire. Free me, and I will not pursue your family when I return home.¡±


    Dawn sobs behind the knight. His gauntlet tightens around the oar¡¯s shaft. Fury rises in him, blinding him, fueling him. He runs at the vile witch, swings the oar, aims at her head and strikes. But the handmaiden had anticipated it. Too late, Ren sees her shift her weight. The oar hits the rusty chain wound around her arms and midriff and the chain cracks. With the fluidity of a dancer, she twists up and out of the knight¡¯s range, and then answers his next blow with her nimble sword.


    The handmaiden skillfully dodges his raging, relentless attacks. Ren never lands a blow, but she doesn¡¯t either. Then the handmaiden dodges another swing and darts behind him.


    ¡°Not so fast!¡± Ren roars and swings.


    She sidesteps the oar which scatters sand as she continues running onward like an arrow, straight at Dawn. The sharp, pointed fingers of her left hand bury themselves in Dawn¡¯s hair, pulling her head back, her right hand holding the blade to Dawn¡¯s exposed throat. The elf looks like a crying rag doll in the handmaiden¡¯s iron hold, powerless, and terrified.


    ¡±Drop your weapon and surrender peacefully,¡± the handmaiden says, ¡°or I will execute this traitor here and now. If you obey, I might leave her and let her live the rest of her worthless life here. In return, you will remove your remaining arm and become my prisoner as I take you back to Ritain to face your judgment.¡±


    ***


    And so the battle between passionate fury and calculated skill ends. Emotions may be the spice of life, but cold calculation will get you where you need to go faster. That said, it¡¯s nice to see the knight get in touch with his feelings for once. And I seem to have lost my bet. Oops.


    But enough rambling. How do you want Ren to handle this... sensitive situation?


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight negotiates with the handmaiden. After all, they both want to return to Ritain empire. They should work together for now.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight tries to free Dawn. It¡¯s a risk, but his fury powers his actions. No one threatens his friends.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight surrenders to the handmaiden and agrees to her conditions. Seeing Dawn threatened sobers him up and extinguishes his wrath.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option1-38 votes (26from Patreon supporters)


    Option2-35 votes (12from Patreon supporters)


    Option3-19 votes

 Chapter 17: The Eternal Knight will negotiate

    The Fates decided the knight will negotiate with the handmaiden.


    Diplomacy! This is new territory for our hero, I must say. Then again, apart from swinging his oar, he hasn¡¯t shown aptitude in too many disciplines as yet, so maybe he finds he has a silver tongue. Without further ado, let¡¯s hear him talk himself out of this one. Or try to.


    ***


    Surrender, Ren thinks, never.


    He holds the oar pointed at his deadly opponent, frozen in place. The rage he felt earlier dissipates and mingles with fear. The elven girl has been there for him almost since he woke up. She¡¯s part of most of his memories. Losing Dawn would mean losing the only connection he¡¯s had to solid reality. Her safety comes first ¡ª he can¡¯t risk a head-on attack with the handmaiden¡¯s blade pressed to her throat.


    The villagers have backed off, watching the stalemate from a safe distance, fishing spears, nets, and axes in hand, ready to defend themselves, but not without provocation. Good, that¡¯s how they stay alive ¡ª unlike me, he realizes. There¡¯s something in him that just keeps looking for trouble.


    The handmaiden¡¯s thin, sharp blade bites deeper into Dawn¡¯s throat. Dawn quivers, her breath shaking with quiet sobs.


    ¡°If I surrendered,¡± Ren asks, stalling for time, ¡°would you even know where to go from here? Do you have a plan?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I have a plan,¡± the handmaiden hisses. Ren senses hesitation in the metal voice though.


    ¡°March through a cursed jungle with two prisoners?¡± asks the knight, mockingly. ¡°Grow wings, and fly home?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a Ritain base on the coast of Ferax,¡± she snarls. ¡°It will have a Windrunner airship, ready to fly at a moment¡¯s notice.¡±


    Ren feels a flicker of hope: so there is a way out of Ferax after all. He doesn¡¯t know what this Windrunner airship is, but it sounds like the best piece of news he¡¯s heard in all his memory.


    ¡°Ah,¡± says Ren. ¡°And which way, exactly, is this base?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you.¡±


    The Eternal Knight nods. ¡°Because you don¡¯t know,¡± he says. ¡°You¡¯re as lost as we are. Well, more lost. We have a map.¡±


    When the handmaiden says nothing, he continues: ¡°As it happens, we are trying to survive Ferax and return to Ritain. Our goals align, for now, and Ferax is no place to travel alone. Let the girl go and we¡¯ll accompany you. Not as prisoners, but as companions.¡±


    ¡°You underestimate me, filth. I can handle anything Ferax has to throw at me.¡±


    ¡°I held my own against you with only one arm,¡± Ren points out, ¡°but I couldn¡¯t beat the monsters we faced with two.¡±


    Again, she hesitates ¡ª then says: ¡°And when we get to the ship?¡±


    ¡°We duel,¡± says the knight. ¡°When we get to the ship, all bets are off and we continue where we left off today. We¡¯ll just be that much closer to home.¡±


    The handmaiden doesn¡¯t move for a long moment. Her golden armor glints in the rising sun and the frayed edges of her red cloak flap in the ocean breeze.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she says, straightening up and lifting the sword off Dawn¡¯s throat, letting her fall to her knees and scramble away from them both. ¡°We will travel together, traitor. But if I see one wrong move from you, I will cut the girl down.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Ren ignores her and approaches Dawn, kneels before her, sets the oar in the sand and takes her small, scarred hand into his gauntlet. ¡°Dawn, I don¡¯t know enough about my past to promise you I¡¯m a good man, but I vowed to protect you and I always will. Besides,¡± he adds as Dawn lifts her tear-filled eyes, ¡°what would an epic adventure be without a few tragic moments that turn out well in the end? Will you come with me?¡±


    Dawn doesn¡¯t smile, but she nods and gets up.


    ¡°Helia,¡± the knight turns to the fisherman. He¡¯s been following the fight along with the rest of the village, and looks relieved now it appears to be over. ¡°Dawn and I are leaving the village. You¡¯ll be safe after we¡¯re gone. Would you bring our bags from Elder Maquin¡¯s infirmary and provide provisions for Dawn?¡±


    Helia nods and calls for everyone to retreat inside the walls. Soon he reappears with Turcifa¡¯s bags, filled with food for the road, Elder Maquin at his heels. She hugs Dawn and hands her a pouch. ¡°There¡¯s a jar of ointment inside,¡± she explains. ¡°Use it for your scars once a day and they¡¯ll heal faster. I also gave you a mask that will prevent you from breathing the cursed spores. Farewell.¡±


    ¡°Safe travels,¡± Helia says, glancing at the handmaiden waiting for them, motionless like a statue.


    The handmaiden chooses a direction after looking at Dawn¡¯s map collection and they set off, both parties keeping a wary distance.


    When night comes, Ren stops. They had walked up to a narrow headland, windswept and devoid of vegetation. He climbs the rocky outcrop until he¡¯s at the very tip. Before him stretches a strait, separating them from another piece of land, mirroring the shape of the cliff he stands on. Far off in the distance, over the strip of sea, Ren sees a dense jungle stretch as far as the eye can see.


    He lights a fire and sets up camp. Dawn, exhausted, falls asleep next to him. Reluctantly, the handmaiden sits on the other side of the small fire, staring at the knight, hand pointedly on the hilt of her sword. Ren returns the glare and sits closer to the sleeping girl. They don¡¯t speak for hours, keeping silent vigil under the stars.


    Late in the night, Ren sees something move against the sky ¡ª a dark shape rises over the jungle canopy across the strait: massive, inhuman, and moving slowly.


    He rises, shouldering his oar.


    ¡°Where are you going, traitor?¡± says the handmaiden, leaping up and half-drawing her sword. Silently, the knight points.


    Trees around the shape crack and fall in its path. The shadow begins to glow with green speckles, then the luminescence fills the whole being, spreading down its long body, and illuminates the surrounding forest. It rears its neck back and as if on an exhale, millions of brilliant lights flow into the air in a luminous cloud. It rises and bends in the wind, scattering inland and eventually descending and disappearing under the canopy. The creature, black and shadowy once more, dives and disappears into the jungle.


    The Eternal Knight and the handmaiden stand side by side, watching the display in awe.


    ¡°This place should be scourged ¡ª burnt to ash,¡± says the handmaiden.


    Ren does not reply, going back to the fire to sit once more beside Dawn.


    In the morning, they continue their subdued trek. The silence of the first day appears to have worn down Dawn¡¯s reticence, and after the knight tells her about the luminous creature he saw the night before, she talks almost non-stop about everything from the creature to her favorite foods, stories about Cato and their poor odds of surviving Ferax.


    ¡°...I mean,¡± she prattles, frustrated. ¡°Cato would have known what to do in the presence of an evil spirit dragon. She used to travel a lot with her army unit in her youth, so I¡¯m sure she faced off with a spirit or two. I-¡°


    She cuts off her sentence as they come around a rocky outcropping on the shore. Far down the beach is a strange scene. The jungle comes close to the shore here and near the trees is an overturned wheelbarrow, packaged food scattered around it. Three men, masked, daggers in hand, stand in a circle around a white-robed man, his clothes pristine next to the dirty rags hanging off their thin shoulders. Closer, another white-robed man is fleeing towards the knight and his companions, sobbing.


    He falls to his knees before Ren, pleading: ¡°Please, sir! Help us!¡± His hands grab at a bloodied robe. ¡°They¡¯re killing us!¡±


    The Eternal Knight heads forward, readying his oar. ¡°Stand down, traitor,¡± the handmaiden snarls. ¡°This petty quarrel is beneath our concern!¡±


    ¡°You want to wrestle with me, witch?¡± asks the knight without looking back. ¡°I¡¯m not here to observe slaughter.¡±


    The surrounded white-robed man is praying as the knight approaches: ¡°Dear gods, let me live. Let me fulfill my mission. Oh, gods¡­¡±


    The three men look at him with distaste, their backs to Ren, Dawn and the handmaiden.


    ***


    It seems our hero has bought time to explore what Ferax has to offer. For now, that means settling fights. Whose side will the Eternal Knight take?


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight rescues the praying man. There may be some killing involved.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight distracts the three scoundrels by talking to them. Anyway, they look like they¡¯re in more need of help than their victims.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight knocks them all out and interrogates the men in white and the scoundrels. If there are opposing factions in this area, he wants to know all there is to know about them.


    The Fates have chosen:


    Option3 -40 votes (19 from Patreon supporters)


    Option2-39 votes (19 from Patreon supporters)


    Option3-6 votes

 Chapter 17: The Eternal Knight knocks them all out

    The Fates decided the knight will knock everyone out.


    I see you have wised up, mighty Fates. It is a good idea to investigate before killing people. I am proud of you, but don''t get too comfortable ¡ª sometimes those who are slow to act miss out on an unexpected opportunity.


    What? Who said I sound like a second-rate fortune teller? Reveal yourself at once! I¡¯ll show you who¡¯s second-rate!


    Ahem, where were we? Ah, yes, our mortal hero is being compelled to deal a round of concussions to his new acquaintances. Hmm... poor Ren Londaar is acting a bit erratic, don¡¯t you think? Perhaps holding onto a personality with a throng of Fates pulling your strings is too much for our amnesiac hero? Well, what is done is done!


    ***


    Ren hesitates for a split second before swinging the oar in a wide arc. It knocks out two of the thugs. A jab and uppercut later the third robber and the white clad man fall to the ground. The knight turns to the man who had run to him for help. He looks up at the giant and faints.


    ¡°What have you done?¡± Dawn gasps.


    ¡°They¡¯re just unconscious,¡± the knight replies. ¡°I got a feeling we may want to hear them out before judging.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for judgement. What is the point of getting involved?¡± the handmaiden scoffs. ¡°Let¡¯s move on.¡±


    The Eternal Knight grabs two unconscious men by their collars, and lets them slump in sitting positions. ¡°Dawn, get me a rope, will you?¡± he says. Dawn nods, produces a rope from her bag, and begins tying the prisoners¡¯ hands and collecting their weapons in a pile.


    After two weeks on the road, Ren has stopped getting flashbacks of his heart being ripped out of his chest every time he sees the handmaiden, but her presence still grates on his nerves. What was the point? he thinks. The point is to gather information. Isn¡¯t it a good idea to investigate before killing people? Or watching people get killed?


    ¡°Prince knight sir,¡± Dawn says, peering at the robbers¡¯ faces. ¡°I think these are women.¡±


    The leather armor under the tattered clothes hid their forms and the anti-noxis masks obscured their faces, but on a closer look Ren realizes they are indeed women.


    ¡°Are the chains in the weapons pile theirs?¡± Ren asks, pointing at the short pieces of rusty and bloodied chains. An odd choice for a weapon, he thought, hefting his oar.


    Dawn nods. ¡°All the weapons I found are theirs,¡± she explains. ¡°But the older of the victims had a medallion on him.¡± She hands it to Ren. It gleams rosy gold in the sun, a leaf motif runs around its edge and the figure in the middle is polished to a high sheen.


    The handmaiden stands back, impassive, watching as Ren positions his prisoners in two rows facing one another and wakes them up with a potful of seawater. He addresses them once the group has stopped spluttering: ¡°You might have guessed that I¡¯m not from around here. Both sides will have one chance to explain the situation to me. You there,¡± he turns to the older man in white, ¡°You start. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°I am called Henar,¡± the old man says. ¡°We come from the Temple of Cirus, a day''s journey to the north. Our numbers are growing, so the town sent us out to find a suitable place for a new colony. We were ambushed by these heathen slavers from Last Haven. They murdered one of our number before you¡­ intervened. We must find our brother and bury him properly. He must have the rites!¡± Henar¡¯s voice rises as he speaks, glaring at the women. With a struggle, he regains his composure, saying sullenly: ¡°With your permission, good sir.¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Heathen slavers?¡± One of the women shouts. Her friends glare as fiercely as the old man. ¡°These men are lucky to keep their lives after we take them prisoner. Do you know what the Children of Cirus do? They deliberately contract the Noxis curse and attack us as mutants. We have to capture them before they kill everyone. We¡¯re merely protecting ourselves. And it¡¯s not our fault they¡¯re too crazy for anything but hard labor. Prisoners work in Last Haven, just like everyone else. There¡¯s no room for idle hands on this shore. It¡¯s better than fair.¡±


    ¡°Prince knight sir,¡± Dawn approaches Ren, climbing on her tippy toes and whispering audibly. ¡°I had a look at these daggers and they are well made. Perhaps whoever made them can help forge you a new arm. I don¡¯t know how your armor¡¯s magic works, but Cato always said: ¡®Dawn, it¡¯s better to make a mistake instead of crying around.¡¯ I think she meant to teach me there¡¯s nothing lost in trying.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a skilled armorer among your-¡° Ren begins to ask, but the prisoners are now all staring at Dawn, mouths open, eyes bulging. Simultaneously all of them erupt into exclamations of joy, babbling variously: ¡°She¡¯s an elf!¡± ¡°Did you see those ears?¡± ¡°She¡¯s a REAL ELF!¡± ¡°Lord Cirus has returned, the prophecy is coming true!¡±


    ¡°What...?¡± Ren begins, as Dawn trips on his feet and stumbles, withdrawing like a spooked deer.


    ¡°Lady Cirus, free us and come to the temple where your loyal servants await!¡± Henar implores Dawn, struggling to his knees. ¡°We¡¯ve been cleansing Ferax in your honor for decades. Now we await your guidance. There are hundreds of your most loyal followers in the Temple of Cirus and the surrounding village, awaiting the blessing of the Noxis. We are ready to heed your every command. Blessed be the day!¡±


    ¡°No, don¡¯t listen to him!¡± The woman who spoke before cries out. ¡°Come to Last Haven with us! My name is Raki and I am the Captain of the Gatekeepers. Return with us and I will present you to our ruler, Nitanna. She will give you whatever you need. You spoke of an armorer? We have a dwarven blacksmith whom we acquired several years ago. If anyone can help you forge armor pieces, he can. Please, holy one, come to Last Haven.¡±


    The handmaiden, suddenly standing behind Dawn, hisses in her ear: ¡°They seem to believe you are their god, traitor. Or their lost king. Are you colluding against your emperor? Again?¡± She adds the last word with malevolent satisfaction.


    ¡°No, of course not!¡± Dawn looks horrified. ¡±In the name of the empire, I¡¯m not colluding with them, I promise!¡±


    ¡°Step away from Lady Cirus!¡± Henar orders, straining against the ropes. ¡°Do not threaten her divinity!¡±


    Raki and her friends throw themselves bodily at Dawn¡¯s feet. ¡°Last Haven is at your disposal! You needn¡¯t fear anything, my lady. Are these two your enemies?¡± They seem ready to attack the knight and the handmaiden, bound hands or not.


    ¡°N- no!¡± Dawn stammers.


    What if, Ren thinks, looking at the scene playing out before him, what if Dawn was their lost god? Their Lady Cirus? It could make their passage through this place easier. Finding supplies on the journey has been difficult, even though Dawn eats little. The armorer is a temptation too, but it sounds like there were a lot of people who could be saved from the Noxis, if Dawn could talk them out of it. Then again, this detour could end badly like every single detour we¡¯ve taken so far.


    He sets a hand on Dawn¡¯s shoulder and gently directs her away from the prisoners. Seething, the handmaiden follows.


    ¡°We should ignore these fools,¡± she says when they¡¯re out of earshot. ¡°Leave them to perish on the shore or kill each other.¡±


    The knight pointedly ignores her and says to Dawn: ¡°Are you up for playing the part?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trained for impersonating a god or a Lady,¡¯ she answers, shooting a sidelong glance at the handmaiden. ¡°Cato did her best to prepare me for every situation she could think of, but she left this one out. Prince knight sir, I¡­ I still trust you. I¡¯ll do whatever you think is best.¡±


    The handmaiden groans. ¡°If you do this, your charade will end in misfortunate as they realize your treacherous elven puppet lacks any real divine qualities."


    ***


    The Eternal Knight awaits an answer to our eternal question: which path to choose? Will he side with a group of devoted cultists or a group of devoted slavers? Of course, the Eternal Knight could act like a rational being and agree with the words of the Handmaiden, but I¡¯ll eat my shoes if that ever happens. What will it be, oh illustrious Fates?


    Option 1: The Eternal Knight chooses to go to Last Haven and visit their blacksmith.


    Option 2: The Eternal Knight chooses to go to the Temple of Cirus and have Dawn try to save the cultists.


    Option 3: The Eternal Knight chooses to move onwards and never look back. It is a silly place.


    Go to https://poll.fm/10464816</a> to cast your vote!


    The chapter voting closes every Monday at 8:00 AM WEST (Lisbon, Portugal time).