The Endless Forest

Tal, listen to me carefully, the entity known as Cassius said. The High Prophet’s presence and awareness is here but not the man himself. We can get through this, but you must listen.

He, as Cassius thought of himself, waited for Tal to calm down. He did not blame the boy, for he himself had not expected this. Still, they had very little time and Tal was going to have to do something unsavory…

What do we do? The boy asked, barely containing his nerves.

First, I will have to retreat back to the amulet and hide. And you… You will have to submit yourself to the curse–

No! I will not!

If Cassius could sigh, he would have. Instead, he pressed on. Tal, the reason why you must is because of how I have been tricking the curse. The High Prophet believes you have finally submitted to it, and that you are now his pawn for good.

You wish for me to do exactly what he wants?!

Yes, but there is nothing to fear. I can regain control once his presence is gone. He added one final promise, I will not let you perish.

There was a stretch of silence that worried Cassius, they were drawing ever closer to the one they feared. But finally, Tal agreed.

Fine.

That was all the boy said, that was all he needed to say. Cassius immediately withdrew from the boy’s mind, slowly letting the curse settle back into place.

A few moments later, he was back within the amulet, pulling himself towards its core. There was little else he could do. If the High Prophet found him, it would be over. Tal would most assuredly die and he would have to endure another eternity of torture.

But there is a chance, and it is my domain. Cassius ‘smiled’ at the thought. The God of Chance had, ironically, spent centuries putting this plan together.

But is it though? Is it truly ironic? Every gambler knows to stack the odds in their favor. I bided my time, endured my torture, and waited for my moment.

There was still much left to chance, for even the most well thought out plans simply gave you better odds. Here and now was a prime example. But Cassius had already hedged his own bets. Too much was at stake.

And even he, who was reduced to a wisp, could feel the changes in the air. First was the return of Felix, that alone had sent ripples across the world. But now there was another disturbance.

An ancient, forgotten Goddess had appeared. Cassius and the other spirits had shuddered, even the so-called Lord had paused.

Felix created a ripple, but it was quickly becoming a wave.

A wave that could flood this wretched land.

Tal receded deep within his mind, his body no longer his to control. His thoughts were an empty void. Yet, he could see, he could hear, he could smell and touch.

It was a strange state for him, that is, until he submitted fully to the curse. Now, a simple husk, he moved forward. Admiral Antony walked in step with him, giving him a concerned look.

“Tal? Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yes.” The answer was automatic, devoid of any emotion.

“Very well…” The Admiral furrowed his brow, perhaps sensing something was wrong. Unfortunately for the both of them, there was nothing they could do. They had reached their destination.

Tal’s body waited until the door was opened before stepping in. Immediately before him was the High Prophet, a projection of golden light surrounded him. At his feet were three apostles, each kneeling in prayer and powering the spell that brought the Prophet form.

“Champion Tal! Fleet Admiral Antony! I am glad you are able to join us. Come, please, take a seat.”

The command was felt by Tal. “As you wish, Your Holiness.” His body began moving to obey.

The room itself was spartan with a single large table taking up most of the space. Chairs surrounded it, filled with the Admiral's advisors. The only decorations were a few tapestries that hung from the rear wall, their designs simple.

This was a room meant for planning, not for meeting with the High Prophet.

Tal took his seat, near the front, while the Admiral sat opposite of him.

The Prophet’s projection shifted and changed as he took to his own throne. “Now that we are all here, let us get down to the problem at hand.”

The room grew cold and uncomfortable. Antony and his men shifted in their seats, all the while Tal sat motionlessly.

“Fleet Admiral.”

“Y-Yes, Your Holiness?” Sweat began to form on the Admiral’s brow.

“Care to explain to me why you, your men, and my Champion are still within the walls of Ancor?”

“Your Holiness, this is no simple mission. With only five thousand men, we are to force landing upon the island. I have sent multiple requests asking for more–”

“I am aware of your requests, but I have not deigned them worth my time. My orders were clear, concise– Make haste, is that not what I wrote?”

“It is–”

“Then why are you all still here?” the High Prophet hissed. “Do you not know what has transpired?”

The Admiral looked to his advisors, they in turn looked just as confused as him. “What has transpired, Your Holiness?” he asked.

“Ah, so it is your so-called advisors that have failed you.”

The pressure in the room increased, the tension so thick it could be cut.

“Your Holiness–”

“Champion, come and kneel before me.”

Tal’s body obeyed. “Yes, Your Holiness?”

“Kill the advisors.”

The room was filled with sudden shouts.

“As you wish, Your Holiness.” He stood, letting the holy energy within him well up. There was no sword at his side but that would hardly matter.

“Tal! Wait, listen to me!” The Admiral shouted as he tried to stand. However, a moment later he was forced back into his seat.

“No, you will not interfere. You will watch, Fleet Admiral.” The High Prophet said, his hand raised out towards them.

Only then, did the others realize they could not move. The shouts amplified, turning into screams of rage and panic.

Tal simply approached the first.

A younger man, perhaps in his late twenties, watched in wide-eyed horror as Tal laid his hand on him.

A simple curse was cast, the man wailed out in agony.

***

“It is done, Your Holiness.” Tal said, kneeling again before the High Prophet.

“Thank you, Champion. You may return to your seat.” The Prophet’s eyes landed squarely upon the Admiral. “Your advisors failed you and in turn, you have failed me. But I am merciful, I understand your predicament.”

The Admiral said nothing, only staring off into the distance.

The High Prophet did not seem to care. “First, let me be the one to inform you as to what has happened. A false god has appeared, and it is on that island.”

A simple blink was the only response.

“Because of this folly, you are allowing it time to establish itself. But no matter…” He waved his hand and one of the apostles stood, revealing an intricate wooden box. “Tell me, Admiral, how long will it take your fleet to sail to the island?”

Admiral Antony remained silent until suddenly he let out a pained grunt. “T-two…months,” he gasped out.

“Well, let us hope that is long enough.” The High Prophet spoke next to the apostle, “Give it to him, and make sure it is set for two months.”

“As you wish, Your Holiness…” The apostle calmly strode over to the Admiral, and presented the wooden box to him.

Antony made no attempt to take it.

“Force it upon him then,” The Prophet ordered.

Setting the box down on the table, the apostle opened it and revealed a silver headband. A single large crystal was set within it. Picking it up, they slid it onto the Admiral’s head, even as he struggled.

There was another gasp before the room fell silent. The apostle continued with his order and filled the crystal with holy energy.

“I have finished, Your Holiness.”

“Thank you,” The High Prophet once more turned his attention to the Admiral, who was back to staring into the abyss. “That artifact shall be your atonement. You have two months, afterwards its crystal will rupture and combust. It will leave nothing behind.”

Standing, the Prophet began to call the meeting adjourned but the Admiral finally spoke.

“Bastard.”

“Come now, Fleet Admiral. There is no need for such language. Besides, you should be thanking me. I could have used the collars instead. Now, I must go. Good luck to the both of you.”

With that, the High Prophet vanished…

“Are you ready?” Felix called out. He had finished tying his strip of cloth to Zira’s tail and was now peering over to Eri.

“Done,” she answered with a smile. “Are you ready to lose?”

“Hah! You’re funny.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Care to make a bet then?”

“What? Loser has to do whatever the winner says?” he asked mockingly.

“Something like that… Sure, why not?”

Felix gave her a mischievous grin. “Careful, there’s a lot of embarrassing things I could have you do.”

“Oh please, I could do much worse than anything you could come up with.” Eri put a hand up to her chin in thought. “Maybe I could have you wear a dress…”

The thought sent a shiver down his spine but it was too late to back out now. “Well, I could make you go streaking through the clearing!”

Her smug appearance faltered for a moment. However, it was quickly replaced with a coy smile. “By the Gods! Oh those strong, young men watching me… It makes me flustered just thinking about it!” She began fanning with her hand.

An eye twitched at her response. “Okay… Maybe not that, but–”

Felix, are you just going to keep wasting time or are we going to fly? Zira said, butting into his thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I accept. I’ll just have to think of something later, after I win.”

“Don’t bother, it would be a waste anyway. But I accept as well,” Eri responded.

The two of them narrowed their eyes and stared at each other. However, neither one could maintain it for long and soon, both cracked up with laughter.

“Okay,” Felix said after taking a deep breath. “Let’s keep the rules simple, shall we? No using magic to hurt one another, and no pushing someone off. Everything else is fine. Fair?”

“Fair. But don’t get upset when I win. I will not tolerate you claiming I cheated in some way.”

He scoffed. “You won't hear any complaints from me, because I’ll be the one winning.”

“Are we going to start soon?” Kyrith asked, fidgeting. “I want to play…”

Zira let out a rumbling purr in agreement.

“Alright, alright… Let’s do this.” Felix made his way over to Zira’s side and quickly hopped on. Meanwhile, Eri did the same.

Before long, the two dragons were set up and ready to fly.

Felix made some slight adjustments, preparing himself for what would be a fast ascent. Already, he had made improvements to anchoring himself to Zira. Where in the past he would have used his mana to keep his entire body attached, now he was barely using any.

While it might have seemed risky, it was, in fact, much safer. The smaller points he used as anchors meant it was easier to move them around, plus it made him less rigid. The benefits there were he could quickly adjust and not feel the impact nearly as much if Zira collided with something hard. Like the ground… Or another dragon.

Are we going to combine our minds? Zira asked.

Let’s not, at least not at first. I’m still trying to get the hang of this…

She let out a snort. Hopefully, Haldria will have the saddle ready soon.

Hopefully…

“Ready?” Eri shouted.

“Ready!” He replied.

Hold on tight…

Both Kyrith and Zira unfurled their wings, they were just far enough apart to not touch. Still, the spacing made everyone in the vicinity quickly move out of the way.

And they had plenty of onlookers. This would be today’s spectacle.

The two dragons set off at a trot, slowly picking up speed and beating their wings. Before long, both were racing down the strip of ground that they used as their runway.

With a mighty beat of each of their wings, Kyrith and Zira were in the air and climbing fast.

With the sky before him, the ground below him, and the rush of wind through his hair. Felix let out a woop. Nothing beats this feeling!

Zira agreed, letting out a powerful roar that sent birds scattering from the trees below.

Indeed, but now? Let’s win.