Chapter 62: Time to hurry

  The carriage rolled steadily along the smooth stone road. Outside, irrigation channels caught the fading sunlight, and low watchtowers dotted the distant hills. The capital’s walls rose faintly on the horizon, still just under a week away. Inside, the board had been set again. Slade and Aoife sat across from one another, ready to play, while Lance leaned back against the cushioned wall. His eyes followed the pieces, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

  The System had been quiet for days. Its first awakening had been thunderous and deadly, an emotional declaration of wanting to save its bonded companion in a time of peril. Since then it had slept. Lance could feel it faintly beneath his thoughts, a slow heartbeat at the edge of awareness. He wondered when it would stir again. Would it respond to the approach of the capital, or would it wait longer, biding its time?

  He closed his eyes briefly, leaning back, and ventured into the soul space that the System had revealed to him. The darkness there was soft, like velvet, yet edged with motion. He could sense the shapes of possibilities drifting like clouds. He nudged gently, whispering inwardly, trying to prod it awake.

  A tail flicked.

  It was faint at first, just a movement in the periphery of his consciousness. Then it beat once more, slow, deliberate, almost lazy. Lance smiled faintly, a mixture of frustration and amusement. Not yet. Not now. Lazy Bastard. I guess this gives me more time for a name for you.

  He opened his eyes. The game had begun.

  Slade moved first, shoving a Warden forward. “Take that. The center is mine.”

  Aoife lifted an eyebrow and slid her Warden forward to meet his. “You cannot move without support. You will lose pieces if you are careless.”

  “I am not careless. I am bold,” Slade said, leaning over the board. “You will see.”

  Perrin leaned back, smirking. “Bold and reckless often look the same to me.”

  Aoife’s Arcanist moved smoothly along a diagonal, capturing one of Slade’s advanced Wardens. The board pulsed faintly beneath it. Slade froze.

  “What? That is cheating! Absolutely cheating!”

  “You left it undefended,” Aoife said calmly. “I merely took the opportunity.”

  Perrin made a mock bow. “Exploiting weaknesses. Truly heroic.”

  Lance let his eyes drift back to the edge of his mind, to the soul space. He nudged again, more insistently, feeling the pulse of the System brush against him. The tail flicked lazily in response, playful yet indifferent. He tried to focus, to coax it into clarity. He could feel the threads of his own perception stretching, waiting for it to stir. The movement of pieces across the board, the pattern of the game, even Slade’s yelling, all of it seemed to reach toward the edges of the System’s awareness. Yet it remained quiet.

  Slade, undeterred, shoved two Wardens forward recklessly. “Yes! Attack from both sides!”

  “You are leaving yourself open,” Aoife said evenly. Her Cavalier leapt gracefully into position, cutting off the advanced Wardens and threatening his Bastion. The board pulsed again, faint light tracing the carved sigils beneath her pieces.

  Check.

  Slade’s face turned bright red. “WHAT? How is that even possible?”

  “It is possible because you overextended,” Aoife said lightly.

  Perrin leaned forward slightly, picking up a fallen Warden. “Ah yes, overconfidence meets precision. A tale as old as time.”

  Lance closed his eyes again, venturing once more into the soul space. The threads of mana and probability were clearer here. He tried to reach out, gently nudging, guiding, whispering, coaxing the System to wake.

  The tail flicked again. A soft, lazy motion. Almost like it was amused by his impatience.

  He opened his eyes. Aoife moved her Arcanist along the long diagonal, locking Slade’s pieces into a position where the Sovereign could not escape.

  Checkmate.

  Slade slammed the board onto the floor. Pieces scattered in all directions, clattering against the velvet and lacquer. “No! This is not fair! I demand a rematch!”

  Aoife leaned back, folding her arms. “You were warned about moving without thinking. Your aggression was punished.”

  Perrin picked up a Bastion with mock solemnity. “Yes, clearly skill is superior to tantrums. Truly inspirational.”

  Lance leaned back, studying the scene. Slade muttered over the scattered pieces, Aoife methodically replaced her own with calm precision, and Perrin continued commenting dryly.

  He exhaled softly and returned his attention inward. The soul space was still there, patient, waiting. He nudged again. The tail flicked once, then twice, a teasing rhythm. Still asleep, still distant, but alive. He could feel it just beyond his reach, a heartbeat in the dark, a presence brushing against his awareness.

  He shifted slightly in the carriage. Outside, the sun dipped lower, the road widening, the capital closer with each turn. Lance let his mind trace the horizon, the approach of walls and towers, the faintly glowing runes. The System had not woken, yet he felt its potential, a latent power ready to surge when the right moment came.

  For now, though, there was only this. The sound of pieces clattering. Slade muttering in frustration. Aoife sitting composed, satisfied with her victory. Perrin’s sarcastic commentary weaving through it all. And the soft pulse of the System, teasing him, alive beneath the quiet, flicking its tail in deliberate indifference.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Lance exhaled slowly. He let his hands rest on his knees. The game was over. The pieces were gone. But the patterns, the anticipation, and the quiet knowledge of what might awaken remained.

  Soon, he knew, the his bond would stir. When it did, a new friend would come into his life, ready to dominate his enemies and protect his people, just like Lance would.

  And for the first time since leaving the north, Lance allowed himself to feel anticipation again, watching the capital rise ahead, knowing that the calm before awakening was almost as precious as the power itself.

  _________________________________

  Inside the cabin, Ellowen stood carefully pouring hot tea into a quaint cup, the steam curling lazily into the air. His little sprites stirred in his beard and fluttered around his head, their tiny wings catching the light as they zipped about in restless circles.

  Perrin leaned against the wall, half amused, half exasperated. “Ellowen, tell your dust mites to keep quiet, please.”

  “They are part of the charm,” Ellowen said, his voice gentle, though the faint glint in his eyes betrayed his attention elsewhere.

  The sprites responded to a subtle command, settling down momentarily. Ellowen’s hand lingered on the cup, but a faint vibration beneath his cloak caught his senses. He paused, head tilting slightly.

  Perrin noticed immediately.

  Ellowen’s fingers slipped into the folds of his cloak and drew out a small orb that pulsed softly with inner light. He held it up for a brief moment, and a translucent image flickered within the sphere. High Guardian Rynel’s message appeared, words sharp and deliberate.

  Perrin stepped closer. “Well? What is it?”

  A cackling voice came from the stone, low and controlled. Rynel spoke. “The package I was sent to escort to the academy, the legendary class holder… dead. The village was wiped out. No survivors. Nothing left for us to investigate. Whoever did this left no trace behind that we can find. Will request for a investigation team when I return.”

  Perrin’s usual grin faltered. “That is… not subtle. That is terrifyingly efficient.”

  Ellowen nodded. “The message itself makes it clear. There is now a target on legendary class holders. Whoever is responsible will strike again if given the chance. We cannot allow ourselves to be caught unprepared.”

  Perrin said to him in a low voice, “It sounded like Rynel hasn't arrived yet, so the class holder was defenceless, I highly doubt they would go after us two unless they are truly prepared to handle two Tier Sevens.”

  Outside the window, the carriage driver adjusted the reins, unaware of the shift in urgency within. Ellowen leaned close to the glass and gestured silently. The horses slowed. The guards shifted their positions, instinctively alert.

  “Do not announce this to the children,” Ellowen said, his voice soft but firm. “Especially Lance. He must not suspect the danger. The others may sense tension if we are not careful.”

  Perrin nodded, expression now serious. “Of course. He will notice nothing unless we show him. That boy is quite perceptive though. We must be subtle.”

  Ellowen replaced the orb in his cloak, hiding its faint glow. He motioned to Perrin, who came closer. “The carriage will be reinforced without raising an alarm. Inform the escort team, I will summon a few of my friends to scout the surroundings and be our first line of defense, they will be far away so nobody will notice anything.”

  Perrin moved swiftly, checking each part of the carriage. He whispered instructions to the guards, who adjusted their stances and subtly repositioned equipment. Windows were warded, the horses’ harnesses shifted for greater control, and small compartments containing defensive tools were made accessible. All looked ordinary to the casual observer. A habit Perrin had picked up when creating his trinkets.

  Ellowen watched, eyes flicking to Lance, who sat quietly with his tea. The boy’s thoughts were elsewhere, drifting perhaps toward the familiar rhythm of a game or the warmth of the tea in his hands. Ellowen allowed himself a faint smile. For now, the child remained oblivious.

  “Full speed once we depart,” Ellowen said softly to the driver through the window. “No stops, no detours, until we are well within the capital walls. Delay will be dangerous.”

  “Yes, Master Ellowen,” the driver replied, voice steady, though the tone carried weight.

  Aoife sat poised and silent, hands resting lightly on her lap, eyes flicking to the faint adjustments made around her. Slade fidgeted beside her, glancing from Ellowen to Perrin, his curiosity veiled by feigned casualness.

  “What is it?” he finally whispered.

  “Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Ellowen said, a gentle but unyielding note in his voice. “Continue as if the road and your companions are ordinary. Focus on your duties and nothing else.”

  Entertain yourselves with this little challenge, Ellowen raised his palm upward and summoned a creature they have never seen before. A small, black misted four legged creature with no visible eyes appeared within their carriage.

  Curiosity made the children immediately identify the creature.

  As they all identified it, the creature immediately vanished, puffing into a waft of smoke only to reappear on the top bunk, almost teasing them.

  Ellowen spiced it up, “First to capture, or trap the creature gets a reward from me.”

  All the kids instantly forgot about any suspicions of something going on as soon as a reward was on the table, all fleeing over to the bunks attempting to capture the creature.

  Ellowen watched quietly as the children lunged and waved their hands, trying to sense the Void Popper’s presence with small pulses of mana. The creature blinked in and out of view, puffing smoke as if laughing, darting just beyond reach each time.

  “He is fast,” Aoife muttered, her focus narrowing, “but he gives hints if you pay attention.”

  “Keep your hands steady,” Lance whispered from the corner, “don’t reach too wildly.”

  Slade nearly toppled from the bunk ladder. “I almost had him!”

  Perrin leaned close to Ellowen, voice low. “We avoid villages entirely, or just the main roads?”

  Ellowen’s eyes traced the horizon beyond the carriage window. “Avoid anything that risks attention. Even small settlements can draw eyes. We move swiftly, quietly. Nothing stops us until we reach the capital.”

  A mounted escort rider called back from the front. “Carriage secure. Roads clear, but traffic thickens near the river crossing.”

  Ellowen nodded subtly, lifting a hand toward the guards. “Keep formation tight. Adjust positions to cover flanks. No stopping. We arrive without incident or delay.”

  Perrin muttered, “No ceremonies, no side errands. Just straight through.”

  Ellowen’s gaze softened slightly as a faint pulse of mana brushed his cloak. The Void Popper winked from the ceiling again, teasing the children, oblivious to the gravity of the orders around it. “Exactly,” he said. “Everything else can wait. Focus on the path ahead.”

  The carriage rolled onward, the children still chasing the elusive creature, while outside, every measure was taken to make their passage as quiet and protected as possible.

  Someone is out for blood, and they would be damned to disrupt Ellowen's duty.