Unshackled

<<So, how fast can you two fly?>>

In another one of those eerie moments that was happening far too often, Me and Matron Etyl shared a mirrored expression of incredulity. <<How fast?">> I echoed. Eliciting a boyish nod from the half-breed.

<<Yes. 340 Faster than sound I hope? About meters per second.>>

<<Why would I waste the energy to fly that fast?>> Matron Etyl asked with an air of exhaustion.

<<It's fun.>> Amun shrugged. <<But if you can't it's fine, I'll give a lift.>>

<<Why not just teleport there?>> I wondered.

<<Again, that's no fun.>> He waved the matter off with one hand and conjured his strange magic with the other, lifting the ground we were standing or sleeping on from the dead world to accelerate us to ludicrous speeds in seconds, all while keeping our feet planted to this patch of ground while our faces pointed down to the Mortal Plane. A dizzying orientation to say the least.

<<What is this magic?>>

<<Gravity. >> Amun distantly replied.

<<To the Hells with that.>> Matron Etyl sneered as she gazed at the sleeping humans. <<Tell me what you did to them.>>

"Loup-Garou," Amun explained without doing so at all. His switching to the Common tongue only seemed to exacerbate our confusion. "Skoll and Hati were initially normal dire wolves. I turned them and about twenty other creatures into beasts of shadow by trapping them in my umbral storage dimension until they changed; just like Grandpa Azrael. When I awakened my divinity, those creatures became divine. But Skoll and Hati tried their best to deny the boons of divinity. So instead, they became celestials.

"Because of their initial ties to death and darkness, their souls split from their bodies after death and went on to possess these two." Amun jerked his chin at the siblings. "Alone, that would have made them quite feral. The beastly humanoid husks you saw would have been Skoll and Hati's new bodies, hardly able to talk and terrifying to any mortal to see them. So, I cursed them and their descendants until the end of time.

"Now, neither the siblings nor the wolves remain. They have fused into a shapeshifter with very specific weaknesses. Somewhat like vampires, they can pass their curse to another through virtue of a bite. They will become lesser versions of their progenitors, but they are not thralls, nor are they undead. They are Loup-Garou: Werewolves."

"That seems more like a blessing to me." I mused, looking over the siblings with newfound interest. Indeed, there were already a few changes. The boy was more tanned while the girl had pale skin. His flowing black hair had gold highlights, as did her hair have streaks of blue. Thawed and thick ice was spread beneath their bodies. But only the boy seemed to have fangs protruding from his slacked jaw. Then I caught sight of the rotund one, Blude.

She was staring at Amun as if they were talking, but his eyes remained poised forward while her expression changed from curious trepidation to relief, then to wonder as she looked back on the black shapes breaking the northern shores.

"Is it wise to open your ranks to those you have slighted?" I found myself laughing as the human settlements sprawled beneath us. But Amun answered without pause.

"The denizens of Shujen hated the monarchy. High tributes, constant war, and a low quality of life will do that to a society. As they say, anarchy is only three missed meals away from any civilization.

"More so, Zaraxus won't demand anything from them; nor will he govern them. He will, however, prey upon any corruption that spreads through the city, and he'll make certain no one attacks them. In turn, their trust in me will slowly increase as their fear of the undead diminishes and their quality of life improves.

"By the end of the year, that will yield ten times as many allies and recruits for my Legions than what we've seen today. Not to mention," he added with a raised finger, "the novice monks and those who use this place as a testing field will now have greater foes to fight during their Walks. The humans, goblins, and orcs of Shujen are weak, after all."

There was far too much logic behind that reasoning to be a coincidence. From the start, Amun only killed the guards and soldiers that attacked him. The civilians were left unharmed, if ungoverned or unprotected. And then there was his story of hearing whispers from these humans. Of increasing his standing in the eyes of the common peasant.

But… if that was his entire reason for coming here- for becoming a monk… I knew not what to think of that.

<<Legions? >> Matron Etyl pointed out. <<You keep referring to that.>>

<<My guild. The military to my industrious empire. My beloved explorers. Legio Noctis. Legions are plural. There eleven of them.>> Amun airily smiled.

Matron Etyl laughed heartily while my mind turned. <<To have a guild, you must divine tree.>>

<<Oh? >> Amun snickered back, his finger raised to point out the blue rock floating high above. <<It's a good thing I have one then. That aside.>> He paused, lowering his finger and his gaze to me. <<What do you think of the other monks? Peter, Rua, and Veil Shadows.>>

<<Exceptional. >> I said with all honesty. <<Few humans have the fear of death removed from their hearts. Even fewer can stand against drow. Those who in domain drow without are rare, even among them.>>

<<Yes. >> Amun nodded. <<And, how many drow do you think could stand against Zaraxus without fear, even before his promotions? Or Lana, the barbarian shadow? Do they could?>>

The pieces fell together for both of us at the same time. But our reactions could not have been more different. My eyes grew wide. Hers compressed into slits. <<How many others?>> She hissed.

<<All but eight students of class 999.>> Amun grinned smugly. <<Forty-seven officers who spent half of last year under my tutelage. Plus whatever subordinates they now have.< p>

<<Coincidentally. >> He sighed, wiping the smugness away in a long breath. <<That very reason is why I must put my training on pause. need to find the other half of party, you see. Not mention, move further down paths.>>

<<Your party?>> I recoiled.

In turn, he gestured to the four children behind him, the two sleeping brutes, and, strangely, to me and him. <<This is about half.>>

<<Half? >> I laughed in disbelief. <<How many more do you need?>>

<<A bard, a druid, an alchemist, and fighter. We've already got future rogues, cleric, now, barbarian plus ranger. Aside from that, we only need witch maybe paladin. But that can come later.>>

<<A witch?>> Etyl tilted her head, but I was certain Amun's gesture did not slip past her. On the contrary, I was sure this was meant to cover up that fact. Or, knowing her, to point it out.<<Why do you need a witch? You are able to heal, no?>>

<<Not unconditionally.>> He smirked.

<<Surely you can wait.>> I began. <<With your progress, you can finish training by mid-year.>>

<<That is my deadline to form this party.>> He said, unrelenting. <<But worry not, I estimate it will take no longer than a month. Though, I'm sure significantly less.>>

<<Object all I may, it is not my choice to make.>> I sighed. <<I cannot keep you.>>

<<All the more reason to pick up pace then.>>

To little surprise, our beloved cousins were eagerly waiting at the entrance with Amun's apparent subordinates. Their faces sat torn between every conceivable emotion as they flicked their eyes between our comparatively large group, unlike the object of my anxiety.

Abbot Eiriol was poised as regally as ever before the entrance, smiling with only the faintest traces of emotion as we landed with a respectful bow.

"I dare say, this Walk has been the most fruitful I have witnessed in generations." She began, paying no heed to Matron Etyl dragging her priestesses into the Halls to scheme.

"Having arrived just before the tenth step, you can now call yourselves full-fledged monks." She declared with a wave, prompting the slaves to rush out and distribute their red sashes. "However, your journey to becoming a master is hardly over. And we will waste no time beginning."

The sharp infliction of her words prompted the remaining monks to clap their hands together and bow. And wordlessly, Abbot Eiriol motioned the other groups inside.

<<I understand you intend to request a sabbatical.>> The crafty Abbot snickered.

<<I have other classes I must tend to and companions gather.>> He bowed again, a strange sight, considering what I now knew. <<I can guarantee it will take no longer than one month.>>

<<No matter what you say, I cannot keep here, Amun.>> The Abbot said… gently? <<On the contrary, this is a prime opportunity.>>

A long breath- no shuffling of snow or the ruffling of leather, no clatter of weapons or sloshing water- a long breath was all that composed the long seconds of her stepping into the hut and returning with a fine, silken bag that was thrown to me. Yet her eyes remained steeled on Amun.

<<You may not appreciate hearing this, Elg-Horr. Etan of House Za'Darmondiel, my dear great-grandson, was born for you. He has studied all things since the day he born. Only so that teach Elg-Horr, come promised time.>> She stepped closer, hugging her hands closer to her belly while they shifted madly.

'I know not what the Matrons know of you, Elg-Horr, or of what they have planned for either of you upon your return. However, I now know you would rather let the realms burn than allow tragedy to befall those close to you. I ask that you allow Etan to be one of those people.

'And, Etan.' She turned a glistening pair of violet eyes my way. Eyes that reflected a similar hue as I stared into them. 'I have sinned in indoctrinating you just as I have Matron Etyl. For that, I apologize and seek- foolishly so- to redeem myself by asking you this: Continue to teach Elg-Horr for the rest of your combined days, but only if you wish to. What you must do is leave this place with him. Return to do your business after your sabbatical. And never return.

'This is what I have always wished for you.'