When Flynn awoke again, the first light of dawn had already crept deep enough into his nook that spear-like slivers of golden-yellow light kissed his cheek. The youth groaned; an arm raised over his eyes as he grumbled sluggishly. He turned away from the nuisance in a futile attempt to claw his way back to sleep, but the damage had been done, and he felt wakefulness sweep across his mind in a tide.

  Wearily, the youth dragged himself up to a seated position and cursed who ever had left his curtains open.

  Probably his aunt. She always forgetting to close things, be it the door or the window or the curtains. He’d probably have to check if she’d left the back door open again. It wou - his eyes fluttered around the mushroom-flesh around him, and then he remembered.

  Right.

  He wasn’t home. His aunt was nowhere near him.

  The insanity of the previous day grazed the surface of his mind, and though he’d through lived it all, he still found it hard to believe. Flynn stared through the gaps in his barricade for several long seconds, eyeing the alien world beyond, his fists tightened with unpleasant emotion. That’d all really happened, huh.

  Magic. The exam. Eustace.

  His family. Flynn loosed a long, calming breath. Don’t think about that, he told himself. Warned himself.

  Nothing good came from pointlessly working himself up. He likely had a long day ahead of him. Better to reserve his energy for that.

  Cheek tapped his cheek a moment later, and he smiled softly at the sight of the little construct. “Anythin’ interesting happen while I was out, buddy?”

  It shook itself. Nodding, he shifted and stretched the fluttery tingles from his limbs before he winced. His back hurt. No big surprise there though. His modern-day sensibilities weren’t used to a night on the cold, hard ground, and if it hadn’t been for his tiredness he’d likely have twisted and turned in discomfort all night long.

  No matter. He’d adapt soon enough, he knew, and he’d gotten a restful enough sleep besides. Rising to his feet, Flynn made to eat some rations when a rumble in his gut alerted him to a different primal need. Eyes widening, he quickly scrambled for a good spot before he remembered something. Diving into his backpack, he pulled out the pillow he’d gotten from one of the Lucky Gifts. It was a small thing, hardly twice as large as his palm. Ripping the cover to shreds, he tore the cloth into a strip of improvised toilet paper before he beckoned Cheek to follow.

  The little bow seemed hesitant but did as bid. Finding a quaint, veiled little spot a short distance away from his nook, Flynn set Cheek to overwatch again before he buckled down and conducted his business transaction. He did not look at Cheek as he did so, and neither did Cheek look at him. The experience was... very uncomfortable, and fortunately for the both of them, equally as short.

  It was quietly decided that neither would mention this moment again, nor any such moment that came in the days to follow.

  After trekking back and filling up on rations, Flynn tucked Cheek away again and found his way to where his impromptu allies were grouped. Standing a short distance away, he could hear faint conversation emanating from within the hideaway. Sounded like they were energetically discussing the various methods of efficiently gathering food. Striding inside; he found them awake and huddled around an assortment of berries and plants, which explained their discussion. A bag filled with the rations that the tribe had gifted them on their leaving laid open.

  Their eyes glowed as soon as they noted his approach.

  “Ah, great Flynn! Good morn to you! Would you like to break your fast on some of our local foods? They were gathered fresh just a few minutes ago by Alsias.”

  Alsias? The spearsman perked up at the mention of what he presumed must’ve been it – his name.

  “Oh, no. I’ve already eaten but thank you. You guys eat your fill though. I’m happy to wait.”

  More than one of their faces sported a sad frown at his polite refusal that made Flynn feel like he’d just kicked a puppy. Damn them. Why’d they have to be so small and look so strangely adorable? Like plushies. Alsias looked the most put out of them all, though he said nothing.

  Still, they nodded and started on their meal. He would admit that it looked pretty good, despite his love and preference for the fast-food industry’s processed garbage, though a part of him whispered that looks didn’t equal safe eating. He had no idea if his body could tolerate the foods of this place, though he figured that the time would eventually come where he’d have to test that out.

  But that time was not today.

  As they ate, Flynn decided to finally ask their names and better acquaint himself with them. Starting with the lead elder, they introduced themselves as Illsien, Ohstius, Mielvieu and Lenny. That last one, that’d knocked him speechless for a bit, though he’d made no mention of it after.

  Illsien was the eldest of their number and had served as a first-amongst-equals whilst they lead the tribe. He’d also been a formidable warrior in his youth by his own accounting and as such had been responsible for training and organizing the tribe’s troops. Ohstius was the complete opposite. Quiet where Illsien was loud, and meek where he was bold. However, the others proclaimed that there was no hand better at managing the tribe’s administrative functions. His loss, they said, would perhaps be the most keenly felt by the new leadership.

  Mielvieu had been the curious one he’d made a note of in the arena, and unsurprisingly, the one that was most eager with his questions. He reminded Flynn of a certain tiny and furred MOBA character with a love of gizmos and little turrets. And just like him Mielvieu loved learning new things. And rather appropriately, he’d been responsible for keeping track of the tribe’s library and disseminating its knowledge.

  Lenny, in comparison to the last three, was outspoken in a different kind of way. He had the air of a talker, and sure enough, the man truly did love to preach. Which fit, because he’d once been the tribe’s head priest, and it was through him that Flynn learnt much about their strange faith.

  Much and more, in fact.

  Lenny had a lot to say about Siestemi. Maybe more than he'd wanted to hear. The little being seemed to take every opportunity he could to fill his ears with religious shpiel, and his oratory skills were nothing to sneeze at either. Unfortunately, his subtlety wasn’t quite as well developed, and it took a minute of conversation before Flynn figured out that he was victim to a conversion attempt.

  With that realization painting his thoughts, he just smiled his way through the rest of the conversation. He’d not been a religious man before, and unless God had become just as real as magic, that wasn’t likely to change.

  Especially not for a faith of slavers and the enslaved.

  Breakfast lasted twenty minutes before they were ready to go. It was only then that Flynn finally consulted his map. It was a sparse thing, only covering the fungal forest and its immediate surroundings. It made no mention of anything to do with The Mouth, and nothing within spoke to him as an obvious point of interest. He supposed that all he needed to do was keep on moving north. He was bound to stumble into The Mouth sometime.

  Then again, he could also ask his new friends if they knew the way. Alsias especially. He hadn’t trusted them enough to let them know where he was going, but if he had to weigh the risk of letting them know against the reward of a faster path towards the exam’s end.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Flynn debated it before he finally turned towards the spearsman.

  “Alsias.” The alf glanced up, eyes wide with surprise. “Have you heard of a place called The Mouth?”

  “The Mouth? Yes, master. I know of it.” the man answered speedily.

  “Near everyone in the realm knows of it, great Flynn.” remarked Illsien. Flynn turned to the elder. “It is a dangerous place to the north, beyond the coloured lands.”

  “Do any of you know the way there?”

  “Yes. It is a simple enough path. All one needs to do is go due north and they shall eventually arrive there.”

  “If they don’t die to the coloured ones first.” added Ohstius nervously.

  “Well, that sucks, ‘cuz that’s where we’ll be going.”

  Silence. All the alves stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Ohstius’s mouth hung open, closed, and then hung open again. Even Illsien looked aghast. “A-Are you sure you wish to go there, great Flynn? It is... an exceedingly dangerous place. A horde of coloured ones block the way, and no force of alves has managed to break through in all our centuries of conflict.”

  “Great. That’ll just mean that I’ll be the first to do it.” he said, hopefully sounding more confident than he felt. Truth was, the idea of wading through another sea of enemies appealed to the insane part of him that revelled in the challenge, but his saner self knew that the risks involved were nothing to sneeze at.

  The exam wouldn’t let it be so simple.

  “Of course, if you guys don’t want to follow me there then I’ll be more than happy to order you to go somewhere else. Wherever you want. I’ll even grant you your freedom, though only if you want it, of course.”

  Illsien faced with a look of renewed daring, his back straight and his mien one of a being half his age. “No such thing will be necessary, great Flynn. Where you go, so shall we, as we must. Will we not?”

  “Yes!” declared Alasias and Mielvieu immediately. Lenny was a twinge slower on the uptake, whilst Ohstius sounded very reluctant to agree, but he eventually did. Flynn figured as much, though he’d still tried. Looks like he wasn’t about to be rid himself of their lot anytime soon.

  And maybe, a small part of him had started to feel that their presence may not be so terrible a thing.

  ◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

  The group made good time through the forest with Alsias leading the way and Flynn providing direction via the map. The spearman said that the entire forest took two days to cross on foot for most folk, but a trained warrior could do it in one. Flynn figured that he could’ve done it even faster, but he wouldn’t be setting any records with his current company in tow.

  So, he had to make do with the pace as it was.

  Hours passed without much incident, though Flynn appreciated the sights and sounds that the forest had to offer. It truly was a completely alien landscape, and rife with all manner of untoward creatures and critters. He’d seen what looked like a massive caterpillar flying beneath the canopy upon twenty pairs of wings, and a lion-like thing that could somehow jump into the flesh of a mushroom as if it were intangible.

  And there’d been more.

  A lot more.

  It was the kind of scenery that he was sure his DnD group would’ve loved to escape. Tim especially. The man was always coming up with strange and peculiar destinations to throw them into. He’d have absolutely lost himself in the forest.

  Flynn smiled, before the thought of them brought on sadder, murkier feelings that he was forced to swallow back. Refocusing himself into the environment, Flynn saw one of his Illusionary Selves peep through the underbrush to give him an okay signal before fading away.

  So that direction was still clear. Good. No untoward surprises there. Maybe his luck would hold, and they’d be able to walk the whole span of the forest without being attacked. Flynn froze right then, eyes wide as he glanced around. It was still quiet. Still safe.

  But he had a gnawing feeling that he’d just jinx’d himself. Surely not, right? He was just being superstitious, he was sure.

  The youth sucked in a steadying breath and made to continue when a cry cut through the air. Flynn’s gaze snapped to the distance, his bow at the ready. The others flinched, surprised.

  “Great Flynn? What is it?”

  They hadn’t heard it? Must’ve been his higher perception at work, because he’d heard the voice clearly. It’d been an alf, and it’d been screaming for help.

  “I heard it.” said Alsias, surprising Flynn. The spearman met his eyes first and foremost. It looked like the warrior had a keen sense of hearing too. “It was faint. Distant but it sounded like an alven scream.” he said to a grim nod from Flynn.

  “It could not be one of our former tribe. No, this far from our lands, it must be... the Ozana?” stated Mielvieu, nervous and unsure. Illsien nodded.

  “Another tribe?” asked Flynn. “Bad guys or good?”

  Please be bad. Please be bad. Please be bad.

  “Good, great Flynn. We trade with them often, and they have rendered great aid to us in the past.” The alf said no more, but the undercurrent of its plea was obvious enough. Help them, please. Flynn sighed. Fucking. Bleeding. Heart.

  “Stay here!” he commanded before he burst into the distance at speed. Cheek fluttered out on his command, and a mana arrow manifested upon his bow. Covering the distance didn’t take long, and his Monster Sense gave him a good idea of the situation before he’d arrived. In minutes, he came to a stop before a clearing, his figure shrouded by a man-sized shroom.

  Beyond, he spied nearly a dozen alves locked in combat against just as many beasts. Their appearance was greatly varied with some of the creatures' resembling mammals and the others resembling birds or insects or reptiles. None of them looked like anything that should’ve been mingling with the other, and yet they were, each one working together to assault the trapped alf warriors with perfect coordination.

  And he quickly deduced why. All of them shared a colony of mushrooms sprouting at odd points from their bodies. It was obviously the reason for their cross-species cooperation, though he couldn’t figure out the why of their attack. Not that it mattered.

  It was apparent that the monsters were winning. Three dead alves already littered the ground, and the survivors looked harried and exhausted. They didn’t have long before they broke, and Flynn didn’t have the time to dally. He loosed his arrow with perfect accuracy, catching one of the critters on the side of its head just before it clamped its jaw over an alf’s throat. It died instantly.

  Cheek’s shot was just as quick, putting down an insectoid monstrosity. The duo both reloaded and shot within the span of a heartbeat, and two more corpses decorated the clearing floor. That was when the monsters finally turned in their direction.

  It was too little too late by then. Two more had died by the time the creatures attempted to charge his way, and with half their numbers decimated already, the beasts seemed to understand that fighting him was a lost battle.

  The remaining monsters attempted to retreat, and he put down three more before they disappeared into the surrounding underbrush. Flynn grinned, somewhat grateful for the workout. It helped him ease some of the tension in his body. Rising from his hiding place, he strode into the clearing at a calm and measured pace.

  A tingle travelled through his spine, tearing his gaze towards the alves. He blinked. What the hell was that? He’d felt it back during the fight with Alsias too. He frowned but quickly found his attention stolen away by the tell-tale glow of loot from one of the corpses. Ah fresh loot. How he’d missed it so.

  The company of alves flinched as soon as they saw his figure, and more than one spear and bow were levelled his way. Cheek didn’t like that one bit, but he calmed the construct down before it created a diplomatic incident.

  “Relax. I’m not a coloured one.” he said as he walked towards the loot, trying to look as unthreatening as he could. “My name is Flynn. I mean no harm. I was in the company of alves from the Aziethi tribe when I heard the battle and decided to kick some ass. I’m guessing that you don’t mind, right?”

  Flynn bent low even as he spoke, half his attention on them and the other half on the box in front of him. Prying it open, inside he found... a cat’s meow that resounded across the clearing. Flynn cursed silently. Just his luck.

  Swallowing back his annoyance, he rose and reoriented himself towards the beings.

  The alves looked at him with hesitancy, confusion and fear in equal measure. It was a long minute before one amongst their number finally managed to find the calm to respond. The warrior was the most lavishly dressed of the group, and the one with the most markings. He bore himself with the face of a fighter as he approached until he was stood scarcely ten feet away.

  Blue eyes stared into dark orbs, and for a moment nothing happened. Then the alf slammed his spear into the ground. Flynn felt his blood turn cold at the sight. No. He knew that gesture. No please no.

  “I am defeated!” it declared, loud and booming, before it knelt to him. Flynn swore. Every other alf before him knelt the same, their eyes low and their weapons on the ground.

  “I am defeated!” resounded across the clearing, each voice a blade into his heart.

  “The defeated must serve! Tell us your name, oh victorious one!”

  Flynn grimaced. Fuck me.

  You have earned a trait

  Slavedriver

  Action Trait - Middling

  Requirement: Own at least six beings bound to your will.

  Increased innate coordination with your slave allies. Reduced innate coordination with your non-slave allies.

  Trait Spell: Know Slave

  Know Slave

  Trait Spell - Rank 1

  ?

  You better understand the slaves under your command.

  “Motherfu-”