A Bond Broken: The Infinite World Book Two

by J. T. Wright

  Trent continued raining down blows until he received a message in his Status.

  Trial, Garden of Clarity, has been cleared. Secondary Attribute, Perception, unlocked. Perception +2. You may collect your reward. Secondary quest, Maven’s Folly, has been completed. You are owed.

  The doppelganger dissolved, leaving behind a puddle of water. There wasn’t any loot dropped, much to Trent’s disappointment, but he put that discontent aside. A chest had appeared on the edge of the fountain’s basin, a chest that would contain his reward. That was enough. He didn’t feel defeating the doppelganger was worth much anyway.

  Trent had tried to tell Maven that her creation didn’t stand a chance. There were many things Trent knew nothing about, but after a month of constant battle, he was very aware of his own issues with those blades.

  Compared to soul-bound knives, the one-handed sword he used was a blunt stick. With a common rank, average quality, and a damage rating of 15, no one would choose this sword over Sorrow and Strife. Unless, you were fighting the Undead. The sword’s only remarkable quality was that it dealt extra damage when fighting those particular monsters.

  How could Trent defeat a version of himself that held an advantage in terms of weapons? Simple. Trent was a Swordsman who had mastered one longsword technique and already acquired a Specialized Technique. With bonuses from his Class and Skill, a common ranked sword was all he needed to fight an opponent of the same Level.

  In comparison, his Basic Small Blades Technique was only at Level 3. Sorrow and Strife were impressive, but they were paired weapons, meant to be used together. Lacking the Dual Wield Skill, Trent had never been able to bring out the soul-bound knives’ full potential. A Swordsman in full command of his abilities versus an uncertain Survivalist? This fight could only end one way. Trent wasn’t even out of breath as his blade returned to its sheath.

  Maven’s jaw dropped. This couldn’t be happening! She rubbed her eyes, certain they were playing tricks on her. She wanted to tell herself that this was an illusion. The light in the Garden had dimmed, giving some credence to this notion, but she knew that Trent affecting her with magic was more improbable than what she had just witnessed. She was a Keeper and Queen, and he was just an Al’rashian boy!

  “No! You cheated! This isn’t possible!” Maven spouted. She couldn’t accept what was clearly evident. The boy should be slaughtered meat, squealing for mercy, laying in a pool of his own blood! She gathered her own magic. If her creation couldn’t kill the Al’rashian…

  “The challenger is owed, Maven! There are rules that cannot be bent, which must not be broken! Do not forget your place!”

  The force the Fairy had gathered dissipated as Maven flinched. Her eyes widened as a cold pit formed in her stomach. That hadn’t been the voice of the Garden. She looked up, finally noticing the storm which had gathered overhead. Maven trembled in fear at the sight of energy flickering amongst the clouds.

  Chapter 14

  Maven shivered. Her teeth clicked as she shut her mouth hurriedly. She knew what those dark clouds represented. She recognized the Voice which reprimanded her. Swallowing nervously, her hands brushed and smoothed the leaves of her dress. Now, was not the time to argue. The Garden could be reasoned with, occasionally. That Voice could only be obeyed.

  Trent also shivered in response to the Voice. There was something undeniable contained in those words. Though they hadn’t been meant for him, Trent still felt the urge to kneel. He didn’t, but it was close. He had only knelt twice in his life. In the presence of Darak Fairdor, the last king of Al’rashia, kneeling had felt natural, and before the Goddess Terah, it had been required.

  Fear locked his knees now. The presence of Darak and Terah was a gentle summer’s wind compared to this Voice. This Voice held the authority of a raging typhoon. If it had addressed him directly, Trent would have cowered and knelt in awe. He expected to see the Fairy Queen blasted to pieces by the Voice’s disfavor.

  He was more than a little surprised when the Fairy, instead of ceasing to be, cast hard eyes his way. They didn’t look like eyes promising a reward, however. Maven’s expression spoke of blame and vengeance. She bared her teeth in a malicious imitation of a smile, her wings bringing her close to Trent’s face. The boy was owed? Yes, he was! Maven intended to give Trent exactly what she thought he deserved. The boy’s circumstances were very apparent to the Keeper. She knew exactly how to reward him.

  “Poor thing. Poor Bond.” Maven’s fluttering brought her circling around Trent’s head. He kept his neck stiff and his gaze forward as she whispered in one ear and then the other. “You are owed. Queen Maven always pays her debts. Always.

  “Poor, poor Bond.” Tiny fingers lightly pinched Trent’s ear. A chill ran down his spine. “Your Bond Mate must be very cruel. A Loyalty Rating of 10? How mistreated you must be. Queen Maven will make it better. What a fitting reward indeed.”

  Trent wanted to stop her. He didn’t need a reward. Defeating the doppelganger had been too easy to be called a challenge. In fact, hadn’t he already received a new Secondary Attribute? That was more than enough.

  There was no time to refuse. Maven had already acted. Her fingers snapped next to Trent’s ear. It was purely a dramatic gesture. Her magic had no need for snaps, weaving fingers, or trigger words. Maven just liked the finality of the clicking noise. It was fitting.

  There was no spell that could accomplish what Maven did. A bond could be neglected and lost, but no outsider could break it. Only old magic, Fairy magic, could sever a Bond. And only a Fairy that had fled the Awakening could still use that old magic. Fairies that had accepted change still lived in the world. They couldn’t have done what Maven had just done. There were perhaps four beings in the world that still used the old magic. Trent had managed to offend one.

  His heart stopped. He sunk to his knees, breathless. A piece of him that had always been present had been torn away, cut out so thoroughly that nothing remained. He didn’t need to check his Status to confirm its loss. He knew that if he did, his Loyalty Rating would be gone. His Bond had been severed.

  Trent’s life had begun short months ago in a Trial. In the beginning, he had only been aware of one thing. He hadn’t even known what it was. That it was a Bond, that was a recent discovery. To Trent, it had been a Summoning Contract. That was what he had been told, and there was no reason to question the people who had said so.

  But it was a Bond. Trent had been Bonded to a callous, ignorant girl. Arrogant and proud, Kirstin had hated the sight of him. It had taken her weeks to recognize his worth. By then, his Loyalty Rating had dropped to 25. During the brief time they were reunited, it had risen 1 point before they were separated again.

  Tersa was Trent’s friend. Someone he argued with and depended on. Orion was his adopted brother. Wise and solid, the Al’rashian pushed Trent and advised him. Sergeant Cullen was… what Cullen was, was unclear. A mentor? A guide? Perhaps more. Trent was in no condition right now to put into words what Cullen meant to him. In a very real way, Kirstin was Trent’s world, and the world had just dropped out from under him.

  Every decision Trent had ever made was made with Kirstin in mind. He had become a Survivalist thinking an Advanced Class would make him more valuable to his master. Orion had suggested he become a Swordsman, but ultimately, Trent chose the Class because Kirstin wanted a warrior to fight beside her. He had struggled to grow, to make himself stronger, because Kirstin was disappointed by his weakness. She had wanted a contracted Beast that could aid her as she adventured, not a boy who had to be taught and trained. Trent had tried to become what she wanted.

  On his first day in the world, his Loyalty Rating had plummeted. Then, Trent had watched it drop point by point. In the last few weeks, the rate at which it fell had slowed. Every couple of days, Trent would wake to a message that his Loyalty had decreased. He dismissed these notifications without worry. Instinctively, Trent knew that even if his Loyalty reached 0, it could still be salvaged. As long as Kirstin wa
s willing, Trent’s Loyalty Rating could be restored.

  That wasn’t an option now. There was a void, a hole, in Trent’s chest where the blonde-haired Adventurer had once resided. He was alone, purposeless, and empty. It was a strange reward.

  Maven watched as Trent’s jaw went slack. His violet eyes dimmed, and hers glowed. Her hands clenched in victory as his body sagged listlessly. This was vengeance. And it was within the rules!

  What good was a failing Bond? She had done the boy a favor, really. Yes, he hurt now, but he was his own person, thanks to her. His Bond Mate was a cruel person, no doubt. Maven had saved Trent from that Bond's mistreatment!

  She laughed, cackled, and opened her mouth to tell the boy he was welcome. Although it was rude that Trent hadn’t already thanked her, a Queen must be gracious after all. Her words would be the salt that flavored her dish and stung the boy’s wounds. It was exactly the kind of fun she had long been denied!

  Blue lightning gathered in the dense storm clouds above. The words on Maven’s tongue suddenly vanished and were replaced with her screams. The lightning struck and hammered Maven to the ground. Her bones snapped, the sound was much louder than that produced by her fingers, as she was introduced to the cobblestones of the Garden. The smell of charred Fairy flesh filled the air.

  Maven thought the Garden's gentle reprimands and reminders were painful? This was true pain. No part of the Fairy Queen went unsinged. Her hair was scorched short, and all her bones were cracked, if not broken. When had Maven ever suffered like this?

  While Trent knelt, unaware of what was happening, Maven screamed again. The Voice had been merciful; she was alive. At that moment, she wished she wasn’t. If Fairy magic had depended on words or gestures, Maven would have screamed out her last, sprawled in a puddle that was all that remained of the creature modeled after Trent.

  However, Fairy magic hardly required conscious thought. Her need caused power to wind through her, ending her pain and healing her breaks and fractures. Only, not completely. A magic, a force greater than her own, restrained the Fairy Queen.

  She became numb, and her limbs wouldn’t function properly. Her skin remained black, her hair short and patchy. Open wounds refused to seal, but worst of all, as reason returned to Maven’s shattered mind, she realized her wings, her beautiful wings, were gone. They had been completely burned away.

  “Why?” Maven begged hoarsely for an answer. “I helped him! I freed him! It was within the rules!”

  Maven herself didn’t truly believe that. Would a being that appointed Keepers, that created the Trials, and monitored them be fooled by her lies? The lightning that resounded in the sky said no.

  “You do not define the rules, Maven! One last chance. Stand Keeper, stand Fairy Queen! Offer fair recompense or suffer.”

  It wasn’t her own power that lifted Maven to her feet. She hadn’t the strength or will to stand, but what the Voice demanded, happened. Maven was forced upright to stand before Trent. A fresh wave of pain surged through her.

  She bit back a scream. The sight of the Al’rashian boy towering over her foot-high frame stirred her pride. Wouldn’t he like to see her in pain? Would he delight in her screams? Maven refused to give him that pleasure!

  Her magic was diminished. She had lost so much today. Some had been stolen by the Garden to transform the Brute girl, and some she had used to sever Trent’s Bond, but most had been drained away in her attempt to heal her wounds. She still had enough for what she had in mind.

  A tiny ball of magic gathered before her. If Trent hadn’t been lost in his own misery, he might have thought it looked like a small Ability Stone. He might have been curious about it. More likely, he would have feared it.

  The Voice could have stopped Maven. It wasn’t blind. It could see what the Fairy Queen intended. Maven was less than an ant in front of the one who controlled the Trials. However, interference was not the Voice’s way. There would be consequences to the Fairy’s actions, for her and the boy, but the Voice did not stop her.

  Screaming, “Here’s your recompense! I hope you choke on it!” Maven willed the magic she had gathered to shoot towards Trent. Normally, an Adventurer had a choice, whether to learn an Ability or not. Maven didn’t offer this option to Trent. The ball of light touched his forehead and sunk in. Fairy magic was forcefully imbued into the unknowing boy.

  There was no set age for Awakening a Status. For some, it came early at ten years; others might not Awaken until they were fifteen or older. For all, an Awakening meant adulthood. It brought responsibility and acceptance. Some cultures shielded the young for a few years, a few Levels, but it was acknowledged that an Awakened must be allowed to grow.

  Trent’s Status said he was twelve years old. He had come into the world knowing how to speak, read, and write in two languages. In fact, he was more knowledgeable than most twelve-year-olds, and he strove daily to build upon the foundation he had been given. There were areas where his knowledge was lacking, though. He was a child in many ways, despite his Class and experiences.

  If another child had found himself facing Trent’s current situation, he would have wept for his mother. He would have called for his father. In such a time as this, a child needed the support and comfort of a parent. Trent knew nothing of these things.

  He couldn’t even scream. Fairy magic had torn through him, leaving agony in its wake. He gasped and swallowed. He choked on his own saliva, causing him to cough and hack weakly. He whimpered and drew short breaths in through his nose. He didn’t bring up his Status, but that mysterious screen that held the details of his substance flashed before his eyes, unbidden.

  New Ability detected, Fairy Cloak. No Level. Ability is incompatible with Awakened being. Altering Ability. New Ability created. Choose desired effects.

  The message repeated again and again. The word ‘choose' seared into his mind. A list of possible effects for Fairy Cloak scrolled by in Trent’s vision, but he couldn’t concentrate on them. The pain was all-consuming. Every second was a torment as his mind and body were filled with an alien power that did not belong.

  Choose! Choose! The word gradually registered to Trent. This had happened before! He knew what he had to do.

  “Run, I'll run!” He tried to shout his choice, tried to appease the slave driver inside himself. The pain wouldn’t stop.

  Choose! Choose! What was happening? He had chosen! His master wanted him to train, he would train. He would run! He would!

  That was it! He didn’t have a master any longer. That part of him was gone. Kirstin hadn’t just left him outside the Al’drossford Keep with orders to train. Trent hyperventilated and shook. Where was he? What was he supposed to do? He was willing to do anything if only the pain would stop!

  The Trial. The Garden. Fairies. He was in a Trial. He had to choose… what were these words floating by. Was this what he had to choose? He picked at random and gasped out the first words he recognized.

  “Dampen Presence! “

  It wasn’t enough. One effect wasn’t enough. His eyesight blurred. How could he choose again, he could hardly see? He blinked away tears and tried to focus. He chose.

  “Stealth Enhancement!”

  The pain lessened. It wasn’t enough.

  “Mask s-s-status,” he stuttered as he hissed out the last word. The Beast that was trying to rip its way out of his body stilled.

  You have gained new Ability, Fairy Cloak Level 1. Ability is active. Effects: Dampen Presence, Stealth Enhancement, and Mask Status.

  Trent read the message. He closed his Status. He collapsed face-first onto the paving stones. It would be some time before he awoke.

  **********

  Maven floated several feet off the ground. She had been standing in front of Trent when she cast her spell and would have been crushed beneath the fainting boy. Only her ascent saved the Keeper from this indignity. That humiliation would have been preferable.

  Maven’s wings had been burned away. What was left of her magic was represse
d. It was not her own power that held her up. While she had reveled in Trent’s torment, her jeering laughter had been cut off abruptly when an invisible hand wrapped itself around her and lifted her skywards.

  Any defiance left in the Fairy Queen was replaced by dread. The storm clouds grew darker overhead. Bolts of blue crackled ominously as they rolled through the heavens. She wouldn’t survive another hit from that divine punishment. She closed her eyes, unwilling to see her end approach.

  “You have failed, Fairy Queen. Failed Keeper. Your word broken, your obligations unmet, thus is our pact dissolved.”

  Pact dissolved? The Voice was granting her mercy? The pact's end meant her freedom! Maven wouldn’t be a Keeper; she would have to leave the Garden! This was the best possible result! Centuries of watching Adventurers in the Garden hadn’t cured Maven of the fears that had brought her to this place, but they had lessened.

  She was ready. Ready to Awaken a Status and lead her tribe back into the world. She would level quickly; she knew how it was done. In very little time, she would carve out an empire for herself! The races of the world would learn to fear her!

  “You have failed as Keeper; another will be appointed. The Garden of Clarity will be Changed. You will be one of its Guardians.”

  Guardian? No!

  No! No! No! No! No! Guardians were servants in the Trials! They were slaves! Most were little better than standard Trial Beasts. They battled Adventurers, never knowing the release of death. Even in victory, they never gained freedom! A Trial Beast was an extension of the Trial’s Spirit and would not be bothered by these conditions. For a sentient creature, for Maven… she would rather perish.