Glenn Darby enjoyed his days with the strange, but amusing Ethan Bishop. The man was good company, shared coins from his Hunts, and treated Glenn with a respect that the local Hunters rarely expressed. They often looked down on knights, not considering them true Hunters with their limited Familiars.

  It was an enjoyable duty, compared to some, and he didn’t really worry that his charge might try to escape. Frankly if it was known that Glenn did things like sit on a rock in a forest, trusting that Ethan would return, a dressing down would be the least of the consequences. But as the remarkable hydra danced around him, Glenn found that he truly did not care.

  Deevee was exquisite. It felt like sacrilege to be so obsessed with the little hydra when Ethan was also Bonded to the Guardian Beast, but the little serpent amazed him. As a boy Glenn had dreamed of Bonding some kind of legendary dragon, though even then he’d force himself to be more realistic, deciding he’d settle for some plain beast–maybe a gray drake from the South.

  But the so-called Dimension Devourer was beyond anything he might have imagined. It was sleek, and beautiful. It swam through the air with no need for wings, the sun reflecting off its deep purple hide. Occasionally it would simply disappear into a tiny rift, appearing somewhere nearby, for no purpose that Glenn could discern.

  He threw a small piece of meat upward, and the single-headed hydra swooped down, catching it easily in its toothy mouth. Glenn always brought extra, in case he got to feed both heads, but Ethan usually kept one of the Deevees nearby for that insane teleport of his.

  Suddenly the hydra spun in a rapid circle, glowing with blue-white energy. Glenn got to his feet, two handed sword materializing a moment later. “Break time’s over, eh little friend?” He wasted no time, charging noisily through the woods, his breath hot inside the steel helmet.

  He could see the white quickcervus through the trees, and prepared himself. He knew his heavy Dawn rank armor should be able to keep him safe, but if enough of the beasts charged, he could be in trouble. He called Kit to his side, and the huge white dog was soon loping beside him, ready for anything.

  Glenn burst into the clearing yelling a battle cry like he’d been told. He used [Jump Strike] immediately to leap into the air and crash down on the nearest stag, trying to create as much chaos as possible. He grinned as his sword bit deep. One for Glenn, he thought happily, looking up at thirty others breaking in every direction.

  Hopefully Ethan gets the one he needs, most of these things are going to escape. He hammered on his plate mail to create more noise, but held his position at the edge of the clearing to block some of the runners. Kit did the same, but there was still plenty of room, and at least a quarter of the creatures ran past him toward the open forest.

  Suddenly nets burst from the ground, stretching out between the trees. They were made of strange rope, somehow covered in little quills, and several of the panicked quickcervus crashed into them. They reared back, letting out high pitched wails from the hundreds of small cuts they’d received, then ran toward the other side of the clearing.

  “When did Ethan learn that ability?” Glenn said in confusion. How are magic nets related to Fire, or Dimension? Were they an illusion? A spiky illusion? No answers were coming as the herd charged away toward the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. Glenn expected Ethan to appear there, but instead three explosions went off almost in unison, terrifying the beasts and sending them back into a dense gathering.

  Without warning, arrows began to rain down on them. “What in the name of the Goddess is happening?!” Glenn roared, holding his sword defensively. There had to be a hundred arrows soaring through the air, peppering into the mass of confused creatures. They seemed too weak on their own to take the beasts down, but it certainly enraged them.

  Glenn could sense when the battle shifted, the white stags suddenly switched from trying to escape, to looking for enemies. He readied his sword once again, trusting the unseen archer wasn’t targeting him. A quickcervus detached from the pack, charging toward him, and he readied [Counterstrike].

  Before the beast was even halfway to him, a wave of black energy slashed through it, and the monster collapsed to the ground. Glenn blinked, sword still ready. A moment later another of the monsters similarly collapsed at the edge of the herd, and the creatures began to buck and swing their antlered heads, clearly searching for the unseen threat.

  They didn’t seem to find it, but Glenn did, finally spotting Ethan. The madman would only appear for a heartbeat, his white coat billowing out as he suddenly attacked, twin blades slashing at throats, and piercing into hearts. Then he would disappear into a cloud of darkness that looked much like the deadly wave of energy that accompanied his every strike.

  Glenn shook his head in disbelief, remembering the lost and confused man he’d met only a couple of months earlier. Determined to be of help, he charged forward, eyes locked on another quickcervus. He raised his sword, trusting it to slice easily through the thin antlers, but again he was denied. A black shape appeared out of nowhere, and Glenn had to halt his sword lest he accidentally slice into the sacred Guardian Beast, its burning tails flailing in the air.

  Flagras wasn’t much bigger than Kit, though he was considerably thicker with muscle. His red mane and matching red stripes were a blur of motion as he savaged the downed stag, his teeth locked on its neck. The moment it stopped moving Flagras released it, then he released a continuous expulsion of flame, igniting two more of the quickcervus which were again trying to flee.

  At that point Glenn was not only struggling to find an opponent, but becoming increasingly worried he might hit a friend. When he turned at a sound behind him, he saw another of the stags charging, antlers lowered. His sword was there in an instant, ready to block.

  The expected blow never came, as the beast fell to the ground, sliding toward him on the ground. Glenn noticed the thick black arrow through the back of the creature’s head a second later, and followed the trajectory to finally spot the hidden archer, perched on a large boulder. She gave him a quick wave, before returning to her task, arrows firing faster than Glenn could follow.

  “Cara?” he said in confusion. “Okay, I’m done,” he said, backing slowly away from the burning, arrow-filled chaos with his sword raised. Nearly twenty of the quickcervus were already down, and the rest were lost to absolute panic. Between the fire cat, the endless stream of glowing missiles from the archer, and the continuous eruptions of black death, it was an unmitigated slaughter.

  Glenn was impressed, and happy to see things going so well. This time, however, he couldn’t quite hold back the envy upon seeing what Hunters with proper Bonds could do. He found himself forced to agree with the less than equal view of knights in that moment, as he watched monsters fall, one after another.

  ***

  Ethan sat on a rock in the middle of the clearing. He was exhausted, and bloody. Most of it belonged to the dozens of dead stags around him, but more than one had managed to spear him with those antlers. He took another sip of the Tea of Renewal, enjoying the taste despite its bitterness.

  Cara stood nearby, clearly frustrated. She didn’t have a looting power, and had been prepared to skin the creatures herself. Finding out it wasn’t needed had left her with nothing to do, so she merely waited, tapping her foot. She’d refused the tea.

  “This stuff is incredible,” Glenn said, sipping his own. “I’m not a tea guy, either.” As usual, Glenn’s eyes were locked on Deevee as the little hydra’s twin bodies soared around the battlefield, checking each body for the needed Dimensional Affinity. Apparently it was so thin in these creatures that the Familiar couldn’t even smell it, and Ethan sensed its irritation.

  “So what ability are you supposed to get from this? Any ideas?” Glenn asked.

  “Not sure,” Ethan replied. He couldn’t quite keep the pain from his voice. What he’d done had been…incredible. He’d never felt so free, so connected to his powers. But he’d also never used so much mana at once, and his scars burned like acid in his veins. “Deevee is excited though. So it’s something that excites a hydra?”

  “Maybe you’ll grow another head,” Glenn said, nodding sagely.

  “Wait, is that a possibility?” Ethan asked. “Do people get body-changing powers?”

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  “Oh definitely. Not common here, but some Hunter societies are full of shape-shifters. There’s a lot of power to be had in that type of thing.” He took another slow sip of tea, as Ethan eyed the little hydras warily.

  At last they rushed back together, spinning happily over one of the quickcervus. The monster and Familiar glowed in unison for a moment, and all three Hunters turned to watch. Finally Deevee rushed back to Ethan, disappearing into his chest. Immediately he felt what the Dimension Devourer had gifted him.

  “Well, what is it?” Glenn asked.

  Ethan looked at the knight. “It kind of is a second head,” he said, not quite sure what to make of the power. Glenn made a ‘why do I even talk to you?’ gesture, and Ethan grinned. Closing his eyes, he focused. Hydra’s Reflection.

  Blue and white light erupted from him, but instead of teleporting, a perfect copy stepped forward, then turned around to look at him. Ethan looked at himself, the image seeming backward. The dark green eyes were his own, and he needed a haircut. He swallowed a little at seeing the many scars from this perspective.

  There was also the pristine white coat over the sleek red and black leather armor. And blood. So much blood.

  Ethan shook his head to clear it, the duplicate doing likewise. Devastating introspection can wait until I’m home alone, like a normal person. He went back to getting a feel for the ability. Glenn came up next to the duplicate. “Is this an illusion?” he asked, poking the other Ethan in the shoulder.

  “I’m not an illusion,” Other Ethan said, turning to look suddenly at the knight, who jumped back. “I’m…both of us, somehow. It’s really breaking my brain. Brains.” Both Ethans put hands on their heads. Feeling a little sick, he dismissed the ability, the other Ethan disappearing into light. Mana flooded back into his Bond, tearing through his already tender scars.

  Needing more details, Ethan pulled up the skill description from the system.

  New Ability!

  Ability: Hydra's Reflection (Dawn Rank 0: 0%)

  Type: Dimension, Conjuration

  Special: Requires [Hydra’s Focus]

  For an extreme mana cost, you may conjure a copy of yourself formed from Dimensional Energy. Your consciousness will have direct control of this copy, which can perform any available abilities by expending its own mana. Copy lasts until it is destroyed, its mana is spent, or the ability is deactivated. Deactivating the ability will return unused mana to the caster.

  “Yikes,” Ethan said, looking at the description and nursing a headache. “Apparently this thing is only possible with a Mind-Bonded hydra. It genuinely splits my consciousness. I wasn’t even sure what was going on.”

  Glenn gave him an odd look. “So there’s actually two of you,” he said.

  Ethan glared back. “I agree, the world isn’t ready for such splendor,” he said dryly. “At least I understand why Deevee was so excited…this is what it’s like for a hydra all the time. It’s going to take an insane amount of training.”

  He looked back at Glenn, but the man was just staring at him. “What?” Ethan asked, but the man didn’t respond. He turned to Cara. “What did I say?” he asked but the archer wasn’t moving either. In fact, she was holding perfectly still.

  Ethan spun back around in confusion, reaching out a hand to touch the apparently frozen knight. “Better not to touch,” a gravelly voice said, and Ethan snatched his hand back. Following the voice, he turned and saw an unassuming man of elven heritage in simple clothes.

  He walked toward Ethan. His blonde hair had faded mostly to gray, and his eyes were pale, but the Bond Runes the man wore were all that mattered. They reached up, spreading from his chest to the tips of his fingers, and even over his face. They glowed white, something Ethan had only seen once before, on a Champion he’d met in Potentia.

  “May I sit?” the elf asked. “Your friends are unharmed, this is simply not a conversation for them.” He moved and sat on the rock Glenn had been using, looking curiously at the teapot resting on the ground. Ethan glanced again at his frozen companions, then shrugged, and went to join the man.

  “Tea?” he asked, and the stranger nodded gratefully. Ethan poured another cup, and refilled his own. They both took a sip while examining one another. Ethan exalted in the feeling as a trickle of energy flowed into him from the brew. The elf just watched him, appraisingly.

  “You’re the Chosen,” Ethan said at last.

  The man smiled slightly, then held out his hand which Ethan shook. “I didn’t think your senses strong enough to identify another Chosen,” the elf said matter of factly. ‘Another’ Chosen. Busted.

  “It’s unlikely there’s more than one being of your power in this Kingdom, let alone one with any interest in a humble man like myself. I’m Ethan Bishop, by the way.”

  “Lathander,” the other Chosen responded, before sipping his tea. His eyes were looking down though, and they widened slowly. “That rune…” he said, “where did it come from?”

  Ethan panicked, thinking the elf was talking about the symbol of Apollo, but then he realized it was his other arm that had garnered attention. “This one?” he asked, pointing at the Mad System tattoo. Lathander nodded slowly. “It came in a survival kit I received from Champion Allyara,” he answered, knowing that a lie would be seen in an instant.

  The elf swallowed. “Did it tell you the name of its creator?”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Dalton? Hold on, I’ll get the rest of his name…”

  “Master Arturo Dalton,” the elf said without hesitation. Ethan looked up in surprise. “Is it…is it functioning as you’d expect?”

  “Yes? I think?” Ethan replied. “Is this a problem? I thought these things were common, no one has reacted strangely before now.”

  Lathander let out a breath. “Interfaces are common, though less so in this area. Dalton though…it should be fine,” he said, not sounding at all convincing.

  “Should I try to get this thing off?” Ethan asked in concern.

  “It is Champion rank. It cannot be removed,” Lathander said. “But I didn’t mean to alarm you. The system won’t harm you, and much of it is still inactive. Just follow your own judgement and you’ll be fine.”

  That is so many miles from comforting, Ethan thought.

  “Regardless,” the elf said, clearly wanting to change the subject, “I did not come here for this, but to speak of the Chosen. And you are correct, the magic of this land is unsuitable to those of my power. Still, when a new Chosen rises, one of us will always come. It is one of our duties.”

  “So there’s other duties. I’ve asked around, people don’t seem to know much about what you folks are doing. Mostly it’s just vague respect with an undercurrent of fear.”

  Again, a small smile. “It is not for most to know. Even those who think they understand are unlikely to know the truth.” Ethan found himself sitting forward, not willing to waste this opportunity.

  “What is a Chosen?” he asked. “Just once I’d like to hear an answer from someone who truly understands.”

  Lathander hesitated. “The simplest answer is that we’re those lucky enough to have Bonded one of the Guardians. There aren’t many, and each is unique, haunting a specific place in this world. The more complicated answer is wrapped up in our purpose.”

  He took another sip of tea. “Chosen have a duty beyond mere nations. It is a duty to Nexum itself, and one that will be yours someday as well.”

  “But not yet?” Ethan asked.

  “But not yet. For now it is your duty to live, and grow strong. You will not have the power to be a part of the greater role of the Chosen for some time.”

  “Then why are you here, Lathander?”

  The elf hesitated then. “Chosen have been…dying. The oldest of us have yet to encounter this unknown threat, but you must be vigilant. Prince Kentevaro was not the first. There are too few of us already.”

  “With respect, how the hell does this help me? You think I haven’t been trying to not die? If you want to keep me alive then take me to a place where no one’s heard of Flagras!”

  “I cannot,” Lathander replied. “Not all Chosen share my thoughts on helping the new generation. If I’m suspected of helping you rise, then others will ensure you fall.”

  “Then again I ask, why are you even here?” Ethan said with undisguised frustration.

  The elf grew more serious. “I am here to tell you of a great conflict, that you might choose which side you’re on.” His words hung in the air, and Ethan’s frustrations fell away as something inside him seemed to react to the statement. Lathander leaned forward, looking Ethan in the eye. “The three worlds have always been destined to collide.”

  Ethan pictured the images he’d seen in the Church as the elf went on. “The rifts are at the core of it, and it is no secret that they grow worse. The worlds want to join, but powerful forces work to hold them back, as others work equally hard to bring them together.”

  “Which side are you on?” Ethan asked quietly, and the man smiled.

  “That is the most dangerous question you could ask, young Chosen. For if it’s the opposite side that you choose, we’re destined to destroy one another.” Ethan wisely didn’t push.

  “How am I supposed to choose my side?” he asked, and the older Chosen put down his cup before standing.

  “You will learn more of the conflict as you grow in power. It is an inevitability for our kind. All I can tell you is that you will be choosing your enemies as well as your allies, and you must consider that choice carefully.” Lathander started walking away.

  Ethan stood up, watching the powerful Chosen go. He couldn’t help asking one final question. “Who would possibly be on the side of more rifts, more demons?” he called out.

  Lathander turned back, looking at Ethan with an amused smile. “A question you’d be better served asking your own people, Terran.” And then he was gone.