After traveling for some time in Ojin, the coast was finally clear to open a portal back to Token. Alan swapped out his War Title for Ultimus and twisted his hand to create an opening. The blue cloudlike residue zipped in an outward circle, slowly revealing a window to his realm. He sighed with relief when he realized it wasn’t on fire. Just the opposite, actually. Former warriors of Hightower Brack sat leisurely eating bread and admiring the mountainside that Alan had molded to be enjoyed.

  It was time to go home.

  “Alan…” Trish hooked onto his arm. “That looks like—”

  He felt the nerves in his ex-girlfriend’s voice. She was nearly breathless.

  “Our hikes to Red Rock Canyon. I know. That’s where I pulled some of the inspiration.” Alan smiled.

  “I’m awestruck,” she said.

  “That I made it, or that I chose Red Rock?” Alan smirked.

  “Both. I never would’ve—jeez,” she lost her voice.

  “Okay, lovebird idiots.” Itsy waved around an oversize blade of grass. “Unless you want every army in the low fog to see our little gateway, I suggest we get a move on.” She stepped through the portal first.

  Alan motioned for the Stalkers reforming from their black puddles to enter next, leaving Trish and him alone. A pang rocked his gut, pulsing pain in his neck, his body screaming at him to get away like a defense mechanism fighting past trauma. And for once, he was going to listen.

  He picked her fingers off his arm.

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t do this.”

  She swallowed past a lump. “Do what?”

  “This. The flirting. Rekindling. When I first got here, I wanted more than anything to show my worth to you. But now that I have… I’m realizing I live for more,” Alan said. “I can’t keep living in the fantasies of the past. Don’t get me wrong, I value our good times more than you know.” His fist pulsed Variant Saro colors. “But they must stay where they belong… in my memories.”

  Trish smiled sadly. “I see.”

  “I have to win this war, Trish. Or at least do what I can to help. People count on me in there.”

  “I counted on you once,” Trish said, hitting him again where it hurt. “But I can see plain as day things are different now. I have no doubt you’ll succeed.” She patted him twice dejectedly and moseyed into the portal, giving him one last look before her body faded… leaving him alone.

  He put his hands on his hips and stared at the Ojin sky. “This is madness,” he sighed and stepped into Token.

  Fsssh!

  His consciousness reformed with his body around it, to a snowy confetti welcome.

  “Alan, by the rump bottoms of Froggie Aisle.” Flint threw out his arms. “You’ve returned. Ah!” His eyes suddenly stared blankly, likely at a prompt popping up. “Aha! A War Title! You did it!” He jumped high and started swimming in the air, elongating his whiskers and twirling as if they just won the war.

  “It is a great win, my friend.” Alan leapt to tug on Flint’s beard hair, bringing the Wizard back to earth. “But we have far to go.”

  “Of course we do, but if we don’t celebrate our small victories, we might forget what it’s like to feel.” He waved his staff in the air. “Aha! Aha!”

  “We will make time to cheer, friend. First I need to know how we’re holding,” Alan said.

  “Mm. Mostly? Good. Good. Very good, yes. Aho, there are a few mishaps though. That prison you had built for Lucius grows in criminals. Loyalists to Junos snuck their way in and tried to stab the liberated in the night.”

  Alan stiffened, feeling heat rise up his neck. “Casualties?”

  “Thankfully none, this time. We must be careful for subterfuge. Hm. I see more are among you. Are they vetted?”

  “What does it look like, you smelly shit stirrer.” Itsy smiled wide at the Wizard.

  He bonked her over the head with his staff. “And if I hadn’t asked, you jisty belldrop? You’d call me the jester of the ball!”

  “Quite right I would. Hah!” She grabbed Flint by the hands and started twirling with him.

  Alan fought not to roll his eyes. “Anything else?”

  “Mm. Ahem. The refugees grow tired of consuming essence for nourishment. They’re used to high castles and fresh produce,” Flint shouted amidst his spinning.

  Alan stared up to the clouds, thinking. “We can open up trade between Token and Strangey Town. Not in abundance, but at the very least to give our warriors some variety. I also have to set up prompts for citizenship of Token.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “This is becoming overwhelming.”

  Flint spun toward Alan and bonked him over the head. “Do not let it! That’s why you have friends!”

  “Right.”

  Neesha came rushing up with a massive war stone sticking out from her robes. “When I saw the new Title, I knew you did it, Alan.” Her excitement stifled when Trish took a protective step toward him, which he quickly pivoted away from.

  “And who might you be?” Neesha tilted her head.

  Alan could cut the tension with a knife. It radiated from his back, his front, and everywhere in between. He wished Flint wasn’t cackling off in the distance with Itsy.

  Nastaf and his crew scratched their heads.

  “Well, this is awkward. We’re going to follow the Knight to our quarters,” Nastaf nodded for his crew to follow Itsy spinning into the distance.

  “Now it is,” Trish said with a straight face.

  “Payback for the Saro bond, Alan? I knew you weren’t over it,” Neesha said, honing her crystal-blue eyes only on Trish.

  “Nothing of the sort,” Alan swore. “This is Trish, my ex-girlfriend from my Origin World.”

  “Ah, ex. I see.” Neesha shot her an icy glare.

  “It’s complicated.” Trish smiled back angrily.

  “Like everything else that surrounds our noble leader.” Neesha turned away. “Speaking of. Alan, I’ve been wracking this war Answer Stone and have more on Titles. I’m hoping what I found will evoke secret prompts that give us some semblance of the War Title’s power.”

  “I’ll be joining, if you don’t mind. I need to understand mine as well,” Trish invited herself brazenly.

  Kaw!

  Alan looked to the sky.

  Oh thank god.

  He relished in the idea of some kind of buffer between the two annoyed ladies and couldn’t be happier to see the Legion of Fate flying in a “V” formation with Madam Mar soaring on a lifted patch of dirt at the forefront.

  As the gryphons descended, Alan noticed scars on both them and the warriors atop them. Torn armor and glum faces spoke to run-ins with some harsh foes.

  Kaw!

  The gryphons flapped in unison before gently touching down on the grass, Madam Mar floating last with a determined smirk.

  “Well played, Alan. The new Titles displayed suit your group well, which can only mean you succeeded with the Royal Horde.” Mardonnus bowed.

  “Here, here, Alan.” Elkire hopped off his gryphon and strutted up to them, trying his best to hide his limp.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “My friend, it’s good to see you,” Alan greeted.

  “I wish it were under better circumstances,” Elkire admitted. “But not to worry, we are caught up and at your service. Whoever would’ve guessed our god would betray us so brazenly.”

  “Not Brack’s finest moment.” Irana scowled as she dismounted. “Now we’re forced to follow a prick like you.” She grinned, hitting him on the shoulder.

  “Good to have you aboard.” Alan meant is wholeheartedly.

  “Hah, everything you touch turns to ash. You need us to put out the fires,” Irana said.

  “No fire here.” Alan spread his arms.

  “Yet.” She held up a finger.

  Tenger whistled from atop his gryphon, rustling the beast’s hair to annoy it. “Yo, bruhs. We showing him or what?”

  “Showing me what?” Alan asked.

  “All aboard.” Madam Mar beckoned Alan on her floating dirt patch. “You too, Neesha, and um?”

  “Trish,” she said. “From Alan’s Origins.”

  “I see. Welcome,” Mar said somewhat hesitantly.

  “Oh no, no. We have a certain dark prince to see. I have him detained for you—”

  “Let him rot a little longer.” Elkire dropped a heavy hand on Alan’s shoulder. “We have bigger fish to fry. That’s how you Earthers say it, yeah?”

  “But… your entire purpose?” Alan said, still disbelieving Madam Mar that the Legion of Fate had put their grand chase on hold.

  “We of the Fate Chasers all miss our Origins more than life itself. However, we have a duty to some here as well. Leaving them to die during hostile takeovers is not something we would be able to live with, even if we had all the Pegs,” Elkire said.

  “That’s quite noble of you.” Alan patted him back. “All of you share the same sentiment?”

  “’Course we do, Merchant. Been serving Brack since your ass was getting wiped,” Irana scowled.

  “Besides, the other Pegs went dark shortly after Hyndole retreated from Strangey Town. An oddity my map has never seen in all my years with it. Ah, it’s neither here nor there.” Elkire turned for his gryphon. “Come, brethren, let us show our grand protector what we’ve built for him.”

  Alan side-eyed Neesha, who shrugged, before they all climbed atop Mardonnus’ dirt patch.

  Madam Mar grabbed at a piece of rope that looked awfully like a worm. “To the top of Mount Alan.”

  Alan grimaced. “Please, no. Don’t call it that.”

  Mardonnus chuckled as they lifted toward the sky.

  “You’re beloved more than I’ve seen of anyone in this universe.” Trish took a seat, folding her legs and peering over the dirt patch without an ounce of fear.

  Alan admired her courage. He always did.

  “Oh, don’t pet his feathers too gingerly,” Neesha scoffed.

  Trish shook her head. “If you only knew…”

  “Knew what?” Neesha gave in.

  “I’ve seen this in him all along.”

  Alan stepped away from her. It bothered him to no end that even now she was pretending his potential was so obvious on Earth. Alan was bashed mentally every which way back then, most of all from her. So instead of giving in to the nonsense, he decided to join the view beside Mardonnus.

  His brow furrowed when he noticed the mountaintop carved into impossible shapes—orbs held up by thin rock sediments, all surrounding a gryphon statue on a flat top. The closer they zoomed, the clearer it became what the statue actually was—a throne room. The wings of the stone gryphon reached high in the air with its beak open to the floor. An entrance.

  “A place for you to contemplate the prompts of your realm.” Mardonnus arced an eyebrow. “All realm leaders need space for that. This will be yours.”

  Alan remained dumbfounded as he landed right in front of the art. “How?”

  “Borrowed a little bit of Saro here and there,” Mardonnus admitted. “The Fate Chasers have quite the sculptors too.”

  “It’s amazing, friends. Thank you.” Alan strolled up to the stone and rubbed his hand against it, noting the grand detail in the beast’s eye. He realized it was a model of his own gryphon—Ara.

  “You have a long road ahead of you, Alan. We wanted to make sure you knew…” Elkire lifted his chin as high as possible. “You’re far from alone.”

  xxx

  The fireplace in his throne room was a nice touch. Carpets included sewn-in symbols from Hightower Brack groups leading all the way up to a modest cathedra with a burgundy velvet seat and a white crystal outline. Cozy candelabras rested on the desk in the opposite corner, and a balcony displayed the most amazing scenery his mind could’ve conjured. Alan preferred the floor though. Sitting cross-legged in a corner after thanking his friends one hundred times for the gift proved to be the best medicine for calming his mind.

  In the hour that followed Madam Mar offered Trish a tour—knowing Alan needed some space—while the Fate Chasers ran the rounds distributing food to Token’s newest citizens. That left Alan to his own devices, or so he thought.

  A pair of soft hands slid over his, sending tingling sensations all the way up his arms. “Alan,” Neesha whispered so as not to jar him. “When I found the Answer Stone in the deep orange… the reason for war became clear.”

  Alan opened his eyes, swiping away the prompts in his mind. “Yes, and no one but you can ever know—”

  “Well, that’s not entirely true.”

  Alan furrowed his brow.

  “Someone can know. Only one other, to be precise. And I’ve decided it should be you.”

  “Neesha…”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Alan did his best not to seem accusatory about the rivalry Trish and her were clearly forming, but he couldn’t help it.

  “This wouldn’t have to do with—”

  Tshh!

  She slapped him across the face. “How dare you accuse me of being so trivial. This is everything I’ve ever chased since my first death. My mother, my sister— they spent their entire lives as war riders. They—”

  “Alright.” Alan gritted his teeth from the familiar sting of Neesha’s palm.

  “And not that it’s of any concern regarding this matter, but… I do not trust her.”

  Alan laughed. “Of course you don’t.”

  “In fact, seeing her sullies my confidence in your Origin World. What kind of being appears so fair yet clings to Black Saro? That woman is akin to the tale of the black widow,” Neesha scoffed.

  Alan let go of her hands, but she quickly lunged to get them back.

  “Tangent over,” she promised, reaching behind her and pressing the slab of stone in the space between them. “Watching you defend a town you hated with your life, then rescuing a realm you had no business sticking your nose in… oh, Alan. It has to be you I share this with.”

  “I’m honored.”

  The etchings within the stone glowed to life, sending whispers into Alan’s ears. Different voices with various emotions distracted him. A man riding into battle shouting philosophy. Queen-like royalty weeping out her reasons for sending her forces into battle. It had only taken a minute before he realized he might go mad.

  Is this what she experiences all the time? God it’s annoying.

  Neesha took a deep breath, closing her eyes while tracing the stone with her finger as if reading braille.

  “The reason the universe tips toward war is because without it, peace has no meaning.”

  “Like yin and yang,” Alan said. “Good and evil. It’s a classic truth, Neesha.”

  “Precisely.” Neesha nodded. “Those are the Earth concepts. In Cerrain, we had Urha and Ohm. The idea is passed down from this universe to our Origins. A world cannot be made without it, because with complex life comes reason. And with reason comes motive. And with motive comes decision. The prime decision is based on survival, which as you eloquently put in our first meeting, is the prime reduction of war. You see, Alan, it had to be you, because you understood this cycle all along.”

  Alan couldn’t help but feel a bit inflated. He’d thought about war in his Origin and why people did it. Selling all sorts of obscure historical muskets and pistols sent his mind spiraling into trances of soldiers back then. But he never imagined an all-knowing stone would have his thoughts etched into it.

  “The stone goes on to say that with complexity can come great evil, Alan. An intensive war may end without extinction and guarantee a time of peace, but what if such a war is not won by good natured? That peace becomes tainted, and the very reason for war in the first place is upended.”

  “And what does the stone say about the subjectivity of good?” Alan asked.

  “If one does not seek forced control or dominance, then they are fighting on the right side.” Neesha opened her eyes. “The side of won peace.”

  “And if the evil side wins without causing the universe to go extinct, I imagine forced control creates slaves that will always desire to rise up and a new war will begin,” Alan said.

  “A new war will begin regardless of the victor. If we can win, however, the peace will be that of legend.” Neesha let out a shaky breath.

  Alan noticed her palms shivering over the stone, tears leaking from her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Something Lucius said.”

  “Apply your favorite statement to that man, because he simply cannot be trusted. He’s screwed me over three times now.”

  “Would you not have done the same?”

  “I would not,” Alan said with utmost confidence, making Neesha turn sharply away.

  “For my sister—seeing her again in that frogs’ vision—I’m not so sure.” She squeezed her fists tight.

  “What did the prick say?” Alan caved.

  “Jaeger. His whole realm knows the plans if he is to succeed. He has access to a well into the Black. Lucius said you and him saw one when battling the Merchant of the Five Pearls.”

  “We did.” An uneasiness started to creep up his spine.

  “Well, Jaeger intends to purge any and all souls who oppose him. They would be stuck there for eternity. Extinction of all hearts willing to fight. A darkness that spans beyond this Answer Stone.” Neesha peered up at him. “We can’t lose, Alan.”

  Alan grabbed her clammy hands. “We won’t.”

  xxx

  Alan sauntered into the prison block now full with angry Junos loyalists, icing the space between the bars with White Saro so he didn’t have to deal with their snarls and taunts. He beckoned the Legion of Fate forward, to the somber prince he promised them sulking in the corner.

  “I hear you’re making waves even from here.” Alan clenched his icy hand, sending cracks in the ice walls he just created.

  “I was beginning to think you’d forgot about me.” Lucius showed his magically chained wrists. “Have you saved the universe yet, noble Alan?”

  “Not quite.” Alan looked over his shoulder to Elkire holding back an angry snarl. “What you told Neesha, is it true?”

  “I tell that Chaser a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific.” Lucius tossed a piece of gravel at the wall.

  “About Jaeger’s plans to ruling. Does he really have a black well?” Alan asked.

  “is it so hard to believe? That shadowy Merchant Five had access to one,” Lucius said.

  “We needed a sacrifice and Yineera’s Peg to activate it,” Alan replied. “It was my understanding the space around a well cannot be inhabited for long without detrimental effects. That’s why Five kept it in a shadow realm, deep enough—”

  “Jaeger finds a way.” Lucius got to his feet. “Is the great Alan scared of floating in nothingness for eternity? Does he seek aid from his old friend who’s been planning to navigate the underworld?”

  Alan clenched his jaw. “Your fate is to rot here… unless you return what was taken.” He motioned to Elkire and crew behind him.

  Lucius scoffed. “What’s the point? You were only halfway done with collections. You’d need my other half to get anywhere with them.”

  Impossible…

  No way he collected them all.

  The Legion broke out in chatter, until Elkire lifted his hand.

  “Your tongue is forked, serpent. You lie in front of my brethren to rouse them.”

  Lucius smirked. “Didn’t you find it odd that all of the Pegs went dark at the same time? I’m sure your little map told you so.”

  Elkire did his best to hide his disdain.

  “That’s right. They’re in my possession—hidden—and there’s only one way you’re getting access to them, Fate Chasers. I’ll take one from Alan’s book for this one. It will be through a deal.”

  “And what deal is that?” Elkire stepped up to the bars and crossed his hands behind his back.

  “I go first.”