CHAPTER 56: THE BEGINNING OF AN IDEA
The brilliant silver flash of the spatial artifact faded, replaced by the oppressive, shadow-filled canopy of an unknown wilderness.
If the artifact had done its job, John and the princess should have materialized within the safe embrace of his mother's domain. But the spatial transfer had its limits.
Overloaded by the violent, unbridled torrent of stellar energy John had forced into its core, the device hadn't gone to its embedded path… it had simply torn open a ragged rift and dumped them blindly into an unfamiliar forest under an overcast sky.
The moment their feet touched the earth, John collapsed.
"Argh—AH!"
He slammed into the dirt, writhing as the severe recoil of forcing his physique tore through his body.
His muscles violently spasmed. His skin flushed a dangerous, feverish red as residual shockwaves of stellar energy battered his internal organs, turning every breath into an agonizing struggle.
He clawed at the damp soil, gasping frantically for air, but no matter how deeply he inhaled, the burn in his lungs only intensified.
It hurts… I… I can't breathe.
The Princess, shaking off her initial disorientation, snapped out of her stupor. Seeing him thrashing violently in the dirt, she rushed to his side.
"Hold still!" she demanded, her voice laced with sudden urgency.
Manifesting a glowing vial of dark glass in her palm, she popped the stopper and pressed the cold rim directly against his bloodied lips.
"Drink!"
John swallowed the bitter, metallic liquid on reflex.
Almost instantly, a cool, numbing sensation washed down his throat and flooded his chest, dulling the agony ripping through his nervous system.
The violent spasms slowed to a shiver, allowing him to push himself up on shaking elbows and actually allowing him to think properly.
He gazed at his surroundings and was met with endless, dark-barked trees stretching out in every direction.
He had absolutely no idea where they were. To make matters worse, he couldn't tell if the artifact's tracking function still worked or if it had also malfunctioned.
Desperate for answers, john turned towards his trusty egotistical friend.
Echo? Echo, are you there?
A faint, heavily distorted voice answered his mental call. It was so weak it felt like a flickering candle flame on the verge of being snuffed out in a hurricane.
[...Minion...]
Echo! What happened?! Where are we?
[I will be gone for… a while… need to... wait for me… Stay strong… until then… John.]
Wait—what do you mean gone?! Echo, hold on!
He didn't receive any answer. The sudden, total silence in his head left John paralyzed. With his body hurting and his mind already stretched thin, he couldn't process the sudden isolation.
The sharp spike of panic that had seized him instantly morphed into a hot, uncontrollable surge of pure irritation.
His unstable physique fed greedily on the sudden spike of anger, causing a blinding, throbbing headache to bloom violently behind his temples.
"Hey. Calm down," the Princess warned, noticing the dark, chaotic energy beginning to leak from his frame as he stared blankly into the distance.
"Your breathing is erratic again."
John's head snapped toward her; his pupils dangerously dilated as a wave of irrational rage bubbled up his throat.
"Don't tell me to—"
He bit his tongue so hard the taste of blood flooded his mouth. He forcibly crushed the words down.
Get a grip, he screamed at himself internally, slamming a mental wall against the surging fury.
Get a damn grip!
He closed his eyes and took three deep, shuddering breaths until the burning irritation receded to a manageable simmer.
"I'm... sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse as he glanced up at the crimson hue of the setting sun.
"We should... find shelter. Night is coming. We need a place to rest."
She eyed him cautiously, clearly sensing something was wrong, but offered a short nod. They scouted the immediate perimeter together, eventually locating a small, dry cave embedded in the side of a rocky ridge.
As darkness swallowed the forest outside, a small campfire crackled near the cave entrance, casting long, dancing shadows against the damp stone walls.
John sat near the flames, staring blankly into the fire while digging the heels of his palms into his temples.
The headache was relentlessly pounding against his skull… to the point he wanted to slam his head against the stone wall and end it all.
Beside him, the Princess sat with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Her regal composure was partially restored, but her crimson eyes remained fixed on him.
John felt her intense gaze boring into his side.
"What is it?"
"What was that back there?" she asked quietly, unable to hold her curiosity any longer. "In the compound."
John didn't look up from the flames. "What do you mean?"
"Before I came here, I did some... research on you. They said you were a pathetic piece of garbage. A cruel monster who only knows how to make others miserable and hides behind his mother," she said, her tone utterly blunt.
John stared at her, temporarily speechless. He didn't sense an ounce of malice in her words—just… curiosity. But damn, she didn't pull her punches.
"You have no filter, do you?"
"I was just being honest," she replied, narrowing her eyes.
John let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Well... you aren't entirely wrong."
The Princess waited for him to elaborate, but when he fell silent, she pressed further.
"You blew up an entire compound packed with Stage 4 experts. That doesn't align with anything I heard."
John rubbed the back of his neck and leaned his head back against the cold cave wall. "It's complicated. You see... I have a physique."
The Princess's eyes widened in complete disbelief. "ARE YOU SERIOUS? Wait, you are lying. No—you're definitely lying. Wait... you're actually telling the truth? Oh my god, do you even know what that means—"
John stared at her as she began rambling frantically to herself, her composure slipping entirely until she caught herself and cleared her throat with an embarrassed cough.
"Uhm... continue. I was just very surprised. Shocked, even."
"You really have no filter," John repeated, a small smile slipping onto his face.
"Shut up... just continue."
"As I was saying," John grunted, his smile fading. "I have a physique, but my body can't handle the load. No mortal body can."
He paused, looking down at his trembling hands. "Eventually, it's going to consume my mind entirely. I'll go completely insane. And then I'll explode."
He looked at her, his eyes hollow. "Most of the crazy, violent things I've done... I did because I couldn't control the impulse. Though... that doesn't mean I'm blameless."
The Princess stared at him, the cold distance in her red eyes softening a little.
"That... is cruel," she said softly.
"To possess something most would kill for, only for it to be the very thing that destroys your life."
"Yeah. Well, it is what it is," John said, deliberately shifting the mood before the atmosphere grew too heavy.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Enough about my doom and gloom. What about you? What's the life of a princess of the Darkmire Kingdom like?"
She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden pivot. "My life? It is not really special. Nothing grand about it. It is the same as any other princess."
"Never thought I would hear a literal princess say her life is not special… Do you ever do anything just because you want to?" John asked, tilting his head. "Like... a hobby? Something for fun?"
She thought for a moment, then shook her head flatly. "Not particularly. Every hour of my day is spent training, studying, or preparing to be worthy of the Darkmire name."
"That's depressing, really. You're a princess, and you don't even get to do what you want," John declared flatly. "Can't be having that. It needs to change."
"We are trapped in an unknown wilderness," she pointed out, raising a single eyebrow.
"All the more reason," John insisted, pulling his cloak tightly around his shoulders as he leaned back. "I need a distraction anyway. This headache is killing me."
***
By morning, the overcast sky had cleared, but their situation hadn't improved. They spent hours trekking through the dense woodland, looking for roads or any sign of civilization but to no avail.
To make matters worse, their stomachs were loudly reminding them that they hadn't eaten in over a day.
"Fine," the Princess huffed, stopping in a clearing. She snapped her fingers, and a dark, spatial tear opened beside her.
Out stepped a clattering, pale skeleton. "Search the perimeter for water and any source of food," she commanded it coldly.
The construct clattered off into the brush. After a while, they eventually broke through the tree line to find a beautiful, crystal-clear river rushing over smooth river stones.
"Finally," John groaned. He walked down to the bank, cupping the cold water in his hands to splash his face, trying to clear the lingering haze in his brain.
"We can catch some fish here."
The Princess walked up beside him near the slippery edge, looking down at the water with disgust.
"And how do you propose we catch them without tools?"
"Like this—woah!"
John's foot caught on a mossy, waterlogged stone. He flailed his arms to hold his balance, only to slam right into the Princess.
SPLASH!
Both of them tumbled off the bank and hit the freezing water.
John surfaced immediately, shaking the water out of his hair and coughing. "Crap, sorry—"
"How dare you!"
The Princess rose from the shallows like an enraged sea spirit, her clothes soaked through, her fine hair plastered to her face. Her crimson eyes flared with absolute fury.
Before John could explain, she channeled a wave of Ether and raised a massive arc of frigid river water straight into his face, knocking him backward.
"Hey!" John yelled, wiping his eyes as he stood up.
"I said it was an accident!"
"You pushed me into a mud pit!" she snapped.
"You… If that is how you wanna play, bring it on!" John retaliated, scooping a massive handful of water and blasting it directly at her face.
The water hit her square, drenching her further. The Princess froze. The silence that followed made john shiver more than the cold water.
"Oh, that is how it's going to be?" she whispered dangerously.
Dark, volatile Ether erupted from her frame. The river beneath them rumbled violently as she raised a massive five-foot wall of water with her magic, directing the entire churning wave over John's head.
"Wait, wait, hold on—!"
BOOM!
The entire river section exploded upward, sweeping John under a churning torrent that washed him fifty yards downriver before slamming him onto a gravel bar, gasping and drowning.
***
An hour later, a campfire was crackling violently on the dry riverbank.
Two improvised wooden racks stood near the flames, holding their drenched outer coats to dry. John sat on a log, shivering, and aggressively gutting three fresh fish he had managed to spear with a sharpened stick.
Beside him, the Princess sat gracefully, roasting her own fish on a twig, looking thoroughly satisfied with herself.
"You almost drowned me!" John growled, glaring at her sideways. "You're completely crazy!"
"You threw water at a royal," she replied calmly, taking a delicate bite of her fish.
"You deserved every drop."
"I am also a royal, and it was an accident!" John muttered, rolling his eyes. "You Psychopath..."
"What was that?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave.
"Nothing! The fish is delicious!" John said quickly, shoving a piece of grilled meat into his mouth.
As he ate, John noticed that the skeleton she had summoned earlier was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey," John started, wiping his mouth. "Where'd your bone buddy go?"
"I dissummoned it," she said flatly. "It served its purpose."
"So... necromancy," John said, leaning in with genuine interest.
"How does that work anyway?"
The Princess sighed gently, setting her fish down. "Necromancy is a heavily vilified art. Most cultures consider it an abomination because it tramples upon the domain of Thanatos, the God of Death. Forcing souls into servitude creates corrupted, unstable constructs."
"Then why do you do it?" John asked.
"My bloodline carries a rare divine blessing," she explained, a hint of pride in her voice.
"We do not enslave souls. We form a direct pact with Death. To raise an undead, we sever a tiny, infinitesimal fraction of our own soul and anchor it to the construct. The undead becomes an extension of our own will, entirely loyal, without corrupting the natural cycle."
John froze, his fish halfway to his mouth.
A fraction of the soul...
A sudden, wild light flashed in John's eyes.
My physique is constantly overflowing, destroying my mind because my body can't contain the excess stellar energy. But what if I learned necromancy?
What if I could summon an undead construct, bind it to myself, and use it as an external battery to channel and divide my chaotic energy?!
It was insane. It was mechanically absurd. But theoretically... it might work.
John turned to her, his face dead serious. "Teach me necromancy."
The Princess stopped eating. She turned her head, looking at him as if he had just suggested they jump into a volcano.
"No."
"Come on, just the basics!" John pressed, stepping closer. "I'm serious!"
"Are you insane?" she said bluntly, staring at him like he was a complete idiot.
"First of all, it takes years of spiritual training. Second, and most importantly, you do not possess a Death affinity. It is fundamentally impossible for you."
"I don't need to master the divine part!" John insisted, dropping to his knees beside her log, putting his hands together in mock desperation.
"I just need to understand how it works! How the soul-anchor divides energy! Please, just explain the theoretical part!"
"No. Absolutely not."
"Princess. Please. I am begging you. I will catch all your fish. I'll carry your bags. I'll be your personal bodyguard!"
"Stop pestering me."
"Just one lesson!!!"
"I said no!"
All through the evening, as the fire burned down to glowing embers, John's relentless pestering echoed through the quiet forest.
He followed her every step. When she tried to gather firewood, he was there. When she sat down to rest, he was there. He was everywhere she was.
By midnight, the Princess was on a bed of dry leaves, staring at the night sky. Dark circles had appeared under her eyes while John sat three feet away, poking a stick into the dirt.
"... and that is my idea. If you teach me how it works, I might be able-"
The Princess finally snapped.
In one swift, fluid motion, she sat up and delivered a rock-solid, ether-infused punch straight into the middle of John's face.
CRACK!
John flopped backward onto the floor, holding his bleeding nose with a groaning laugh.
"Ow! What was that for, you crazy woman?!"
"If I accept," she hissed, her voice trembling with pure exhaustion and frustration, "will you shut your mouth and let me sleep?!"
John wiped the blood from his lip, grinning like a madman through the pain. "Deal."