David Lingard: Author
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Chapter 72 - Freedom
🕑 Added 2024-04-26 16:00:06 +0000 UTCAs soon as the alarm bells had begun ringing, Henderson remembered what his master and mentor, the nest guardian, had told him: when the time comes for the Contestant to leave the Arena, he would know. The shaking of the very foundations of the City and the following alarm bells were something that Henderson very much knew was his signal to leave, but he didn’t really know where he was supposed to actually go.
He watched as people all around him clambered to retrieve their arms and armour from the anywhere boxes, and he watched as Instructors and Contestants shouted at each other to hurry up or to get out of the way. And then he watched as people filtered out of the Arena and out into the City to see what they could do to help.
Henderson knew that he wasn't out of the Arena or the City yet, though; he needed to play his part until he could make his escape when nobody would see what had happened. If he did this right, then he would be presumed lost or dead, and nobody would actually come looking for him – least of all his father. Fitting in wasn’t going to be hard though; Henderson was a Blue-Ranked Contestant, and that meant he was to head south.
Staying as far away from the rest of the group as he could, he knew that all he really had to do was travel south until the Blue-Rankers had thinned out enough for him to slip by, and then he would find his way out of one of the gates. But as the fates would have it, Henderson found that after a short while heading south, he found himself behind three people who he never really expected to ever be that close to again.
The large Defender boy: Jordan, who Henderson felt was a bit of a simpleton, though he could actually swing an axe as far as he could see. The girl who he found arrogant, trying to act like she was above her station but had been working to become a Rogue, and when he’d seen her fight, she’d been quick and quite deadly with her dagger. And then there was Titus himself. The boy that could do no wrong. He had something going on that Henderson didn’t fully comprehend, but he simply knew that deep down, he and this boy were destined to be mortal enemies.
It was of course no surprise that Henderson had been punished because he had taught this boy a lesson. A lesson that he wouldn’t mind repeating simply to make sure his point had been made. But for now, Henderson was simply staying out of the way. The little group didn’t need to know that he was following them as much as he didn’t need to teach his lessons right now; he was sure that in time the opportunity would arise, and it would be a lesson not easily forgotten.
He had just been about to slip away down a side alley, not paying too much attention to the three Contestants when a group of guards had shot by telling everyone to head to the North Gate. He had been pretty happy about that because it meant that the South Gate would’ve been lightly guarded, though stopped when a fourth individual – the Purple-Ranked Darius the Dreaded had revealed himself from some active camouflage and the now group of four had started heading north to help with whatever was going on.
The dilemma for Henderson was now to slip away through the South Gate and try to make his own way to wherever he was supposed to go or head North, and see if this signal was actually something he was supposed to be involved in.
Henderson finally decided that heading north to see what all the fuss was about wasn’t actually going to preclude him from heading south later if he so chose to, and if there was something big happening to the north, then it could very well be something he didn’t want to miss. Perhaps there was a dragon attacking the gate or something. The explosion and rumbling he’d heard definitely suggested that something like that was probably happening.
For the most part, Henderson remained in the shadows as he travelled back through the City to the North Gate. It wasn’t that he needed to remain hidden; rather, he simply didn’t want to have to ‘group up’ with any of the others. He’d never worked well with others, and the one time he’d roped in a couple of helpers he’d just been punished for his actions.
Eventually, through the chaos and destruction, Henderson reached the North Gate and passed through as what was most probably one of the last Contestants to do so. The City had been in utter chaos, though when he looked at the fires and the citizens running back and forth, he felt a strange calmness within himself, like somehow this was the way things were meant to be.
When he went through the gates to see what was happening beyond the wall though, that was when things got really interesting. The forest that lay beyond the walls on the far side of the clearing wasn’t something that Henderson had seen in person before, though his brothers had told him stories about it. They were likely just the stories told to a younger brother to scare him at night or to keep him from wandering off, though as Henderson watched what his brothers had called the ‘forest of monsters’, he saw that they had almost certainly been correct. Because the forest must’ve been teeming with monsters. More monsters than Henderson could’ve ever imagined.
Henderson moved along the wall until he stood behind the other Blue-Rankers and watched firstly as the small beetle-like creatures caused a small amount of havoc, and then as the Ironjaw Behemoths entered the battle. It was at this point he realised that no matter what the citizens, the Contestants or even the Instructors did, the sheer size and power of the force that had arrived was simply too great for them to handle. Chaos was just too powerful. And that made him smile.
This was a force that he was almost positive was there simply to give him his signal that it was time to leave and to take his rightful place within the dragon’s nest. And then Henderson saw Titus, Jordan and Petra again. It was like they kept popping up in his life like annoying secondary characters. Characters who wanted to be the main event but were truly mistaken due to the fact that they had nothing extraordinary about them.
He watched as the small group fought, fought and fought again, but he didn’t make his presence obvious and he didn’t engage in any battles. No creatures of Chaos, no goblins or hobgoblins made to fight Henderson and he knew that they all felt the innate connection that he shared with them. It was only when he saw that one of the Ironjaw Behemoths was having trouble fighting the powerful collection of Ferran Torres and his team did he decide that it was time to leave this place. Leave and never look back.
Henderson scanned the area for something appropriate to use, and eventually landed on a nearby hobgoblin. He didn’t want to look too far afield or have to use a creature of too high a level because it could result in too much attention. Instead, this level ten hob was part of the greater low-levelled force facing off against the Blue-Rankers, and he smiled.
Henderson closed his eyes and entered into the plane of existence that he had become so accustomed to. He looked out across the battlefield and marvelled at the sheer amount of stone statues that represented the creatures of Chaos. The rest of the world was still and quiet. On this plane, he could not see any of the humans; they weren’t a part of his gift or ability. But that didn’t matter.
Henderson floated his consciousness over to the stone shell of the hobgoblin he’d already identified as his target and slowly appraised the creature. It was basic, weak perhaps in comparison to what he’d been used to seeing, but it wasn’t about strength just yet. He knew there would be time to deal with all of that later, once he managed to escape from this place without recourse.
Taking control of the level ten hob was like nothing to Henderson now. His ability to detect a chink in the armour had grown, and he had sensed the opening within seconds of coming into contact with the thing. It was a warrior, determined, strong, ferocious. It held a jagged sword and its eyes shone with a deep red bloodthirstiness that the other creatures of Chaos shared too, but to Henderson, it was nothing more than a vessel, a means to an end.
Henderson slipped his consciousness through the beast’s crusty exterior and took over the hob almost absent any effort. And then something flashed before his very eyes. He had almost forgotten that when taking control of a beast of Chaos that he would experience some visions, though this time they seemed so much more relevant to him than he had been expecting.
It was like he was travelling back along the path the hobgoblin had travelled, and that made him feel like it could very well have been an indication of what exactly he was supposed to do next. Henderson watched as the hobgoblin, as though in double speed, reversed across the battlefield, through the dense forest beyond – stopping a few times to rest along with his kin, through an arid, barren wasteland and then finally across a heavy wooden drawbridge where he saw the huge forms of three giant ogres who were manning the mechanism to raise and lower the bridge.
And then he was inside the castle. Having grown up in a lavish mansion filled with servants and staff, a castle was a bit of a shock to Henderson at first glance. It was dark and cold but then a moment later it was gone, and the last thing he saw before his vision changed to that of the hobgoblin who he had inhabited, was an ornate, wooden chair. A throne.
The hobgoblin’s lips contorted into a devious grin as Henderson finally knew what his destiny was: he was a king, a ruler, and all he wanted was to sit on that throne.
Then in a situation that made him feel rather strange, Henderson moved to his own body, unconscious on the ground as he controlled the hobgoblin, and picked himself up. It would no good to head back to the castle in this body only for his physical self to be left behind.
To his surprise though, a few moments later when he was heading back towards the forest, a handful of hobs had joined him to help carry the real Henderson, and before long they’d disappeared into the forest, Henderson hoping to never have to see the City walls again. Well, unless he returned as a conqueror, he assumed.
Once they’d traversed the landscape and arrived back at the castle, Henderson left the body of the hob and returned to himself. He’d taken the time along the journey to explain to the other creatures who he was, about the nest guardian and his plans to reach the castle and it was like the things just believed him. They could even talk in stunted sentences which was more than Henderson had been expecting and had even left him to his own devices within the castle. It was almost like they knew something he didn’t.
Henderson left the hob and it scurried off with the rest of them. He didn’t want to waste any time in taking his new seat so he sat down on the wooden throne and made himself comfortable. He would eventually have to go in search of food and water - presumably the monsters had a way of dealing with that – but for now, all he wanted to do was claim his place as the rightful lord of this castle and king of wherever it was that he was.
But then a while passed and that got boring, so he entered back into the spectral plane and found a group of hobs that were just leaving the castle. They clearly knew where they were going, so he took control of one of them and remained close to the rest, without making a scene.
Henderson was one of five level six hobs. They were weak and slow in general, but something was causing them to head back outside. He’d thought they were on a hunting or foraging mission or something, but now he could see that they were riled up somehow, ready for a fight.
They ran up the edge of the crater and eventually they breached the ground level to come face to face with none other than Jordan, Petra and Titus - again. The Rogue disappeared as soon as Henderson saw her and he felt a blade sink into his side. He had been poisoned by the Rogue – not that he cared all that much, but then that Titus boy had thrown five fireballs at Henderson and his hob friends, ending their lives immediately.
Henderson was thrown from the creature and reawakened in his throne, dazed and checking to see if he’d been hurt – which thankfully he hadn’t. “Those bastards,” he grumbled. “They couldn’t just leave me be, could they? Well, maybe I should teach them a lesson about manners.”
He was talking to himself, which actually made Henderson think he could very possibly have been going mad, but he shook that notion away a second later when he heard – and felt – the wooden drawbridge drop again.
And then he smiled.
This was going to be fun.
