Volume 1, Chapter 25: Frogflower is in Full Bloom (Patreon)

We stood several dozen paces from a bridge spanning the raging river, built from stone, rock, and steel. The bridge had clearly seen better days. It was riddled with so many holes that, despite being wide enough—as the soldiers told us—for wagons to cross, it could no longer serve that purpose.

Built as an arched span supported by columns set directly into the water, it was battered again and again by the violent current of the river. On the other side of that structure was what we had been looking for. I had absolutely no doubt about it.

[Secondary Task’s first objective fulfilled: Locate Frogflower. Secondary Task’s second objective: Find what’s mine under Frogflower.]

[Event Achievement Points earned: 1. Total Points Earned: 4. Source: “You managed not to get lost on a straight road while being led by experienced soldiers.”]

“We’re fucking here, finally.” Milo struck his bat against the stone, presumably after understanding the same thing my Daimon had also explained to me. “What the fuck does ‘what’s mine’ mean? Mine whose?”

“Under Frogflower?” Plasario asked, turning toward us. “The temple has been abandoned for years. Whatever lies beneath it is no concern of ours.” His eyes shifted toward the orcs occupying the structure. “Though I suppose the green bastards may know otherwise.” As he answered, the master of the soldiers tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword resting in the sheath at his belt. Then he turned back and looked, as we all did, at Frogflower rising beyond the bridge.

The name immediately made sense, as it indeed could be a temple, with two towers now occupied by figures moving along their tops—presumably orcs. It also had a main central structure with enormous doors of decorated steel, partly ajar, with one entire leaf torn free and lying in front of the entrance, partially against a boulder.

But the whole building stood in the shadow of a skeleton that must have belonged to the largest frog that had ever existed.

The bones of its lower jaw stretched across the front of the temple’s main wall, while the upper part rested on two of the four towers, so that the great arch passed partly above them, veiling them beneath lush climbing vegetation that covered most of the bone. Vines, ferns, grasses, and bizarre oversized leaves competed with one another for space across the skeleton, to the point that none of its natural white remained visible anywhere. The entire thing was almost completely green and brown, bristling with countless flowers.

The limbs of the skeleton lay as though, just before death, the frog had tried to embrace the entire structure, driving its fingers into the front wall and crushing it. The finger bones had clearly punched into the corners of the building, shattering the walls there, from which flowering shrubs and trees now grew.

The rear portion of the frog’s skeleton, meanwhile, pressed entirely against the back of the building and looked like a vegetation-covered hill that had somehow grown legs and decided to climb onto the temple.

“Heqet’s body.” Khufu’Ri’s ears flattened. His tail, usually restless, went completely still. Even the rise and fall of his huge chest seemed to stop. Then he knelt. “The goddess of fertility died in this world.”

“That!?” Milo pointed toward the temple. “That’s your goddess?” He spat on the ground, then reached for another cigarette, lit it, and stuck it between his lips. Taking a drag, he looked from Khufu to the skeleton and back again. “Nah, listen, I tried. I fuckin’ imagined it, but even with a smoke, I still wouldn’t fuck that. Just can’t get it erect for that shit. But if you’re looking for a new god, just know my sperm is doing fucking fantastic,” he added, laughing at his own cruelty.

One claw slid silently from his index finger and buried itself in the dirt. His jaw tightened enough to expose the edge of a fang. He said nothing.

“Would you kindly keep your vulgarity to yourself?” Sophie stepped in to defend the lion. Her shoulders drew back until her already perfect posture became almost unnaturally straight.

“Or what, doll? What the fuck are you going to do about it, bitch? Want me to demonstrate what I was just talking about?”

The knight standing closest to him clenched his teeth and shoved Milo hard enough that the cigarette fell from his mouth.

“You will not threaten a woman with rape in my presence.”

“Simeanon,” Plasario addressed his soldier. “He is a bitter, petty man.”

“You mean me, asshole?”

“Master Milo.” The soldiers’ master stepped forward and positioned himself between Milo and Sophie, who stood with one hand resting on Khufu’Ri’s shoulder. “I gave my word that I would bring you to Frogflower in gratitude for the help you provided earlier. Despite the hand you raised against me in an act that clearly intended my death, I have kept that word.” Keeping his left hand on the hilt of the sword at his belt, he pointed with his right toward the bridge and the temple beyond it. “Here we are. The road is open. You may go first.”

“What the fuck? You expect me to go in there alone?”

“Master Milo, you yourself said that you and I were enough to take the temple back from the orcs. The finesse, speed, and strength with which you dealt with the Croakrock we’d just faced, have given me much to think about over the last forty minutes, and I am inclined to agree that I underestimated your power.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit. So we’re going together?”

“It is so great,” Plasario continued, “that you need neither my help nor anyone else’s.”

“What? You think you’re so fucking clever? You’ll send me to my death and be rid of me?”

“Yes. That is exactly my intention. I am offering you an honorable death in the place I swore to bring you, or a duel with me. We may fight hand-to-hand or with weapons. The choice is yours, but understand that there are no other options. Try to run, and you will die by my sword. Try to harm anyone under my protection, and my blade will reach you before you can raise your hand.”

“So either I fucking fight you one-on-one, or I fight all of them?” Milo asked just as Khufu’Ri finally rose from his knees.

Plasario, still resting one hand on his sword hilt, merely nodded, confirming the baseball-bat-wielding man’s words.

“Fuck off. I will let you live.” Milo slung his bat across his back, shouldered past the soldiers blocking his path, and headed for the temple without looking back.

“Um… why did he choose to fight the orcs? I don’t really know much about violence and fighting, but, well… I think he’d have better odds against one man than an entire army of orcs. Right?” Bri whispered.

I didn’t know what to tell her, because I agreed with her reasoning.

“You didn't see the ambush we walked into at the beginning.” Nicky watched him leave before continuing. “Milo helped. I can’t say he didn’t. He came down on the orcs like a bolt from the blue, but when he was already exhausted from fighting and panting behind the wall of soldiers, Plasario was still dancing—because there’s no better word for it—between the orcs, cutting them down so perfectly that not even a drop of blood landed on him. With a sword in his hand, that man is a silent whirlwind. I’ve never seen anything like it. I understand Milo, because if I had to choose between dueling him and fighting a dragon or an army of orcs, I know which one I’d pick.”

“Look at you,” I smiled at her. “Aren’t you a real hypewoman?”

“I was serious.”

“She was.” Eli kept his eyes on the swordsman.

“Master Plasario,” Khufu’Ri spoke in his booming voice. “I look ahead now with eyes no longer clouded by grief, and on one side I see a man walking alone to face enemies who vastly outnumber him, while on the other I see people openly allowing it to happen, guided by your decision. However noble the reasons behind it may be, I cannot live in harmony with the result. My heart hungers for justice and knows the hardships of battle. The price of that struggle is carved into my bones, yet mercy still flows through my blood.” His ears rotated toward the temple, and his tail stopped moving entirely. “I am going after him.”

With that, he struck his closed fist into his open palm.

“You heard him, soldiers.” Plasario approached the lion and, placing one hand against his chest, nodded. “Wisdom flowed from the words of this… man. We are going to fight the orcs. Remember one thing, however!” he shouted at the end, once the unit had already formed up to move out. “We fight for and protect one another. We protect everyone except the man who just left us. None of you will risk your neck or your life for him. Even though he will be fighting on our side, he fights alone. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master!” the soldiers shouted as one, striking their weapons against their shields.

“The same applies to that hellfire.” Plasario pointed toward Bri. “You do not fight for it. You do not protect it. You leave this evil spirit to fend for itself.”

“Yes, Master!” they shouted, leaving me stunned.

Bri went so still that her flames stopped dancing, and the light around us dimmed.

A moment later, the entire eight-man unit set off at a light march across the ruined bridge toward Frogflower.

“We’re still seven,” Mara said as we started moving after them. “That isn’t going to change because he doesn’t like her.” She pointed toward Plasario with her chin, then toward Bri. “If she’s with us, she counts.”

Bri’s flames brightened.

“Fucking bigot,” I muttered under my breath. “Pretends to be righteous and honorable, but he’s nothing more than a racist through and through.”

“That is how people can be,” Sophie said. “My family knows that rather well. We descend from people who were enslaved. Even generations after emancipation and everything my family accomplished afterward, there are still people who consider us lesser because of where we began.”

“Slavery still exists on your Earth?” I asked.

“Of course. Does it not on yours?”

“Not in most of it. In the United States, not for a long time.”

“The United States? I’m afraid that name means nothing to me.”

“Where are you from, Sophie?”

“New Amsterdam. The Dutch Empire.”

I laughed when I heard her answer.

“I’m from the same place, just a different history. New York. In my world, the English took it from the Dutch and changed the name. Long story.”

“Somehow I didn’t pick up on that either,” Nicky said. Despite her weight, she had no trouble keeping pace with us. “I thought Sophie was from my world too, but apparently I’m closer to you, Arthur. I’m from Chicago.”

“Quito here,” Mara added.

“That one I know,” Nicky commented.

“Capital district of Gran Colombia.”

“That part I don’t,” I answered.

She looked at me strangely. “You don’t have Gran Colombia?”

“Not anymore.”

“We do,” Sophie said. “Perhaps you’re from my Earth.”

“Vancouver,” Eli said from behind us.

“Canada?”

“What the hell is Canada?” Eli asked, casting his rope toward a column on the opposite side of the chasm. It wrapped around the stone, allowing him to swing across with Mara, whom he had grabbed by the arm.

“Never mind. Apparently geography is going to be much more entertaining than I expected.” I laughed.

“Whatever histories separated our worlds before, none of them matter here. We are all Earthborn, and every one of us is fighting for every version of it,” Sophie said, stopping before a larger gap and carefully jumping across, where Khufu’Ri caught her.

“For now,” I muttered under my breath. “The rules can always change.”

“What did you say?” Nicky shouted, stopping for a moment to catch her breath.

“Nothing!” I called back, breaking into a run before launching myself over another gap. I drove my improvised staff between the stones as I landed on the roadway and rolled forward to bleed off the force of the impact.

A moment later, I was back on my feet. I caught the staff just as it began to fall and continued running toward the vegetation-covered temple.

Even from a distance, the first sounds of battle were already reaching us—the shouts of humans and orcs, and the impacts of Milo’s baseball bat, striking with enough force to produce something like thunder.

Not long after that, arrows loosed from bows began arcing toward us as well, flying in high trajectories from the temple towers.