It's that time of year again. :)

Written by the Victors

The warrior and the rest of the elite force stood guard outside of a trading depot, keeping safe the Arkeyan citizens working there. Several attempted attacks had been made here, as bandits and other thieves attempted to steal the resources here. The resource game was a difficult one- one that the Arkeyans had the upper hand in, thankfully enough. It was hard for robots such as themselves to survive on their own.

The thief was spotted miles away, and the warrior was quick on his feet. He hurried up to the thief, blade pulled out in a show of force. The thief, a malnourished vampire, staggered back, hands up in defeat. The warrior didn't back down, though. The vampire thief had hunger in his eyes, a lack of blood starting to take his toll. Depending on the circumstances, he might lash out at anything that moved, whether or not they had the sustenance he needed.

"No vampire is a match against my blade," the warrior spat. "Turn back or face the consequences."

The vampire thief sifted through a bag at his side, pulling out a few sparse gems. The gems were dull, barely worth anything on the market. But the fact that he was trying to pay, that meant he still held some of his sanity.

"I need to feed," the vampire groaned. "I don't want to lose myself. You have the resources. Help me feed."

"Those rocks won't pay for anything," the warrior insisted. "And our workers are far too valuable."

"Don't you cycle out various workers once they lose their usefulness? Find me one of those."

"We haven't cycled out yet."

"But some of them are getting weaker, right?"

He had been noticing a few of the workers slacking up in their duties, a few passing out during construction. It wouldn't be much longer until they had to bring in new blood to replace the old.

"It's not in my place to say," the warrior explained.

The vampire brought his wrists together. "Arrest me, then," he begged him.

Begging for arrest. It was strange for anyone to do that. But the warrior gave in, tying the vampire's hands behind his back. The force parted for them, allowing them to head into the depot. They walked past stands of valuables, keeping away from the robots walking about. The warrior came across an Arkeyan official, walking around with his Mabu servant and pet Warsupial. The vampire began growling, leaping out of the warrior's grasp. The binding broke away, and the vampire attacked the small gray rodent, scaring away the servant.

"What is the meaning of this?" the official spat.

The warrior stabbed his blade into the red dirt, kneeling before it. "Forgive me, sir. This vampire wished for an audience with officials here," he muttered.

"Did he now?"

They looked at the vampire, fangs dripping in blood. His sunken features seemed to fill up a bit now that he'd gotten a taste. The Warsupial was still squirming about, refusing to let the vampire best it as it snarled in contempt.

"Normally I'd allow you to finish off a domesticated Warsupial," the official told the vampire. "Though they're hard to tame, they're really a dime a dozen. However, this pet of mine is the breeder in the market here. Do be careful with him."

The vampire whimpered, releasing his grasp on the rodent. "Look at me, reduced to feeding off of vermin," he pouted.

The official picked up the Warsupial as it begged to climb on top of him. He set the gray rodent on his head, flinching as it hissed at the vampire. "What was it that you came here for?" he asked.

"I meant to feed on the workers who could no longer work," the vampire explained. "It seemed a waste to toss them out. To me, at least."

"Do you still have contacts with your vampire clans."

"I haven't for a while, but I could bring them up again if I had to."

"You very well might. We'll let you feed on some of the workers. But in return, you have to head back to your clans, and let them know we wish to have ties with them."

"What could we give you?"

The official pointed at the warrior. "This warrior and the rest of his flock were experiments in Undead magic- experiments that brought out the most welcome results. But we ran out of the well used to make them. What I'm thinking is that the Arkeyan Empire will trade workers with your clans, and in return, your clans shall trade us Undead magic."

The vampire staggered to his feet. "I'll see what I can do," he muttered.

"My servant will lead you to the barracks. You can stay here for a few days until you're ready to travel back to the Underworld."

The servant meekly walked up, leading the vampire away. The official walked up to the warrior, who had kept his form this entire time.

"Rise," the official said. "You are not in trouble. In fact, I think I might commend you."

The warrior stood up on wobbly legs- he hadn't realized how scared he'd been.

"Your forces' talents are wasted here," the official explained. "You need to be fighting more than simple bandits. And I think I have an idea of what you can do."

"And what might that be?" the warrior asked.

"My messengers have sent word about a resistance in the mines a few islands away. This will slow down progress, and mess up the order we're trying to achieve. I want your forces to snuff them out."

The warrior put his blade away. "My sword is ready, sir," he promised him.


The sound of a book slamming on a table roused the warrior from sleep. He bolted upright, finding himself at a library. Dusty old books lined the shelves, holding ancient tales of valor or woe.

That was right. The Arkeyan Empire was no more, wiped out ten thousand years ago. All that remained were the ruins excavated by scholars.

The warrior had heard that such a scholar was going to speak on them today. He hadn't slept through it, had he?

His attention drew itself to the source of the sound. Two Mabu had bumped into on another, the cause of the dropped book. One of the Mabu was a female, decked in yellow, appearing a bit more cat-like than most of her kind. The other was much shorter, mole-like with large glasses and a green coat. The warrior recognized him from the flier he'd read for this event- that was the speaker, Hugo.

"Oh dear me! I'm so sorry for that!" Hugo gasped, gathering the book. "It was cold this morning, and the library's heat fogged up my glasses, and-"

"It's fine, okay?" the female Mabu insisted. "It was an accident. Let's just leave it at that."

The warrior found himself confused. Was that really the same person on the flier? But he was so meek and tiny. He didn't look like he could stand the wait of an audience from up on that podium.

The green-clad Mabu left to the stand to get ready. The warrior called the female Mabu over, asking, "I haven't missed the seminar, have I?"

The female Mabu came over to the table he was sitting at, pulling up a seat. "It's actually just starting," she said.

The warrior nodded.

"You were made by the Arkeyans, right? I recognize your form from some of the temples I explored. They have statues in the main corridors depicting guys like you."

"Indeed I was."

"So this is like attending your own funeral, huh?"

"More like attending my own wake. The caskets are long gone."

The female Mabu held her hand out. "Cali," she greeted him.

The warrior tentatively took her hand. Even after all this time, he wasn't used to Mabu acting so friendly around him. They used to be angry, or scared, since the Arkeyans had been in authority. The warrior had become a bit more diminutive in this Mabu-run society. "I have no name to speak of," he said.

"Well that's no good. Perhaps I'll have to name you, then."

What a strange culture it was, indeed.

Hugo came up to the podium, taking several stepladders to get to the top just so his face could be seen. "Good morning," he began. "My name is Hugo, and I am here today to describe some history on the Arkeyan Empire."

He was speaking with more confidence than he had been before. The warrior almost thought it was commendable. Of course, there were only about two other people in this section of the library sitting down and listening. People were coming through, browsing through the book selection and not really paying attention at all. The warrior found this situation very amusing.

"Many millenia ago, the Arkeyan Empire had expanded across most of Skylands, striking fear into the hearts of many opposing forces. They held most of the world's resources, using them to strengthen their armies. These resources ranged from things like minerals and labor, using people to expand their ever-growing empire."

The warrior thought he might fall asleep again. So far, this Mabu was simply reiterating facts that everyone knew at this point.

But Hugo continued, thankfully adding more meat to his message. "Recently, an Arkeyan Temple was uncovered near the Elven Woods, causing quite a stir in the populous there. Various relics were unearthed there, including, and perhaps more frightening than anything else, torture devices."

Torture devices as frightening things? They were a necessity to preserve the Empire- not that it did any good. The warrior felt insulted by this, and he got up and left.

The warrior made his way outside, taking in the chilly morning. His bones felt empty and hollow, and a feeling of loneliness set in. They'd been telling stories of how awful the Arkeyans were for centuries. When the Empire was a recent casualty, when it was but a memory, to this point when they were mere echoes, each tale recounted them as awful monsters. No one looked at the warrior like that, but they seemed to scorn his empire's legacy in his presence. It did nothing but weigh down on his soul.

He suddenly heard a commotion in the village, just a little ways from the library. The warrior hurried to find the source, weapon drawn. He made his way to the center of town, finding an elderly man cornered by three Drow thugs. The Drow were walking toward him menacingly, weapons dragged out.

The elderly man patted down his blue robe, grimacing at the Drow. "Honestly, I have nothing of value for you," he insisted. "Nothing at all."

"What about those pretty jewels on your hands?" one of the Drow scoffed.

"These are mere trinkets. A friend of mine got them for me from the dollar store, honest."

"Cough up what you've got. Now."

The warrior ran on the offensive, dragging his blade out. He slashed at the arm of the biggest brute, taking the heat off of the elderly man and onto himself. The warrior stabbed the sword into the ground, summoning brambles that knocked the Drow onto their feet. One Drow ran after him, too fast for him to dodge, so he brought up his shield to block the attack. The Drow tried tu surround him, to overwhelm him in the next attack.

"You're going to regret going after us," the Drow growled. "Prepare to die!"

A blast of energy shot the three of them, freeing the warrior from the circle. It had come from the elderly man, who staggered to the ground in exhaustion. The Drow, though weakened, did not relent. The warrior slashed at them, summoning an aura around the sword to assist him. This sapped more of their energy, making them unable to charge. The Drow then ceased their attack, fleeing from the both of them. The warrior hurried over to the elderly man's side, helping him to his feet.

"...I'm not the wizard I used to be," the elderly man sighed. "Thank you for coming to your aid."

"Do you have anyone who might be worried for you?" the warrior asked. "Who'd like to know that you're okay?"

The elderly man steadied himself, regaining his composure. "Yes, but I don't think we should let them know of this incident. It was a bit foolish of me to walk around as I am. I've seen those thugs before. They only wore the masks of bandits in order to keep up appearances."

"You think they were after you?"

"I know they were."

"Do you have a safe place to go? A secure home to return to?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you go back, then? If felons are going after you, it can't be safe for you to roam out here."

"I don't want to hide myself away like some old fossil. And I'm not going to let these people scare me into hiding."

The warrior nodded, and he turned away to leave the man be. He didn't get far, pausing to look back at him. Why should he leave right away? It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. And he couldn't just let that man get attacked again.

So the warrior came back, asking him, "What brings you out here, anyway?"

The man looked at him, a bit surprised to see him return. "A friend of mine got lost here," he explained. "He asked me for time off so he could explore the Arkeyan ruins around here. I got a message from him a day ago, asking me to pick him up. He must've run into trouble."

"The Drow, perhaps."

"I was trying to locate the position of the message in order to find him when those Drow attacked him."

"I can help you look for him. Or at least protect you from danger."

"I don't really have anything to give you."

"That doesn't matter to me."

The man held his hand out for him, like the Mabu had done earlier. "I'm glad for your assistance, then," he smiled. "My name is Eon. What may I call you?"

"Whatever you like," the warrior shrugged. "I have no name."

"That doesn't seem good."

"Names aren't important to me. Any I might have, at least. Lead our path, alright? We're probably wasting time as it is."

The man nodded, and they set off on their way.


Eon led them into the jungle nearby, staying on the path carved out for them. The warrior disliked the thick plants here, finding that even the smallest vines got stuck on his equipment. Ravenous creatures seemed to lurk among the trees, snarling at them, though refusing to come any closer to the warrior. A sense of foreboding hung in the air, and the warrior found himself concerned with Eon's friend.

"I was sure it was this way," Eon muttered. "The signal seems a bit weak here."

"Interference, perhaps," the warrior shrugged. "With all of the trees in the area, I'm not surprised. Should we turn back?"

Eon shook his head. "I believe he might be around here. This is where the ruins are, right?"

"I don't know the exact location."

They trudged onward nonetheless, keeping their eyes peeled.

The path became more cluttered with plants and fallen leaves, and a sound came forth from the foliage. It sounded like drills, and it sounded like they were chipping away at the plants. Trolls, maybe? Or something worse? The warrior stepped in front of Eon, pulling his sword out. Whatever was out there, he would face it.

Something came out of the trees, posing very little threat to them. It was an Arkeyan driller-bot- the warrior hadn't seen one of those in a long time. His red-and-gold colors seemed a bit dull from years of weathering the elements. His metal seemed a bit dented as well- the warrior noticed this on himself, noting their longevity. The driller-bot seemed a bit meek, though he spun his driller hands around in glee.

"Drill Sergeant! Thank goodness!" Eon cheered, hopping over to him. "The message you sent me seemed a bit hurried."

The warrior laughed. Drill Sergeant!? That was the name they gave this ancient relic?! How unfortunate!

"Ba da da. Sorry Master Eon. It must have slipped my drills," Drill Sergeant stated matter-of-factly. His tone reminded the warrior of a lost age, when driller-robots came off the assembly all the time, each sharing this monotone speech.

Eon knelt down to look at him, his brow furrowed in concern. "You sounded scared on the message," he reminded him. "I'm not mad. Tell me what happened."

The driller-bot backed up, his eyes casting away from him. " Ra da da. It was a slip-up. An accident," he insisted, his monotone voice replaced with one of desperation. "You can return home if you wish."

"What's wrong? You seem upset."

"It's alright. Just a mistake. Ra ba ba."

With that, Drill Sergeant disappeared into the trees, nearly vanishing altogether. Eon stayed put, worry overcoming him.

"You're not going after him?" the warrior asked.

"Forcing him to talk won't make anything better," Eon explained. "But something definitely happened. I'd like to know what it was."

"It came from the ruins here, perhaps. We can find our answers there."

Eon nodded. "Perhaps," he muttered, appearing a bit pale. "We should go."

"You seem a bit ill. Maybe you should stay behind."

Eon got up shakily. "No, I'm okay. I can make it there."

They moved on together, though the warrior was a bit reluctant. That odd sickly look on Eon had come on suddenly, seemingly brought on by Drill Sergeant's departure. What kind of force did something like that?


They arrived at a decrepit Arkeyan temple in the middle of an overgrown patch of land. Vines covered the exterior, so much so that it became nearly impossible to see the yellow-beige stone underneath. Flowers were dotted around here, some entering the wide mouth of the temple. Four lines of tread tracks cut through the soft ground, two for each trip Drill Sergeant made out here. No indicators of the Arkeyans could be found, and the warrior hardly recognized this place without them.

Someone else was out here as well. A female Mabu clad in yellow- Cali. She sat by a fallen pillar, sketching something on a scroll as various items lay scattered around her. The warrior walked over to her, stopping just before the clutter pile began.

"Cali, it's nice to see you here," the warrior greeted her.

"Same to you, Mr. Bones," Cali replied. "You disappeared on me earlier. You okay?"

The warrior nearly cringed at the name, but the way she said it made it seem like more of a joke. "I'm good. Did you see a driller-bot come through here, by any chance?" he asked.

"Not clearly. I hid here when I heard the sounds of the drills come by. The way you said it, does that mean it's not...part of this temple?"

"Did you think he was?"

"I've seen similar models around various other ruins, acting as if they still had duties to perform. Of course it makes sense...if that driller-bot didn't immediately go hunting for me. What's up?"

Eon walked forward, his teeth gritted as if he were experiencing pain. "That driller-bot is one of my own," he told her. "Something happened- is happening- to him in there. How well have you navigated those ruins?"

Cali stood up, grinning. "I've gotten to the very heart a few months back," she insisted. "It's not so hard the second time around. I can help you out."

"Oh fantastic!" Eon gasped. "Now why don't we-"

The warrior stopped him. "I'll meet you in there, Cali," he said.

Cali nodded, looking a bit uncomfortable, and went into the ruins.

"With all due respect, I think you should stay out here," the warrior explained. "Should be safe enough. I just...Drill Sergeant might be too afraid to talk to you. He might be more receptive to Cali and me."

Eon was about to protest, but then he backed off. "Maybe. These bonds...sometimes I get delirious with worry," he sighed. "Keep him safe, alright?"

The warrior nodded.

"And you don't have to worry about me, either. I'm not dying, if that's what you're afraid of."

The warrior nodded again, a bit embarrassed at the comment, and he made his way into the temple.


Cali had made some distance ahead of the warrior, but it didn't take long for him to catch up to her. They walked along a wide corridor, the walls lined up with statues of various other warrior models. Broken worker robots were strewn about on the ground, appearing to be asleep. The warrior didn't enjoy climbing into these ruins. The hollow void in his soul ached worse every time he did.

"I'm thinking your friend might be looking for the power chamber. It seems to be a habit of various worker units to return there after a certain period of time," Cali decided. "From what I've studied, at least. You might have a better idea, though."

"Honestly, I can't say," the warrior shrugged. "Driller-bots didn't have emotions like this one seems to have. They were always drilling, always making new tunnels for the mines and the temples. They were set on working, and they didn't express the wish to want anything more, even claiming to be content with the work. The only time I saw them act in anything emotional was when they saw a figure of power they particularly liked, flocking to them in some sort of excitement. This unit did the same, at least I'm sure."

"Did they usually depart?"

"No. They'd stick around until they were commanded to get back to work. Which is why I find it odd that this one left on his own accord."

Cali touched her chin in thought. "Let's check the power chamber anyway," she decided. "Doesn't hurt to look, you know."

They continued onward, heading down a corridor on the right that led them down another level of the temple. The discarded robot parts seemed to become more and more sparse as they went along. They were eventually led to a space with two doorways, each on the opposite side of the corridor. Cali suggested that they split up, taking the room on the left. The warrior conceded, taking the room on the right, nearly pausing at what he found.

It was a room, completely box-like in design. Archaic weapons were lined on the walls, old and rusted. Claps were set on the back wall, wires attached to them, though the device for the wires had long since vanished. Perhaps these were the torture devices that Hugo described. The warrior had only seen them as a myth until now.

Maybe there was more to writing history than just being a victor. Maybe the Mabu knew what they were talking about.

The warrior fell to his knees, the void in his soul growing larger.


He'd had his doubts, though it wasn't in his place to even acknowledge any of them.

The warrior and his forces had gone on many missions to dispel resistance efforts. Attempt and attempt failed at each mine they went to. After a few months, attempts had slowed down altogether. The workers needed to see how necessary Arkeyan control was. The only other option for these ungrateful servants was a life scrounging for scraps.

One fateful day, they were sent out to quell resistance at the construction site of an Arkeyan temple. The Mabu workers fought with makeshift knives and spears, charging at them. The warrior and his forces had very little difficulty at first. The workers were poorly trained, and they cut down any resistance with ease, waiting until they started backing off.

Of course, there were the Giants residing at the site helping them out.

The charge seemed to be led by an elven genie, a flame golem at her side. Around them, the Mabu had greater vigor, and were more capable of taking them down. The Giants, of course, took out the most warriors, with the combined power of both fire and magic. They were forced to retreat, the victory going to the workers. The warrior had stayed back for a moment, and only just, to let their failure register to him.

Resistance sprung up more frequently after that, as well as their losses. It wasn't just elves and flame golems attacking them, but giant eyeballs and stone golems and mutated trees. Larger automatons were being manufactured to accompany them, which offered a little bit of success, albeit pyrrhic in nature. Giants started being hunted down, whether or not they were challenging the Arkeyans.

The warrior had a great dysphoria thrust upon him. Friends and brothers were dying left and right, and he was unable to do anything about it. Their losses didn't even amount to anything most of the time. It was all a string of fighting and dismantling, one that held no escape.

It made him think that, as hard as these Giants were fighting, perhaps there was something they were fighting for. Something that his superiors weren't letting on.

But ultimately, it wasn't in his place to think about, let alone say. The fighting would get easier if he kept these thoughts out.


"Hey friend, I think I found- whoa," Cali muttered.

The warrior turned his head to look at her. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting in this room full of hatred and death. Cali might have searched through every room by herself. The warrior didn't know what to say, or even if he could say anything.

Cali walked up, kneeling beside him. "You weren't aware of this, were you?" she asked.

"My superiors described a resource problem in the world," the warrior muttered. "That their rule would make things easier. That's not the case, is it?"

"Not according to history, unfortunately. While there are always resource problems- that, in itself, is the thing about nature- there wasn't a problem big enough at the time. There were forests and reservoirs, and other important marks for life to thrive. A problem only emerged when the Arkeyans started taking everything out of greed. That's when we started having problems."

"I searched for superiors for a long time. Anyone to give me some sort of direction. I halted in my quest about five thousand years ago. I was worried what they might have me do once I found them. It appears my worries weren't unwarranted."

"You didn't want to hurt any innocent people."

"Despite becoming the higher species, you Mabu were still so fragile. I kept safe any I came across."

"Those hypothetical superiors might not have liked you very much, then."

He wasn't sure they had ever liked him at all. But Cali's words made him feel a bit less lonely.

"I think I found our driller-bot. He's hiding in a treasure vault. Want me to take you there, or do you need another minute?"

The warrior stood up. "I'm good. Let's go," he decided.

They walked out of the room, heading back down the corridor. The space opened up, with more doors being placed here, and they found themselves at a very large door with a firm but weak metal on it. These fortifications were meant to keep people from breaking in, but the door was already open. Beeping and whirring were heard on the other side. The warrior went in, coming upon an empty room with only a few urns left behind. A hole had been carved in the wall, where Drill Sergeant had put himself.

"Stay here for a moment, okay?" the warrior asked Cali.

"Alright. I'll be here if you need me," Cali replied.

The warrior walked forward, about next to the hole. He sat down beside it, silently waiting for a moment. The driller-bot came out a tiny bit, looking at him, before crawling back in.

"You were with Eon. Ba ba da," Drill Sergeant noted.

"He's pretty worried about you," the warrior said. "I don't recall your kind fleeing from people you liked."

"Ra ba ba. Things are different."

"You seemed desperate to get close to him before."

"Old programming likely still intact. Ba da da."

"But you still ran away."

The driller-bot let out a few morose beeps. "I can want things now," he insisted. "I want to be by myself. I want Eon to forget."

"Forget what?" the warrior asked. "Forget about you?"

Drill Sergeant was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Yes."

"What for?"

"It was a mistake. Ba da da. I shouldn't be his friend. He deserves better. They all do."

"Was it the torture room that made you think of this?"

"I was in hibernation for a while. I wanted to see what had become of my Empire. I didn't think I wouldn't like it. Ra ba ba."

The warrior set his arms around his knees. "It's a bit unnerving, yes," he agreed. "You probably feel like a monster yourself. You realize what they did. You realize that you were a part of it."

"Ba da da."

"I'd like to say my experience here was worse. I remember attacking those slaves. I remember taking those order no matter what. I have no excuse for that. But I know that you did nothing wrong. You just exist with the Empire's bad connotation, and you feel like you deserve punishment."

No comment.

"But you don't deserve punishment, though. You did nothing wrong. You probably never even saw a slave camp. You can't take the blame for what they did. You have no reason to. Eon doesn't seem to think so, either."

Drill Sergeant crept out of the hole a tiny bit. "Maybe you have it worse. You have to live with what you did."

"I certainly do."

"But they might've tortured you if you didn't. So I really don't know."

"None of it really matters though, does it? They're all gone now. The bad connotation might still be there, but no one pictures us when they think of the Arkeyans. We are just machines that they had, and the superiors are the monsters that they see. We have no reason to hide."

Drill Sergeant came out, moving up to the warrior. He let out a few more beeps, appearing a bit calmer than before. The warrior looked up at Cali, who was sketching something on a piece of paper. Was she recording the two of them? If she was, then the nature of what she was writing was certainly interesting.


The warrior led Eon and Drill Sergeant to a train station, making sure that more Drow didn't attack them. Eon was looking much better, no longer sickly. He seemed to improve when Drill Sergeant's mood did. These "bond" things were certainly strange, but the warrior liked the idea of togetherness. He was at least glad that the driller-bot didn't have to be alone.

"Thank you so much for your help," Eon told him.

"It was my pleasure," the warrior replied. "I was glad to help."

"You know, Cali and I were talking before we came here. I know you didn't ask for anything in return, and that this sort of thing didn't matter to you, but I came up with a name for you."

"Oh?" the warrior grimaced, thinking of the less-than-stellar name for the driller-bot.

"How does 'Chop Chop' sound?"

The warrior shrank back, his arms nearly flailing in shock. "Chop Chop!?"

"We noted how strongly connected you were with your blade."

"I don't even chop things. I slice at them."

"The same motions are used, I'm sure. I'm not exactly the best chef, so I can't exactly say."

Drill Sergeant twirled his drills in glee. "It fits him for sure! Ra ba ba ba!" he chirped.

Chop Chop, eh? Well, he guessed that he had to go by something. "I'll take it," he decided.

"You're not just settling, are you?" Eon asked.

"I told you, it doesn't matter to me."

"If you're okay with it, then I'm glad."

Drill Sergeant let out a few beeps. "Train approaching!" he shouted.

The warrior, Chop Chop now, crossed his arms in thought. "I guess that means you're leaving now," he thought. "I don't suppose I'll see you around."

"What kind of other business do you need to attend to?" Eon mused.

He seemed to be prying, sensing something more. Chop Chop technically didn't have any business to attend to- he never did, and just travelled around seeing what he could find. Even so, he had no reason to tag along with them. "Something that's another island over," he lied. "It needs my attention."

"I see. Well, I doubt that we won't see each other again."

The train screeched in, and Eon and Drill Sergeant filed on. Chop Chop stayed where he was, a flood of thoughts and emotions circling within each other. Eon was leaving, and there were still so many questions he had. How did he feel things with such power? What kind of magic did he possess? Chop Chop found himself running forward, stopping the doors just before they closed. Some of the patrons, Eon included, looked at him in shock.

"What is a bond like?" Chop Chop asked.

"You're curious about that?" Eon wondered.

"Yes, very much."

"Come fully on the train then."

Chop Chop did, walking down the aisle. He took a seat next to Eon, being careful not to kick Drill Sergeant. "Now describe it to me."

Eon stroked his beard, thoughts running in his head. "It's rather hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced one," he explained. "It's like...being able to feel what someone else feels, on a level deeper than empathy. You are closer to them, as if they were a part of you."

"Does it make the hollow void within you go away?"

"Yes. Sometimes it hurts when bonds are severed, though you realize it's better to have known them than not."

It sounded like something Chop Chop might deal with, if he were to ever experience that.

"Is it something you might want to experience?" Eon wondered.

The question caught Chop Chop off guard, and he shrunk into himself.

Drill Sergeant crept closer. "You could come with us. Ba da da," he suggested.

Would that be the worst thing? To come along with them? He had no reason to do so. Of course, these ideas in his head were far too strong.

"I think I'd like to," Chop Chop decided.

"Perhaps you're already starting to form one with us," Eon thought warmly. "I'm surprised to come home with more than one Arkeyan relic. It shouldn't be very long, then."

The train started of, heading to Chop Chop's new destination. He gazed out the window, settling in for the trip. For once, he felt the hollow void shrink a bit.