Nothing came to me, no memories to help get us out, just a feeling of helplessness as I dangled in the air. I struggled but was held by the invisible chains the elf had cast on us. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to escape, but there was nothing. Only the crushing weight of the cast magic. 

We were in Canada, which wasn’t as bad as I thought at first. Thanks to John’s jedi mind tricks we crossed the border easily enough. We had been there for a couple of days trying to find the elves. John had contacts in the area of course, but after traversing all over the country I noticed that there were way more trees than I imagined. Obviously the perfect place for elves. 

Much like the Necropolis, the secret elfen city was well hidden. A vast forest with one very large tree at the center, the few elves remaining lived inside of it like Keebler Elves. But they were more like the bad guys from Die Hard than Keeblers. Each of them had long hair, very muscular, and though I couldn’t hear it, every time they talked I thought they had a German accent. 

The king of the remaining elves was a gray haired man with a physique to rival Legolas. Wearing bright shining armor he had tall ears that were at least a foot long. They went straight up, no drooping despite their size or his age. He was like a powerhouse I hadn’t run into before. Enough Haki to light a forest fire he was someone I didn’t want to mess with, but of course we had to. 

“I fought King Arthur himself for the Grail,” Myrddin gloated. John, Raven, and I were hanging upside down in his throne room, our sneak attack thwarted. Six other guardian elves behind their king, they sported bows and curved swords. Each one stoic as they stared at us blankly. Unfeeling or caring what we were going through. 

“Why would I possibly tell you the Grail’s location?” Myrddin asked. 

I couldn’t speak, my mouth covered with some magical film, Raven was wiggling as she tried to break out next to me. Whatever John had done to seal her powers had done its job. Her tentacle porn attack was nowhere to be seen. Myrddin slowly waved his hand and John was able to talk. 

“I know all this,” Constantine said, almost bored. I could tell he was worried, but putting on a strong face. “I am sorry for the…misunderstanding earlier.” John had pulled a jade dagger from his cloak and tried to stab the last King of the Elves. All Myrddin had to do was wave his hand to tie us up though. “I am simply on a quest and must-”

“Quest?” Myrddin asked, his Haki slowly moving to intrigue. I rolled my eyes. Already sick of quests, but that was apparently what eon old bad guys got off on. 

“Yes, I need the grail to save someone,” he said. “A sip, and it is back to you.”

“Who is calling for the grail?” Myrddin asked. 

“Someone far more powerful than you. Who they are? I cannot say,” he said. I squinted my eyes, fairly sure he meant himself. I guessed in the right conditions Constantine could be more powerful than the elf, but he sure held us by our nuts currently. 

“Azazel?” Myrddin asked.

“Again, the details of the quest are my own,” he said. “Besides, killing me would only piss off those you fear. Many others would demand the honor.”

“I spit on their name,” Myrddin said, spitting at John, but I could tell that had worked slightly. He waved his hand and John was released from the magical bindings. John fell right on his back, coughing as he caught his breath. The cough turned full bodied rather quickly, but Myrddin didn’t seem to notice as he retreated closer to his guards and began to pace. 

By the time John had finished his coughing fit and stealthily wiped the blood from his mouth, Myrddin had come to a decision. “Fine,” he said. “I do not have the grail.” 

“Fuck,” John cursed. 

“But I do know where it is,” he said. “Maybe someone of your…talents and contacts will be able to retrieve it…for a price.”

“What do you want?” John asked, his voice relaying how annoyed and tired we all were. 

“The Grail itself,” he said, tapping his chin. “Yes, you finish your quest, and give it to me.”

“I…think that can be arranged,” John said carefully. 

“It will be done, but I will need collateral,” the old elf said, eyeing Raven and I.

“I need them to help me retrieve the Grail,” John said quickly. 

“No, you don’t. It is hidden in the veil of death. You know as well as I that few can pass the threshold,” Myrddin said.

“Fuuuuck,” John said. His fear spiking more than a little. I was curious if they meant hell, but they continued. “Where exactly is the Grail?” 

“I will give you the location when I have my collateral,” he said with a smile. He turned to look at his throne. “But what can compare to the grail?” He asked. Pacing once more, he eventually stopped as if coming across the perfect solution. “Of course, the Fleece.”

“The Fleece?” John asked.

“The Golden Fleece, made by Zeus himself,” Myrddin said excitedly, as if he perhaps wanted that more than the grail. 

“That’s real?” John blurted but shook his head, resigned. “Of course it is.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. “Where the hell is the Golden Fleece then?” 

“On Paradise itself. With the Amazons,” Myrddin said as if it were common knowledge. 

“Ah shit,” John said. “I’m not exactly welcome there.”

“No man is,” Myrddin said. “But if you want the location of the Grail, you will need to get me the Fleece.” He stuck up a finger. “Before the full moon mind you.”

“Why before the moon?” John asked. 

“The contents of my own quest are my own,” Myrddin mimicked. “Are you going to do it or not?” 

John began to take long drags from his cigarette. He too was thinking hard. I could feel his Haki switch from anger to rage to tired fury as he thought it over and over. Eventually he mumbled, “Where the fuck is Paradise Island exactly?” With that, I received another quest. 

—

“How is this going to help?” I asked, my eyebrow raised as I stared up at John. We were in another hotel room, this one in Niagara Falls. The tree elf kingdom not too far away I was glad I got to go to the honeymoon capital of the world at least once. Raven sitting next to me, she was as excited and worried as I was. 

“How could flying not help?” John asked. So close to him I could almost smell how tired he was. Like a filled ashtray, its contents about to spill over. He looked rather rough. Bags under his eyes, he radiated a weariness that was unfamiliar to me. Though I usually only slept a few hours a night, John was often kept up by long bouts of coughing. He was exhausted, and our trek through the woods hadn’t helped matters. 

“Both of you have the capability,” he said, pointing at Raven and me with each hand. “And right now I really don’t want to try to charter a plane willing to fly to an invisible island.”

‘But you’re rich,” I said. 

“And I plan to stay that way by not accidentally crashing a plane,” he said. “Despite its name, Paradise Island isn’t exactly paradise.”

“Big surprise,” I said.

“Right? I was there a few years ago, trying to help their queen contact the land of the dead. We didn’t part on the best of terms though,” he said.

“Wait, so Amazonians are real?” Raven asked, raising her hand.

“Yes, but they don’t live in the Amazon. I know that much at least,” John said. “But we can talk about that later. Either way, both of you have a skill we need right now. Raven, your magic is powerful, and the seal I put on you is leaking more than a little.” Her fear spiked immensely, showing how scared she actually was of her power. “That leakage is enough for you to begin casting spells. Enough for you to at least learn to use your magic. This would actually help the seal last longer.”

“Oh,” she said, her frown turning into a slight smile.

“And me?” I asked expectantly. A slight smile on my lips. 

“And your convict buddies said you can fly,” John said. “We need that now, so lets figure out how you can do that.” Without another word dropped two metal emblems in his hand. They resembled dreamcatchers. “This might hurt, but…not me at least.” He said and shot his hands forward grabbing our heads at the temples. I didn’t have time to block him as it all turned white. 

—

I was Throgg. My name that of the sound of two logs being hit together. A deep and strong name I had come up with and called myself. Others didn’t know to call me the name, but I knew. That was all that mattered. 

Deep grunts echoed around me. A warning as the prey came into our trap. It was a monstrous beast. At least the height of the massive trees overhead. It had many more legs than I, and was covered in hair. It was called a Humpf, which was a silly name. Maybe because of the fact that most people said that name when they were frustrated. Throgg didn’t know, but in the end it didn’t matter. The Humpf had killed many, and would kill many more. 

The ground shook as it approached us. The leaves of the trees far overhead shaking with the booming step of the monster. The other men around me began to shake. Not with fear, no, they had all long lost their fear. This was pure unbridled excitement. Throgg and his brethren yearned for this. Taking down the great beasts of their land. The mighty horde of monsters that littered the wilds around them. Each of them trying to fight and eat everything in their way in hopes of fighting those bigger and stronger than them. 

It was what drove all of them. Though they had a small village high in the mountains, the real challenge was here, in the wilds, where they were put up against all the nasties of the land. The beasts that destroyed other villages too weak to survive, the living and breathing meat sacks that allowed each of them to push themselves further. To go beyond their own limits. To…truly live. 

Throgg took in a deep breath through his nose. The rhythmic steps of the fur covered beast drawing ever closer. Like the lullaby of drums that he often went to sleep to, slow and methodical as the moment of facing the strong approached. 

“Raahhh!” One of the young roared. Far too excited, he was a boy barely old enough to have hair on his pecker. Yet, he was old enough to risk his life and all those around him. Far too eager and dumb to reach the peak of a true hunt. 

Though it was so tall, the monster bellowed a roar. A trumpetting noise blasting from its long snout it reared up off the front pair of legs. When it landed, an earthquake hit the men. Trees began to topple around them, their trunks split by tusks protruding from the legs of the beast. 

“Bleh!” One of the strongest said. Pointing with his spear the others enacted the plan. All the while the trees still fell. When they hit, another earthquake struck the group. One man screamed, his body crushed as one of the tree bases bounced and hit him. That man was not Throgg though. He was lucky, as he had always been. Lucky and strong. 

His legs bunched together and he leapt forward. Clearing the height of the tree in a single bound he and others were sailing through the air, landing on the back of the beast. It’s eyes widened at the sight of them. Long scars along its eyes showing it had been attacked by Throgg's kind before. It remembered and with another trumpet of a roar it shook its head. 

Tusks cut through the air like the talons of the great birds of the sky. One set sliced off the canopy of a tree, the other sliced right through Ulln, one of Throgg’s friends. A man that had fought by his side far more than he could count, so at least two times. 

“Blah!” Throgg roared, his heavy club in hand. As thick as his chest he waved it around easily and struck the face of the beast. The monster’s spikes for tusks began to multiply to protect it, but the others were whacking and stabbing at it. Staying in the air as long as possible, using the momentum of their blows to keep them floating just a little longer. 

“Bu-bu-bu!” He yelled with each smash of his club. The beast bellowed and he felt it. Just a little hesitation in his body, unwilling to drop down and stop this act. Fighting was what he lived for, and his body yearned to keep going. It ached to keep him there, smashing and breaking everything in his path. 

“Aooog! Aooog!” Someone yelled from behind him. The signal ruined the moment of hesitation of his body. The blissful ignorance of gravity so that he may stay in the air. It was there and gone, quicker than his thoughts. Throgg was brought back to the present. Fighting was important, but winning was far more needed at this time. He had a wife and child to feed at home, and if he failed to provide, his wife would be the one fighting this beast. That was the last thing Throgg wanted. 

“Aoog!” He yelled with the others, taking up the call. They all began to fall to the treetops. One man had his arm severed off, but he ignored it. This was all for that moment of victory. Any pain was worth it and most any loss would be risen up to the highest for their blessing. 

Throgg landed on a thick branch and jumped. Leaping from tree to tree with ease he was reminded of the moment his body refused to fall. A mere instant that it all tried to click in place. He had heard stories of men flying through the air since he was a child. Mere bedtime stories of gods and demons, but a part of him had hoped they were true. But he had not met any. Even during their fights with other tribes, none flew, none was released from the bindings of the land nor the debt that had to be paid. 

“Jhuum,” Throgg’s friend said. He didn’t know the word, but it sounded like a challenge. As if Throgg hadn’t given his all. His anger flaring Throgg raised his club and swung it at the man. He released a wicked smile, batting away the club with a wave, making Throgg grow angrier. Stopping in his tracks he was about to go at the man but was stopped when another call was let out from ahead. 

The challenger stuck out his tongue and jumped on. Throgg looked back, the beast was running at them, knocking down trees in rage as it stampeded toward him. Pushing his anger away he continued jumping, each leap taking him far away. Approaching the cliff Throgg noticed the others that had survived were there. This was the first hunt of the season after the long winter. 

The weak and dumb would be purged from us, every hunt after this would whittle their numbers down until the next winter. Leaving our tribe with the strongest to protect us during the great cold. The time of sleeping often weeding out those others that were weak mentally, pushing them to stay at the tribe and no longer hunt. Eventually one of us would be known as the greatest hunter, the leader chosen only then, and the great age of his people would commence. 

“Bleh borr,” the pseudo leader said. He was the son of the last strongest. But that man became frail and unable to hunt during the last hunt. His son was a good replacement until he was proven. The others nodded and the beast burst through the trees behind us. 

Gripping clubs, spears, and rocks, we faced it. The trunks flailing this way and that, tusks threatening us, our necks straining to see the entirety of the beast. As it drew closer we stood strong. None of us willing to dodge too quickly. 

The game had been there for as long as Throgg could remember. It was a test of will. Who could stand the fear the longest? A monster far bigger and stronger than you coming for you, death behind you, which of his people would break first? 

Throgg closed his eyes. Feeling the moment in all of its glory. His heart pounding he could feel it was his turn to win. Many others that had withstood this moment were dead. He was the most fearless, the most ready, the most…the first person jumped out of the way. The youngest of them who had alerted the beast of their presence. Then a female jumped, and another male. One by one they left, some staying until the beast was paces away. 

Then at last it was Throgg and another man. The one that had claimed Throgg had not given his all. The other gave him a mocking smile. Throgg mirrored it and the beast ran for them. It was so close now that each stomp of its hoof caused the rocks at their feet to quake. Throgg was tempted to run, he had never stayed so long before, but the other stayed so he did. 

“Buoof,” the other said. Waving his hand, telling him to run. Throgg shook his head, almost able to taste the fear of the other. The man frowned and offered again. Throgg merely crossed his arms in front of himself. The other man sneered and jumped back. Clearing himself to safety in a single bound. 

Throgg turned to the beast. It had finally seen the edge of the cliff, but it was too late. It was far too big, and going too fast. It’s snouts screeched in fear as it tried to catch itself, causing it to trip right in front of him. Throgg closed his eyes and waited a single moment. Feeling that ever elusive goal come toward him. That blissful moment where the laws of physics he didn’t know existed, were bent around him. 

He felt the weightlessness, that and the air moving as the beast toppled all around him, up and over him down the cliff behind him. The moment paused, allowing him to revel in it, then it was gone. Opening his eyes he knew he was lucky. The monster’s limbs had dodged him if only by a little, but they had missed. This was his time. He would become chief. An act of fearlessness that would lead him to-

Throgg was pushed off the cliff. He fell through the air unable to scream. He had reached the moment of fearlessness, and it was passing. Turning his body he saw the man that had pushed him. He was not surprised at the others anger. Perhaps he wanted to become chief, to have songs written of him, and maybe another wife. Throgg had let his guard down, proving that he was weak, all he wanted right then was to die in shame. But for some reason he lived on. 

The cliff floor far below him. He had an inspiration of clarity. This was the time most people only saw once. The ground below, coming up to meet them. Death imminent like for the beast just below him. Rather than yelling and flailing like the beast, Throgg waited. Thinking, perhaps harder than ever, and as he did, something awoke inside of him. A great power that he always knew was there, but one he had never tapped into. 

As he felt it come alive, his body began to slow. The wind roared less and less, and as the monster collided with the ground, Throgg stopped. His body going only where he willed it. Because he did not expect to die here, he didn’t, in fact. He flew up. He went up and up, ready to end the man that had tried to end him. It was his people’s way, as it had been and always would be. For he was a Viltrumite, born by the gods to rule this world. Forged in fire and bloodshed to be the strongest of the strong. Rulers of all. Masterless, and without equal in all that was known. 

Dasart

next release is when it gets really funny in my eyes. Sorry I can’t release more because I’m planning a bigger release in a couple of weeks.