Chronicles of a Royal Pet- Heroes Collide Read online

  Chronicles of a Royal Pet

  Heroes Collide

  Ian Rodgers

  Text Copyright ©2019 Ian Rodgers

  All Rights Reserved

  Dedicated to my fans, followers, and family. Without them, I could never have achieved so much.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Greetings with a headbutt

  Chapter 2: Traveling towards the light

  Chapter 3: The light that helps

  Chapter 4: Shattered and scattered

  Chapter 5: First trip to the Hospice

  Chapter 6: The Third Chosen One!

  Chapter 7: Test of Silence

  Chapter 8: Halls of the Skyward Mountain

  Chapter 9: Into the earth

  Chapter 10: Forge of Heroes

  Chapter 11: Down again

  Chapter 12: An old friend

  Chapter 13: Forging a Legend

  Chapter 14: Back under the spotlight

  Chapter 15: Illuminating the way forward

  Chapter 16: From the light comes the darkness

  Chapter 17: Shooting Stars

  Chapter 1: Greetings with a headbutt

  We stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Me, a gooey orb made of purple slime with a golden core. Her, a half-orc with mint green skin wearing well-worn Healer’s robes. We’d both been recklessly shot out of a portal, and we’d both collided with each other. My body met her forehead in what professionals could only describe as ‘a headbutt, but with only one head involved.’ The pain from the impact was secondary, however. Looking at her, I felt a strange connection with the green-skinned woman. As if I knew her from somewhere…

  “Didn’t I see you in a dream before?” she suddenly asked, and I wobbled in surprise.

  “Maybe?” I hedged. Now that she mentioned it, she also felt familiar, as if I’d encountered her in a different place before this.

  “Oh, so then this is just a dream,” she mumbled with a smile growing on her face.

  I watched incredulously as the blonde-haired half-orc in dirty, mangled Healer’s robes fell back onto her large backpack-shaped Bag of Holding and was out like a light in seconds. Her snores soon rang through the air, and I was left to my own devices in this strange new realm.

  After realizing my fellow Chosen One wasn’t going to get up anytime soon, I decided to observe my surroundings. I’d only gotten a cursory glance of the area when I first shot through the portal the ancient entity Panacea had created for me. The rest of my arrival had been taken up by meeting the half-orc face to face (literally!).

  So far, I could confirm I was not in any of the Hells. There was simply too much Light mana in the air. I sighed lightly in pleasure as the lingering traces of Dark mana upon my body from my short trip through one of the Hells were burned away by pure positive energy.

  The surface I was on was bland. It was a vast floor of gold, purer than any amount I’d ever seen back on Erafore, and by stretching my senses out to the maximum, I could tell I was on a disc of some sort. Furthermore, there seemed to be grooves and raised ridges all across the golden surface, which after tracing them with my mind, turned out to be a profile of Nia herself!

  ‘Huh, is this just a giant coin floating through the Aether?’ I wondered. With my more human sense of sight I peered into the sky, and observed countless more golden discs high up in the air. I could see that all of them had designs upon their surfaces.

  ‘Golden discs and an endless field of white light chock full of Light Element magic? This must be Luminoth, the Elemental Plane of Light!’ I realized. Without the lessons from Arnolt Cantos, headmaster of the Royal Varian Mages Academy, I wouldn’t have been able to recognize the area so quickly. Since my dear companions Rosa and Tara, who usually fed me information about my whereabouts, weren’t with me due to undergoing training of their own, I had to rely on my own stores of facts.

  Thinking about the ruby Carbuncle and Spirit of Knowledge brought a pang of sorrow to my core, and I quivered in loneliness.

  “Gods, I miss them,’ I thought to myself sadly. ‘I hope they’re doing allright. And I hope their training goes better than mine!’

  Anger filled my being this time as my thoughts turned to my memories of survival training. ‘What kind of maniac shoves an innocent Ooze into a world where everything is a freaking carnivore? What kind of maniac shoves me into the Aether and tells me to find my way to the Six Heroes who are scattered across the Elemental Planes without a backup plan? Next time I see Joris Cowl I will definitely slap that man silly, X-rank or not!’

  As I huffed in annoyance over terrible teachers, I turned my attention back to the half-orc sleeping peacefully across from me. I took the chance to calm down by examining her once more.

  The girl looked to be eighteen years old, but I wasn’t entirely sure. I wasn’t familiar with the aging process of orcs. Despite wearing Healer’s robes, she carried a quiver full of crossbow bolts. No crossbow, though, oddly enough. Perhaps she’d dropped it somewhere? Plus, I could see that her arms and legs were well muscled, proof that she hadn’t lived an easy life like most other Healers. Maybe she was a wanderer who traversed the land, giving aid where it was needed?

  Her hair was the color of straw, and it was knotted and tangled and dirty, signs she’d been on the road for a while. Her white Healer robes were in a similar state of disrepair, small gashes littering it while the hems were stained black from countless days’ worth of travel.

  Her mint colored skin was what told me she was a half-orc. I hadn’t met many orcs, full blooded or otherwise, but I had read in a textbook back in my school days that the green hue of a true orc darkened with age, while a half-orc’s skin color never changed beyond what they were born with.

  The girl’s tusks were also tiny and weak-looking, not like the sharp specimens adult orcs were supposed to have. I wasn’t sure if she’d take offense to that if I mentioned it, though, so I decided to keep my questions to myself.

  Besides, it’s not like I was one to talk about ‘intimidating.’ I was a squishy blob of royal purple slime wrapped around a spherical golden core that was covered in runes. The only thing that would be terrified by my appearance would be a person with a fear of jam!

  Basically, I was not scary at all. But who cares about that? I was Jellik, a Royal Ooze and Chosen One of Nia! Her Herald, in fact! I could melt faces with acid or cast magic so powerful it’d make my opponents explode just by being near it!

  ‘I wonder how powerful this girl is?’ I mused. I had a lot of magical powers, and knew countless spells. But as mighty as I was, I was lacking in certain areas. Physical strength, for one. Divinely granted abilities for another. That was why I’d have two other partners in whatever quest I’d been chosen for. A Paladin and a Cleric.

  Which of the two other Chosen Ones was she? Based on the fact she wore the robes of a Healer, I guessed she was likely the Cleric of the set. That meant Healing magic and an assortment of Divine spells.

  As for the eventually Paladin of the group, they’d be physically strong and draw power from their faith. They’d know fewer spells than me or the Cleric, but the ones they did know would be purely combat oriented. Perfect for the Paladin, who served their patron deity through combat.

  The system of magic I used was known as Occult magic. It was drawn from the soul and the ambient mana around me in equal parts. The spells had to be learned, studied, and practiced to become more useful to the caster. Intellect, willpower, and refinement of raw power were its requirements. An Occult mage could cast spells as often as he liked, so long as he had the mana to fuel said spells.

  Divine magic, on the other tendril, was a source
of magic gifted to the faithful by the gods themselves. Enough prayer and devotion could result in a deity bestowing a blessing upon the worshipper, and spells that were granted in this manner were instantly able to be wielded, but were only capable of being cast a few times before they were used up. Thus, more prayers were required to earn new spells. All a supplicant needed was a strong, genuine belief and faith in the gods to be able to access this type of magic. Clerics and Paladins were the ones who used Divine spells the most.

  There were other differences as well. Where my Occult magic and spells were powerful against a wide variety of foes and problems, Divine magic had the benefit of being attuned to damage and battle specific foes, like devils, demons, elementals, and other Aetherial entities. I could cast a fireball at a demon, for example, but only Divine magic would be able to permanently harm it. I could banish an elemental or a devil back to their home Plane of existence, but a user of Divine magic could make that banishment stick for a longer time, and hurt on the way out.

  It was a sort of balancing act between the disciplines. My magic was useful against the mundane and the mortal. A Cleric was much better at handling threats from the Aether and other more mystical realms.

  And while I was here in the Aether, a Cleric would be of exceptional help to me!

  ‘Maybe I can finally make my way to the remaining four of the Six Heroes of Chaos I was originally supposed to meet,’ I mused hopefully.

  So far, I’d only managed to reach Dorsed the Weeping Flame on the Elemental Plane of Fire, and Danica the Laughing Tide in the Elemental Plane of Water. They’d both been helpful, giving me advice on how to survive in the Aether and refine my abilities.

  ‘All that’s left is Celbrem the Silent Storm, who’s based in the Elemental Plane of Wind,’ I thought to myself, ticking off the remaining mentors I needed to find on individual tendrils, ‘Grandor the Hollow Stone who should be in the Elemental Plane of Earth, Shyla the Innocent Light who lives here on the Elemental Plane of Light, and Barron the Noble Dark, hiding somewhere on the Elemental Plane of Darkness.’

  “Guess that means I might as well look for Miss Shyla while I’m here before I try and get back to the Elemental Plane of Wind,” I decided aloud. “Gods, I hope that Phillia is okay… I wish I could find a way to tell her I’m alive and well…”

  I heaved a lovestruck sigh as I thought of the beautiful woman made of blood I’d met when I’d accidentally tumbled into the Elemental Plane of Fire by accident. She’d helped me find my way around the Aether, but I’d lost sight of her during a bizarre astral scream that quaked the entire multiverse.

  As I thought of her smile and kindness, I stiffened my resolve. “No choice… I’ve just got to find a way back to her! That’s all there is to it!”

  As my proclamation rang through the Elemental Plane, I felt weariness crawl through my core. I’d been running, hiding, and fighting through Hell itself before I was sent here, and exhaustion was finally catching up to me and taking its toll.

  ‘You know, she has the right idea,’ I mused, glancing at the other Chosen One. After thinking it over, I rolled over to her side, moving past a patch of ash that was staining the otherwise pristine gold.

  ‘Hope she doesn’t mind being used as a pillow,’ I thought to myself as I snuggled up against her side. The comforting presence of another person –one who didn’t want to slay or abuse me, that is – was more relaxing than I’d expected, and soon I was unable to keep sleep from taking me over.

  ~(o)~

  “Owww…” a pained groan rang out through a realm filled with clouds and floating islands. Atop one of the smaller patches of earth and stone floating through the air a figure in imposing black full plate armor and a luxurious looking purple cape lay in a small crater. On his helmet, a golden circlet with three stylized upwards facing crescent moons glowed softly. Nearby, a silver halberd lay imbedded in the stone, having pierced the tiny island when it fell with its owner.

  “Son of a sword!” the armored man grunted, struggling to rise onto one knee. Briefly, golden runes flickered to life across the armor, and a surge of strength returned to the man. With a wordless cry he heaved himself back onto his feet.

  For a moment he wobbled, adjusting to the sensation of being vertical again. The man quickly regained his balance and cast his gaze around the area, the helmet hiding any and all facial expressions.

  “Where… am I?” he wondered, staring blankly at the wide-open sky littered with fluffy clouds and rocky, hovering isles.

  A tremor of pain rushed through the man and he doubled over, clutching his head. “ARGH! Who am I?!”

  “What’s going on? Why can’t I remember anything?!” he cried out, panic setting in. His cape rippled and thrashed about in response to his agitation, and the runes on his armor and the circlet on his head flickered and pulsed with golden light mirroring his panicked mental state.

  As he struggled and failed to recover his memories, silver energy began to leak out of his body, forming a cocoon-like protective shell around him. A soft, flowery scent began to suffuse the air as well, and tiny white lily flowers began to bloom at his feet. And then suddenly a bird flew into his face.

  Whether the creature had been distracted from its flight by the sudden appearance of the barrier, or the purity of the magic being emitted, a gasp of surprise from the man in the black armor halted the expansion of the egg-shaped barrier, and the pure, almost divine, energy vanished in a crackle of ozone and silver sparks, leaving behind only the flowers.

  “Getoffgetoffgetoff!” he shouted hysterically, fidgeting and clawing at his body as he tried to chase away the bird that was attempting to roost on him.

  “I-I might not remember who I am, but I do know one thing: I HATE BIRDS!” the amnesiac cried out to the heavens. He finally managed to snag the avian that had assaulted him by wrapping it up in his purple cloak.

  “Oh, neat, I can move this with my mind?” he wondered aloud as he stared at the purple cape obeying his thoughts. “No, wait, that’s not the issue here! What the issue is, is the damned bird!”

  With a swift mental command, the mystical purple garment – A Shapeless Raiment, a voice in the back of his head informed him – stretched open in front of him, revealing a bird no bigger than his fist.

  The avian creature was odd looking: First, it had seven wings, all set in a ring around its plump body. The uneven number alone should have resulted in it being a lopsided mess, unable to fly! Furthermore, each wing was a different color, giving it a rainbow-esque appearance. Yet try as he might, he could not tell which wing was which color, as the hues seemed to shift and change whenever he looked away.

  The second oddity was a lack of legs. This bird rested instead on two of its wings that were placed where legs normally would be.

  Besides its legless, multi-winged shape, the rest of the dove-like avian’s feathers were opalescent, with a golden beak and eyes. It tilted its head to one side as it looked up innocently at the nameless young man and chirped musically.

  “Go away!” he instructed it, shaking it out of his purple cape. The bird’s numerous wings buzzed rapidly like those of a hummingbird, keeping it aloft, and it zipped around the armored man’s head, leaving a rainbow afterimage in its wake.

  “NO! Shoo, I hate birds! Leave me alone!” he protested, waving his hands and his cape in an effort to drive it off. His attempts were futile, however!

  The bird chirped before darting over to the top of his helmet and perching atop it, as if his head was a nest. Beneath the visor, the man’s eyes twitched and he flailed angrily at the seven-winged dove, trying to dislodge it.

  “Get off of me! Go! SHOO! Begone! I don’t want your kind around here!” he growled, trying to grab it with his hands and pull it off of his head, but it was too fast. Every time he got close it just zipped to the side, wait a second, then land back down on the top of the helmet.

  It trilled a song at the young man, who snarled, hearing it as a mocking tune rather than the beau
tiful sound it was.

  “Ah-HA! Caught ya!” he sneered, finally managing to grab the strange dove with his Shapeless Raiment, its cheeps and chirps muffled by the fabric.

  “Man, this thing is useful,” he mused as he idly stroked the silky soft surface of the cape. “I wonder where I got this from?”

  After trying – and failing – to remember anything of his past, he gave up with a sigh and returned his attention to the bird he’d caught.

  “Okay, listen! I don’t like you. I want you to leave. Go away!” he ordered the avian, opening up his cape. It gave him a sad look, but he was immune to its wiles, and huffed, shaking his head.

  “No means no, bird! Get moving!”

  With a sorrowful trill it took flight, zipping around and circling the helmet for a bit before diving down over the edge of the floating rock on which the nameless man stood and vanishing from sight.

  Once it was gone, he heaved a sigh of relief. “Stupid birds… hate ‘em! Don’t know why, but I hate them so much!”

  Now that the distraction had left, he could get back to more important matters! Like figuring out who the Hells he was!

  The glint of the embedded halberd drew his attention. A feeling of familiarity rose up within him as he reached out a gauntleted hand and grabbed it, drawing it effortlessly from the stone.

  “This… is mine,” he murmured slowly. “I was… gifted this. No, earned it? I-I can’t really remember. B-but I recall it can shrink or grow in size, and never dulls or breaks. I-I used this to… kill monsters because… I was… an adventurer?”

  Memories tried to surface, but pain burned through his brain and he immediately dropped that line of thought before the agony grew greater.

  “Ugh! Stupid brain! Why won’t you work properly?” the man growled in anger, tapping the side of his helmet in agitation. The action made a loud ‘Ding!’ as metal rang against metal, then echoed out across the vastness of wherever he was.

  “This place is weird… I know I don’t have any of my memories, but I have the strangest feeling this is not the place I’m supposed to be. Wait! Hang on…” Images of a swirling portal filled his mind, and then flashes of a ruined city hidden in a deep jungle, populated by animated statues and other creatures made of stone and metal.