Page 8 of Fated
“It shows other pictures?”
“Yes! You can play games on it too.” I reached for the remote, eager to show off anything I might have that could interest him. If he was real—and I was mostly convinced at this point that he was, or at least enough convinced that I’d had to compartmentalize the earlier boob-poking—I wanted him to stay as long as possible before he went back home.
Unfortunately for me, in my excitement, I immediately forgot the reason I’d looked at the TV in the first place. So, of course, I pressed the button to get rid of the screensaver, and there was Game Areth in all his glory. The shock and mortification had me depositing an entire heap of flowers onto my coffee table.
“It’s not (cough) what (cough cough) you (cough) think!” I desperately choked out between flowers.
“You need to let me check you over, small Max,” Areth said, using the commanding tone he used on his troops in the game. He didn’t seem to care about the image on my TV at all. Instead, he was far more concerned with my health.
What the hell was happening?
I flopped over onto my side weakly and asked, “You aren’t going to squash me for spying on you?”
“Were you spying on me?”
“No! This picture is from a video game. In this world, you and your people are a game. I didn’t even know you were real until now, I swear.” I started coughing again.
“Calm yourself, little one. I do not wish for you to hurt yourself. This is common between dimensions. Small bits of various realities bleed through into others. We have something similar to your TV on Xalen, only we use magic to tell the tales and play the games.”
“You do?” It wasn’t a part of Hellwing, but then it would probably be weird to have characters in a game take a break from waging war to play a game or watch a movie. “You don’t by any chance play games about boring nerds who sit around and eat junk food and play video games, do you?”
“I do not know what a nerd is, but no. Our games are more like fighting simulations. No junk food.”
“You don’t have nerds, but you have junk food?”
“I think every culture has junk food.” Areth gave me a pat on the head and said, “Our magic has shown me many stories from other dimensions, so I believe you. Now I will examine you, Max.” It wasn’t a request.
My mind filled with a few X-rated ways Areth could potentially use to examine me, and I let out a small hmph when all he did was wave a glowing hand over my body.
Areth frowned. “I do not recognize this disease.” He got to his feet and scooped me back off the couch. “Come. I will take you to get help.”
He did something weird with his hand, and the air rippled between us and my framed, limited-edition poster of Attack on Titan. Then he stepped through the ripple.
I panicked and shouted, “Wait! Mitzy!” But she followed us into the portal right on Areth’s heels. He moved me to one arm and bent down to pick up Mitzy. He’d shifted back to his originalsize after going through the portal, so it was an effortless feat for him. With a single beat of his wings, he lifted us into the air.
I left a trail of flowers behind us as we flew. You’d think the constant weirdness and pain of coughing up flowers would be enough of a turn-off for me to stop thinking about having sex with Areth, marrying him, and then having a lot more sex with him, but no. Being kidnapped and carted off to God knows where while flying had my brain wondering if I could sneak a magnet onto his dick without him noticing. If I attached one to my ass, then maybe my poor lonely hole might finally reach nirvana.
Chapter 2
Areth
My human had begun to produce azra blossoms at an alarming rate. If this continued, I was not going to be able to call them my favorite flower anymore.
Shiza would know how to help him, I was sure of it. Bringing Max home with me had been the best option available for his well-being. It was also the perfect excuse to do what I had already known I would do the moment I laid eyes on him.
When I was young, I would have moments when I thought someone was calling my name, but every time I would turn around to see who was calling me, no one was there. Instead of shaking it off, I would become despondent for days. As I got older, I grew accustomed to the phenomenon, much like I could get used to being in the scorching hot sun if I did it often enough. It didn’t mean I wasn’t bothered by it.
No matter how much time passed, I wasn’t able to adjust to the feeling that I was missing something.
Around twenty-five years ago, the phenomenon evolved. The voice was louder, and a deep longing would stir in my soul. One far stronger than the one from my childhood. I would go through days where I felt like someone was calling me, or that I’dforgotten something of great importance, and if I simply looked hard enough, I would find it, and the longing would be sated.
I was impossible to be around during these times. I was not depressed; I was surly, destructive, and constantly wandering my lands searching for the precious thing I had lost.
The only thing that would shake me out of these fits was the heat of battle. I threw myself into every war I could find. Small skirmishes did nothing for me. I needed the thrill of a challenge and the threat of death to drown out the longing. I had to do it. Otherwise, I knew I would eventually grow mad.
In between battles, I would travel extensively. I explored the boundaries of my small world and eventually needed to branch out to other dimensions. Every time, I would return home empty-handed and scraped raw and empty inside. And every time, I would dive into a new battle to drive out the anguish in my soul.
If I could not find a war, I would start one. It had left me defacto ruler of half of Xalen. But since I was an absentee ruler and allowed my people to mostly govern themselves, I didn’t have many revolts to deal with. It might have also had something to do with the trade agreements I’d implemented. Business was good for everyone in my realm, and no one wanted to rock the boat.
