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Sequence 1 Merge 3, Element’s Altered Trembor, Human Trembor bottomed in with a groan, and Marlot responded with a sigh filled with satisfaction, his legs around his waist and holding him in. He gazed into those pools of utter darkness. “I love you.” Marlot smirked. “And you know I’m kind of fond of you two.” He laughed. “I am amazed we found each other.” “We were kind of thrown together in that initial mess of the guild throwing all of us at the dungeon to see who’d survive.” “You know it’s more than that. It would have been easy to let despair pull us down to the point we didn’t see anyone else. I….” “Hey, you don’t have to say it. We found each other, that’s the important thing.” “Don’t tell Tibs I said this, but I think we were lucky.” Marlot laughed. “Oh, I am definitely not telling him that. I have had enough of his ‘there is no luck element, so luck’s not a thing.’ I’m proof luck is such a thing. I can’t cont the times luck kept him alive.” “Maybe luck is just the elements having a plan for us.” “Darkness and Light, intertwined.” “Imbedded.” Trembor gave a small thrust and his soft cock slipped out. “Not anymore.” “Your turn then?” “I wish. You had me cum in the middle of all that. And my element means I can take one away, not make it happen.” “Then I should do a patrol.” Marlot groaned. “That isn’t your job.” “My town. My—” “You know this isn’t the desert, right?” Trembor chuckled. “I had noticed it doesn’t get quite as hot, or as cold.” “Then you don’t have to always be on guard. There aren’t bandits outside waiting for an opportunity to come in and take what your people have.” “No, they’re already in. They’re already taking. And the one who should keep us safe is prevented from doing so. So it is my duty to ensure as many as I can are safe.” “How did someone as good as you ever end up here?” Trembor didn’t look away; it would be the quickest way to reveal his shame. The burning camp, his family dead while the bandits held him, bound him, dragging and eventually sold him to someone with rich clothing and gold coins. Someone who added him to his collection, which he then sold to another in richer clothing and with more coins, who brought them here. He didn’t see how many coins the woman had gotten for the lot of them. He’d failed his family. He wouldn’t fail his town. No, he was already failing it. But he wouldn’t let that keep him from trying harder. “The elements wanted it,” he said, and Marlot smiled. * * * * * He caught the fist, twisted until the thug in green and black scream, then broke the arm. A punch in the face and the man no longer screamed in pain. He elbowed the one trying to sneak behind in the face. He unhooked the piece of wood from his belt and brought it up, pushing essence into it. The bow extended from each end, solid light making him a magnificent bow. He hooked the light string with his fingers and pulled, feeding it more light and the arrow manifested. He released it, and the running thug crashed to the ground, light arrow in his calf. He considered this another proof luck was a thing. How else could Tibs had pulled such a perfect item for him? And one that solve the complaint every other bow caused. How to carry one. He could string a bow quickly, he had years of doing so, but that had been in the desert, where he could see threats coming six or seven dunes away. There, he had time to string it and take the shot. Here, in such tight spaces and with so many people, he had to carry it strung to have any chance at using it to help, and that weakened the string. This? It was nothing more than a plain piece of wood until he pushed his essence into it. It had a small reserve. It was how he’d sensed it depended on light, but barely enough to form one arrow. This was the kind of item a king paid platinum for a sorcerer to make, and the dungeon just happened to deliver it in a reward chest. And not even the boss chest. How had that been anything but luck? He grabbed the running thug and dragged him to the others, tied them, then pulled the group along to deliver them. * * * * * The guard leader glared. “It’s not my job to deal with them!” he motioned to the unconscious men Trembor had dragged before his office. His people knew better than try to stop him by now. While not official, Trembor came and went as he pleased in the guards’ building. Those who didn’t want him here had learned the folly of trying to stop him, and the others appreciated the work he did. “You’re the only one I trust,” he replied. Which didn’t make the guard leader happy. “I don’t fucking care. There is a process for—” “That process is corrupted.” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “If you can’t know who to trust, Harry, how can I?” “It’s not—” “Harry, stop, please.” He opened his eyes. “They aren’t letting you do your job. Why won’t you let me do it for you? The town is infested, and your guild doesn’t care. Seems to want it this way. Why else prevent you from doing what is needed. I know I’m not a guard, that I’m just an Upsilon Runner, but I was protector of my family before coming here. I can help.” The guard leader looked defeated. “I can’t let you.” “Then don’t stop me.” “I can’t let you,” he replied through grinding teeth. “I can’t have Runners die in the town doing things that aren’t any of their business.” “The town, the dungeon, what does it matter where I die?” “Those are my orders!” “They are wrong, Harry. Orders that let corruption spread aren’t orders you should follow.” “They are my orders,” he said again. Trembor shook his head. He didn’t understand the man’s determination to follow orders that made things worse. “Then throw me in a cell, because I won’t stop.” “I can’t throw you in a cell unless you break a rule.” “Then, I’ll return with more of those thugs.” “There are procedures!” the guard leader yelled as Trembor left his office. * * * * * He hated climbing to the roofs. He wasn’t the climber Tibs was. Even Marlot, for as wonderful a man as he was, wasn’t. But he had to admit that they were good place to watch over the growing town. From a roof, he could look along an entire road and get a sense of the people in it. With his bow, he could stop a criminal before they escape, then go gather them for the guard leader. And when the sun was up, the heat reminded him of home. Made him miss the sand, the wind. His family. They’d been lords, his father had told him, once upon a time. Back when the desert was a kingdom, they had ruled it. Kept their people safe until the elements turned on them. Earth buried everything. Air scattered the rest, and Water left. Leaving Fire to have dominion over them. There had always been a sense of anger in his father’s words. How could they dare take that away from his family? Trembor hadn’t felt it. By the time he’d heard the story, he had learned that in the desert, things happened, and dwelling on why didn’t solve anything. He didn’t dwell on why the bandits kept him alive when he’d taken so many of them with his bow. Why they forced him to watch them kill his family in the fire. He hated them for it, but he didn’t dwell. He was here. He had a new family, a new domain. He would keep them— The sword that slammed through his back to appear out of his stomach was unexpectedly slender, as was the hand that moved to grasp his chin. “You have made my master quite angry. You and that dark man of yours,” she whispered. She pulled the sword out. “It is my pleasure to ensure you two are never together again.” She pushed, and he fell into the alley. No. He couldn’t die here. Light save him. He had to warn Marlot; to protect him. He tried to move, but his legs refused to obey; he couldn’t feel them. He tried to drag himself forward. Make it out of the alley, someone would know him on the street and bring…. Who could help him? Tibs wasn’t that kind of cleric. Those weren’t here yet. “Do not move,” a man said, then was turned onto his back. “This is not good.” Trembor couldn’t make out his features within the hood, but he had the sense the man smiled. “But it is not so bad that I can not assist.” “Who?” “No one. That is who I am.” The pain went away. “There, simply relax and breathe.” He felt his toes twitch, then his legs. His strength returned, and he looked as the wound in his stomach closed. “Cleric.” The man laughed. “I am no such thing. I would consider it an insult to be thought as them.” “I’m sorry. This, this is a thing of clerics.” “No. It is a thing of Purity and Life. Clerics would hoard what shouldn’t be held back.” He stood. “You are whole. Rest, and when you have the strength, return to those you love.” Trembor grabbed the man’s legs. “My team could use you. We need a sorcerer.” “I am…not one. I am not…anything, I believe. As I have said. I am no one. It is best you do not tell others what I have done. I have enemies you do not wish to have.” The man moved, and the leg passed through Trembor’s fingers. He forced himself to his feet, considering going after the man. He deserved a reward, to receive thanks, at the very least. But once he was standing, panting and needing the wall for support, he remembered the woman’s words. He headed for the room he and Marlot shared. He doubted she had meant to keep them apart only by killing him. He was alive, so he had to find and protect his man.