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Chapter 12 - Cost of Risk

  “I find it to be a stunning revelation to know how little we know of our world compared to those who came before us. What little records we possess of them speak of an empire that spans the entire continents with seemingly endless roads. What we have rediscovered in comparison looks to be nothing more than children scratching away in a sand pit”

  ~Scholar Gregori Hashni, 6190 A.S.

  To the complete surprise of Alistair, he found his eyes fluttering open, if painfully, as he slowly regained consciousness. Confusion was his initial impression as the last thing he remembered was a bomb going off in front of him. The fact that he wasn’t out right dead was utterly baffling, yet he knew for a fact he was alive from the amount of pain and soreness his body radiated to his mind.

  A groan escaped his cracked lips and he found breathing was more difficult than what it should be, but he managed. Alistair was mostly concerned by how much of his body felt numb and he feared he suffered nerve damage. All of that was pushed to the side when he felt an odd sense of elation mixed with relief, feelings that didn’t come from him specifically.

  He focused on where he was feeling them from and realized they originated from the center of his chest. He frowned at the odd sensation of foreign emotions but saw no reason not to examine them further. With as much mental strength as he could muster, he tried to touch upon those foreign sensations and gasped when he felt the presence of someone else entirely within his chest.

  The emotions coming from the presence exuded excitement upon him touching upon it and seemingly reached out to him in turn. Alistair was weary at what he was feeling, yet that inner presence seemed to reassure him with feelings of calm and comfort. He hesitated for a second, but soon mentally grasped onto the presence and felt an odd desire to pull on it. So pulled he did and gasped at the surge of energy that burst free.

  The feeling of power rushed outwards in a flash of brilliant light the colors of blue, violet and red. The light formed into a shapeless mass that writhed and twisted before settling down as it took a proper shape. Only a handful of seconds passing until Alistair was staring at a large and unfamiliar person, or thing.

  The light had faded into the form of a massive, broad figure covered from head to toe in dark metal armor. The armor looked black in color with highlights of violet coating the edges of each armored plate. Blue energy glowed from underneath each armored plate as well as from each joint. Symbols that looked the same as what were once on the orb glowed an ominous red as they ran up and down the limbs and across its body.

  The armor itself was designed with overlapping plates that almost held a scale like appearance. What was odd was both the gauntlets as well as the sabatons that covered the feet were designed to look more like talons instead of normal hands and feet. The helmet also held a unique design looking as if it were shaped to be the head of a crow, or perhaps even a raven.

  Clutched in one of the large knights taloned hands was a massive dark spear that possessed a spear head on each end of the shaft. Not only that, but Alistair was starting to suspect the overall theme was as each spear blade looked to be in the shape of a feather. The final thing he could partially make out from where he still lay on the floor was a curved metal plate on the knight's back that looked like it could be a shield.

  The knight stood there for a long moment before its head ever so slowly turned to look down as it held up its free hand. With careful and deliberate movements, it flexed its hand and even passed the spear back and forth a few times. One leg was raised then set back down as the other one was raised as well before the knight stopped.

  A low reverberation could be heard emanating from the Knight and Alistair was confused at first as to what it was. The sound only grew in volume and intensity as it continued. That is when he realized the sound was deep and emotional laughter. Laughter that soon boomed and echoed through the room as the knight threw their head back and let it out.

  The sound was full of joy and excitement, the kind of laughter one could only hear from someone who succeeded at something they believed impossible. The sound eventually faded down into a delighted chuckle as the knight looked down at where Alistair lay, who in turn looked up at the knight with both concern and confusion.

  With a crash, the knight dropped down onto a knee then slammed their right fist into their chest while keeping the spear planted as straight as possible with their left.

  “Alistair Grant, you have done me a service that I feared to be impossible” The knight said, their voice deep and powerful but full of kindness and respect, and also familiar. “I had truly believed myself to be doomed to fade away, trapped within this facility to be forgotten and never found. Yet, not only have you spared me of that fate, you have provided a way for me to yet again live and see the world once more. I shall forever be in your debt, from now until the day Chronos himself ceases to be.”

  For a long moment Alistair was too stunned to speak, unsure as to what he could even say after a proclamation like that. He was pretty sure that the knight in front of him was the physical form of the orb that he talked to, but he never expected it to appear like this. One thing he was sure about however was the knight was probably male from the pitch and tone of his voice. After a few seconds of piecing it all together, he finally opened his mouth to speak.

  “You are the orb I was talking to,” he stated, surprised at how raspy his voice sounded

  “Correct Mr. Grant” The knight responded with a nod, “I was the one within the orb, yet now I have the honor of being before you in physical form, and in my old form no less.”

  “Glad it worked then” Alistair groaned and let his head drop back down to the floor with a groan. After a moment he tried to sit up, but frowned when his body responded sluggishly. His right arm seemed to have the most function, so he tried to push himself up but failed. He growled in frustration and tried again, but only succeeded in partially rolling over.

  He lifted his head again, trying to examine his body to see what was going on but it was still too dark to see most things. The only reason he could see the knight so clearly was he was glowing from just about everywhere.

  “The fuck is going on?” He growled out, once more trying to push himself up and failing yet again. The knight shifted closer and helped lift Alistair up onto a sitting position while answering his question.

  “I regret to inform you Mr. Grant that while overall the procedure was a success, you did not come out unscathed,” The knight said and Alistair was surprised to feel a surge of guilt come across their connection.

  “How scathed are we talking? Cause I can barely move” Alistair asked, his voice still oddly raspy

  There was a long pause from the knight, his form utterly still as he helped hold Alistair steady before he spoke.

  “Upon the completion of my transfer to you Mr. Grant, the structure that was housing my spiritual body underwent a catastrophic failure and was no longer able to contain the energy inside. This resulted in a detonation that dealt a critical level of damage to your body. The severity of the damage was to the degree that it was a miracle you did not instantly perish.” The knight paused in his explanation and Alistair could feel the concern rolling off of him.

  “While the damage failed to be instantly fatal, you had only moments left before you would be claimed by Obidai. I knew I had to act fast, but my options were limited due to the lack of power remaining for the facility. There was only one option available that could save you with what little power remained that I knew would not only save you short term, but in the long term in case no one with medical capabilities were nearby upon our departure.”

  Alistair was beginning to have a bad feeling about what the knight was going to tell him. He was confused as to who Obidai was, but figured it didn’t matter right now. He did however start to gain an idea of what he was going to be told, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

  “I was able to activate the facility's Emergency Lazarus Protocol, a procedure originally designed to act as a worse case scenario solution until proper medical care could be applied. However, on your situation Mr. Grant I allowed the procedure to continue past where it was originally designed to stop as I knew it was the only way for you to live.” There came another pause before he continued, “With the ELP active, you were able to be rebuilt to the degree that no further medical attention will be needed.”

  “What exactly do you mean by rebuilt?” Alistair asked, noticing the wording choice made by the knight, “Did I just get fucking robocopped?”

  The knight didn’t answer, instead he gripped his spear tighter and power began to course through him. Alistair could feel the energy the knight was using but soon understood what he was doing as each of the red symbols, along with the already present blue glow, intensified. In just a few seconds, intense red and blue light filled the area around them to the point Alistair had to briefly close his eyes at the intensity of it.

  Understanding what the knight was doing, Alistair opened his eyes and looked down at himself. Shock couldn’t even start to describe what he was feeling when he laid his eyes on his body. His mouth opened to say, something or anything really but all that came out was a choked cry of surprise and alarm.

  When the knight had said he had been rebuilt, he was not exaggerating. The entirety of his left arm as well as his left leg, which included the shoulder and hip, were just gone and replaced with what appeared to be crude robotic limbs. The overall design was blocky and rough, holding the appearance of someone who used crystal to weld together scrap metal into the rough shape of limbs. At the very least Alistair could tell that the joints, especially on his new hand, were done with more care and detail.

  Unfortunately that was only the first details he noticed about his new body, and they were far from the only changes. His right leg had shared a similar fate with his left, only he still possessed roughly half his upper leg as well as his right hip unlike his left one. On a more positive note, the majority of his right arm remained, excluding the part where his hand and forearm looked to have been split vertically down the middle. That meant he still had his thumb and two fingers that remained flesh as well as his upper arm and shoulder, but he found it odd seeing a vertical mix of flesh and metal like that.

  He moved his gaze back down onto his body, which revealed nearly half his chest to be covered in a crude metal plate on his left half. And what appeared to be cables that were pulled tightly across the metal giving the impression of ribs that wrapped around his left side, and he guessed onto his back. Each cable rib ever so faintly glowed that same pale blue that he saw leaking from the rooms broken cables. He had a sinking suspicion his blood situation was altered as well but didn’t ask about it.

  To the best that he could tell, all the replacements were primarily the same metal that comprised the machinery he had seen in the room, and a glance behind him at the now stripped pod behind him confirmed where the parts came from. Deep down he couldn't help but feel both honored and grateful towards the alien device. This now makes the second time the pod had saved his life, and in less than a day.

  He turned his attention back to his body and Alistair was pleased to find he was able to move his right arm enough he could run his three flesh fingers across the surface of his right leg, surprised to find how smooth the new appendage was. The overall appearance of his replacements may have looked crude and pieced together, but at the same time it was oddly well made.

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  The shock was wearing off enough that he could properly examine the details of his new body. Taking notice of the joints specifically, pleased that his earlier assessment of them being well designed to be accurate. He still struggled to move just about any of the replacements, but he had some degree of success with his right hand. The fingers moved slowly, if a bit awkwardly in their blocky design, but moved they did. Bit by bit, he watched the metal fingers curl until he was making a fist, before straightening them back out.

  Before he could examine himself more, the light coming off the knight faded back down into his natural glow. The knight sagged a bit before straightening back up and said, “I must apologies Mr. Grant for that is all I can manage for now on my personal reserves of aether.”

  The knight's voice sounded tired, in the same manner someone would sound if they were out of breath, only without the gasping for air. There was a brief moment where Alistair forgot about his own condition as he pondered whether the knight had a physical body, or if he was just the armor. That thought led to the idea that maybe the Knight was actually some kind of magic robot but with a human brain controlling it.

  He mentally shook himself as he refocused on the situation, his functional arm unconsciously reaching over to grab at his left shoulder. Similar to his leg, the overall work was done well, his natural fingers unable to find any signs of improper welds or jagged edges. He supposed that was something to be grateful of as if he was going to be a magic cyborg, he might as well be a well built magic cyborg.

  He let out a raspy sigh and scratched his chin out of habit, only to freeze and mentally curse upon feeling more smooth metal. Alistair took a deep breath, which he still found hard to do, then explored his chin and jaw to try and figure out what was replaced up there. The conclusion of his search left him conflicted as based on what he felt, the left side of his jaw, cheekbone, part of his eye socket and his left ear were all metal. His ear was the weirdest part since it was now mostly just a hole that partially protruded to help capture sound.

  To top it all off, a rather large chunk of his neck was replaced by tightly bunched thin cables that had been weaved together. They gave him the impression of trying to imitate both muscles as well as veins. The knight had not been exaggerating when he claimed Alistair should have been instantly dead. A thought occurred to Alistair, one that sent him into a fit of chuckling that had the knight tilting his head, confusion coming across their connection.

  “Is everything all right Mr. Grant?” asked the Knight, the question sending Alistair into full blown wheezing laughter that knocked him back down. Despite the coughing and wheezing from the strain, Alistair couldn’t stop laughing until he physically couldn’t anymore.

  Once he felt under control of himself again, the Knight helped him back up to a sitting position and he answered the obviously concerned Knight.

  “Back on my world, I had gotten into a pretty bad accident that required a ton of surgery. I had more metal plates and screws holding me together than I had bones. Because of that my buddies started calling me the discount cyborg,” He began to chuckle again but maintained enough control to keep speaking, “If they all saw me now they will have to change my name to magic cyborg instead.”

  He failed to contain himself and roared out with more laughter, the Knight holding him upright this time until he calmed down.

  “I believe I see the irony in your situation Mr. Grant” The knight commented slowly, “However I am also pleased to see you are able to find humor in the situation instead of succumbing to despair or perhaps resentment towards myself as I originally feared.”

  By now what little laughter Alistair still held faded away as he rubbed his leg again, a small grimace crossing his features as he did so.

  “If I am going to be honest with you, I can’t say I’m exactly enthused about what has happened, and this may be my past talking, but I believe I appreciate being alive more than I hate what I've turned into. This is definitely something that will take some getting used to, but I can make it work.” Alistair said, half to himself. He was partially startled at the veritable wave of relief that came across their connection making him realize just how tense the Knight had been.

  “You are a remarkably strong-willed individual Mr. Grant” The knight stated, “I have known many in my past who would be claimed by despair if they were to be found in your shoes.”

  “Benefits of past trauma I suppose” Alistair shrugged, “Makes shit like this easier to get a handle on.” he said, a wistful look on his face as he stared off at nothing. A thought occurred to him and he turned back to the still kneeling knight.

  “I am curious about something,” he started ensuring he had the knight's full attention, “I thought you said you were just a spirit in an orb or something like that, so why did you appear as a massive raven knight instead like a floating ball or something?”

  “If I am to be honest Mr. Grant, I am not entirely sure of the answer but have a theory” the Knight answered. “First, I must ask, do you recall my mention of serving the empire for long enough that I was rewarded?”

  “I do”

  “Excellent Mr. Grant” The knight said cheerfully, “My reward was my spiritual body being transferred into an elite model of runic constructs known as a P.A.R.S unit, what you see before you” The knight taped his armored chest in emphasis as he spoke. “P.A.R.S stands for Paragon Autonomized Runic Sentinel. As one of the elite, I stood as the last line of defense for the empire.”

  Alistair could hear the obvious pride in the knight’s voice when he spoke of his service to his empire, and now he could feel the sadness coming across their connection when he remembered his empire had died long ago. He wanted to say something to comfort the knight, but was interrupted when he continued his explanation.

  “As you also know Mr. Grant, I was eventually transferred to be a guardian will for this facility to assist with the war efforts. Something, if I may be honest, I did not particularly enjoy.” The knight's head drooped down, as if physically ashamed to admit such a thing, “However I still performed my duties the best I could, I even grew to quite enjoy the company of many of the researchers.”

  Alistair could sense where the knight was heading with this, but stayed silent and let his new companion gather his thoughts.

  “However it still was not quite the same as being a knight for the empire. Knowing that often it was my spear and body that stood in defense of everything I loved. My time in the facility was not entirely regrettable Mr. Grant, as I said, there were many here I grew quite fond of. But there just was not the same connection I felt when I served as a P.A.R.S.”

  “And you think that connection is why you took this form instead of the orb?” Alistair finished, mostly guessing but picking up on the context.

  “Indeed Mr. Grant” The knight nodded, “I believe my connection to this form as well as my desire to protect and serve you is what led to my spirit taking this form upon integrating with your Summoner’s Mobius Helix.”

  While Alistair didn’t know shit about how magic on this world worked, he supposed what the knight said made sense. Either way it didn’t really matter as to why he looked the way he did, only that the Knight looked powerful. Something Alistair desperately needed considering he was alone in an entirely unknown world. He was unsure what kind of society the two of them would find on the surface, so he would take all the powerful allies he could.

  Alistair glanced over the Knights armored form, examined how the red runes glowed and seemed to gently pulse with energy and power. He could see how even kneeling, the knight balanced himself so he could shoot up to his feet and be ready to fight at barely a moment's notice. Even through their connection deep in his chest, he could feel the thrum of power the knight possessed, just waiting to be unleashed.

  Alistair unconsciously rubbed his metal leg but looked down at it upon realizing what he was doing. His family would completely freak out if they saw him like this, maybe even call him a freak. That brought forth a pang of tightness in his chest at the thought of his mother, the only family he had left. Would she want anything to do with him if he showed up looking like this?

  He shook his head at the thought, dismissing it as quickly as it appeared. He knew his mother better than anyone, and if anyone on earth was capable of loving someone that no longer looked human, it was her. That mental train led him to a realization he was surprised he didn’t come to yet.

  “Sorry for taking this long to ask, but what’s your name?” Alistair asked, looking back up from his leg.

  The knight was silent for a long moment, their head drooping down as if lost in thought. Eventually they raised back up and looked directly into Alistair's eyes, who in turn saw for the first time that where he should have seen the eyes of a person in the bird shaped helm, all he saw was two blue orbs of energy.

  “My name died along with my empire. It is a name tied to a past that deserves its final rest” The Knight said with a somber tone that also held a level of conviction and determination, “Would you be willing Mr. Grant, of doing me a tremendous honor by bestowing upon me a new name to be the start of my new life. A new life that I may spend by your side, protecting you.”

  “Are you sure you want me to?” he asked, unsure how he should feel about the request. Part of him did feel honored by the notion, but he could also feel the turmoil coming across their connection.

  He could feel how the knight, while appearing stoic, was internally trembling at knowing this was him officially recognizing his old life, the empire he served for his entire life, was gone. Alistair would almost compare this to him accepting he was in a new world, but deep down he had a sneaking suspicion he could return at some point. It may not be soon, but if magic existed to bring him here, then surely there was magic to send him back.

  It was different for the knight however, as they both knew and understood there was no home for the knight to return to. No miracle magic to restore and bring back a dead empire from well over four thousand years in the past. Letting his name, his old life fade away, that would be it. There was even a strong possibility he was the only one left in the world who knew the truth of that empire, of what their society was truly like. And he was willing to lay it all to rest, to accept that it was all gone.

  “It is long past time the empire I served is laid to rest” The knight said, more than likely feeling Alistair's inner turmoil the same way he was feeling theirs.

  “All right then, give me a minute to think. This isn’t something I should half ass” Alistair answered with a faint smirk to keep the mood up.

  And he did just that, thinking about what kind of name he should give the Knight. Instantly some obvious choices popped into his head, something like Raven, or Lancelot, but he shook his head at those. Then he stopped, and thought about that last one a bit more. He could see some potential in it, but still needed more work. The legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the round table would be a perfect source of inspiration for this.

  Yet he thought if all he did was give the knight kneeling in front of him one of their names, it wouldn’t be the same as his own name. It needs to contain his own sense of identity, to express who he was as an individual. Alistair’s gaze fell back over the knight’s form, at the metallic armor that held the features of a raven. And an idea began to blossom inside his mind, an idea that he believed would work.

  “Parsival” He said confidently, “Parsival Renascor. The name comes from a few things, the first being that you said that form is called a P.A.R.S unit, something you obviously have a strong connection to.” Alistair began to explain, already feeling the uncertainty in their connection, “I know you said the old world should be allowed to rest, and you are right. However being a P.A.R.S. is something you resonate with, it's less of who you are and more what you are. The other portion is something from my world, a legend that revolves around a gathering of loyal knights that embark on what was said to be an impossible quest all for the sake of their king. One of those knights was Sir Perceval.”

  The knight nodded along with the explanation, the uncertainty along their connection fading into interest.

  “What is the reasoning for the second name Mr. Grant?” He asked, the helm tilting to the side in confusion, “Is that common in your world?”

  “It is” Alistair nodded, “Surnames are often connections to family or groups. Many people from the same family will share the same Surname to indicate they are family.”

  “I see” The knight said while nodding himself, then met Alistair's gaze once more. “Would it not make sense for me to have your surname of Grant then?”

  Alistair paused at the question, thinking it over. He supposed it would make sense, especially considering how connected the two are now. Part of him found the notion a little weird as it would almost count as him adopting the knight, but he knew the knight wouldn’t see it that way. More than likely the Knight would only see the name as him being a part of Alistair, which he supposed was technically true considering he was his summon now. Shrugging to himself, he didn’t see the harm in the knight taking on his last name. The only shame was he thought he was being clever with renascor and the fact it was Latin for reborn. Oh well, grant was easier and quicker to say.

  “I suppose it would make sense,” he relented, giving the knight a nod.

  With a resounding clang, followed by a crash as both spear and fist collided with the ground and the knight's chest respectfully, he once more bowed forward with his salute.

  “Then let it be known,” The knight began, his voice rising into a crescendo of power and conviction. The very air seemed to tremble at his words, the stone of the floor even vibrating at the sheer resonance his proclamation carried, “On this day, I shall be forever known, as Parsival Grant”

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