Survivor: Definitely Not Minecraft

My breath caught in my throat. This was no longer a casual chat. I could go on dying and respawning, if not forever, then for a long time. Unless the goddess took a personal interest in her soul, Esmelda had only one life. Our child had only one life. My body wanted to run, to fight, but my mind knew better. Bojack had me completely in his power. My hands were shaking, and I brought them together to keep them still, looking at the ground.

Flat stone. Shadows, my leather clad-feet. I had prepared a place for her, hadn't I? A shelter. Somewhere underground. My memory problems were worse than I had imagined if I couldn't recall the location.

"Where did you find her?"

"A forest north of your town. The Lord who betrayed you has declared himself a king, and he was eager to be of service in exchange for our continued support. Kevin has done little to advance Dargoth's cause in the region. All he wanted was the lillits. The man is fighting a war on our behalf, even if he does not realize it."

"Why does Kevin care about the lillits? What is it with him?"

"He is a creature of whims. He has been building a train, and he wanted the little folk to operate it. They are like dolls to him."

"And now he has Esmelda."

"No." Bojack stood, looming over me. "The Dark Lord has forgotten you, assuming you will soon break. One of my kin asked the new king of Henterfell to find your mate. He has her now, awaiting your decision."

"You're going to kill her?" The words were toneless. I felt like I was already dead.

"Of course not. She can only be killed once, and you might still refuse me. But she will suffer, and I am told she is with child."

"You really are a demon."

"I am merely your enemy. Do you think a human would be any less despicable?"

I wanted to say he was wrong, but he wasn't. People took hostages all the time. My mind didn't race. My hands weren't even shaking anymore. A fiery ball of anger was forming in my gut, but I couldn't act on it now. Whatever came after this, Bojack would not get the ending that he wanted. For now, though, he had given me no choice. Allowing Esmelda to be tortured was not an option.

He might be lying. She might be safe. I had no way of knowing what had happened to her as long as I was stuck in this cage.

"How do I know you're not making this up?"

Bojack's toga had pockets. He reached into one and presented me with a silver comb. It looked small in his palm. My chest clenched as I took it from him, it was Esmelda's, I'd seen it a hundred times. The design was simple, and she'd taken care of it well enough that it didn't show signs of its age. It was hard to imagine him faking something so specific.

"If you hurt her—"

"I have no intention of doing so. Her continued well-being is entirely up to you."

I clutched the comb to my abdomen.

"What's the oath?"

Bojack reached under one of the loose sleeves of his toga and produced a dagger. It looked like a miniature version of Kevin's sword, complete with a pale diamond, though the gem was set into the center of its cross-guard instead of at the end of its pommel.

"Swear upon the blade that you will follow my commands."

"So you can tell me to do anything? I'm going to be your slave?"

"I am not unreasonable. An oath must have two sides to be binding. I will speak the beginning, all you need to do is accept the terms as I describe them."

It wasn't like I was going to turn him down. Either I found a way out of this after I was in a better position to bargain, or there was no reason for me to keep fighting.

"Start it then."

"Swear to be my servant, bound to follow my orders as you understand them. In turn, I promise never to harm your family, and to do whatever is in my power to keep them safe. Nor will I demand you take action that endangers them directly."

A red mote bloomed in the heart of the gem set in the blade.

"That still sounds like I'm going to be your slave."

"If you refuse to follow my commands, the oath will punish you. If I cannot hold my end, the oath will sunder. I have no intention of reducing you to simple servitude. My goal is to bring you into the willing service of my master, but for now, the binding is necessary. There are no other Survivors in this world. I need you to accomplish my goals and therefore cannot treat you as a disposable tool. These are the most generous terms I can offer and still ensure you will not turn against me at the first opportunity."

This situation was uncomfortably close to what I had gone through with Godwod. Bojack was basically becoming my new liege lord. Only in this case, the pact would be magically enforced. I didn't like it, but every moment I delayed was a moment that Esmelda was at the mercy of a demon. At least he had promised to keep her safe.

I extended my hand. The metal was cool under my fingertips.

"I swear."

As soon as I spoke the words, I felt something shift inside of me, a faint pressure, then release, and the gem burned brighter. My Journal screen was still floating over my arm, and it flashed automatically over to the notifications tab.

Journal Quests Notifications Materials Crafting

You are Bound. Contracts sworn upon an Oathblade are imposed under the Celestial Compact. Violation of the contract will result in the activation of a Curse of Weakening, which can only be lifted via expiation, by express permission of the holder of the contract, or destruction of the binding blade.

Bojack returned the dagger to his sleeve as I read. I didn't know what 'expiation' entailed, but if breaking the blade itself could get me out of the bargain, this wouldn’t be so bad after all. The demon could have me as his servant for now, but eventually, I was going to have the equipment I needed to take him down. Then I could snap the dagger over my knee before the curse did too much damage.

Something told me it was going to be more complicated than that, but it was satisfying to think about as I tapped off the screen.

"What now?"

"Move away from the box." Bojack made a shooing motion.

It sounded like an order. There was no compulsion attached, and I wondered how long I would have to sit in place before refusing to move would count as a violation of my oath. I couldn't effectively subvert his commands until I understood how tight my chains really were. Did simply deciding not to obey trigger the curse, or would I need to take action?

"What if I don't?" I asked. "What happens?"

The demon's nostrils flared. "This is not a game, human. Oaths are not toys to be played with."

"You said you want me to work with you willingly, explaining what I just agreed to would go a long way to making me more comfortable."

Bojack considered my statement, his dark, overlarge eyes unreadable. "Intention is as important as action. You cannot violate the contract by accident. But if you set your will against mine, your System will respond."

"Wait, you know about Systems? Do demons have them too?"

He let out an exaggerated breath. "A System is a means of structuring magic. They are a tool more common to Harmony than to Discord. Our power is fluid, but it is still bound by rules. If you become a loyal servant of the One Who Knocks, I will freely share with you what I know of the nature of things. For now, remove yourself from that surface, unless you wish to become trapped within it."

I got up. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting the demons to be like. The monsters were mindless or at the level of animals. Beleth might as well have been a human with a cat's face, and aside from his appearance, Bojack felt very human to me as well. Evil might not have been the right word for him. He was amoral.

Bojack had no limits on his behavior. He could be cruel or kind, whatever suited the situation. I didn't think he was a sadist. The way he had talked about killing me, torturing me, it was like he was referencing a day-to-day task at a boring job. Moral values, moral boundaries, meant nothing to him.

The line between amorality and evil is thin enough that most people probably wouldn't bother differentiating between them, but the distinction has predictive value. Bill was pure evil. Eating people made him happy, and there was no common ground between us. He couldn't be reasoned with. Bojack, however, had a clearly defined motivation which he was pursuing in a rational manner.

That was something I could work with.

While I thought about this, the demon was busily casting a spell. His incantation was guttural and grating, and a series of hand signs accompanied it. He could issue mental commands to the mobs, but in the terms of Dungeons and Dragons, his spells involved both verbal and somatic components. A limitation.

The diamond case parted like water, the crystal surging to either side and reforming into a pair of pillars on either side of the Anchor. The troll that had appeared during our conversation knuckled over to pick up the obsidian cube.

"How does it work?" I asked. "How did you change my spawn point?"

Bojack's horse-lips raised in something that I could not in good conscience call a smile. "I will not share its secrets with you. You would only use that knowledge to escape. As long as this Anchor exists, you will return to it every time you are reborn."

"What if it breaks?"

"This is an official command. You are never to strike, harvest, or otherwise attempt to damage or destroy this Anchor."

"Got it." What if I had someone else break it? Was that covered by his edict? Asking would only cause him to make the order even more specific. He'd said intention mattered, so enlisting Gastard to smash it up would almost certainly trigger my curse. Was he even alive? If Esmelda had been captured, the outlook wasn't good for my friend. He would have defended Esmelda with his life.

"If we move quickly," Bojack said, "we can reach the Wastes by the next sunset."

"The Wastes?" We were already in Dargoth. That would go in the wrong direction. "Is Kevin in the Free Kingdoms?"

"No, but the resources we need are."

"Is Esmelda in Henterfell? Will you let me see her?"

"After you have taken the Throne of Shadows, you are free to be reunited with your mate. Until then, do not pursue her."

"You're a dick, Bojack."

"She is safe. That is all you need to know."

That was absolutely not all I needed to know, but it wasn't like I could beat the information out of him.

"What resources are we talking about?"

"As you are now, you will never be able to face the Dark Lord. But the power of Survivors is in their panoply. You are not skilled enough to craft what you need, but those who came before left some of their weapons behind. The armor you found, I know a way to retrieve it."

"I told you about that?" It must have been a previous life.

"You did." He motioned toward the re-solidified diamonds. "If the runes that protect it are as potent as I suspect, I cannot command the crystals that surround it as I do these. There is, however, another way. An atreanum tool will disrupt any runic formation that a human could craft."

"What's atreanum?"

"A rare material. To collect it, you will have to use the gate left in those same ruins."

My heart dropped. Somehow, going head-to-head with Kevin had seemed less daunting than the idea of visiting the place where monsters came from. The tasks I had to complete before I got to see Esmelda again were already compounding. The tines of her ornament were pressing into my palm.

"I don't know how to activate it."

"It is a minor matter." Bojack began walking toward the exit, the troll following him automatically. "All it requires is blood."