The Gentleman's Agony

The eastern border of the kingdom had always been a place of transition—rolling hills giving way to the jagged peaks of the Valdris mountains, fertile farmland gradually becoming rocky terrain. Fort Meridian sat at the narrowest point of the border pass, a massive stone structure that had stood for three hundred years.

Now, three days after the Valdris attack, it looked like a wound in the landscape.

Captain Helena Voss stood on the fort's damaged battlements, surveying the destruction with a tactical eye. The void magic had left strange scars—places where stone had simply ceased to exist, creating gaps in the walls that defied normal physics. Where the magic had struck bonds, there were darker marks. Bloodstains that wouldn't wash away, shadows that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at them.

"It's unnatural," said Lieutenant Gareth Stone, Helena's second-in-command. He was a veteran of the border patrol, a man who'd seen his share of magical combat. But this had shaken him. "Magic shouldn't work like this. It shouldn't be able to just... erase things."

"Valdris has been experimenting for years." Helena moved along the battlements, noting the damage patterns. "While we were reforming our system, making it more humane, they were making theirs more deadly."

"Do you think we made a mistake?" Gareth's question was quiet, almost ashamed. "Focusing on ethics instead of power?"

Helena turned to face him sharply. "No. Never think that. The old system was killing us slowly. Valdris is trying to kill us quickly. I'll take the quick death over the slow one any day."

"But if we'd kept the old system, maybe we'd be stronger. Maybe we could fight this void magic."

"Or maybe we'd have lost half our Proxies to the old system's brutality and be even weaker." Helena's voice was firm. "We made the right choice, Gareth. Now we have to figure out how to defend it."

A shout from below drew their attention. A patrol was returning, and they were carrying someone. Helena descended quickly, Gareth at her heels.

The patrol laid their burden on a makeshift stretcher—a young woman in Valdris military colors, barely conscious, her body covered in strange burns. But what caught Helena's attention was the woman's eyes. They were completely black, like pools of void.

"We found her half a mile from the border," the patrol leader reported. "She was trying to crawl back to Valdris. Kept muttering about 'the price' and 'the hunger.'"

Helena knelt beside the woman, careful not to touch her directly. The void magic emanating from her was palpable, making Helena's skin crawl. "Can you hear me? What's your name?"

The woman's black eyes focused on Helena with difficulty. "Mara. Mara Blackwood. I was... I was a mage. Before."

"Before what?"

"Before they changed us." Mara's voice was a rasp, each word seeming to cost her. "The void magic. It's not just a weapon. It's a transformation. They take mages and... and they hollow us out. Fill us with emptiness. Make us into living weapons."

Helena felt ice in her veins. "How many? How many of you are there?"

"Hundreds. Maybe thousands." Mara coughed, and black liquid leaked from her mouth. "They've been preparing for years. Every mage who showed promise, every soldier with magical talent. They offered us power, and we took it. We didn't know... we didn't know what it would cost."

"What did it cost?" Gareth asked, his voice tight.

"Everything." Mara's laugh was bitter and broken. "Our humanity. Our connections. Our souls, maybe. The void magic doesn't just break bonds. It consumes them. Feeds on them. And the more it feeds, the stronger it gets. The hungrier."

"Why are you telling us this?" Helena demanded. "Why betray Valdris?"

"Because I'm dying." Mara's black eyes welled with tears that looked like ink. "The void is eating me from the inside. All of us, all the void mages—we're dying. Slowly. Painfully. And Valdris doesn't care. They'll just make more of us. Keep feeding people to the void until they win or run out of bodies."

"How do we fight it?" Helena leaned closer. "The void magic. How do we defend against it?"

"You can't." Mara's voice was fading. "Not with normal magic. The void consumes everything. Shared Bonds, old bonds, it doesn't matter. It eats them all. The only thing that might work is..."

"What? The only thing that might work is what?"

But Mara's eyes had gone glassy. Her breathing stopped. And as Helena watched in horror, the woman's body began to dissolve—not decay, but actually dissolve, turning into black smoke that dissipated into the air.

Within seconds, there was nothing left but a stain on the ground and the lingering smell of something burnt and wrong.

"Gods above," Gareth whispered. "What have they done to themselves?"

Helena stood slowly, her mind racing. This changed everything. Valdris wasn't just using a new type of magic. They were transforming their own people into weapons, sacrificing their humanity for power. And if Mara was right, if the void magic consumed all types of bonds...

"Get me a messenger bird," Helena ordered. "The fastest one we have. The Queen needs to know about this immediately."

The message reached the palace by nightfall, carried by a bird that had been pushed to its limits. Elara read it three times, each reading making her stomach sink further.

"They're turning their own people into weapons," she said, passing the message to Silas. "Sacrificing their humanity for power."

Silas read quickly, his expression darkening. "And the void magic consumes all bonds. Not just Shared Bonds. All of them."

"Which means reverting to the old system won't help." Elara moved to the window, staring out at the city. "We're not just fighting an army. We're fighting a fundamentally different kind of magic."

"There has to be a defense." Silas joined her at the window. "Magic always has a counter. We just need to find it."

"Before Valdris invades with an army of void mages." Elara's voice was bitter. "How do you fight something that consumes magic itself?"

A knock at the door interrupted them. Professor Aldric entered, followed by Kael Thorne. The young instructor looked nervous but determined.

"Your Majesty, Lord Vane." Aldric bowed slightly. "Young Kael has a theory about the void magic. I thought you should hear it."

"Please." Elara gestured for them to sit. "Any insight would be welcome right now."

Kael pulled out his notebook, his hands shaking slightly as he opened it. "I've been thinking about what Captain Voss reported. About the void magic consuming bonds. And I think I understand why."

"Explain." Silas leaned forward, his full attention on the young man.

"Bonds are connections, right? Magical pathways between two people. They work because both parties contribute energy, create a flow." Kael sketched quickly as he talked. "But what if the void magic doesn't attack the people? What if it attacks the connection itself? The space between?"

"Go on." Aldric's expression was thoughtful.

"Think of a bond like a bridge. The Proxy is one side, the noble is the other, and the magic flows across. Void magic doesn't destroy the bridge—it removes the ground beneath it. It creates actual void, actual nothingness, in the space where the connection exists."

Elara felt a chill. "So the bond doesn't break. It just... ceases to exist."

"Exactly." Kael's excitement was growing, overcoming his nervousness. "And when the connection ceases to exist, the magic that was flowing through it has nowhere to go. It backlashes into both parties, killing them."

"That's why both Proxy and noble die," Silas said slowly. "The magic rebounds."

"But here's the thing." Kael flipped to another page. "If the void magic attacks the connection, the space between, then the defense isn't to strengthen the bond. It's to eliminate the space."

"That's impossible," Aldric said flatly. "The space between is fundamental to how bonds work. Without it, there's no connection at all."

"Unless the connection isn't between two people." Kael looked up, his eyes bright. "Unless it's within one person."

Silence fell over the room as the implications sank in. Elara felt her mind racing, trying to grasp what Kael was suggesting.

"You're talking about self-bonding," Silas said finally. "Making the Proxy and noble into a single magical entity."

"Not permanently. Just temporarily, for combat." Kael's words came faster now. "If there's no space between, no gap for the void to exploit, then the void magic can't work. It would be like trying to cut water—there's nothing to cut."

"That's insane," Aldric said, but his tone was more thoughtful than dismissive. "Self-bonding is theoretical. We've never successfully achieved it."

"Because we've never needed to." Kael met the professor's eyes. "But the theory is sound. If two people could merge their magical signatures completely, become temporarily indistinguishable from each other, they'd be immune to void magic."

"The cost would be enormous," Silas said quietly. "Merging two magical signatures, even temporarily, would require perfect synchronization. Perfect trust. And the strain on both parties..."

"Would be brutal," Kael finished. "I know. But it might be survivable. And it might be our only option."

Elara looked at Silas, feeling through their bond his mixture of hope and fear. Fifteen years of connection had made them closer than any other bonded pair in the kingdom. If anyone could achieve self-bonding, it would be them.

But the bond was already degrading. Adding this kind of strain might shatter it completely.

"How would it work?" Elara asked. "Practically. What would we need to do?"

Kael pulled out more sketches. "The theory is based on resonance. Right now, your bond is like two instruments playing in harmony. For self-bonding, you'd need to play the exact same note. Same frequency, same amplitude, same everything."

"Which requires?" Silas prompted.

"Complete openness. No barriers, no shields, no separation at all." Kael's expression was serious. "You'd need to share everything. Thoughts, memories, emotions, pain. Become literally one person for the duration of the bond."

"And when it ends?" Elara felt her heart racing. "When we separate again?"

"That's the dangerous part." Aldric spoke up. "Separating after that level of merger could cause psychological damage. Identity confusion. In extreme cases, complete personality dissolution."

"You're talking about losing ourselves," Silas said flatly.

"I'm talking about saving the kingdom," Kael countered. "And yes, the risk is enormous. But if Valdris invades with an army of void mages, and we have no defense, we lose anyway. At least this gives us a chance."

Elara stood, moving to the window again. Outside, the city was peaceful, unaware of the threat gathering at the borders. Fifteen years of peace, of building and reforming. All of it about to be tested.

"We need to test it," she said finally. "Not on us, not yet. But we need to know if it's even possible."

"I volunteer." Kael stood as well. "Adrian and I—my bonded partner—we're willing to try. Our bond is strong, and we're young enough to recover if something goes wrong."

"Absolutely not," Aldric said firmly. "You're one of our best instructors. We can't risk you on an untested theory."

"Then who?" Kael challenged. "Who else has both the theoretical knowledge and a strong enough bond to attempt this?"

"I'll do it." Marcus Thorne's voice came from the doorway. He entered the room, Lord Pemberton at his side. "Pemberton and I have been bonded for twenty years. If anyone can achieve self-bonding, it's us."

"Marcus—" Kael started.

"No." Marcus's voice was firm. "You're right that this needs to be tested. But you're wrong that you should be the one to test it. You're the future, Kael. Let the old generation take the risks."

Lord Pemberton nodded. "We've been discussing this since we heard about the void magic. If there's a way to fight it, we need to find it. And we're willing to be the test subjects."

Elara looked at the two men—Marcus, who had been part of the first Shared Bond pilot program, and Pemberton, who had been one of the first nobles to embrace reform. They'd spent twenty years building a partnership that had become legendary. And now they were willing to risk it all.

"If you're sure," she said quietly.

"We're sure." Marcus smiled at his son. "Besides, someone needs to show you young people how it's done."

"Then we begin tomorrow." Aldric's voice was heavy. "I'll need time to prepare the ritual space, gather the necessary components. And we'll need monitors—other bonded pairs to observe and intervene if something goes wrong."

"I'll be there," Silas said. "If this works, I need to understand how. Because if Valdris invades, Elara and I will need to use it."

Through the bond, Elara felt his determination and his fear. They both knew what this meant. If self-bonding was their only defense against void magic, they would have to use it. And using it might destroy them.

But not using it would definitely destroy the kingdom.

The next morning, the ritual chamber beneath the palace was prepared. It was a circular room carved from solid stone, its walls covered in magical inscriptions that had been laid down centuries ago. The air hummed with latent power.

Marcus and Pemberton stood in the center of the circle, facing each other. Around them, a dozen other bonded pairs sat in observation positions, ready to intervene if the ritual went wrong. Silas and Elara were among them, their bond open and attentive.

Kael stood at the edge of the circle with Professor Aldric, his notebook ready. This was his theory, his innovation. If it failed, people might die.

"Are you ready?" Aldric asked Marcus and Pemberton.

"As ready as we'll ever be," Pemberton said. His usual aristocratic composure was strained, but his voice was steady.

"Remember," Kael called out. "You need to lower all barriers. Share everything. Become one person."

"Easy to say," Marcus muttered, but he smiled at Pemberton. "Ready, old friend?"

"Always." Pemberton took Marcus's hands. "Let's show them how it's done."

The bond between them flared to life, visible as a blue glow connecting their chests. For twenty years, they'd maintained this connection, this partnership. Now they were going to push it further than anyone had ever gone.

Marcus opened himself completely, dropping every shield, every barrier he'd built over a lifetime. He felt Pemberton do the same, felt the noble's consciousness rushing toward his own like a wave.

And then they collided.

Silas watched through his own bond-enhanced senses as Marcus and Pemberton's magical signatures began to merge. It was like watching two colors blend, two sounds harmonize. The blue glow of their bond intensified, shifting through shades of purple and white.

"It's working," Aldric breathed. "They're actually achieving resonance."

But Silas could see the cost. Both men were shaking, sweat pouring down their faces. Their expressions shifted rapidly—Marcus's face showing Pemberton's aristocratic composure, Pemberton's showing Marcus's street-hardened determination. They were bleeding into each other, becoming something new.

"How long can they hold it?" Elara whispered.

"Not long," Silas said. "Look at the strain."

The bond between Marcus and Pemberton was no longer blue. It had turned white, so bright it hurt to look at directly. And in that white light, Silas could see something else—the two men were no longer separate. Their magical signatures had merged completely, becoming a single entity.

"Now," Aldric commanded. "Test the void resistance."

One of the observing mages, a specialist in combat magic, raised her hand. A small tendril of void magic—carefully controlled, barely a fraction of what Valdris would use—extended toward the merged bond.

The void magic touched the white light and... stopped. It couldn't find purchase, couldn't find the gap between Proxy and noble that it needed to exploit. Because there was no gap. There was only one unified being.

"It works," Kael said, his voice filled with awe. "It actually works."

But then Marcus screamed.

The sound was inhuman, a mixture of two voices crying out in perfect unison. The white light flickered, and Silas saw cracks forming in the merged signature. The strain was too much. They were breaking apart.

"Separate them!" Aldric shouted. "Now!"

The observing mages acted in concert, their combined magic forcing Marcus and Pemberton apart. The white light shattered, and both men collapsed to the floor.

Silas rushed forward with Elara, checking for signs of life. Marcus was breathing, barely. Pemberton was unconscious but stable. But both of them were changed—Silas could see it in their magical signatures. They'd been merged, and the separation had left scars.

"Will they recover?" Elara asked Aldric.

"I don't know." The professor knelt beside Marcus, his hands glowing with diagnostic magic. "They achieved self-bonding. They proved it's possible. But the cost..."

"Was worth it." Marcus's voice was weak, but clear. His eyes opened, focusing on Kael. "It works, son. Your theory works. We just need to figure out how to make it sustainable."

"Don't talk." Kael was at his father's side, tears streaming down his face. "Save your strength."

"No time." Marcus gripped Kael's hand. "Valdris won't wait. You need to refine the technique. Make it safer. Because this is how we win. This is how we fight the void."

Pemberton stirred, his eyes opening. "Marcus is right. It works. But we can only hold it for seconds, maybe a minute at most. After that, the strain is too much."

"A minute might be enough," Silas said quietly. "If we can train people to merge, fight, and separate quickly. Use it in bursts rather than sustained combat."

"That's the key." Aldric stood, his expression thoughtful despite the crisis. "Self-bonding as a tactical tool, not a permanent state. Quick mergers for specific attacks or defenses, then immediate separation."

"Can it be taught?" Elara asked. "Can we train our forces to do this?"

"I don't know," Kael admitted. "But we have to try. Because if we can't, Valdris wins."

Marcus and Pemberton were carried to the infirmary, their conditions stable but concerning. The self-bonding had worked, but it had also damaged them in ways that would take time to understand.

As the ritual chamber emptied, Silas and Elara remained behind. They stood in the center of the circle where Marcus and Pemberton had merged, feeling the residual magic in the air.

"We'll have to do this," Elara said quietly. "When Valdris invades. We'll have to self-bond."

"I know." Silas took her hand, feeling the bond pulse between them. "And our bond is already damaged. Adding this strain might destroy it completely."

"Then we make sure it counts." Elara turned to face him. "If we're going to risk everything, we make sure it's for something that matters."

Through the bond, Silas felt her determination, her love, and her acceptance of what was coming. They'd always known their story might end in sacrifice. Now they knew what form that sacrifice would take.

"Together," he said softly.

"Always together," she agreed.

And in the depths of the bond they shared, something shifted. A preparation, perhaps. A readiness for what was to come.

The warning had been given. The test had been conducted. Now came the hard part—preparing for war against an enemy that could consume magic itself.

And hoping that when the time came, they would be ready to pay the price.

End of Chapter 3

End of Chapter 29