The Gentleman's Agony

The Northern Kingdoms had always been fractious—five separate realms united more by geography than politics. But they'd all supported Elara's reforms, seeing in the Shared Bond system a path to their own modernization. Now, as Valdris threatened invasion, it was time to see if that support translated into military alliance.

Silas stood in the palace's grand council chamber, watching as representatives from each kingdom filed in. Queen Meredith of Frostholm, tall and severe, her silver hair braided with ice crystals. King Aldric of Ironpeak, broad-shouldered and practical, his hands scarred from working his own forges. Princess Lyanna of Silverwood, young and idealistic, her Proxy standing proudly at her side. Lord Regent Thaddeus of Stormwatch, representing his young nephew the king. And finally, High Priestess Celeste of the Sacred Isles, whose kingdom had no formal ruler but was governed by a council of magical practitioners.

Elara sat at the head of the table, her crown catching the light. Silas stood at her right hand, their bond a visible glow between them—a deliberate display of the system they were asking these kingdoms to defend.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Elara began. "I know the journey was difficult."

"We came because Valdris threatens us all," Queen Meredith said bluntly. She'd never been one for diplomatic niceties. "If they conquer you, we're next. Better to fight together than fall separately."

"Pragmatic as always, Meredith." King Aldric smiled slightly. "But she's right. Valdris has been expanding for years. Your kingdom is just the first target."

"Then you'll commit troops?" Silas asked directly.

"That depends." Princess Lyanna leaned forward. "We need to understand what we're facing. Your message mentioned void magic, but the details were sparse."

Elara nodded to Professor Aldric, who stood and moved to a large board covered in diagrams. "Void magic is unlike anything we've encountered before. It doesn't attack people directly—it attacks the bonds between them. It creates actual emptiness in the space where magical connections exist."

"And when the connection is severed?" Lord Regent Thaddeus asked.

"Both Proxy and noble die." Aldric's voice was grim. "The magic backlashes into both parties. We've seen it at Fort Meridian. Forty-three casualties, most of them bonded pairs."

The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Every person present was either bonded or worked closely with bonded pairs. The void magic threatened them all.

"How do we defend against it?" High Priestess Celeste's voice was calm, but Silas could see the concern in her eyes.

"We've developed a technique called self-bonding." Kael Thorne stepped forward, his youth making him seem out of place among the assembled rulers. But his voice was confident. "It involves temporarily merging the magical signatures of Proxy and noble into a single entity. With no space between them, the void magic can't find purchase."

"Temporarily merging?" Queen Meredith's eyes narrowed. "That sounds dangerous."

"It is." Marcus Thorne spoke from his position near the wall. He was still recovering but had insisted on attending. "My partner and I tested it. The strain is enormous. But it works. And we've discovered that younger bonds can achieve it more safely."

"How much training does it require?" King Aldric was already thinking tactically.

"That's the problem." Kael pulled out his notes. "Ideally, months. Realistically, we have weeks. We're developing accelerated training protocols, but there will be risks."

"There are always risks in war." Princess Lyanna stood, moving to examine Aldric's diagrams. "The question is whether the risks of fighting are greater than the risks of surrender. And I think we all know the answer to that."

"Valdris uses the old Proxy system," Elara said. "Brutal, one-sided bonds that treat Proxies as property. If they win, everything we've built—the Shared Bond system, the reforms, the academies—all of it disappears. We return to a world where Proxies are slaves."

"Not just Proxies." High Priestess Celeste's voice was soft but carried weight. "Valdris's void magic requires sacrifice. They're turning their own mages into weapons, consuming them from the inside. If they conquer us, they'll do the same to our people. Our children will be fed to the void."

"Then we fight." Queen Meredith's voice was flat, final. "Frostholm will commit five thousand troops. Half of them bonded pairs trained in our own version of the Shared Bond system."

"Ironpeak will match that." King Aldric nodded. "And we'll open our forges to produce weapons and armor for the alliance."

"Silverwood commits three thousand." Princess Lyanna's voice was steady. "And I'll lead them personally. This is our fight too."

"Stormwatch will send two thousand, plus our naval forces." Lord Regent Thaddeus looked troubled. "Though I must warn you—my nephew's council is divided. Some believe we should negotiate with Valdris rather than fight."

"There's nothing to negotiate." Silas's voice was hard. "Valdris wants us to abandon our principles or be destroyed. Those aren't terms. That's extortion."

"The Sacred Isles will contribute differently." High Priestess Celeste stood, her robes shimmering with subtle magic. "We have few soldiers, but many healers and theorists. We'll establish field hospitals and research centers. And we'll send our best magical practitioners to help train your forces in self-bonding."

Elara felt relief wash through her. Fifteen thousand troops, plus support from the Sacred Isles. It wasn't enough to match Valdris's numbers, but it was a start.

"There's one more thing." Queen Meredith's voice cut through the planning. "We need to discuss command structure. Five kingdoms, one war. Who leads?"

The room tensed. This was the question that had broken alliances before—who had ultimate authority when kingdoms fought together?

"Queen Elara should lead." Princess Lyanna spoke before anyone else could. "This is her kingdom under threat. Her reforms that inspired us all. And she has the most experience with the Shared Bond system."

"I agree." King Aldric nodded. "But we need a war council. Representatives from each kingdom with equal voice in strategy."

"And what about the Proxies?" Marcus Thorne's voice carried across the room. "We're the ones who'll be doing most of the fighting, bearing most of the cost. Don't we deserve representation?"

Silence fell. It was a radical suggestion—giving Proxies equal voice with nobles and royalty in military decisions. But it was also consistent with everything the Shared Bond system represented.

"Marcus is right." Elara stood, her voice firm. "This war is about defending a system that treats Proxies as partners, not property. If we don't include them in our decision-making, we're hypocrites. The war council will include representatives from each kingdom—both noble and Proxy."

"That's unprecedented," Lord Regent Thaddeus said, though he didn't sound opposed.

"So was the Shared Bond system." Silas smiled slightly. "We've built our entire alliance on unprecedented ideas. Why stop now?"

"Very well." Queen Meredith's voice held a note of approval. "Equal representation. Though I reserve the right to think this is insane."

"Noted." Elara allowed herself a small smile. "Now, let's discuss deployment. Captain Voss, if you would?"

Helena Voss stepped forward, unrolling a large map of the eastern border. "Valdris will likely attack in three waves. First, void mages to break our defensive bonds. Second, conventional forces to exploit the gaps. Third, occupation troops to hold territory."

"How do we counter that?" King Aldric studied the map.

"We don't meet them at the border." Helena's finger traced a line further west. "We fall back to the Meridian Valley. It's a natural chokepoint—they can't bring their full numbers to bear. And it gives us time to evacuate civilians from the border regions."

"You're talking about ceding territory." Lord Regent Thaddeus looked troubled.

"I'm talking about not getting slaughtered in the first engagement." Helena's voice was blunt. "Valdris has the numbers and the void magic. Our advantage is terrain and training. We use both."

"What about Fort Meridian?" Princess Lyanna asked. "Do we abandon it?"

"We hold it as long as possible, then conduct a fighting retreat." Helena pointed to several positions on the map. "We'll establish fallback positions here, here, and here. Each one designed to slow Valdris down, make them pay for every mile."

"A war of attrition." Queen Meredith nodded approvingly. "Bleed them slowly rather than dying quickly."

"Exactly." Helena looked to Elara. "But it only works if our people can learn self-bonding fast enough. If the void mages can still break our bonds, we lose."

"Then we make sure they can't." Kael stepped forward again. "I've been working on the training protocols. We can teach basic self-bonding in two weeks. Advanced techniques in four. It won't be perfect, but it'll be enough."

"Two weeks?" High Priestess Celeste looked skeptical. "Young man, magical techniques of this complexity usually take months to master."

"Usually, yes." Kael's voice was confident. "But we're not teaching from scratch. Everyone here already understands bonds. We're just teaching them to push those bonds further. And we have something previous generations didn't—a whole generation that grew up with the Shared Bond system. We understand partnership instinctively."

"He's right." Adrian Frost spoke up from beside Kael. "My partner and I achieved self-bonding on our first attempt. Held it for two minutes. The technique is learnable, especially for younger bonds."

"Then we start training immediately." Elara's voice took on the commanding tone that had led a kingdom through revolution. "Each kingdom will establish training centers. Kael and his team will rotate through them, teaching the technique. We have three weeks before Valdris's deadline. We use every moment."

The council continued late into the night, hammering out details of troop movements, supply lines, training schedules. By the time the representatives departed, a plan was in place. Not a perfect plan, but a workable one.

As the last delegate left, Silas found Elara standing alone in the council chamber, staring at the map of the eastern border.

"We're really doing this," she said quietly. "Going to war."

"We don't have a choice." Silas moved to stand beside her. "Valdris made sure of that."

"I keep thinking about all the people who are going to die." Elara's voice was hollow. "Soldiers, civilians, bonded pairs trying to learn self-bonding. How many will we lose?"

"Fewer than if we surrendered." Silas took her hand. "And they'll die fighting for something they believe in. That matters."

"Does it?" Elara turned to face him. "Does it matter to the families who lose loved ones? Does it matter to the Proxies who die learning a technique we're forcing them to master?"

"We're not forcing anyone." Silas's voice was gentle. "Every person who volunteers knows the risks. They're choosing to fight because the alternative is worse."

"I hope you're right." Elara leaned against him, exhausted. "I hope this is worth it."

Through the bond, Silas felt her doubt, her fear, her bone-deep weariness. Fifteen years of leadership had taken their toll. The bond degradation was accelerating. And now they were leading their kingdom into war.

"It will be worth it," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. "Because the alternative is returning to a world where Proxies are property. Where bonds are slavery. Where people like Marcus and Kael and all those brave students have no future."

"And if we lose?"

"Then we lose fighting for something beautiful." Silas held her closer. "That's all anyone can ask for."

The training began the next morning. In every major city, in every town with a bonded pair, training centers were established. Kael and his team of instructors traveled constantly, teaching the self-bonding technique to anyone who would learn.

The Academy became the central hub, its courtyard filled with bonded pairs attempting to merge their magical signatures. Some succeeded quickly. Others struggled. A few failed catastrophically, their bonds damaged by the attempt.

But slowly, steadily, the kingdom learned.

Mira Voss achieved self-bonding on her third attempt, holding it for ninety seconds before separating cleanly. Ren Ashford and Sera Blackwood managed it on their fifth try. Even Lily Chen, the youngest student, eventually succeeded, though she could only hold the merger for thirty seconds.

In Frostholm, Queen Meredith's bonded pairs trained in ice-covered courtyards, their merged signatures glowing blue-white against the snow. In Ironpeak, King Aldric's soldiers practiced in the forges, learning to self-bond while maintaining combat readiness. In Silverwood, Princess Lyanna led by example, achieving self-bonding with her Proxy and holding it for three full minutes.

The Sacred Isles sent their best healers, who established field hospitals along the planned retreat route. They also sent theorists who worked with Professor Aldric to refine the self-bonding technique, making it safer and more efficient.

But not everyone succeeded. Some bonds were too old, too rigid to achieve the necessary merger. Some Proxies and nobles couldn't overcome their ingrained habits, couldn't fully trust each other enough to merge completely.

And some died trying.

The first casualty was a middle-aged bonded pair from a rural province. They'd been bonded for ten years under the old system before the reforms, and the habits of that brutal relationship were too deeply ingrained. When they attempted self-bonding, their magical signatures clashed instead of merging. The backlash killed them both instantly.

Kael was there when it happened. He watched the light fade from their eyes, felt the bond shatter like glass. And he knew that their deaths were on him—his technique, his training, his failure to recognize that some bonds couldn't be saved.

"It's not your fault." Adrian found him that night, sitting alone in the Academy library. "They knew the risks."

"Did they?" Kael's voice was hollow. "Or did they just hear that self-bonding was necessary and try it without fully understanding what it required?"

"They understood." Adrian sat beside him. "I talked to them before the attempt. They knew it might kill them. But they also knew that if they didn't learn it, Valdris would kill them anyway. At least this way, they died trying to protect something."

"That doesn't make it better."

"No. But it makes it meaningful." Adrian took Kael's hand. "You're not responsible for every death, Kael. You're just trying to give people a chance to survive."

"Some chance." Kael gestured to his notes, covered in calculations and modifications. "We're asking people to risk their lives learning a technique that might kill them, to fight an enemy that can consume magic itself. What kind of chance is that?"

"The only one we have." Adrian's voice was firm. "And it's working. More people are succeeding than failing. The technique is spreading. We're building an army that can fight the void."

"An army of people who might die in training before they ever see combat."

"Yes." Adrian didn't soften the truth. "But they're dying for a choice. For the right to be treated as people instead of property. That's what the Shared Bond system means. That's what we're defending."

Kael wanted to argue, wanted to rage against the unfairness of it all. But Adrian was right. The people training in self-bonding knew the risks. They were choosing to take those risks because the alternative was worse.

"How many more?" Kael asked quietly. "How many more will die before we're ready?"

"I don't know." Adrian squeezed his hand. "But we keep training. We keep teaching. We keep giving people the tools to fight. That's all we can do."

Two weeks into the training, Silas and Elara attempted self-bonding for the first time.

They stood in the ritual chamber beneath the palace, the same room where Marcus and Pemberton had first proven the technique was possible. Professor Aldric monitored from the edge of the circle, his instruments ready to intervene if something went wrong.

"Are you ready?" Elara asked, her voice steady despite the fear Silas felt through the bond.

"No." Silas smiled slightly. "But we're doing it anyway."

They clasped hands, their bond flaring to life between them. Fifteen years of constant connection had made them closer than any other bonded pair in the kingdom. If anyone could achieve self-bonding safely, it should be them.

But the bond was damaged. The fractures were spreading. And adding the strain of self-bonding might shatter it completely.

"Together," Elara said softly.

"Always together," Silas agreed.

They opened themselves completely, dropping every barrier, every shield. Silas felt Elara's consciousness rushing toward his own, felt her thoughts and memories and emotions flooding into him.

And then they merged.

It was like coming home. Like finding a part of himself he hadn't known was missing. Elara's strength became his strength. Her determination became his determination. They were no longer two people connected by a bond. They were one person, unified and complete.

But the pain was immediate and intense. The damaged pathways in their bond screamed under the strain. The fractures widened, threatening to tear the whole structure apart.

"Hold it," Aldric's voice came from far away. "Just a few more seconds."

They held the merger for thirty seconds. Forty-five. A full minute. And then the pain became too much, and they separated.

Silas collapsed to his knees, gasping. Beside him, Elara was in similar condition, her face pale and drawn. Through the bond—now flickering and unstable—he felt her pain mirroring his own.

"The bond is critically damaged," Aldric said, his instruments glowing with diagnostic magic. "Multiple fractures. Severe strain on the primary pathways. If you attempt self-bonding again, there's a high probability of complete bond failure."

"How high?" Elara asked, her voice weak.

"Seventy percent. Maybe higher." Aldric's expression was grave. "Your Majesty, Lord Vane—I strongly recommend you do not attempt self-bonding in combat. The risk is too great."

"Noted." Silas pulled himself to his feet, helping Elara up. "But if the alternative is letting Valdris win, we'll take the risk."

"Even if it kills you both?"

"Especially if it kills us both." Elara's voice was stronger now. "We didn't build this kingdom just to watch it fall. If our deaths can help defend it, that's a price we're willing to pay."

Aldric looked like he wanted to argue, but he simply nodded. "Then I'll do everything I can to keep you alive when the time comes."

As they left the ritual chamber, Silas felt the bond struggling to maintain its connection. The self-bonding had accelerated the degradation significantly. They might have weeks left. Maybe days.

But they'd proven they could do it. They could self-bond, could fight the void magic. And when Valdris invaded, they would be ready.

Even if it cost them everything.

End of Chapter 5

End of Chapter 31