#falsebound kingdom

I've actually had this idea since at least 2017. In 2022, I attempted to design new outfits for the game world. Hm... Not really sure what I was going for here. I think the design on the left side was for Yami Yugi. The sleeping Yugi is a redraw of an older piece!

“Mrs. Smith, I brought you something to eat.” Walking over to her, I noticed her papers atop the crate glowed an eerie, pale blue—or rather, her writing contained a luminescent quality which I had never seen before.

“Thank you Hank. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She took the food with a rueful smile. Following my gaze to her papers, she explained, “It’s called Moonflower ink. Normally, you can’t see it at all, but under the light of the moon, it glows. I picked up a bottle earlier today.”

Tearing into her bread with unexpected ferocity, my employer ate like a woman who had neglected eating for a day—a habit which Mrs. Smith had the unfortunate habit of possessing. 

From the shadows, something stirred, and a humongous purple cat stepped into view. Walking on two legs like a man, and wearing fine, blue and gold armor, the monster stood at least a foot taller than any man I’d ever met. Mrs. Smith handed it some of her food, and the monster sat, beginning to eat with more finesse than the woman beside him.

“I reckon, one of these days, I’ll stop being startled by the presence of your monsters, Mrs. Smith.” 

“I am a Marshal, Hank. Forming a bond with monsters is my job in this world.” After a moment, she froze. With a heavy exhale, she set down her food, “What would my Thomas think if he saw me now? I’ve changed a great deal.”

“Your husband would say…” I paused, trying to capture Mr. Smith’s unusual way of speaking. “In the pale glow of the night’s lights, stars reflecting in your eyes, even the moon looks down in envy at my beloved wife, dreaming of stealing your beauty for herself.”

Mrs. Smith laughed, wrapping an arm around her stomach and throwing back her head. “Hank, that was terrible poetry!”

I grinned back at her, “I’m naught but a simple cowboy, Mrs. Smith. It’s your husband who’s the poet.” 

“Don’t belittle yourself, Hank, you’ve a better understanding of prose than many a man, even if your attempts at poetry are better left unwritten.”

Silence fell between us, as Mrs. Smith returned to her pages, jotting down notes in the margins of her work. After a while, she paused, “I miss him, Hank.”

“I know.” It looked as though she wished to say more, so I waited.

“I solved it. We should be able to open the Ancient Portal again, returning to Egypt.”

Of course the portal would return us to Egypt. Our trio had stumbled across it while separated from the rest of the expedition, so it would make sense if we returned to the place we left. However, the idea of finding ourselves in a desert, surrounded by ruins and scorpions, surely abandoned long ago by the rest of the party, failed to arouse my excitement at the prospect. 

“Hank, are you sure you wish to return?” My employer asked a question, rousing me from my musings.

Truth be told, I had misgivings. After a year spent in a kingdom in which the darkness of my skin held no relevance in the eyes of its inhabitants, the thought of returning to a land in which my parents had been enslaved as recently as thirty years back was daunting. However, my Mother was alone now, and I felt duty bound to return to her. “I’ll be alright, Mrs. Smith. We should return as soon as Richard returns from his expedition.”

She nodded, “I concur.”

Although I’m sure most of my readers are quite familiar with our third companion, for the sake of completeness, I will include a brief description of him in this narrative. Richard Clark was an American hunter of large game, with an impressive collection of trophies, and an equally impressive understanding of nature. While in Egypt, our archaeological expedition had hired him to protect us and guard anything of value we discovered. However, like Mrs. Smith and myself, he had become separated from the rest of the group in a sandstorm, discovered the portal, and found himself trapped on the other side in a Renaissance style world. Like my employer, Richard discovered he possessed the abilities of a Marshal, which meant he soon led a posse of monsters. The three of us found ourselves swept up in a series of adventures in which we aligned ourselves with the crown, fighting off invaders from the sea to protect the Kingdom. Now peace once again ruled the land, and Richard had returned his attention to hunting.

“What’s Richard after this time?”

Mrs. Smith shook her head, “One of the fabled white dragons of destruction.”

“He thinks he’ll be able to kill such a beast?”

“The Sapphire Vision cult believes the white dragons are gods, the people hold them to be mere legends, and the priesthood insists they are monsters capable of joining with a Marshal if only a man strong enough could be found.”

“Ah.” I pushed back my hat to look out over the parapets, “And Richard never says ‘no’ to a challenging hunt.”

“Indeed, it’s a great portion of his charm. I wonder if he will return tomorrow morning with a group of white dragons in tow.” 

“I’d love to see such creatures, if they exist.”

“As would I, but I’m concerned the Sapphire Vision cult will hardly be pleased with such an outcome.”

As I stared out into the dark, I thought I saw a darker shape quickly moving across the plains towards us. After I pointed it out to Mrs. Smith, we both peered into the night. Once the shadow grew closer, I realized, “It’s Richard and his monsters.” Leaning against the parapet, I added, “I don’t see any dragons, so he must not have—”

“Hank, there’s another group following him!”

Returning my gaze to the horizon, I saw she was right. 

“It’s the cult!”

Turning, I saw Mrs. Smith had raised a spyglass to see who was approaching.

“Hank, if the cult has set its sights on Richard, they won’t rest until he’s in their power.” She sounded worried.

“Then we’ll fight them off. You and Richard should be more than a match for a few cultists.”

Shaking her head, my employer sighed. “Richard’s monsters look so tired, I think they might collapse at any moment. We should make a run for it.” Without another word, she collapsed the spyglass and began gathering her papers. Running downstairs, she handed her pages to the flustered head merchant of the fortress. “If we’re caught, I don’t want these to fall into the hands of the cult. Please hide them for me.”

“Of course, my lady, I shall try my…” the merchant never bothered to finish his sentence as the two of us ran away from him. 

Mrs. Smith recalled her other two monsters to us as I saddled up a trio of horses. By the time Richard reached the fortress, we were waiting for him at the gate. While my employer explained we were outmatched by the cult racing towards us, I handed the few healing potions in our possession to Richard’s monsters, as the man himself took a moment to chug down fresh water from the well before mounting one of the horses I had saddled.

“Very well!” Richard looked exuberant, “I have fought against a dragon today, and can therefore leave this land, content I have seen all its wonders. Are you ready to leave, Lillian?”

Most people in the Kingdom had only one name, and few held titles. Adopting the local customs, Richard had taken to calling Mrs. Smith by her given name long ago, and requested the two of us call him by his first name as well. While such informality never came easily to me, it went rather well with Richard’s rakish personality, and it was hard to imagine he would easily readjust to the rigid formality of the world to which we were returning.

Calling to the nearby guards to bolt shut the gate after our departure, Mrs. Smith mounted her own horse. Moments later, three humans riding horses and six monsters burst forth from the fortress. We rode through the night, pushing back fatigue in an effort to reach the Ancient Portal as quickly as possible. 

Had Richard and I been alone, I’m sure we never would have found it, but Mrs. Smith was a most intelligent woman, well studied and capable of understanding the most difficult of puzzles. With deft assurance, she led us into a patch of hidden ruins, past devious traps, and into the heart of the monument which hid the Portal itself. Pausing a moment, she stared at the portal wishfully, “Perhaps one day we’ll return. I’m sure Thomas would love it here.” Squaring her shoulders, she touched a sequence of symbols carved into the base of the Ancient Portal, and it glowed to life.

Tears streamed down Richard’s face as he bid farewell to his monsters and mounted the steps to the Portal. “I’ll see you on the other side.” With a bright flash, and an unearthly sound, the man stepped through.