The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 650: Getting along famously



Mason put his hand on the elder eagle’s head and closed his eyes. It hadn’t been hard to convince it, in the end.

He’d immediately sensed the patriarch knew its time was near, that one of its sons should lead the families of the peak. It had been looking for an excuse to step down and hand over the reigns. Some sign, maybe, just like men, that a higher power had some grander purpose in mind.

“Following me means a great battle,” Mason explained. “It means a war with…unnatural creatures.”

I have seen many such things of late near my mountain, the elder said, as if unafraid. None have survived my blades.

Mason saw nothing but eagerness. In the elder eagle he sensed a thing like an ancient viking warrior, thrilled for a last chance to enter the halls of the brave with a glorious death in battle. He decided they’d get along famously.

Then with Kitya’s help, he’d activated some beast master power that would speed up the bonding process. His Essence of the Wolf flared, and he’d approached the huge eagle and put his hand on its head.

He closed his eyes, using One with Nature to try and meld with the creature as he had with great trees. Kitya whispered in the eagle’s ear, trying to coach it somehow.

“Show him who you are, honored elder,” he heard her say. “And he will show you the same.”

The world vanished and changed as it once had with Eve and some of the great trees. He watched the eagle’s life flicker before his mind’s eye in some rapidly improved speed.

He saw it leap from the nest and fly. Saw it leave its family, going far across the continent to claim its own territory, fight off rivals, and claim a mate. He felt his own heart race when he watched it hunt, and teach every living thing near the mountains to fear the skies.

You are a mighty warrior, the elder said to him, eyes staring far away as if it could still see its own visions. It will be an honor to shred your enemies, and drop them to the rocks.

Their gaze locked, the eagle’s golden eyes burning into Mason’s like the sun god’s gaze. The sound of his own pulse roared in his ears, mixing with the sound of rushing air and a challenging screech.

[Animal companion bonded: Elder Noble Eagle. New forms detected. Affinity possible, further bonding required.]

Mason saw new forms and felt little hairs rising all over his body. He almost shape shifted right there. The urge to spread his limbs and leap off the mountain was like some involuntary tick he couldn’t control for long.

He glanced at Kitya, who seemed to sense the problem and looked out over the forest and plains and bit her lip in thought.

Breaker disturbed the moment. He sent all the eagles all flapping and screeching as he finally flopped onto the peak, his mouth frothing with effort.

I’m here…Unbroken. Another…mountain…climbed.

“Good work.” Mason grinned at him. “Now go ahead and climb back down, we’re heading home.”

The giant bear stared with disbelief, glancing off the mountainside with a shudder. Even Streak (who’d arrived somewhat more stealthily and easily a little earlier) didn’t look impressed.

Mason laughed and banished both animals back to Nassau with his unsummon power. Then he stood and stared off the nearest cliff, feeling the eagle, whose name was now a screech he could somehow understand. It sounded a little like ‘Shawk’.

A first flight is beautiful, the elder told him, clattering across the stone as it settled on a perch. There is nothing else but a first child that brings as much pleasure.

It quirked its head at him as if in question, waiting for him to be sensible.

“It isn’t my first.”

Mason smiled, but he knew this was going to be nothing like his hastily Transformed wings. He took a few deep breaths, then opened Wild Shape. It had given him a full-on fucking ‘eagle’ form, and another ‘hybrid’.

He was about to click the latter when he stopped and stared. He’d never actually used a ‘full’ form of a wolf. Something about it always frightened him away, but he couldn’t explain why. It was a thing he needed to overcome.

“Fuck it.”

First flight, he thought. No time to hold back. With the now familiar fear of losing himself in this insane new world, he activated a full shift.

Just as with his hybrid form, it felt like a long-overdue stretch. He groaned and held out his arms, body contorting as it twisted and re-shaped and changed.

His arms grew longer, and longer, sprouting feathers as his legs curled and pulled up and grew greenish black talons that literally glowed with Cerebus’ power.

He laughed with a shriek, spreading his wings as he leapt off the mountainside and took to the air.

‘Shawk’ followed, calling to the others. In a few seconds every male in the family had spread out and started circling, shrieking encouragement as Mason rose and fell on the wind.

It was…easy. Natural. Like he’d been flying his whole life. He shrieked a challenge at the others and dove, thrilled when the younger males all answered and followed. Then they were twirling and soaring out over the trees, some sixth sense helping him find the rising air and when to extend his wings.

It wasn’t like Streak and the wolves. These eagles weren’t pack animals and he felt no urge to hunt or measure himself against them. They were his brothers, delighting in the flight, in the game, in another member of the family. A kind of pure and simple joy.

They took turns moving lower, daring the others with acrobatic dives through the tops of the trees. One of the youths finally hit a branch with a talon and went up with a curse, and all the eagles squawked and howled with laughter as they rose. They flew on, circling the family’s territory because they could, stealing glances at the silent but smiling elder. And for a little while, Mason forgot the world entirely.

It was dark when he returned and landed next to the nest. An elf he vaguely remembered was huddled against some of the female eagles under an overcoat. She looked like one of their chicks struggling to stay warm. For a moment he just quirked his head and stared, trying to remember why she was there at all.

“M-mason?”

She sat up shivering with blue lips and met his eyes, and it started coming back.

Kitya. A beast master. His beast master. Because he was a man and not an eagle of the White-top Mountains. He was a king and a druid and the whole world needed him to protect it from destruction.

He sighed as he shifted, the same lovely sensation of his body taking a long neglected position.

It made him finally realize why it felt so good—the transformation. A rare carrot in a game filled with sticks. The urge to shift again, that little hit of dopamine—it was a kind of protection from never becoming a man again.

He was naked after his shift, but the thought hardly registered to him these days. He stepped down into the eagle family’s nest, and went under Kitya’s overcoat without a word. He pulled her to his chest and activated Inner Fire, angry at himself for not considering the coldness of the season and the mountain air.

“I’m sorry I left you,” he said, pulling the elf as close as possible to keep her warm. “Once you’re a little warmer, we’ll go back to the fey and Nassau.”

She nodded, mumbling something about it being OK and that she understood. His dick twitched at the contact but he was so embarrassed at leaving her he easily crushed it down with pure will.

“These eagles are amazing,” he told her a little while later, looking over his profile. “Finding them might make a huge difference in the battle ahead. You’ve made a big difference here, Kitya.”

“I’m glad, lord,” she said, squeezing him tighter.

Her body was impossible not to feel. Kitya wore much more ‘normal’ clothes than most of the other elves. Practical, warmer fabrics instead of the ridiculous silk-like dresses. But the softness of her breasts was still clear through her shirt. And her long hair draped down his neck and shoulders and sent a shudder through him.

“You don’t have to call me lord,” he said. “Mason is fine. Are you getting warmer now?”

“Yes. A little. Mason…?” She sat up and looked into his eyes. “Do you…not find me pleasing?”

His brain chose that moment to abandon him. He opened and closed his mouth, looking for some balance between ‘I find you very pleasing’ and ‘I am fucking way too many women’ and ‘I apologize for currently being pressed up against you naked, I can see how that might send the wrong message’.

“I know I’m not like the other women.” Kitya looked down at his chest. “My kin come from the prime. I wasn’t born in Shariss. My family lived in the ancient way, nomads moving across the world. Many of us have darker skin, our features are…”

“You’re very attractive,” he cut her off. “I mean any man would be lucky to…I just thought…I’m trying to…make things more…to make sure everyone has wives and husbands and that I’m not…” he trailed off with a shrug, hardly even sure what he was saying.

“Oh.” Kitya nodded, like she understood. “You mean you would take me for a concubine, but you thought I’d prefer a husband.”

He shrugged helplessly, figuring that was…pretty much right. On top of all the other reasons. Kitya smiled and met his eyes again, looked shy but…pleased.

“I don’t want to be a wife, lord. I want to tend your beasts and serve you wherever you go. I’m not like the others. I’m meant for the wilds of the prime, not palace beds. That was why I came with the House of Anshan in the first place.”

This was not moving in the direction of ‘polite refusal’ yet…

“You weren’t sworn to them before?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t notice the stiffening rod pressed against her thigh. She shook her head.

“I didn’t really believe…my people have many gods.” Her beautiful face darkened, but she took a breath and shrugged it away. “We knew we’d been cursed, though my people weren’t to blame. We would have died without the wizards of the portal city. But I was never truly one of them.”

Mason ran out of things to say, more and more aware he was pressed against the beautiful elf. And naked. And that she was…interested? Had she actually said that?

He was trying to figure out if he’d possibly misinterpreted ‘I don’t want to be a wife’ or something else she’d said when soft lips pressed against his. He froze, and she mostly just pressed her skin against his, not seeming to know what else to do.

“I…apologize.” She said, pulling away after the chaste kiss and looking shy again. “I didn’t mean to…assume. I’ve just…wanted to do that. I know you’ve not agreed to anything formal. Maybe we should…”

He kissed her back, hating himself a little but also accepting what he was. Mostly he hoped the eagles didn’t mind.


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