Leda and Miquella left Brea's house once they were ready and headed to the nearby homes in search of answers.
It was not an easy task. It was midday, and receiving an armed knight like Leda without warning did not always inspire confidence among the villagers. However, it was Miquella's appearance that finally opened their doors. His childlike look and ethereal beauty made everyone lower their guard.
Even so, Miquella felt disappointed for most of the walk. He did not wish to belittle these people for their lack of education, but their ignorance made gathering information extremely difficult. Fortunately, a handful of the few who were more knowledgeable managed to give him useful answers, such as confirming the existence of "Gondor" and "Rohan."
At last, Miquella confirmed what he already suspected: the place where he had found himself. And in doing so, his mind began to drift uncontrollably.
Leda watched in silence as her lord became trapped in thought, waiting patiently for his decision.
"Is this truly Middle-earth?"
It was the question that would not stop repeating in his mind. He already sensed it, but something inside him still resisted accepting it. His presence in this world, Brea's resurrection, a nameless unease gripping his chest… he did not know what to think of it.
Beyond that, there was another crucial doubt: in what age had he arrived?
Miquella could not call himself an expert on the matter. He knew The Lord of the Rings took place in the Third Age, but he was unclear on the exact point. He also recalled that the real world—or at least the modern era—should correspond roughly to the Seventh Age. By logic, he deduced that the First Age marked the beginning of this world. But his knowledge was too vague, and although he had been told the year he was in, he had no way of knowing whether it was near or far from the history he remembered.
If he had arrived after the events he recalled, everything would be much simpler. A time without great dangers beyond daily life in a fantastical world. With his power and knowledge, he could thrive here—build a business, acquire land, raise a palace… even marry.
Leda didn't look so bad…
But if he had arrived before… a great enemy would rise. Powerful. With an army of darkness.
If he were in his own world and at his peak, that idea would not have caused him fear. But here… he was weak, unsupported, accompanied only by his loyal knight. He felt vulnerable. The thought of never again being able to sleep peacefully pierced his mind like a thorn.
"I need to recover my power."
Leda observed him closely. Something was changing in him. The hesitation in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a growing determination.
It was the same gaze as before, the same certainty she had sworn to follow.
Without realizing it, she gripped the hilt of her sword tightly.
"Leda, we must depart," Miquella said, looking at the horizon.
"Where to, my lord?" she replied without hesitation.
"To Hobbiton."
Although he still did not know what age he was in, at least he knew the point where the stories he remembered began. It would be a good place to seek answers. True, places like Rohan or Gondor might be more fitting, but they were far too distant. And while Rivendell would be another option, he had no idea how to get there.
Leda did not fully understand where her lord meant, but that did not matter. Her duty was to follow him.
Without a map or precise knowledge of geography, Miquella relied on his memory. He did not know Hobbiton's exact location, but he knew it lay near Bree. That would be his first destination. Once there, they could ask for directions and continue their journey.
With that determination, they set out.
Before leaving, Miquella confirmed once more with the villagers the direction of Bree. He did not want to make the embarrassing mistake of taking the wrong road. Then, after spending the little they had left on a few extra supplies, the two were ready to leave.
They began their journey along the East Road… ironically heading in the opposite direction to its name.
The trek would be long, especially on foot. They had no horses nor any way to obtain one here, leaving them no choice but to walk.
It would be a long journey to the Shire, but a necessary one.
Trouble did not take long to appear during the journey, but it was not bandits, wolves, or orcs. No, the true obstacle turned out to be Miquella himself.
They had barely covered a few kilometers, not even ten, when he was already exhausted and sore, feeling as though he could not go on. Though they had managed to procure some crude footwear to protect his delicate feet, the roughness of the road still took its toll. Not even Brea's rune on his arm, which had strengthened his body, could prevent it. After all, he was no longer a demigod but a child—and one without the endurance he once had. The fatigue of the long march struck him far too quickly.
In contrast, Leda was perfectly fine. Despite carrying her armor, sword, and their supplies, she showed not the slightest sign of fatigue.
Faced with this, the two stopped to reconsider the journey. Miquella sat on a rock, massaging his aching feet, while Leda stood beside him, watching silently. They rested for about fifteen minutes, but the problem remained the same: continuing at this pace would make the journey unbearably long.
"I think I know how we can manage," he finally said, a faint trace of embarrassment in his voice. "If you don't mind helping me, that is."
"Never, my lord. What is your plan?" Leda answered, kneeling on one knee to be at his level.
"You see… after the battle of Aeonia, when my sister was defeated, her knight, Finlay, carried her all the way back to the Haligtree…" Miquella explained slowly, avoiding direct eye contact.
Leda's eyes widened in surprise.
"My… lord…" she murmured in doubt.
"If it isn't too much trouble… could you…?" asked Miquella, extending his arms with open hands and an innocently captivating, childlike gaze.
As a former adult, he felt some shame in asking Leda to carry him like a child, but her reaction caught him off guard. The moment he finished speaking and stretched out his arms, Leda froze completely. A faint tremor ran through her body, and Miquella noticed drops of blood falling from her nose as her face flushed red.
For a moment, he checked his shoulder, making sure it was still him carrying Brea's rune and not Leda.
The moment passed quickly, and Leda composed herself at once. She stood, cleared her throat, and tried to recover her solemn expression.
"It is my duty to serve you. Of course, I would be willing to carry you. Your burden is my burden," she said seriously.
"You're bleeding from your nose," Miquella remarked curiously.
"It's a healthy nosebleed, you need not worry about me, my lord. We must depart if we are to reach our destination," Leda replied firmly, clearly wishing to change the subject.
Miquella decided not to insist and focused on what mattered: continuing the path. Leda set aside the supply bag and bent slightly so her master could climb onto her back. It wasn't the most comfortable way to travel, but it was the safest.
With this new arrangement, they resumed their march. Everything was going well… until, just a few meters later, Miquella leaned his head toward Leda's ear and whispered:
"That blood you lost would've gone to your cock… if you had one."
And before she could react, he placed a kiss on the edge of her ear.
Leda nearly tripped from the shock, staggering dangerously. She had to summon superhuman effort to regain her balance and prevent her master from suffering any harm.
She didn't know how to deal with this new version of her lord. Before, Miquella had been a pure and innocent child… now, he swayed between that same child and a tempting, perverse creature in the span of seconds.
'This is going to be harder than I thought…'
Focusing on keeping her face emotionless, Leda maintained her composure for the rest of the journey. And, fortunately, her master stopped teasing her… for now.
They didn't advance as much as they could have under other circumstances, but the journey had begun. It would take longer than planned, and longer than it normally would for two people, yet neither of them minded—aside from the discomfort of the travel.
Miquella took the opportunity to continue exploring the mysteries of his ring. What he had done to Brea had opened many doors, and he hoped that, since he didn't have to walk on his own, he could use that time and energy to uncover more of its secrets. Leda, for her part, was simply happy to carry her master.
However, there were… inconveniences.
To optimize the journey, Miquella decided to temporarily lend Brea's rune to Leda. Though the effect was minimal, it would give her a little extra strength to bear his weight with ease.
But saying that this "small bonus" was worth it would've been a lie. For the noble knight, it was more like torture.
From the moment the rune's energy entered her body, just feeling the warm, slight weight of her master on her back made her heart pound violently. The sun heated the air, but nothing compared to how hot she felt during that trek. Her excitement was such that, without realizing, she pushed herself beyond her physical limits. When they finally stopped, she nearly collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and drenched in sweat.
To prevent further problems, Miquella decided to withdraw the rune from her body, planning to let her use it only when they were on the move. Leda, of course, considered this an act of cruelty.
She had to use part of their water supply to cool and rehydrate herself while her lord watched with a faint smile, asking no questions. In truth, he appreciated that Leda had managed to keep her emotions under control. He knew it hadn't been easy. She had relied on all her knightly discipline to keep darker thoughts from overtaking her.
For this devotion, Miquella gave her a sincere hug in gratitude. But for Leda… it almost broke her will instead of rewarding her.
That night they camped under the open sky, improvising a shelter with what little they had. With so few supplies, setting it up was quick, but comfort was minimal.
Seeking warmth, Miquella nestled into Leda's arms to sleep, at least for a while. Before drifting off, he made her promise to wake him when it was time for the next watch, despite her reluctance. Leda wanted to take the entire night's watch herself so her lord could rest, but Miquella knew the journey couldn't continue without her. And a sleepless Leda would be a problem.
It was a difficult first night outdoors. They faced no dangers, but Miquella wasn't used to such a life. And Leda, for her part, had trouble sleeping, knowing her master was awake keeping watch for her.
The next day was exhausting, and they didn't make much progress, but this was only the beginning. In time, they would adapt to this new routine.
And of course, the journey still had many surprises in store for them.
A couple of weeks later—
ROOOOAAAAARRRRR!
THUM!
A thunderous blow shook the ground, making the earth tremble. From afar, Miquella could feel the vibration running through his body, witness to the devastating strength of that creature. His gaze remained fixed on the scene, watching with awe and tension as the immense bear seemed capable of tearing through everything in its path.
Leda barely managed to dodge the beast's claw by the narrowest margin, but the attack left an opening in her defense. Seeing her chance, the knight leapt with impressive strength and landed on the back of the massive beast. With precise motion, she swung her sword and delivered a clean strike to its neck. Yet, the creature was far too resilient, and the wound wasn't enough to bring it down.
The bear's roar thundered like the sky itself as, with a violent motion, it managed to shake Leda off its back. The knight fell to the ground, but rolled deftly to soften the impact and sprang back to her feet at once.
The beast turned on her, eyes blazing with fury, ready to finish its opponent. But at that instant, Miquella emerged from his hiding place.
He raised his hand, and a golden radiance began to gather on his palm. The light crackled, pulsing with ethereal power, and though his face paled, he succeeded in manifesting a luminous disc.
Without hesitation, he hurled the spell at the bear.
Intentional or not… the disc struck with uncanny precision—too precise—landing squarely on the bear's testicles.
The result was immediate. A howl of agony and rage tore through the air as the colossus felt searing pain in its most vulnerable point. The blow, though weak in destructive force, had been surgically accurate, causing unimaginable damage.
The bear staggered, writhing in pain, its gaze locking on Miquella, who, drained by the effort, collapsed to the ground, barely able to keep himself upright.
Wasting no time, the beast lunged at him.
But Leda was already back in the fight.
Seizing the distraction, the knight struck at the creature's rear, driving her sword into the very spot where Miquella had landed his unorthodox blow.
The bear roared in a mix of pain and disbelief. Its body convulsed, its legs buckled, and its fury turned into sheer torment.
But it wasn't over yet.
Leda, spotting her chance, climbed once more onto the colossus's back, this time with unyielding determination. The creature, dazed by its agony, could not react in time. With one final thrust, the knight plunged her sword into the previous wound on its neck, this time driving it clean through.
The bear's roar faded little by little. Its strength ebbed away, and its massive body finally gave in, collapsing heavily onto the earth.
Breathing hard, her body slick with sweat, Leda pulled her sword free from the beast's head, making sure it was truly dead.
Only then, her muscles still taut with adrenaline, did she turn swiftly, ignoring her exhaustion, to search for her lord.
Miquella was approaching slowly, his steps heavy, his face visibly pale. He had spent more than he had anticipated, though he knew it was because of how hastily he had acted.
"Are you well, my lord?" Leda asked, concern in her voice.
"Yes… only tired," he replied, his gaze fixed on the creature's corpse with a pensive expression… recognition dawning. "A… Lesser Rune Bear…"
Leda frowned, still catching her breath.
"I was lucky to hear it coming, or we'd have fared far worse," she said, recalling how close they had come to being ambushed by the massive beast. "I didn't think this world had such creatures. It doesn't seem so different from home."
"I don't believe this world does… or at least, they wouldn't be identical to those of the Lands Between." Miquella did not take his eyes off the bear as he spoke, his tone more serious.
"Then… what does that mean?" Leda blinked, not fully understanding.
Miquella was silent for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.
"I don't know."
There were too many unanswered questions, but for now, he chose to set them aside.
It didn't matter whether they were in Middle-earth or the Lands Between. The danger seemed the same. And the journey had only just begun.
"Will you take some meat, or anything else from it?" Miquella asked.
"Just a little. It won't last long, and the sack's already full from our last stop. It'll be for eating now," Leda answered.
"Good. Do that. I intend to make use of the rest of its body."
Leda nodded and, with her sword, cut through the bear's thick hide before carving out chunks of meat she planned to roast. Once finished, she moved aside to gather wood and prepare a fire. Though it wasn't too late and they could have pressed on a bit farther, after such a battle, rest was needed.
Meanwhile, Miquella stood before the fallen bear. With the ring on his hand, he placed it upon the creature's head and closed his eyes.
In recent weeks, he had learned more about using the ring—or rather, refined his understanding of what he already knew.
The ring's power came at a cost, but that cost did not always have to come from himself. He had experimented on small animals, plants, even the soil, watching as vitality and energy were drawn out in the form of tiny motes of light, just as he had done with Brea. This time, however, he didn't intend to create a rune, but to attempt something different.
He had also noticed that the amount of extractable energy varied from being to being, and some resisted more than others. He had learned to draw only a fraction of a living creature's energy without taking its life, for he abhorred needlessly snuffing out existence. But if the subject was already dead, as in this case, he had no qualms about consuming its remains.
Miquella's ring shone brightly as the bear's body began to exude a golden aura. Slowly, the beast shrank, consumed bit by bit, until its corpse vanished entirely. In its place, Miquella's hand radiated with dazzling light.
He felt the overflowing energy coursing through him. Nothing he had absorbed thus far compared to this sensation of power. He knew some of that energy would dissipate over time, so he resolved to use it while it lasted.
He wondered what he truly needed in that moment, and his mind returned to the spell he had used earlier.
He had discovered something about this world's magic: he could cast the sorceries of his homeland through the ring, but at an exorbitant cost of energy. He was not yet attuned to the forces of this land, and that hindered him. Still, a thought crossed his mind.
"What if… I had a catalyst? Like the ones many mortals used in my world…"
If he possessed a catalyst to channel his inner power, rather than drawing it directly from his vitality through the ring, everything would be far easier. He knew well the strength of both magic and faith, and saw no reason a similar approach could not work here.
Focusing all his will, he attempted to commune with the ring, striving to mold the overflowing energy into what he desired.
The light in his hand flared suddenly, growing to a blinding point before beginning to compress, tighter and tighter, until it was almost imperceptible.
A breath of relief escaped Miquella. He had done it. As he opened his hand, a faint glow coalesced into the form of a small seal from his homeland.
"Erdtree Seal… Hm… I suppose this will do."
He smiled faintly. Though the talisman did not seem to be exactly the same as the one from his native land, nor brimming with great power, its function as an arcane focus was perfect. He could feel it: now his inner strength could flow outward with far greater ease.