Chapter 34: In Deep [Chris O’Kane]
A short walk took them to where a wagon waited for them. They sat in the back as the horse pulling the wagon made its way along. No one spoke. Their first notice of their destination was the smell. It was a rancid smell of raw sewage and rank, rotting that filled the air. Nothing they did could block out the smell.
The wagon stopped suddenly next to a low mound of large size.
"Out!" Misha ordered.
He waited silently as they got out. He handed each one a simple wooden medallion on a string. "Put that on. It will protect you from any foul disease. As for the smell. Well, get used to it." Misha handed them each a shovel. "The job is simple. Shovel the crap from the large mound into one of the small ones or into a wagon when needed.”
"Why a wagon?” Roderick asked.
"For fertilizer," Misha explained. "It makes some of the finest fertilizer around. Plants love the stuff."
An older woman walked up to them. Smelling a lot worse than the midden (if that was possible. "Are these my two helpers for the week?"
"They are Janet," Misha responded.
"Do as I tell you and we'll get along, And don't mind the smell. You'll get used to it." the woman said. she pointed to a wagon. "Fill that up with the manure."
"Now start shoveling!" The fox ordered.
Reluctantly the two got to work and slowly shoveled.
***
They got time for lunch around noon but were understandably not hungry. The rest of the day passed slowly but smellily. When it was time to quit for the day the two smelled rank and in spite of their best efforts manure clung to various parts of their clothing. Misha collected them and took them off to one side. There they stripped off their clothes and washed in cool but clean water. He gave each of them a shirt and pants to wear. The rest of the night was spent in a small but warm hut, thankfully upwind of the midden.
Work started at dawn the next day and the day went by slowly in the smell.
On day three Misha seemed to grow a bit more friendly. He took their old medallions away and gave them new, bronze ones. "You've earned these."
They were a vast improvement. Besides stopping and disease it got rid of the smell.
Chapter 35: Bread and Jam [Rimme]
The hair was getting thicker along Jerrod's fingers, which were still human-shaped but tipped in black claws. The quills hadn't reached there yet, but there were already inch-long quills at the top of his shoulders. His doublet had already been reduced to ribbons, leaving his sweaty back and quills well-ventilated.
A bell began ringing from one of the towers. "Alright, Jerrod," Bruin called out from the side, where he'd been mixing a fresh batch of mortar to cover the next section of flooring. "That's the sixth hour bell. Let's stop for lunch."
Jerrod thought his ears wiggled. He reached up to feel them. They felt mostly human, if a bit rounder. It was hard to tell; his fingers felt stiffer and chubbier, and the claws kept throwing him off.
"Fine," he called back, and carefully stood up. His pants were caked with dirt and specks of mortar, and the stiffening hair underneath did it no favors.
Bruin walked over and saw how stiffly Jerrod was moving. He looked over at the freshly tiled floor. "Well, you did a fine job with the tiling. All nice and straight. How are you feeling?"
"Stiff," Jerrod said, and nearly keeled over. "And sick."
"I figured as much," Bruin said. He began walking down the cobbled pathway before stopping, and walking more slowly so Jerrod could follow. "Most Keepers get sick when they begin their morph. Actually, I'm impressed you're still on your feet. I made sure to give you an easy job, in case you should pass out."
Jerrod spat on the ground. "My father didn't raise me to be a quitter."
Bruin grimaced. "All the same, I must ask you not to spit on holy ground again."
"Sorry," Jerrod winced. "It's my mouth. It's all swollen."
"Ah, that would be the rodent teeth growing in. You're becoming a gnawer now, which means you'll soon want a chewstick handy. I'd suggest talking to a mouse or rat morph when you get the chance—I hear they have a support group in Metamor."
"That's fine, I know a rat morph already, in fact." He snarled. "And I do not need a support group."
Bruin gave him a look and led him into a courtyard. There was a young boy looking at them from the tower. Bruin gestured, and the boy dashed inside. Bruin led Jerrod to a tree, where a large plinth-like wooden stump sat opposite a stone bench. Jerrod thought the heavy priest intended to sit on the finely-carved bench, but Bruin instead sat on the stump and motioned for Jerrod to sit. "What else did your father teach you?"
"Nothing! There's nothing to tell." Jerrod squirmed as he sat down, trying not to get poked by his own quills. His quills. He would be a spiny animal for the rest of his life.
"I'm sure that's not true," Bruin said. "He must have been an interesting man."
"What do you care about my father, anyway? He's gone or dead and I'll never see him again as long as I live. I don't know if I ever want him to see me again, like this."
"Gone OR dead? Is your father in trouble?"
Jerrod quickly looked away. "I don't want to talk about this."
Bruin leaned forward to meet Jerrod's eyes. "You don't need to carry your burdens alone."
"I know what you want," Jerrod's temper flared as he stood up. "You and your Followers, you come on acting like you're all sympathetic to the people's problems, but when it comes to hard realities, you look away. You're fond of your Canticles, and your teachings of Yahshua. And you love talking about the treasures of heaven, or of giving everything up to worship Eli. I've seen the soulless ruin you've led people under, and ensorcelled with your words of love and forgiveness. You give out bread and healing at the cost of conversion, and the price of conversion is belief and martyrdom. I've seen Followers put to the death for their faith. And I've met men who claimed to follow Eli's word, who would shelter desperate souls through one door, and lead the executioners in soon after. I've known Followers who would lie and cheat and defame the name of Eli, without a shred of guilt. And why not? All it takes is a quick confession and a show of sorrow, and it is as if Eli forgives them! They never need to look at themselves or understand that their actions are antithetical to their own faith!"
Bruin sat and bore him with a patient stare. A child morph was standing with a small tray of bread and a jar of plum jam. He had been standing there for some time before Bruin finally noticed him standing there awkwardly.
"Thank you, Father Malvin," Bruin accepted the tray and laid it on the bench. The priest smiled and gave a short bow before leaving. "Are you a religious man, Jerrod?"
"What? Well, no. Not really. My father said it was better not to hold convictions for one faith or the other. Makes it easier to talk to people, that way."
"You do have convictions, regardless."
"I find it hypocritical of Followers to not practice what they believe."
"That is quite common behavior, not just for Followers, to follow the people they can see rather than the words they can't. It is not enough to be pious, as you've seen; one must also have faith." He took the bread and the knife, and cut a slice for Jerrod first, spreading a bit of the plum marmalade on the slice for him.
Jerrod's nose, still human if a bit darker, flared at the sweet scent. He'd never had a sweet tooth, always finding pastries and fruits too rich and artificial for his taste. But something about the plums made his stomach gurgle, as if remembering he hadn't eaten in over a day. He took the bread but restrained himself. Bruin was still watching him, studying him.
Jerrod set down the bread in a huff. "What do you people want from me?"
"'We' people? Which people do you mean?"
"You, the monastery, all of Metamor. I'm just a prisoner. A murderer. A robber who tried to stab someone. I realize I was stupid. But that doesn't change that I did it. So, what are you going to do to me? How are you going to teach me my lesson? Through hard work? Indentured servitude? I work until I pay my debt to society, is that it?"
Bruin cut a piece of bread for himself, also topping it with jam. "You've been entrusted to my care until further notice. Wherever I go, you go. The full nature of your crimes isn't important to me. I just want to know more about you, and the pains you hold onto."
"If you're trying to preach to me, I've heard it all before. 'Let Eli bear your sins', 'confess', and all that. I've done nothing wrong, though. I may have committed sins, but only out of necessity. Whatever it takes to survive in this world, to try to make something of myself, for my family."
"What do you mean, when you say you've committed sins, but done nothing wrong? How does that make you any less hypocritical than the priests you despise?"
"I never swore to follow Eli's word, is the difference."
"Do you believe in Eli's word?"
"No," Jerrod said, and suddenly stiffened. "Well... it's like it's no different from the acts of the Aedra, and the sort of favors they ask of you for their service. That's all Eli is. That's how my father explained it."
"Is that what you believe, though?"
Jerrod shuddered. Without thinking, he took hold of his bread. "Well, the world is cruel. It doesn't follow Eli's word. So why should I try to follow it, if I'm to be a man of the world?"
"But is that who you are?"
"Stop asking me!" The quills on Jerrod's back quivered. His hand clenched around his slice of bread, the fingers squelching against the jam. "I'm sick of people asking me questions about who I am or how I feel! It's nobody's business but my own!"
"Something in your past still haunts you," Bruin took a bite out of his own slice. "Before you became a robber, what were you?"
"I'm not a robber!" Jerrod snarled, waving a jam-covered finger at him. "I'm a potter! I make tiles out of slate and clay and lime and ash. My father and I would sculpt them, glaze them, fire them, and polish them. Thousands of tiles! We sold them across the Midlands. No one ever made any so fine but durable as ours!"
"Your father first made them?"
He nodded, a smile returning to his face. "He was a genius. There is a secret to how you fire them, in the glaze itself. Only he and I know the secret. It was to be our path towards getting a new home! A safer home in the city, away from the farmlands, from the marauders, from the whims of the nobles…"
Without thinking, he lifted the bread up and bit it. His eyes widened, before he hungrily bit in again. "This is delicious!"
"You're welcome," Bruin smiled. "It's local Barnhardt bread. Not as fine as the kind you can get in Metamor, I hear."
"It's just like the bread back home," he sniffed, wiping a tear that was suddenly there. "We had a baker, a man named Olgar. One of my first jobs, when I was seven, was laying the floor tiles in his bakery. He gave me four silvers for it. Me alone! It was like a fortune in my hands!"
"Did you have a lot of customers?"
Jerrod licked the jam from his fingers as he continued. "Many people from our village would buy from us. Some of them preferred darker colors or brighter colors. Some had specific shapes or designs they wanted. Sometimes we did bricklaying or roof-tiling. Eventually, Dad and I traveled to other villages, and then the big cities like Marigund, to find richer clients. Isn't it fascinating how nobles will look kindly on the man who sells bricks, and sneer at the man who makes them? I would play the role of the craftsman, in my trousers and apron, while my father wore a jacket and hose and played the part of a merchant. We're both peasants, sure, but at least a merchant garners respect."
"So what happened?"
Jerrod's face fell. "A bit of bad luck." He pointed at the bread and the knife. Bruin carefully cut him a second slice of bread, with another dollop of jam. Jerrod ate almost half of it in one bite. "Dad got a nasty cough one season. He never quite recovered; he was always out of breath when we'd travel across the country. He'd stay at the inn longer and longer while I went alone to our customers. I gambled with some of the other workers for a little extra money. One of my partners through all this was Rodrick. He was already living on the streets when we met. He taught the basics of bluffing and reading people, how to track cards and how to force a hand. All without getting caught."
"Cheating at cards?"
"Not with the workers. They needed the money as much as I did. The nobles, however...it's their Eli-given duty to give their wealth to the poor, anyway. Is it wrong to enforce Eli's will upon others?"
Bruin tilted his head. "Bearing false witness is one of the great sins. As is coveting your neighbor's wealth."
Jerrod shrugged. "Just a joke, as Rodrick would say."
"Is this the same Rodrick I heard stabbed someone yesterday?"
Jerrod finished his bread slice without responding. Bruin cut another two slices, one for each of them. "Anyway, I borrowed my dad's jacket and hose when I gambled. Nobles only like gambling with each other. I was able to pass as one well enough to win some small fortunes.
"I got an unexpected bit of luck. Without even trying, I won five hundred crowns from a deacon in Kelewair. Sure, he wasn't supposed to be gambling. But none of us were, technically. It would've more than enough to buy a new farmstead, maybe even a townhouse. I could finally give my father what he wanted. Safety. Freedom.
"I only got as far as Haethor..." Jerrod paused, his eyes getting distant and angry. "It turns out, that deacon had a brother who was constable there. He chased me into an alley. He said he knew I was a card cheat, a trickster, a villein. That I had stolen the money, and my jacket. He wanted it all back. Said I belonged in my rightful place..." He clenched his bread, though more carefully this time, so as not to stain his fingers. "Rodrick had given me a knife for protection. When the constable came for me, I..."
"You attacked?"
"No," Jerrod gave a lop-sided grimace. "I didn't. I got scared. This was a man of the law. But he saw where my hand went. And he punched me. He stripped the coat off me, and dumped out all the spare tiles I was carrying on and ripped it up. He took my knife. And he took my money pouch, like a thief. Then he kicked me again into the street. And he said I should be grateful that he showed mercy on my kind." Jerrod paused and tore bitterly into his bread.
"I'd never felt so humiliated and degraded before. I didn't want to imagine what my Dad would say. Not only had I ruined his coat, without even asking to use it. But I had lost the money he had trusted me with. The constable had taken both my winnings and my honest wages! I knew if I walked away from this, the deacon and his damned constable brother would win. I would be responsible for my family's destitution. That's when I asked Rodrick for help..."
"I think that man has been a terrible influence on you."
"That's not ptue!" Jerrod said, accidentally fumbling over his teeth. They had been growing subtly for the last few minutes, though nowhere near their full size. He smacked his lips and tried again. "Rodrick taught me how to fight with a knife, how to watch for an opening and how to make a sudden movement. He told me how to pick a lock, how to misdirect attention, how to sneak in the shadows. Thief skills, yes, but those are the skills you need in a world of thieves! The one thing I lacked, he said, was the willpower to use them. To overcome my fear. To do what I set out to do!"
Bruin leaned back. "That murder you committed... it wasn't really self-defense, was it?"
"No! I never intended to kill him!" Jerrod leaned forward. "Rodrick distracted them, while I went through his drawers. He let me have another knife. Somehow, he always had one on him. I was in through the window and at the constable's trunk. He hadn't even locked it! And then there he was, in the doorway, sword in hand. He lunged at me! I started fighting without thinking. Like he was a bandit. Like it was my life or his!"
Bruin shook his head. "What he did was wrong. But what you did was worse."
"But I needed it, you understand? It was my life he was taking from me, my future, my family! Everything we had!"
"Did your father ever find out what you had done?"
Jerrod faltered. "N-no. I...I ended up running from that place with a handful of coins. Rodrick stuck with me. Between us, we got enough to get new weapons, some armor, a new outfit, and to disappear as caravan guards. I kept trying to go east, back home! But the constable's men were looking everywhere for me. And if they knew where my family was...I couldn't even write them a letter! It was in Giftum that Rodrick suggested we take a caravan that went north and south to Pyralis and cut our way through the Flatlands. But we never made it south. Because..." he waved a hand feebly. "We came here, first."
"And that's when you lost everything." Bruin cut the bread for the last time.
Jerrod held out his hand while Bruin spread the jam. "All I keep thinking is, I'm smart enough. I'm tough enough and brave enough. And I never give up!"
Bruin handed him the thick slice, keeping the small end slice for himself. "You gave up a normal life, and you lost your home and your father. Is taking from the rich really more important to you?"
Jerrod tried to look defiant, but his eyes were lost in memory. "Rodrick told me..."
"Is Rodrick's respect more important than your father's?"
"He's..." Jerrod looked at the ground. "He's the only one who never laughed at my dreams."
"Is he more important than your family?"
Jerrod looked away as he swallowed the last of the bread. "You don't know him. You haven't seen how he fights or heard about his travels. He...he's everything I failed to do in life."
"Would his father have been proud of him?"
"I... don't know. He never mentioned his family. But... I assumed they were proud of him, being on his own and such..."
"Let's get back to work," Bruin sighed, glancing up at the clear sky. "How are you feeling with your changes? Any light-headedness? Soreness? I don't want you to pass out while working."
Jerrod just shrugged. "I'm sore all over. But I've been sore ever since Haethor. It's nothing I can't handle."
"At least you've got that." Bruin stood up. "I know you don't think of yourself as a quitter, Jerrod. But there are times you need to ask yourself what rules you're playing by. And who are you playing for." He started off. "Come on. The mortar should have settled by now. Let's pour another layer."
Chapter 36: [Chris O’Kane]
The monastery was far from finished but the main walls were up, as was the roof and various chimneys. The place would be warm and dry all winter.
They made their way to a large building that was still only partially done. The walls were up, and the roof was just being finished. Jerrod was taken inside and saw the floor was unfinished. A large section was covered with freshly laid mortar which was still wet. By the door were two large piles of floor tiling. One pile had blue tiles and the other green.
“The work is simple,” brother Bruin said. He had two tiles in his hand. One of each color. He placed the blue tile into the fresh mortar and then set the green next to it. Carefully aligned. “First you place one tile then an alternate color. Do that all the way across. Move forward and do another row. Keep doing that till you reach the end of what we already mortared.”
They started working first with the brother laying the tile, but then he let Jerrod do it as well. Soon a simple but pretty pattern of tiles appeared.
The work was simple but was similar to what he had done back home when he was young. It brought back pleasant memories of working with his father. Happier times.
“I did this very often with my father,” Jerrod said. I could probably do it in my sleep.”
“Well please stay awake while you work,” Bruin responded with a laugh.
Jerrod took a moment to examine one of the tiles. It was one of the blues ones. The tile itself was hard and had been well fired. Perhaps a bit not long enough as some edges seemed a bit soft. The color was alright, but his father had made tiles with a deeper, richer color.
A few hours work and they reached the end of the floor that was covered with mortar. More mortar was mixed and laid down and the whole process repeated.
Night was starting to fall when Bruin called a halt for the day. A good portion of the hall now had a floor of blue and green tiles.
“That looks good,” brother Bruin said honestly. “Good day's work. Let us go to dinner.”
He was assigned a bed in one corner of the dormitory. It was a wooden cot with a blanket and simple pillow. It wasn’t much, but it was his little corner.
Chapter 37: [Indy and Kamau]
After finishing the training in energies, Kasaima and the others made camp. A fire was built, and dinner was served. Kasaima ate quickly so that he could set up some defensive wards around the camp.
“It’s not a physical ward,” he explained. “It causes a feeling of disillusionment in anyone not looking for it. A feeling, as you get closer, that there are other things nearby more interesting or concerning. A few around the perimeter should be strong enough to deter the natural predators of the woods and any lost raiders.” He got up and left.
“How long does it take to be a mage?” asked Aldwin. “And, it isn’t opposed to Eli, right?”
“It is a lifetime of learning. You’ve barely started. And no, it’s not,” said Nyein, with some annoyance obvious. “I hate that argument. Magic exists in the world and is no different than any other aspect of it. Those who condemn the use of magic might as well condemn the use of fire. Just like fire there is no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ magic. What a person does with the ability is what makes it good or bad.”
Aldwin nodded but looked very relieved. “Thanks for that. Some folks think it’s from, well, you know. Anyway, I wish I’d been able to do more. I just got a tiny bit of light in my hands. I think. You did a lot better Reed.”
“I’m not sure I’ve got much to brag about.”
“It’s far better for you to find it a little at a time,” Nyein counseled. “And if you do have magic ability it is better to know it early and get some help. One of the best examples of that actually also underscores the answer to Aldwin’s question about a follower of Eli and magic. The Sondeckis are a clan of mages dedicated to Eli. We have a few in Metamor. They have a natural talent for magic and if they are not trained to control it that power will drive them insane and kill them. For those people it is a case of learning to use magic or die.”
Aldwin nodded slowly. “You mean Matthias? I’ve heard some of the tales about his adventures. Amazing, some to the point of being hard to believe.”
“While they are not part of our mage guild, I can assure you that he and the others are well respected for their ability.”
“I never realized how hard it was for folks to use magic. It takes a lot of skilled training.” said Reed.
“That it does,” said Nyein. “It can be learned, but like any other skill it takes practice and the availability of a teacher. People will think that just saying magic words or drawing glyphs is enough.”
“Why do those things work?” asked Aldwin.
“Well, for a large part, because someone thinks they will work. They know they’re saying special words or making a special drawing, so they put some energy behind it and off it goes! Mind you, magic words and glyphs were discovered slowly over the years. They were found to be more effective at getting magic to do something specific, though the why is still unknown. Of course, this is what also makes them so dangerous. People use them and don’t understand them. It’s like lighting a fire and having no way to control it.”
“That is an apt description, Nyein-san,” said Kasaima, returning from his first ward. “From what I understand of it, the Curse is a good example of magic gone awry. What happened to poor Talo is another.”
Talo sighed, but then looked focused. “How Kasiama-san send Talo home?”
Nyein smiled. “That’s an excellent question!” Talo beamed. “You mentioned you might be able to help him at your home. Why not here? The Gate he came through is here.”
“The Gate he came through is closed. Gates are mighty efforts in magic, and they rely on being fed magic to operate properly. Given the sheer amount of magic in this valley, it’s not surprising to find a Gate here. There’s likely more than the one. But to reactivate that one would take more power than I’m able to wield. It must have been building reserves for centuries, but without someone to focus it, they simply dissipated instead of returned. It’ll be centuries yet before it will build enough reserves to safely reopen. If I were to try and simply drain the energies of the Valley to force it open, I’d almost certainly die and the Gate would still be closed.
“However, I can sense Talo’s energies, as all my kind can. Because of this, a group of us could open a temporary Gate to Talo’s world and return him there safely. The more people who work on a spell, the greater it can be. But it also takes greater focus and a lot of preparation. There’s also no guarantee that it will send Talo exactly where he wants to go. We can be sure the destination point is somewhere safe, but to really attune to a specific location takes knowledge of that location.”
After Nyein translated Talo nodded. “Yes, Talo understand. Can go home, but may be far from clan. Talo will be happy anyway.”
Kasaima smiled. “I’m glad. Give me a few more minutes, and then we can rest. I think another three days and the carpet will be ready.”
***
Once again Talo briefly opened his eyes and closed them, thinking to himself how restless a night he was having. He ignored the pain in his back, believing it to be sore muscles from the combat exercise earlier in the day. His dreams were troubled with visions from his earlier life where there had been encounters with dragons. While some had been tense, and even a couple ending in combat, most of the time it was simply a matter of the Kobolds showing their great respect to the dragons. Even on this adventure, when they had met the dragon mage, he had been very careful to show due respect, even though the dragon seemed to dismiss it.
His dreams and remembrances were suddenly interrupted by a shiver that ran through his entire body. Half-awake, eyes still closed, he took his usual posture by reaching for his tail and drawing it close to him for additional protection from the cold. But as he did so something felt drastically wrong. He slid his hand up the length of the tail; that also seemed disproportionate to what he expected. When he reached the end, however, his eyes popped open in surprise. In the dim light of the pre-dawn hours, he could still clearly see the spade at the end of his tail.
“Huh?” Talo exclaimed but this came out as a low deep throated rumble. He immediately attempted to Spring to his feet. But the result of this was for him to tumble over onto his back. He immediately rolled to his front and placed all four of his clawed feet on the ground. Slowly raising himself to a standing position he looked in disbelief as he now towered over the rest of the party causing him to once again give the same rumble he had upon awakening.
Both the sound and the sudden movement awakened Nyein who sat up, eyes half open.
“Talo, what’s wrong? Were you having a bad…”
The apprentice mage fully opened his eyes only to see not the sky but only a set of dark golden scales above him. Now, fully awake, with eyes wide, he quickly followed the scales up to where they terminated at a large draconic head. He let out a scream and one word.
“Dragon!”
This was more than enough to awaken the rest of the party who were quickly on their feet but just as quickly frozen in shock and disbelief.
“Where?” Talo asked in a voice much deeper than his usual one. He quickly snapped his head around from side to side and then, looking into the sky and uttered, “I don’t see any dragon.”
Only the bat mage beneath him understood the draconic in which he spoke.
“You, you are,” he whispered more than said.
“I am what?” the former Kobold asked now bending his long neck about, bringing his body into view. “I… I, ah no, can’t be. I am not of that blood.”
“It would seem that our Kobold friend is not immune to the curse as others like him would seem to be,” Kasaima said calmly. “I would suggest you remain still for now Talo-san. One step and you will be upon your companion.”
Lowering his head to where he could see his forelimb, he saw Nyein just as the Oni had said.
“I shall not move until you are away from me Nyein.”
The bat apprentice needed no other persuasion to quickly extract himself from beneath the massive beast.
“Talo-san, I know little about the Curse, but I would suggest for now that you might sit or lay down until you have a greater sense of your new body.”
“He’s right Talo,” Trey said “For now just rest. For all of us it takes a little time for our mind to catch up with our new body. In your case, perhaps a bit more than most. You will see that after that, you will be able to move about just as you would in your old body.”
“But how?” Reed asked, still in shock. “We have been days changing, but Talo changed overnight.”
“Everyone changes at their own pace,” Trey answered, looking back to the dragon.
“Oh, and do be careful about flying at first,” Nyein added. “While your body knows naturally how to fly you will still have to learn how to direct that natural ability.”
“Fly?” the new dragon replied, unconsciously extending his wings “OH! Wings? I can fly?”
“You most certainly can and will,” the bat answered, but seeing his friend raise his large wings added “With wings that large you have to be aware of who and what is around you. One flap of yours and you would create a sizable gust of air strong enough to topple some people.”
Talo nodded and kept his wings close indeed. Trey helped Reed and Aldwin prepare breakfast while Kasaima examined Talo. “Hmm…interesting…”
“What do you sense?” asked Nyein. He was trying to use mage sight to see what had happened to his friend. He suspected Kasaima’s talent was related.
“Something that doesn’t make much sense. There are lines of energy coming from within and they have strengthened his world’s energy signature. But the Gate’s energies should have dissipated. I’m not sure how they could have coalesced in him like this. Usually that only happens with hyacinths or crystals.”
Nyein started, then looked around and found Talo’s purse–still full of gems. “Like these?” Now that he really looked at them, he could see they faintly glowed with magic!
“Yes, those would do nicely. Indeed they did do nicely. I wish I’d known of them before. Even now their stored energies are fading as they feed into Talo. This Curse is truly a strange thing to interact with energies in such a way.” He looked at Talo. “May I take one? I want to make it into a key.”
Talo nodded. Kasaima took the one with the most energy left and held it above the others. From them he drew the remaining energies and sealed them into the one. It glowed bright enough for all to see.
“There! That will help! A key we can use to unlock your door.”
“Couldn’t you use it and the energy in Talo?” asked Aldwin. “I mean, the Curse is supposed to be irreversible, but if you use the energies…”
“If I use the energy, it will kill Talo. They have become part of him and to remove it would be to remove his very life essence as well. The Gate would open, but all that would go through is a corpse.”
“Oh. But how did the Curse get into those energies anyway?”
“When the Curse came into being, it twisted itself around the very magic in the Valley,” said Nyein. “The Gate absorbed the magic and the Curse, so when it was expelled, it must have been completely mixed together. We know for a fact that anyone who tries and mess with the Curse ends up on the wrong end of it regardless of species. All you need to do is look at Rorlyn for an example of that.”
“Rorlyn? He’s the large gryphon I’ve seen over the Keep isn’t he?” Reed asked. “As a gryphon I’d say he fared pretty well.”
“Yes, being a gryphon isn’t the problem,” Nyein continued. “He is a powerful mage and thought he had found a way to protect himself from the curse. When he discovered it was taking him, he fought against it as it was making him avian. He lost the battle against it and in the process caused the curse to combine the eagle form he was becoming with the lion form he was using as part of his plan to protect himself. It also used the energy he had released to greatly increase his size. He is now too large to enter most dwellings and, along with this, he cannot change to a smaller, more human size.”
“Talo always be dragon now?” the transformed Kobold asked. “Talo know it a great honor to be dragon but Talo no like being so large.”
“I can’t say for sure Talo,” the bat mage replied. “I would think that for you, seeing you were changed in a more normal way, you can become smaller. I’m just not sure how much size you can lose. I’ll work with you later to see what we can do.”
“But, wait, if you transferred the energies, does that mean you’re cursed too Kasaima-san?” asked Trey.
Kasaima smiled. “Yes. I can feel the oddness of it within me. I cannot say how long it will take or how it will manifest. Nor am I particularly worried about it. Do not fret either, Trey-san or Talo-san. My duty is to help others, and I do not mind that it sometimes requires sacrifice. Once we finish breakfast, we can resume our training.” The Oni smiled at the new dragon, “And for you that will mean learning to use those claws, teeth, tail and wings as weapons.”
“Shouldn’t he be able to breathe fire?” Trey asked
“Best not to attempt that,” Kasaima quickly replied. “I would not like to see uncontrolled dragon fire released in a wooded place like this. No, the natural armor of a dragon along with his size makes him formidable enough for now.”
***
It had taken him three days, but Yuèliàng finally made it to the Valley. He wasn’t sure if his quarry was still here, though. Following the road, he first reached a place named Lorland, but while they knew of Gwayn (who, apparently, tried to sell rugs there, to the annoyance of everyone), they had never heard of the oni.
A few hours’ walking took him to Euper and Keeptown. He was amazed by the architecture and the diversity of people. One merchant, a dog, stood out somehow. “Excuse me sir, a rug merchant I met on the way said there was a new, unusual creature in the valley. It met the description of an oni back home. Would you know anything about it?”
“Rug merchant? That wouldn’t be Gwayn would it? That fellow would hock his own mother if it’d earn him coin!” PTEW! “Gives me mouth a bad taste just thinkin’ on him! But aye, he was here and gone since. Changed out folks too. Some Keepers went with him–gods know why! Fellow’s likely ta get ‘em in trouble. But a creature? Hmmm. I seem to recall some story from the Jolly Collie about somethin’ big and red bein’ there a couple days ago. Don’t rightly know much about it. I’m still tryin’ ta adjust myself. Would ya care for one of me wares?”
Yuèliàng felt he owed the man that much and purchased a ceramic rabbit from him. It was well-made and could be seen as an auspicious sign since his clan symbol was the rabbit. He went further in and found the Jolly Collie.
“Hey there! If yer lookin’ fer yer friend, he’s off in the wilds!” Yuèliàng turned to see a person in guard’s uniform smiling at him.
“What?”
“A big red fellow. Yer cloths remind me of him. I guess you must have just missed him. He seemed ta be in a bit o’ hurry, but Misha says he’s alright, and I’ll take Misha’s word. It’s been nigh three days since he’s been there. Trainin’ some folks with him I hear. If you hurry, you’ll be able to catch him in the woods that way afore he leaves.”
“Thank you so much! You’ve no idea how much this means to me!”
“Glad ta help out! Ain’t got nothin’ ‘gainst for’ners, mind, but some folks is best off where they belong.”
Yuèliàng simply nodded and ran off. Destiny favored him, but he wasn’t going to press his luck.
Chapter 37: Getting Used To Change [Rimme]
Having woken up so suddenly, it wasn't until Kasaima sent them out to make breakfast that Reed finally examined what had happened to his own body overnight. His muscles were sore and awkward, though that was as much from training as from the curse. His hips were tight against his trousers, and as he sat down, he could easily feel the now-forever vacant throne where his manhood once sat.
"You can have some of my pants, Reed," Aldwin said. "I don't know if I'll be needing mine anymore, soon." Aldwin's feathers had not yet spread above his chest and shoulders, with a few light layers of down crossing to his upper arms and the back of his neck behind his ears. The biggest change was to his feet, which had stretched out a few more inches overnight, so that his toes were now spread outward like webbed fingers, and his heel now a thick nob on thin feet. Aldwin was still scraping the mud off himself after he had bolted up earlier. His walking was still wobbly, and he had now resigned himself to sitting on the bench, shifting his weight around to get a feel for a digitigrade stance.
"Thanks," Reed said. "I think 'Rita' would be more appropriate, though." She sighed, distinctly more feminine than it was last night. "I should start getting used to my new name, as soon as I can."
"You know," Trey said as he lifted a pot of water onto the fire, "everyone would understand if either of you sat out a day or two to adjust. You don't want to strain yourselves."
"I'm fine," Rita said, giving her limbs a stretch. "I've had years to practice controlling my breathing and relaxing my muscles." She smiled as she remembered the starlit nights she had stood, half-watching, half-meditating, as a boy. "Besides, I think the worst of my changes has passed. Better to forge the metal while it's still hot."
"Hot metal is weak metal, though," Aldwin said. He held open a bag of grain for Trey, who was adding several cupfuls of grain into the pot. "I'm not a smith, but I know metal can snap when it gets too hot too fast."
"I don't think muscles work the same way as metal," Trey said. "But she does have a point. The Curse can be very fluid during the transition period. Using magic now can have very strange effects on your body. Are you able to shift yet, by the way?"
"Shift?" Rita blinked. "I thought only animal morphs like you could shift."
"All Keepers can shift. It's just that us animal morphs can make more practical use of our full forms. Probably better if you didn't shift, actually. Your clothes are tight enough as-is, and Aldwin doesn't have enough spares for experimenting."
"Wait," Aldwin said, "does this mean we can shift, even before we've finished changing?"
"Hmmm," Trey thought. "Well, back when I had my change, all I wanted to do was lie in bed for days afterward. Shifting was the last thing on my mind. Yours seems to be happening much slower, but I still wouldn't shift if I were you. You might end up bending your arms in the wrong direction and be stuck with a backwards arm for the rest of your life. Wicked as it is, the Curse knows what it's doing. You can practice your magic, as long as you don't try to manipulate the Curse."
"How long have you lived in Metamor, Trey? Have you always been an adventurer?"
"All my life. All I've ever known was the Keep. To be honest, mostly inside the Keep. Down in the dungeons where rats and mice have made their own homes. Clean areas filled with fairy lights and comforts. I was about nine or ten when the Curse hit the Keep. I'm still not sure why the rats and mice decided to hide away. No one seems to mind us much. My father is a carpenter and my mom's a seamstress, but I've always had a sort of wander lust. I can do some really amazing things with wood, though."
"Oh?" Rita smiled. "What sort of things?"
Trey reached into his side and pulled out an item from his purse. From within, among the chinking of coins, he withdrew something and placed it in Rita's hand. It was a finely carved figure of a rat morph, miniature sword held high, shield in on his other arm. "Matthias. Or so I've heard him described."
"Ah, he's one of the Long Scouts, isn't he? Oh, yes, the one who was half-turned into stone," she said, turning the sculpture around, admiring the curl of the tail, and the subtle muscles beneath the wooden jerkin. "I've heard other scouts down south talk about them. Their deeds are legendary, especially Misha's. I even heard George the Cutlass lives here with them."
"I've heard of them all too, but never really met them until we met Misha. I still haven't met Matthias or George." Trey held something else in his hands, not as fine as the statue, but just as precious. It was a set of wooden beads, tied together into a loop, with the cross of Yahshua on one end.
"Oh, are you a Follower too?" Aldwin asked.
Trey nodded. "I've gone to Mass ever since Hough came. I try to pray my rosary every morning."
"Ah," Rita's eyes shifted. "My family raised me to be Lothanasi. They often told me about Patildor attacks. My parents...weren't consistent, though." She squirmed, reluctant to reveal more. She could still hear the outraged screams, the squelch of a sword. The fires crackling. The charred skin on her uncle's white skull. She shuddered. "I've since learned better, though. We both want what's best for our souls. You two may pray to Eli, while I pray to Kammoloth."
Both Aldwin and Trey noticed the change in her manner, and with a silent look, agreed not to ask further questions.
Soon the porridge was ready, and the three set out a bowl of nuts, some dried berries, and some salted pork for their companions to add as they wished. Talo looked down at the tiny bowls. He could swallow half the cauldron in one gulp. "Talo need to get own food?" Talo asked.
"I see no other option," Nyein said. "We'll have to build up a stockpile of meat for you." A thought came to him. "Today is June 3rd. The Day of the Duke's Hunt. He'll have to go outside the valley to get something to eat."
"Talo not too hungry now. Talo worry may be very hungry soon."
"We have three people whose bodies have changed overnight," Kasaima said as he lifted the magic wards that had protected their camp during the night. "Let's start with getting reacquainted with them."
Chapter 38: To Fight For What’s Right [Everyone]
“What is the Kings Hunt?” Aldwin asked. “Isn’t that a Lightbringer celebration?”
“It is,” Trey answered. “On that day the Duke and his entourage ride out and go hunting for the largest buck. In celebration of Artela. Once captured the buck cleaned and covered with ointments and put in horse tack. Then it’s released back into the wild as a Mercy offering to Artela.”
“So, they go to the effort to catch a buck, wash him and clean him up. Just to let him go?” Aldwin asked. “Sounds kind of weird.”
“The idea is to give back to Artela a gift for the bounty she gives us,” Rita explained.
“That makes sense,” Alwin responded and took a sip of his porridge. “But isn’t Duke Thomas a horse? They don’t eat meat. How does he feel about hunting something? I mean some places still hunt and eat horses.”
Trey shrugged. “Never given it much thought to be honest. But the Duke does it every year.”
“How does the change affect a person? What if the Duke had been a buck and not a stallion,” Rita asked. “Makes it hard to hunt one of your own kind.”
“I know that certain nobles have been excused from the ceremony,” Trey responded. “The curse has changed more than just bodies; it’s changed everything.”
***
Trey was feeling pretty proud of himself. The morning training was going pretty well. He'd beaten his replica twice, and he was feeling more sure in the training he'd received under Jack. Kasaima decided that they needed to pair up since the replicas couldn't match true intelligence.
During the first round, he'd been paired against Aldwin, which was a fair fight. He might have started a bit better, but Aldwin had been putting great effort into improvement, so they were basically equal. Nyein was working with Talo, trying to help him to get back into a form that wasn't likely to burn the forest or knock everyone over. Kasaima and Rita were facing one another, with Kasaima likely holding back. "Good! Excellent! A masterful stroke! You're overcoming your changes well!"
"It's best to focus on what I can control and not on what I can't."
"A wise course! Excellent job everyone!"
The rests were well-timed, enough to give some recovery, especially for Aldwin and Rita. "Let's change partners. Trey-san, I'd very much like to fight with you and see how you've grown!"
"Of course, Kasaima-san!" Trey felt thrilled. Aldwin and Rita paired off. Talo was looking a bit smaller as Nyein guided him. So far the Curse had not yet manifested on Kasaima. "This is going to be fun!"
Kasaima smiled. "I certainly hope so! Learning should be fun! Now get ready and..."
***
As combat practice continued the winged members of the group were doing a different kind of practice some distance from the camp.
Nyein panted as he landed near Talo and gasped, “How did you learn to run that fast so soon?”
“Kobolds run on all fours at times, especially if we want to make best time,” he answered in draconic. “As a dragon it is not much different aside from having to keep my wings tucked in.”
The bat mage nodded to the reply, “Well you certainly proved that you can run fast. I couldn’t keep up with you after the first few yards.”
“I hope I can learn to fly soon,” he said lying down. “I think I’m going to enjoy that.”
Nyein tilted his head as he heard this, “Don’t you remember earlier this morning? You flew as masterfully as I’ve seen any dragon fly, though I’ve not seen very many fly close to the ground as you did.”
“Hmm, Yes. That’s true but I was just letting the dragon do the hunting and not really in control myself. It was rather strange. Like sitting behind someone who’s riding a horse.”
“Well then let’s try and see if you know how to glide,” he suggested, glancing over at the group who seemed to be taking a break. “Run again but this time when you reach top speed slowly extend your wings like this.”
The bat showed with his own wings what he meant the dragon to do.
“Just keep them even and level until you touch down, then run off the speed and stop. Can you do that?”
“I can give it a try,” the former Kobold replied quickly standing and running off. The bat followed but could not catch up with the larger flier. As directed Talo opened his wings and immediately rose sharply into the air, quickly rising above the tree level.
“Talo! Flatten your wings. You're pitching them up too much.”
Doing as directed the dragon flexed his wings, but at too much of an angle and was now into a dive.
“Pull up, pull up!” Nyein yelled but the dragon was already sliding along the ground. The bat raced to his side.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, looking his scaled friend over for injuries.
“Other than my pride I am fine,” the dragon said, already rising to his feet and looking at the deep trench his landing had made. “I’m not sure I can say the same for the field.”
“Hmm, no, I think you have left your mark,” the bat glanced back at the encampment and saw the others now standing about, talking.
“You rest here for a while,” the bat mage told him. “I am going to see if they want us to rejoin them for some practice.”
And with that Nyein flew toward the encampment.
***
Before Kasaima could continue, vines rose out of the earth! Trey found himself bound and saw even Kasaima was! The vines grabbed Aldwin and Rita by the arms, knocking their practice swords out of their startled hands and throwing the two guards down to the ground. A strange, cold fog rolled over everything, and Trey found himself shivering. Even the vines were getting icicles!
Nyein gasped as he saw the vines spring up and he started to gain altitude, trying to stay clear, but one was already whipping out of the ground toward him. With a violent maneuver he tried to avoid it but it was too late. It grabbed a leg and spun him around, binding him in its green coils like a butcher would wrap up meat in paper.
"So, I've found you at last. And training invaders no less." There was a voice in the fog. It was calm, but deadly. "I'd say you ought to be ashamed of yourself, but the dishonorable know no shame."
A figure appeared, shadowy at first, but becoming distinct. A man in some kind of robe reminiscent of those Trey'd seen in the scrolls Kasaima had him help with. He had a strange sword in his one hand. It was glowing green. His free hand was glowing an icy blue.
"How do you have that sword? Yuèjiàn does not tolerate liars!"
"I am not lying. Your clan has one of the royal heirs, but what have you raised him as? A mere puppet for oni to rule over humans with! This I will not allow! I, Yuèliàng of Unoki, shall end the threat before it begins!"
"We have done nothing of the sort!'' The air around Kasaima began to glow and warm, the vines withering. Trey took the time to change himself—the cold vines let him through. He managed to jump onto Kasaima as he pulled himself free and raised his iron club. From it came light and heat, dispelling the fog.
After that, the two began to battle in earnest. Trey tried to jump from Kasaima to his attacker, in hopes of distracting him, but he overshot and landed somewhere in Yuèliàng's robes—unnoticed by either Yuèliàng or Kasaima. A sudden blow knocked Trey unconscious.
***
Nyein was already shrinking to his smaller bat form as Trey freed himself. The vines were fast, but the mage was ready and sent a fireball into the one that pursued him, climbing high enough to be out of their reach. He turned just in time to see Trey launch himself at the attacker and disappear into the man’s robes. As he quickly ran through his spells for what would be best, he saw the iron club of Kasaima land just above where the rat had disappeared. He cringed at the thought of what it might have done if Trey was still there. Pushing that out of his mind he looked to the others still entangled in the vines to see which he might help to get free.
***
Aldwin struggled and panicked but could not weaken the grip of the vines. Rita focused specifically on bringing her foot up, closer to her hand, for a secret weapon that she had almost completely forgotten about.
Ever since her path became set on becoming a scout, she wanted to emulate the heroic scouts of legend. One of their legendary tricks she remembered was a knife tucked into the heel of the boot, so that even when disarmed and staring down the blade of an adversary, they had one last attack at hand. Unfortunately, Rita could see no way of keeping the knife in place without the handle sticking out except by sewing the whole knife into the handle. As a young man, the hidden knife was somewhat embarrassing to talk about, and Rita had never had a need to mention it or remember it...until now.
She wedged her toes into the crevices of the ice-covered vines as her fingers clasped the seam of her boot. The nails were just sharp enough to tear the thread. Quickly she peeled off the heel and grasped the small knife and shoved it into the vine against her thigh. The sudden wound sent a jolt through the vine around her hips, just long enough for her to slip the knife between her armor and the vine. The vines tightened again, but recoiled as the sharp blade dug in. Rita pulled her free arm back in, drawing the vines in to for the knife to slice through. The vines kept growing towards them, and Rita twisted and rolled in the dirt to pierce the vines in her legs.
On the field elsewhere, the warming rays melted the unnatural ice, though the vines persisted and were strengthened by it. Kasaima and Yuèliàng were well-matched in trading blows, but Yuèliàng was smaller and faster, able to dart in and cut with his sword.
Finally, Rita cleared enough vines to stand up, slightly off-balance from her heelless boot. She saw Kasaima and the stranger fight, but focused immediately on her fallen sword, buried under the vines. A fresh set of unwounded vines stretched out to grab her. They were little more than vipers to Rita. Not something she'd ever personally faced, but something she had often dreamed of fighting. With her scouting instincts on full blast, she jumped back towards a free spot as the vines rushed past. They pivoted in mid-lunge, the coils on the ground twisting in turn. Just as she hoped. With a stab and a swing upwards, she pried one loose vine up with her knife; with her opposite hand, she grabbed the practice sword and yanked it free. It was too blunt to do any cutting, but it did give her two advantages: range and leverage.
***
Talo was trying to push dirt back into the trench he had made when movement in the camp caught his eye. A strange cloud seemed to be forming over the encampment. He blinked in disbelief as he also saw vines entangling his companions and a voice starting to speak. As the cloud dissipated, he saw a man wielding a sword and Kasaima readying his club. Instantly his combat instincts kicked in and he started to charge toward the fight. Suddenly he realized he had no idea how to fight as a dragon. A moment later he knew what he must do. It was risky but the only way to help. He mentally released his body to the dragon’s instinct and with a roar launched into the battle.
***
Rita turned her attention towards Aldwin, who was still pinned to the ground. The curse was starting to accelerate on him, and his nose and lips had a stiff yellow hook to them. "Careful! Easy!" she tried to call out over Talo's roars. While her off hand bucked and battered the approaching vines, her knife quickly sawed through one vine, then the other. Rita barely had time to pull him up by the wrist before another vine burst through the ground.
The dragon saw two he knew were friends freeing themselves from the vines. If they could clear themselves enough, he could use his most deadly weapon, but not until then. His size alone gave him a formidable weapon however and he opened his mouth prepared to bite. But before he was near enough his head hit something cold and hard thrusting his head, then his body skyward. To Talo’s great surprise the dragon felt pain. Not from the impact but from a deep cold that ran through his jaw. Spreading his wings the dragon used his redirected momentum to take to the sky. This puny being would pay dearly for his actions on the dragon’s next attack.
By now, Kasaima was bleeding in several places. Worse, ice seemed to be slowly forming on Kasaima as he fought, despite the heat radiating from his club. "What trickery is this?!"
"It is simple. Cold is the absence of heat. I'm simply draining your heat away from you. A fitting end for a monster like you. Your kind will never betray us again!"
"I and my clan serve the ruler of Zhongguo. *We* have never betrayed the Emperor. I shall continue to serve until my death!"
"Then die," said Yuèliàng. The frost covered Kasaima's arms and his club fell and went out. His body began to turn pale as his body heat was drained away, until he fell to the ground beside his club.
Aldwin watched in horror as Kasaima fell. This stranger was far beyond their ability to intervene directly. She ducked as Nyein swooped in and blasted a fireball at the perimeter. Seeing a path clear, Rita pulled Aldwin up by his feathery arm and practically shoved him through. "Aldwin! Get to the Keep! Bring help! Go!" Aldwin stumbled on his webbed feet as the vines tried to trip him up.
***
Seeing Rita using her practice sword he thought of a better way to help. He knew a metamorphic casting that would greatly improve the weapon. This school of magic was far from his best, but the situation called for taking chances. After a moment of concentration he began the casting. Using both words and gestures he threw the spell on Rita’s sword. He had no more than finished when he found himself spun about by the huge form of a dragon passing close to him.
Rita felt her practice sword sag with weight and hefted it anew. The sword was darker and glossier like polished stone. A petrification spell! It wasn't iron, but it was strong and hard enough to cleave through the vines.
***
Rorlyn glided eastward once again as he zig-zagged down the valley. His briefing before he started the patrol had reported a small encampment that had lasted a few days. It was a point of interest mostly because it seemed the Oni that had been visiting the library was among them. Another of the local avians had told him that there was now a red and gold dragon at the same site. While this could be trouble, the peaceful nature of those camped there set the gryphon’s mind at ease. Turning back to the west he saw a group of scouts making their way south. Even with his eagle-like vision seeing them was not easy, but to know they were around if needed was always a good thing.
His reflections came to an end as he heard something that needed immediate attention. Dragons do not usually roar for no reason. Not only the rareness of a roar but the nature of this one having the unmistakable tone of anger caused the gryphon to increase his speed and his course was now directed to its source. He hoped the patrol he had spotted would be doing the same.
***
Even after Rita had freed the vines around him, Aldwin was stunned. He had never seen a battle between mages before, and never felt so completely overpowered by an enemy so utterly indifferent to his presence. It had taken all his strength to come to terms with battling a straw effigy of himself yesterday, but to be battling the elements of earth and air themselves, Aldwin was powerless.
Rita's sharp words were the only things that broke through his stunned haze, and the only thing that kept his wobbly legs moving, dodging around vines and fleeing the raucous battle behind him. Yes, the woods were clearly much safer than the madness behind him. But no! This wasn't a retreat! This was a mission! He just had to get away from the battle and find his bearings, so that he could get to the Keep, and alert them to this ambush!
He hesitated at the edge of the tree line, trying to find a clear trail to get through the thick woods. A vine brushed against his foot. After his feet had changed into bird's feet, he'd stopped wearing his shoes. Aldwin kicked away the vine and felt his pants slip. For the first time, he realized his body was rapidly changing from the curse. His pants had slipped down to the middle of his thighs, which were themselves sinking into his chest. Feathers had already covered his waist, protecting his modesty.
Another vine smacked his leg. Seeing no alternative, Aldwin leapt into the woods, and almost immediately crashed into a prickly shrub. He fell back and jumped forward as another vine kept reaching for him. How far into these woods until he was free of them? It was as if the vines had a mind of their own, intent on trapping their easiest victim!
Between the shrub and the vine and the subsequent dash, Aldwin lost his pants at some point. A layer of feathers had completely engulfed him from his upper legs to his cheekbones. His arms were stretching outward, sticking out awkwardly from his shoulders, as rough down and smooth quills covered them to his wrists.
Of course! Flying! If he could just get some wind under his new wings, he could fly to the Keep! No more running through the woods! Thoughts of soaring on the thin air above were quickly broken by another slap of the vines.
Height! What he needed was height! He jumped up to the nearest tree and began scrambling up it. He'd always been pretty good at climbing trees as a kid, but his task was made much more difficult by the creeping ivy climbing behind him, and the weakening fingers in front of him. Stubbornly, he pushed himself forward, grabbing the next bough with paddle-like hands.
Flashes of light and heat poured through the breaks in the leaves. Yet all Aldwin could focus on was climbing. He was twenty feet up, maybe twenty-five. He grabbed a branch and lifted himself up. His shoulders were straining against the awkward position he'd forced them into. His body felt like it was being twisted in one direction by strong ropes, while he was yanking himself in another direction. He stopped to rest his chin on the branch—a chin that was no longer there. He tried to grab the branch with his elbows, but it was too late. His feet had already given way.
Aldwin dangled from the branch by his wing-arms as the vines reached upwards towards him, pulling away from the trunk they were climbing to try to pull him back down. A downed bird, of course, was already dead. Aldwin would not let himself be downed that way. But his fingers were growing weaker, sinking into nubs, as the feathers overwhelmed them.
‘Drop’, a voice told him. ‘Drop and change. Become the bird that you are.’ Aldwin looked down, pressing his beak against his chest. The whole forest seemed to shutter, the vines weaving and unweaving like a giant maw ready to swallow him.
No! He needed more height! He kicked the vine aside and closed his eyes. He lowered one arm, and with reckless abandon, swung forward and grabbed the tree. He lost his grip on the branch above, but his other hand clutched the tree and gripped it. His knees, already sunken into his chest, squeezed the tree as his clawed feet dug in for purchase, and he lunged upwards, grabbing a higher section of tree. Some strange resurgence of strength entered his fingers, even as the feathers twisted and spiraled between the cracks. All Aldwin could think of was escape, reaching forward and pulling himself away from the pit beneath him, towards the open sky, towards freedom.
***
Yuèliàng heard the dragon roaring and cursed. He’d foolishly let himself lose track of what was going on! Worse, he could see another winged creature approaching. ‘We have to leave!’ Yuèjiàn warned. ‘I am well made, but I cannot hold off an army! Also, that oni was telling the truth!’
‘So it seems. I don’t understand! And I don’t think I’m likely to get a chance to explain either!’ Yuèliàng could mentally kick himself all he wanted, but he’d done what he’d always been warned against: rushed into battle without learning about the enemy.
He took a defensive stance. These were his enemies because he made them so. He could not, in honor, harm them. But he needed time to think, to understand what he’d learned, and to figure out how to make any reparations. The dragon roared as it flew closer. Time was almost out! Yuèliàng hastily created a shield of ice in the dragon’s path of flight, hoping to deter it.
After ricocheting off from the enemy’s ice shield the dragon continued to soar upward. He glanced around at the battlefield and saw that all but one of the friendly combatants had cleared the area. He continued to gain altitude until those on the ground looked as small as ants. Now was the time. He would have clearly been out of the enemy’s sight, and he was free to make whatever maneuver he needed. He chose to make a dive directly overhead, as it would give the least amount of opportunity for him to be seen.
Drawing his wings inward he began to fall in a controlled manner, gaining speed as his range narrowed. He had to be accurate, he knew, for the one remaining combatant was vulnerable to this attack. He held some hope that the icy cocoon that the enemy had placed him in would provide enough shelter for him to use a goodly amount of his fire on the enemy. He gave a toothy grin as the distance grew smaller. He felt the organ in his mouth come to life which within seconds would engulf the enemy in lethal Flame.
‘I can defend you for a time,’ Yuèjiàn said, ‘This land is rich in magic. Use it to perform the Eclipse Technique. I sense a cave not too far from here and I think it is well-hidden.’
Yuèliàng nodded. Normally he would never consider using the Eclipse Technique by himself: it was a costly effect. But with the magic of the land, he could just possibly manage to use it to escape. Yuèjiàn would defend him.
***
By this time Rita had grabbed her bow and arrows and taken some time to inspect the battlefield. She only now noticed that the vines didn't cover the entire campsite; they branched outward from three specific areas. Oddly enough, one of those areas was growing fewer vines than the other two, with stems that shot upwards several feet before drooping down.
Of course! Each of those three areas had been where one of their party had been standing. Aldwin and she had been on one side, Trey and Kasaima on another. The last set of vines must have been aimed for Nyein.
She didn't know much about magic, but she could guess that the swordsman had acted alone. No one else had created those vines. With him locked in combat, he wasn't about to create any more vines. There were still new vines growing, but only from those three stems. If she could take those out, the battlefield should be clear.
***
Nyein had recovered sufficient Mana to resume casting spells. The difficulty was he was the only target left and the enemy could swat him like a fly. Had no more than cleared the area then he felt a great warmth upon his back, so hot that it nearly brought pain to his mind. Moving as quickly as he could he glanced upward and saw the huge mass of a dragon spewing a tight stream of orange and white flame directly upon the man. Now he knew there was only one thing left to do.
The dragon relentlessly poured his flame out upon the spot where the attacker had stood. Then with a great push of his wings he released his flames and drove himself High into the air again. He looked back to see the ground still covered in flames, the Earth itself, in places, from above seemed to be molten. While he could not see the target clearly due to the smoke and flames, he felt certain that he had met a fiery end. He gave a smile of great contentment but then his attention was drawn to another flier that was closing in on him rapidly. At this distance it was difficult to tell what it was. From what he could see he felt certain it was an avian, but one of great size. Something in the back of his mind seemed to assure him whatever was approaching him was not a threat. With this calming voice getting louder he began a slow turn so as to meet the new arrival.
As the dragon’s fire reached down, Yuèjiàn both deflected and absorbed it, keeping Yuèliàng safe. The Eclipse Technique took a great deal of time to use and was usually only done in major battles. Besides the dread caused by the illusion making it seem someone was blotting out the sun, it also gave complete cover for the person using it and all allies.
The gryphon was now close enough to see the battlefield and he shuddered at the sight. Most of the cape was in flames and he saw what appeared to be one body on the ground. Returning his gaze to the dragon, Rorlyn saw that it was approaching him but not in a hostile manner. Suddenly the gryphon’s ear folded flat in a protective reflex. The sound surprised him as there were no storm clouds in the sky, but that sound had clearly been thunder. After his survey of the sky, he turned his attention back to the dragon. Rorlyn’s beak dropped open in surprise as it was tumbling toward the ground.
“Pull up,” he cried as loud as he could. “Spread your wings.”
The dragon had hardly begun the turn when something hit him. His head was snapped back and his wings painfully pushed backward. The world spun both visually and mentally. He desperately fought to clear his mind and only someone’s screaming told him what must be done. He spread his wings and for a moment continued to descend. Then as he pushed them downward, he once again came back to level flight. His mind finally cleared, he looked at the camp to see a figure standing in the midst of the dying flames with a sword raised and pointed at him.
Pure draconic rage answered the threat.
Flying at top speed, his mouth already alight with flame, he closed distance. With one mighty roar he sprew a ball of fire at the man. Before it reached him it flattened and spread, finally being pushed back directly at the dragon engulfing it. But then the dragon was also pushed back as the fireball had been. First rising into the sky and then tumbling to the ground, still flaming in his own fire.
Seeing what was happening Rorlyn flew to the side, flanking the dragon’s attacker. Seeing what was happening he immediately cast what appeared to be a ball of lightning at him. As it drew close however a number of fingers of light reached out for the man. As the first one touched him the blade of the sword turned a silvery white and drew all the other fingers into it. As the last one vanished a bolt erupted from the sword, striking the gryphon in the chest and pushed him away from its owner.
As Rorlyn attempted to shake off the effect of the lightning that had gotten through his shield he saw the man take a different stance and the blade turn orange. Now Rorlyn found himself in a storm of sharp stone shards that burst from the earth itself, pelting him relentlessly. Much to his amazement some of these also penetrated his shield, each partly embedding itself in his skin.
While the gryphon was under attack the dragon had gotten to his feet. Staggering forward he released another ball of fire which missed its mark but exploded close enough to the warrior to set his back ablaze. With unbelievable speed the man took a new stance while the blade turned blue. From the stream that ran along the edge of the clearing a column of water rose and arced towards him. It lightly flowed over him, extinguishing the flames, before becoming narrow and rushing in the direction of the wounded gryphon. The half avian found himself being thrown backward by the force of the water casting him into the wood, breaking limbs, and branches along the way.
***
The canopy was still several feet above Aldwin when the trunk suddenly narrowed, and the branches barely strong enough to hold his weight. He was about fifty feet up now, which was about as good as the trees around here would get. There was a clear view of the battle. A dragon and a gryphon were doing battle against the stranger. A column of water suddenly erupted from the stranger's sword and struck the gryphon, who flew backwards and crashed into the same tree Aldwin stood in, twenty feet below. With a startled squawk, Aldwin fell backwards off his branch.
A memory flashed before Aldwin's eyes. A memory of stepping carelessly out an open hayloft, desperately reaching back for a rope, the ground rushing up and crushing the air out of him. As Aldwin fell, those same arms, still sore from his extended climb, now reached outward for the wind. As if a door had suddenly come unbolted, there was a rush of wind through his mind, knocking down all thoughts, all worries, everything that had been human, even the tunic that fell off his head and disappeared behind him. All of it would have been forgotten, save for one strong thread that tightened around his human thoughts and held them in his mind—something the albatross could not bother to aid at the moment.
The albatross felt himself being lifted, gliding as if on a slope of air pushing against his long wings. In an instant, he was flapping and twisting himself around the intertwining branches, searching desperately for that column of open air to hold his open wings. The world was getting darker on all sides. The albatross beat his wings even harder towards a single thread of the blue sky. The lashing twigs and smothering leaves fell away behind him. He held his wings out and let a current of air sweep him up and above a sea of green forest.
He glided over the trees, free and safe, wings motionless as the air carried him north.
It was several minutes before his eyes caught the flash of a river, and the albatross turned towards it, feeling a deep emptiness inside of him that only fish could fill.
***
Reaching down inwardly, Yuèliàng pulled on the magic and let it flow through him. He held his free hand aloft and overhead the sun began to darken as an unnatural eclipse began to cover it. The darkness spread from the ground as well, reaching out around him. He felt the strain as he tried to complete the spell. He felt something else too but ignored it. The attacks were getting worse, and he knew even Yuèjiàn had its limits.
***
Rita hacked at the nearest cluster of vines, the ones where she and Aldwin had been standing. The one by Kasaima and Trey seemed to have been destroyed by Talo's fire. Arrows had been less than effective at getting at the heart of the vines. The biggest problem was that with two sets of vine growths, one could protect the other, but Rita had no one to protect her. She could hack at one or the other but could not make a finishing stab without the other trying to pull her down.
A darkness fell around her. She looked up, startled as the sun seemed to have turned as black as night, leaving a ring of fire behind. More magic? She looked around, but the mage seemed to have disappeared.
Yuèjiàn also drew upon the energies of the Valley to bolster it. This was a battle gone terribly wrong. Turning back to the dragon, who still struggled to stay on his feet, the now green blade focused on him. Dozens of vines flowed over the scaled body, dragging him down to the ground.
Rita's eyes widened. Talo was down! She dove into the tall grass before the hidden mage noticed her.
Rorlyn, lying beneath the pile of broken wood, thanked his stars that his shield had held against the fury of the attack.
“Rorlyn, are you hurt?” a quiet voice asked from above him. He looked upward and saw Nyein hanging there.
“Somewhat but nothing serious I would say.”
“I am Nyein, an apprentice mage of Master Myrtice. Is there any way I could aid you?”
***
Finally, Yuèliàng finished and the whole of the area was smothered in unnatural darkness and fog through which only he could see.
With the last of his strength, Yuèliàng walked from the field as fast as he could. He longed to run, but his legs would not support that. He followed Yuèjiàn’s directions to the cave, hiding in what cover he could find. He narrowly avoided a party of searchers: how had they gotten here so quickly?
In the time they took to pass, the spell began to break and the eclipse began to end. He only just made it into the cave as the supernatural darkness and fog ended. With the last of his energy, he thrust Yuèjiàn ceremoniously into the earth, so it would stand erect, waiting a new partner.
For, as he lay down, he felt sure he’d be found and slain. And he deserved it.