I hummed under my breath as this annoying song which had been leading the charts for a few weeks barged into my head and started playing on its own. Beside me, Yaora didn't appear to care. Or was it because I've done my best keeping the humming to a minimum so as to not shock him because it's something they hadn't heard before in this world?
Either way, if the dragonkin was sultry the previous days, he was sultrier now. As we walked, he slapped a protruding branch out of the way a little too loudly, his tongue clicking with the motion. His claws brushed against the brittle vines hanging from it and they snapped into two, but not without the audible snipping sound echoing into the forest.
Wouldn't we be discovered early by the netherbeast colony if we kept making sure we announced our presence? I looked behind me to find none of our other party members behind us. It's only natural, though. They're in similar pairs scouting other parts of the reported scope of the mission.
I was just that unlucky to end up being paired with the grumpy dragonkin who made it clear from the beginning that he didn't want me around.
Yaora planted his foot against a fallen log and kicked it away with a force enough to send it arcing in the air before slamming into a thicker, upright trunk. Splinters flew into the air as the log burst into a shower of broken wood, scaring a flock of birds out of their nests and sending them flittering into the wide sky.
"Dude, chill out," I raised my arms in a placating gesture. "What's with you today?"
Green scales glinted against the meager sunlight bursting through spaces in the canopy as he turned to me. "I don't like your guts, Chrysvern," he said, referring to me by my last name even though my first was relatively easier to pronounce. "Especially now. Sending us into danburki territory like it was no big deal. You must have a bag of bravado shoved up your crack, didn't you?"
"Uh...no?" I blinked. What did that mean anyway? "You agreed to it, though. In the meeting. So why are you throwing a fit now?"
Yaora scoffed, a plume of smoke puffing from his flaring nostrils. His fangs peeked at me when he spoke next. "That's just to save face," he said. "It'd be awkward if I was the only one who refused. Cavya would have ruled we go anyway. You've convinced him right from the start."
Ah, so he's a victim of conformity too. "Still, you should have stood your ground if you really didn't want to go here. You might have been able to explain your side," I said. "Cavya would have "considered it in making his final decision."
Yaora huffed, but didn't push anymore. He knew he had had some fault as well.
"But it seemed deeper than that," I said. His eyes snapped up to me like he was surprised I was able to gather as much. "You haven't liked me since I got to Dragnasand, even as far back as the day Mirani found me."
At that, a derisive laugh tore out of his scaled throat. "You just remind me of Lunare," he said. "So full of hope, life, and ideals. She's the light of Dragnasand, that even Mirani paled in comparison. She's a remarkable woman, a thing of legend."
Hearing Yaora speak of someone with this much respect dripping out of his tone was kind of a unique experience.
"Where is she now?" I ventured.
"Dead," came the flat reply. Just one word, but it carried such a significant weight and finality.
"I'm sorry," I said.
Yaora's scales clinked when he rolled his shoulders. I never mentioned how much his upper body resembled a crocodile just with longer arms, but now, we're here. "Not your fault," the dragonkin said, wiping his snout with the fleshy side of his hands. "She followed her convictions until the very end, and without her, we wouldn't be where we are now. We won't be Dragnasand's best adventurers. We'd just be nutters on the street, looking for the next tavern to waste away until dawn."
"Was it a big assignment?" I asked. Why was I even curious about this? Shouldn't I leave this in the past and focus on our duty at hand?
Yaora's slitted eyes never really stayed in one place for more than a few seconds, so I guessed he was still doing the job. "At the time, yes," he said. "But this one's bigger, even by our standards."
I stepped forward when Yaora abruptly stopped, almost causing me to bump into the spiked scales lining his back. Thank God, I was able to catch myself. The dragonkin turned to me. "Cavya might look like he has the world at his paws, but let me tell you, as someone who has been with him since the beginning," he said. "He doesn't, Chrysvern. He's only a langkoor with a rapier, and being with Lunare, and now, you, seems to make him forget that."
"Is that why you're trying to hold me back a number of times?" I asked. "Why you hold Cavya and everyone back?"
Yaora didn't bother looking at me, instead surging forward by tearing a wall of hanging vines and overgrown shrubs with his bare hands. "I don't want another Lunare," he said. "The shadow it cast upon us was so great we wouldn't be rid of it until the next life. Mirani, most of all, even if she doesn't show it."
Was Lunare the person Mirani had been referring to when she talked about grieving and losing people?
"Be careful, Kora," he ducked under a tangle of thick branches he wouldn't be able to slap into oblivion without hurting his palms. "As much as you're a pain in the ass, none of us want to lose you like we lost her."
"But wasn't that the life of an adventurer?" I wondered aloud. As long as they're doing this job, shouldn't they be used to it by now? They talked of death like it's an everyday occurrence. Shouldn't grieving be an automatic emotion for them? Wouldn't it be that way for me, a little bit down the road as well?
Yaora scoffed. "I'll pretend you didn't just assume we're rigid creatures with that statement," he said. "We know the dangers of this job even before we chose this path, but losing people...it doesn't get any easier. Rather, it becomes harder with age. I don't know why."
Maybe because with age came the depth to be able to love someone more than one's self? As we get older, the more our heart opens, the more we realize the brevity of the life we've been given. And with that, we tried to enjoy it with as many people as we could, to make sure our lives meant something to them once we did depart.
There's fear in everyone's heart, and in most of us, there lived a fear of our life amounting to nothing after living it. We wouldn't get any redos, which made us want to do our best on our first try. And most of the time, that fear was the one driving us forward, to wake up each day and attempt to make a difference.
"I appreciate you telling me that, by the way," I said. When I got no reply, I tore my eyes away from a bush with bright blue blades swirling upwards like a spout of water and huge, pink buds shaped like artichokes drooping in bunches. There was no one with me. "Yaora?" I called.
No answer. Where did he go? Did he just leave me? How long had I spaced out because of this interesting bush?
I blew a breath and drove my hair off my forehead—to no avail, of course. "That's just great," I muttered under my breath and made to move forward when a flash of purple in my periphery caught my attention. Eyebrows knitted, I crept past the exotic bush and stretched out an arm. My fingers touched the heart-shaped leaves of a tree whose name I wouldn't ever know and brushed them back. A strange symbol which was glowing with a faint purple light burst into view.
It didn't appear like it was carved into the wood with a chisel in a hurry. Otherwise, there would have been grooves. Rather, it seemed to have been imprinted with someone who either had the magic to do it or someone who had the talent to make symbols like this appear so smooth.
This one looked like an incomplete hourglass with a cross intersecting in its midpoint. Two hooked lines facing away from each other curved from the same midpoint, giving the whole figure some sort of tail. What was this? I wasn't versed in the scripts of Solarlume, not that it even had some when I was playing the game. Turning on the Speech Transfer spell in my skills list revealed nothing either.
Perhaps Cavya needed to see this. It might be connected to something far greater. And it would also make him acknowledge the gravity of this mission and our next ones after this should this prove to be more than we thought.
Drawing the dagger Mirani gave me before we left Dragnasand, I began chipping the symbol out of the bark. The wood caved in easily under my prodding, and within seconds, I had carved it out. The block was as large as my palm and it fit snugly against the space between the belt tied around my hips and my fitted vest.
Then, I started on the way back to camp, using my inner map to navigate this impossible forest. On the way, I examined the symbol and the bark it was etched into. No special magical effects curled off on it, and when I placed it in my inventory, the system wasn't able to detect anything weird. Even the name was harmless. Just block of wood.
By the time Mirani's barrier began glinting through the pockets of space in the undergrowth, I knew there was something wrong. Aggressive shouts, clangs of metal against something, and the unmistakable inhuman growling rang inside. I held out my arm and summoned my sword. My legs pumped forward, slashing vines out of my way.
Ahrian's audible cursing made me crane my neck to the tallest line of trees. On her shoulders sat a sniper brace with the gun itself sporting one of the longest muzzle I've ever seen. Of course, I've seen her clean it from time to time, but I've never actually seen it being used in battle until now.
"Stupid beast," Ahrian was saying under her breath before clicking her beak and shouting, "Mirani, keep it still!"
Mirani's breathy and strangled voice rang from inside the barrier. "I'm—trying!" she gasped and that propelled me to action, diving head first into battle without knowing anything.
"Where's Cavya?" I asked when I saw a flash of blue and gold zip towards my side.
"Out," came the short answer. That's all I needed.
I leveled my sword, blowing a breath as my eyes searched the area for the intruder. My gaze rested on a netherbeast resembling a cat crossed with a wolf enlarged to the size of a house. It's not a danburki. Far from it. And if it's giving Mirani a hard time on her own, then it must be of the same class. Or higher.
"Mirani, I'm going to need your attributes," I said, scrolling through my own skills list for the one I unlocked when I pushed my magic attribute past the second tier. It's a little bit like the perks for leveling up, except that the game seemed to have done away the concept of leveling entirely.
She nodded and stretched out an arm. "Borrow," I chanted as my fingers closed around her limb. Immediately, a pulsing red light erupted from my fingertips and soon, Mirani's skill list appeared beside mine. And wow, it's an impressive list.
There's not much time left before I ran out of MP to sustain the spell, so with a brief nod at Mirani, I jumped into the fray. The beast seemed to have sensed it because it lunged forward as well. My sword slammed against its skin. In a normal world, my blade would have drawn blood. Instead, the impact sent reverberations up my arm but didn't do anything to the beast apart from generate a shower of sparks. I leaped out of the way as it swiped its paw and snapped its teeth.
"I see why you're having a hard time," I said to Mirani who skidded away the same time as I did.
Mirani snorted. "Who said I was having a hard time?"
Then, she screamed and charged once more. I followed in her wake, executing as many of her skills and physical attributes as I could while my MP could handle it. None of our attacks penetrated deep enough, but some did draw streaks of purple blood. Mirani grunted and shrieked, slamming her sword again and again, dancing out of the way whenever the beast's fangs, furry tail, or claws came dangerously close.
Together, we pushed the beast from both sides, giving it no way but to retreat. Further. Further. "Move!" came Ahrian's urgent caw.
I scampered aside just as a streak of pure, magical energy blasted into the beast's exposed flank. The beam exploded into a grand display of fire and light, enveloping the beast's matted gray fur. The impact sent a flurry of wind, strong enough to send dust into a frenzy. The grass rustled with the wind generated by the motion of the beast falling sideways with a thud.
Was it over?
I disabled my spell. The words flashed in the corner of my menu. Borrow. An intermediate spell by a member of the valdyrsi. Lets the user view and use the attributes of their target. This skill is activated by physical touch and uses a considerable amount of MP. Cooldown in 2h. 1h, 59m, and 59s. 1h, 59m, and 58s...
I turned to Mirani to congratulate her on such a huge skill but only registered the horror in her face. When I looked at the beast, I knew the reason behind it. As if Ahrian's bullet didn't happen, the beast was back on all fours, head lowered and fangs bared. Not a speck of blood, dirt, or even ash lined its fur.
Basically, we're screwed.
"Kora, is there anything else you can do?" Mirani asked, edging backwards. Her boots couldn't have crunched against the grass as loudly as they did. "Some hidden spell?"
I swallowed against the growing lump of fear in my throat. "Low-level ones," I replied. "I guess Ahrian's at her limit too?"
Mirani didn't need to nod. It's all too obvious. The magic attribute placed on that beam of light was greater than any of us could channel out in our lifetime. It would be a miracle if Ahrian was still conscious after that.
"What now?" I dared to ask.
Mirani didn't get to answer because the beast launched itself towards us. The wind drove my hair off my forehead as I scrambled aside, barely avoiding the spiked fur coating its tail. She whipped behind it, priming her sword with a slash. The tail that's meant for me slammed into her side, sending her flying to the side.
"Mirani!" I started running in the direction she was bound to skid. A set of claws glinted in the sun on their way to cut me into shreds. I held my sword vertically, the metal squeaking and quivering as it connected with the claws. Damn it. Where did this beast come from? With a scream, I pushed against the paw, even when my own feet made trenches against the soft forest floor.
The beast opened its jaws and roared. The smell of rot hit me dead in the face. My focus flitted into the netherworld, leading me to lose my footing. A huge weight slammed against my gut, pinning me to the ground. The next thing I know, a huge, dark maw snapped for my head.
Guardians of the Gates of Life, strengthen your sword to vanquish the creatures of darkness. Be the guiding light, the power, and the glory to this world of sorrow. To Rhanlorke, the Lord of the Skies and the Bearer of the Divine Solar Fire, I offer you my devotion. Punish those who defy the power of the Divines. Rhansangga—pierce!
My vision erupted into nothing but white light. A thick sheet of magic drowned me, making my ears ring with static. Was I being sent back to the real world? Was this the end? Was I dead?
"Get up," Cavya's stern but gentle voice ripped through my stupor. I waved my hand in front of my face, driving out the thin veil of dust flying in the air, and rolled to my feet. There was our leader, his stylish suit still pristine. The thin slot where his rapier used to hang from his side was empty. Where was it?
Was he the one who was chanting earlier? What's up with that needlessly long litany, anyway?
"Kora, are you alright?" Mirani's footsteps stopped when she saw me standing. "Oh, thank the Divines."
Seeing her moving and alive made me thank whoever those people were as well. Which reminded me...what happened?
Cavya had disappeared in front of me. Through the hiss of the settling wall of debris, I saw him stalk towards a huge gray lump which could only have been the beast. Wait, how did it grow a horn?
Except it wasn't a horn. The dust cleared, giving me a full view of what went on. Cavya's rapier stuck out of a stump which used to be the beast's head. I did see how his sword made netherbeast explode into blood and bones, but this...
It's on an entirely different level.
Yaora's words came back to me. Being with you makes him forget that he's just a langkoor with a rapier.
But he wasn't just a langkoor with a rapier. Witnessing what he was capable of just now told me he was more. He had always been more than that.
The blade made a sickening squelch as it popped free of the beast's headless carcass. "This has gone farther than I'd like," Cavya said. When he turned to us, his narrowed eyes and bared fangs made me glad he wasn't my enemy. Not this time. "We finish this tomorrow. I'm sick of this forest."
And that's final.