by Dakota Krout
“You have a sick sense of humor, don’t you?”
“Just move, ya abyssal brat.”
“Fine!” Andre climbed the twisting ladder, squeezing himself into the opening at the top and becoming instantly and thoroughly unimpressed by the accommodations.
“Home sweet home.” Xan fondly stated, climbing up behind him.
“This is… ‘home’?” Andre irreverently scoffed.
“You’ll come to love it.” Xan clapped Andre on the shoulder. He seemed far more relaxed, now that they were off the ground. “Took me a while too, a couple hundred years ago.”
“Hundred…! I thought Druids were supposed to love nature?” Andre looked at the man askance. “Why are you adamant about getting away from it?”
“Look, yes, I love nature; but nature really loves to kill and eat you. So,” his words were steel, “Let’s stop getting snarky with the guy keepin’ us alive, hmm?”
“I mean… sure, fine, fair enough.” Andre sighed but then perked up and looked over hopefully. “Ready to start teaching me to Druid?”
“Wow. ‘Teaching me to Druid’. That’s… that's a new one. Yeah, may as well. The faster you learn, the faster I’m free of you. Lesson one: get some food. This is an apple tree; convince it to grow some apples,” Xan ordered his Initiate offhandedly. “Good night.”
“Ok!” Andre stared at the tree for a long moment, then looked back at Xan, who was starting to climb out of the window. “How?”
“Establish a connection to the tree, open your mana to the tree, and politely ask it to give you apples. You will be giving it everything it needs to grow them, so it won’t matter that it is out of season. If the tree accepts, it will give you apples. Depending on how much power you give, it will produce more apples. Contingent upon how much it respects you, the tree will give you better-tasting apples.” Xan explained verbosely.
“Whoa. That’s a lot of words for you.” Andre earned a glare with his attempt at a joke. “What do you mean by ‘ask it’?”
“If you have mana going into it, the tree will be able to understand your intentions.” Xan replied frostily. “I hope you succeed, as I just decided that you will be getting all your own food from now on. Hope you brought something in your pack.”
“Well, that’s just plain rude.” Andre put his hand on the tree. “How do I open my mana channels?”
“Carefully.”
“You know, the sooner you are done teaching me, the faster you can go back to being a lonely curmudgeon…”
“Insufferable little… you had better knock that off. Respect in all things. This is your last warning. Listen, Initiate, mana has certain qualities, and can act like water or gas. Theoretically, it could be a solid, but that has never been seen before. When mana is passed directly, it goes where it is needed in that organism to increase its natural functions.”
“Is this going somewhere, or…?” Andre was getting grumpy from lack of information, and he was hungry.
Xan was visibly restraining himself, but also slowly climbed back through the window and stood at his full height. “You need to learn patience. That is the art of the Druid. Seriously, you don’t understand anything. The backlash of the things you’re asking for could crush you like an insect-”
“Any time now, old man.”
“That’s it! You’re an infant playing with blasting rods! Time for you to be taught respect, since you won’t give it!” Xan glared at the wood Andre was standing on. In an instant, two spikes shot up and impaled Andre’s feet. Andre screamed and toppled backward, but never touched the floor. More wood rushed up, wrapping around him like vines. One went around his mouth, tightly, cutting off his screaming. Andre stared at Xan in horror, appalled and shocked at the sudden brutality.
“I did warn you. Nature is violent.” Xan stood up, walked over to the ladder, and started climbing down. “Tomorrow, I’ll see if you have a new outlook on being a Druid. Until then, think about something for me: you have always been large, yes? Muscular? The girls fawn over you, people laugh at your mindless ‘witty’ banter? Even at your choosing ceremony, you were the ‘extra-special Druid’?”
He scoffed and moved downward. “You have no respect for the power you have the potential to wield, and apparently none for me. You won’t die overnight, but you had better decide what kind of person you’ll be. If you choose wrong… I’ll kill you myself, and deal with the consequences of that action. The world has no need of another rogue Druid, and this place does not suffer fools. I refuse to lose my life trying to teach you. Sleep well, Initiate.”
With that, Xan climbed down the ladder fully, leaving Andre with tears streaming down his face, blood dripping out of his feet, and eyes begging not to be left alone for one of the first times in his life.
Chapter Eleven
- Luke -
Luke skirted around the pool of water that he had fallen into, inspecting the waterfall that was seemingly pouring from the sky. There was no evidence that the cave he had jumped from had ever existed. The world just ended behind the falls. He crawled to the edge of the land and peered over, gasping at the scene.
This place was full of surprises, it seemed. The entire world was shaped like a massive corkscrew, seemingly held aloft by nothing. Far, far to the north, he could see the earth turn and slope downward, which was apparently the only way down without wings. There was a strange fog that roiled everywhere, making seeing any real distance a trial in itself. Near the platform he was on, it wasn’t so bad, but it was already thick in the area just below the edge.
“Amazing,” Luke whispered aloud. He pushed himself up, dusting off his clothes. Deciding he had better start looking for shelter, he filled his empty water skin from the falls and started walking down the gently sloping land. Just then, he realized that his clothes were already dry. How had that happened?
“Everything is downhill.” Luke realized that he was speaking out loud a lot, not due to insanity, but mainly to stave off the crushing loneliness. “Well. Downhill, unless I want to come back here…”
He began searching for anything that could be used for shelter or a fire, but across the vast plain, there was only longish blue-hued grass. Not wanting to start an out-of-control fire, and due to the environment not being cold, he simply kept walking until he heard an odd sound.
*Thud.*
*Thud.*
The sound kept repeating, sometimes punctuated with a high-pitched squeal. He pushed aside the long blue grass blocking his vision, and tried his best to understand what he was seeing. Two long lines of what appeared to be tiny goats stood facing each other, and every few seconds, one goat would charge an opposing one and bash heads. He moved a little closer, scrutinizing their heads. They had four eyes - two on each side of their head - and recognized extensive horns protruding from the tufted hair of their small heads.
“What the abyss?” He was still talking out loud, not yet realizing what a mistake that was. The massive herd of tiny goats turned toward him, many letting out bugling screams. Differences apparently forgotten, the two lines ran and jumped at him, gaining speed quickly. Far too fast for him to block them. They bounced forward, the leading one reaching him and ramming his leg. It felt like Andre had just punched him as hard as he could, which made no logical sense when considering the size of the shin-high goat.
“Ow!” Luke screamed at the onslaught of the worst beating of his life. Well, worst beating so far. After only a few hits, his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees on the loamy ground. The goats then were able to reach much more of him, smacking into his body repeatedly. His back, luckily, was protected by his pack, and he started swinging his fists at the goats as they jumped at him. This was not a great success, as he started getting hit on his arms as well. Luke rolled forward and stumbled to his feet as the abuse continued, managing to start running back the way he had come.
The goats pursued, raining blows on him from all sides as he sprinted up the gentle slope. His legs were heavily bruised, like
ly fractured, and nearly gave out as he forced them to work. Luke dodged a few bounding goats and took a wild swing at one as it passed him, managing to hit the goat just behind the head where the skull connected to the spine.
The goat had locked its neck and spine into position to brace itself for impact; specifically, an impact from the front, which it could easily absorb. When it was hit from the top, it flopped to the ground with a broken neck. Just like that, Luke realized how to fight back. Shockingly powerful blows were still rocking his legs, but Luke set about punching as accurately as he could, felling a dozen of the oddly fragile goats in only a few minutes. A loud shriek sounded from where the goats had originated, and the remaining attackers abandoned their prey and sprinted off.
Luke collapsed, breathing heavily. The pain was becoming intolerable as his adrenaline wore off, and he rolled up his pant legs to assess the worst of the damage. Huge bruises were forming, and he could tell from the discoloration that his bones were splintered in several areas. Pulling the pants back down, he slowly and painfully started to collect the bodies of his fallen foes. Retrieving his hunting knife from his pack, he quickly cleaned and skinned them as tears rolled down his face. It was an odd, yet satisfying revenge.
Deciding that he would risk a grass fire, he gathered as much of the long blue grass as he could easily crawl at. Shuddering every once in a while when he jostled his legs, Luke made an impromptu camp and fireplace. He pulled out his bedroll and sat on it, trying to keep his weight off his swelling legs. Luke had absolutely zero idea what to do to help himself, but since he wasn’t bleeding… he didn’t know if binding them would help? Perhaps to keep the swelling down?
Trying to focus on what he could do, he pulled out some flint, and struck sparks into the grass. If there was a wildfire, at least it would kill all the goats as well! With a *whoosh*, the fire caught on the first strike, blazing very high; far too fast.
“Wahhh!” he yelled as he fell backward in an extra-manly way. Looking closer at the burning grass, he realized that it was giving off almost no smoke. While the fire was high, the grass was disappearing slower than he expected. Putting his hands out, he could feel that the flames were exceedingly hot already. Overall, both fire and water seemed to act oddly on this world, but he wasn't complaining.
While he was pulling the meat off the goat, he found something strange. Long years of proper care for hides had taught him how to collect them efficiently, and that meant taking the head off. Since he would need some tools to oil the hides later, he also removed the horns to eventually make some. That was when he saw the lightly glowing pearl. It was no larger than the toenail of his smallest toe, and he almost missed it. The fact that it was shining was the only reason he found it. Luke pulled the item out from the goat’s skull and held it up in the fading light. He gently set it down and checked the other carcasses. All of them had a glowing pearl, so he made sure to collect them. If he ever got out of here, he could sell them to a jewelry maker.
“Or Cindy would like it, I bet. I’ll owe her birthday presents…” He wiped away the tears that formed at the thought. His legs were broken; he likely wouldn’t survive a full week. Fighting the despair, Luke forced himself into motion. He placed the small cast iron pan his mother had packed onto the fire, cut off some fat from a small carcass, and used it to grease up the pan. When that started sizzling, he put on some of the meat, crudely frying it into something he hoped was edible. A few minutes later, he was staring at the cooked meat; praying that it wasn’t poisonous.
He ate all the meat that had been on the goat, and not noticing any ill effects, fried another entire creature. It took three of the creatures to fully satiate his gnawing hunger. After he was done, Luke reached for his water skin and took a few long pulls. It took him a moment to notice, but the water was burning in his throat and stomach, like the strongest alcohol he had ever tasted. He gasped, gulping in air in an attempt to alleviate the unexplained throbbing.
Allowing the discomfort to pass, he sipped a bit more water and swished it around in his mouth, spitting it out after a long moment. A cloud of blue vapor appeared, a cloud which quickly dissipated. It took a moment to realize that no liquid had reached the ground.
“What is this?” he looked at the water skin, more than a little concerned that he had just drunk whatever that was. Still feeling his stomach burning, he tried to discern if it was hurting him. As he waited, the burn resolved into a warm glow that seemed to fill his body. A sense of well-being settled over him, easing his pain and tempting him with lethargy. Knowing that he had to try to increase his supplies if he wanted to survive, he ignored the lethargy as much as possible, and began experimenting with the water.
“What are you?” he asked the ‘water’ as he poured some onto the dirt. Nothing happened, and it acted just like he expected water should. It slowly seeped into the ground, leaving a small wet spot. Next, he poured a bit onto the ground and spat on it. It evaporated instantly wherever the spittle hit it, releasing a small puff of vapor into the air that quickly vanished.
“Huh.” Pouring a bit more, Luke spat out a mouthful of saliva and the reaction was even more impressive. The vapor formed a translucent fog, which drifted away slowly; brushing against his arm. He winced as it stung him slightly. Looking at where it had touched him, he saw that a patch on his arm was now completely hairless.
“Should I be drinking this?” he nervously muttered. Then an idea hit him, and his eyes started to sparkle. Grabbing the pelt of one of the creatures, he worked up as much saliva as he could, made a hole in the dirt, and combined spit and water. The vapor streamed out of the hole and he held the pelt over it, making sure he coated the entire skin with the stuff. As the vapor started to dissipate, he watched the hair on the pelt begin to fall off, leaving it bare and soft. He poured the water on the bloody side, and the same reaction occurred without him needing to spit. Now both sides were clean and hairless.
“Perfect!” he celebrated. That would allow him to skip several steps in tanning, particularly the nasty ones that - without proper tools and chemicals - could only be done by soaking the pelt in urine and feces or letting it rot. He was now holding what should be rawhide when it dried. He pulled on it, testing how much effort it would take to stretch, and was impressed by how elastic the skin was.
“This is some high-quality hide…” Using some large rocks, he pulled the hide, stretching it as far as he could. After the first was set, he got up to get the other skins. “Wait.”
Luke stopped, realizing that something was… different. He took a step, and felt very little pain. Pulling up his pant leg, the bruises remained, but the horrid discoloration that indicated broken bits seemed to be less inflamed. “Is this healing water? Or is my mind failing me already? Was the bone not broken?”
He couldn’t say for certain that his leg had been broken, but it had certainly felt like it was. Luke returned to the pelts, repeating the process he had tried on the first, and soon had a pile of skins stretching under several rocks. “Another dozen of these, and I’ll be able to replace the pants they ruined with even better ones. Poetic justice, really.”
Digging a channel with his hands under the hairless skins, Luke formed a pit on one end. Collecting grass, much easier now that he could walk properly, he started a fire in the pit. Warm air moved through the ditch under the skins, and he hoped that they would properly dry. By the time he finished, the sun was just beginning to set.
Luke hunkered down and drank deeply from his water, grimacing at the burn and hoping the fire would keep away any goats that were looking for revenge.
Chapter Twelve
Two weeks passed quickly, and Luke had given up on hope of rescue. With all the other Initiates to manage, and a new personal apprentice, it was unlikely that the Archmage was going to devote too much time to rescuing him. Luke had long decided that he needed to find his own way out. He took a deep breath and held up the patchwork goat hide pants that he had made. “Not even close to perfect, but
good enough.”
He pulled on the stiff pants and stood up, looking around at his growing campsite. The grass had been working really well in lieu of firewood, and a handful of it burned as hot and long as an entire log of oak. He cracked his neck and looked in the direction of the goats. Luke had been forced to attack them a few times, basically whenever he was running low on meat. After half a month of getting battered and broken, he was finally getting the hang of fighting them, as well as gaining an understanding of how they attacked.
The trick was to hold still until the goat jumped, then sidestep and punch down. Also, whenever at least a dozen died, the rest would run away. He had still been overwhelmed a few times, but he was getting better. The water did seem to have healing properties, and when he was… damaged, Luke was always back on his feet in record time. “Time to make a spare shirt, and then get started on making hardened leather leg guards. I need to be able to take a few hits from these things.”
Luke was doing his best to distract himself, and throwing himself into work was the most logical thing to do. Had he been whisked away from everything he knew, and abandoned in an instant? Sure! But he had his tools, and his dad had told him to practice. This counted, right? Plus, there had to have been a ‘first’ human that had gone to another world. There had to be a way to learn how to escape, but it was likely not going to be near the entrance. No… Luke had to travel to find a way home, and the only possible direction was down.
He started whistling as he walked toward the goats. He was going to gorge himself on goat meat tonight to celebrate his first fortnight in… “Never named this place, did I? Let’s see… how about ‘Murder World’, since I don’t know what it actually is, and apparently everything here wants to kill everything else?”
*Chime*.
Ignoring that sound, which was very faintly emitting from his forehead and had happened a few other times with no explanation, Luke focused on his upcoming hunt. He was getting close to the goats, so he quieted down and started creeping through the grass. Just as every time before, the goats were locked in combat with each other. Luke had watched them long enough to realize that it wasn't just a mating competition. Every time one of the goats was knocked out, the winner would slowly eat them. Yup. The goats were omnivores, at the minimum. Their teeth screamed ‘carnivore’ though, which might explain the grass remaining long.
