“I made another leap, this time to a ledge further down than normal, around 35 feet. I wish I could have done otherwise, but I saw nowhere else to go. I hit the ledge hard and at a weird angle. One of my legs buckled under the pressure and deflected to the side where it rammed itself into a narrow crevasse. I tried to pull my foot free but could not before my pursuer caught up, landing on the same ledge right next to me.”
“It was an unusually thin yet scrappy looking beastman I did not recognize.”
“‘I do not know what clan you are from but I bet you must feel really proud slaying a bunch of naked exhausted kids without beastforms,’ I cried as I continued to pull on my leg. This was the only explanation I could think of. The murderer must be from another clan, engaging in such activity to limit Nest’s growth. The Blood Moon was sacred, clan members were not supposed to interfere, but the different clans also had a competitive streak and if it was achieved in secret than nothing would be done about it.”
“My pursuer laughed in response, then proceeded to correct my false assumption by claiming to be from Nest. I checked him over, his armor was in the proper design and arrangement for a wyvernman and wyverns were only found in Nest.”
“I did not believe it, could not. I demanded an explanation and sickeningly enough he gave me the answer. He was not doing this out of some sick, murderous desire to undermine the system all Othans live by. He was sent, ordered by the clan chief in order to preserve the system.”
“You see, like I said before, the timing of that Blood Moon had been most opportune. The snow had not arrived and the weather was mild, but the wyverns were slumbering. The clan chief anticipated this would mean a large number of successful wyvern forms this Blood Moon. Normally this would be a welcome thing. Wyvern forms were a great boon for the clan, but too many successful Blood Moons in the past decade had depleted the population of wyverns on the Dragonmount. The chief feared that if this Blood Moon were successful the wild population would be harmed for generations. Thus, they sent the man standing before me to wait at the top and silence all the climbers who made it.”
“The news shocked and terrified me but I knew that in a twisted way it made sense. Publically, no one could stop competitors from pursuing whatever prey they wanted so everything had to be done in secret.”
“‘So, I guess you finish me off now too?’ I asked my pursuer, giving up. I had no way out. I probably could not beat him in my best condition much less exhausted and with one leg trapped.”
“‘Hmmm, no,’ my pursuer replied. ‘I think it is best if I just leave you here like this. I was planning to simply push you off the ledge when I caught up. You would match everyone else that fell, but with your leg pinned like that, I may not be able to get you out without generating suspicious injures. It would be a pain to have to carry you back to the top and deal with your body like the rest. Besides, at this point, it does not matter. You are Fallen now or soon will be. Even if you find a way out no one will listen to your story.’”
“With that, the wyvernman left. His hands and feet transformed into claws and he climbed straight up the cliff as if it was nothing, leaving me alone.”
“It took me an hour to pull myself free but by then I knew the Blood Moon’s blessing had run out. Like the wyvernman said, I was Fallen. I climbed back down and just left, walking into the wilderness. I did not even bother going back to the village. I knew my words would be no good there. To my friends and family, I was already dead. All going back would do would let me see their disappointment and at that moment, having lost everything, that was the only thing that could make me feel worse. Even death would be better.”
“From there my story is pretty predictable. I lived by myself for a time, scavenging off the land. I knew it would be difficult to survive alone in the Othal Confederation come winter so over those months I gradually made my way south until I was in Xebrya. I killed a big guy, took his clothes and sword, and from there began my life as a human mercenary.”
Her story finished, Titania went silent as if that story made everything clear, but it just left me confused.
“I don’t understand, I thought you were going to explain why you are a useless failure that doesn’t belong here, but from everything you said I don’t see how you are a failure. If anything, the only thing that separates you from Wy-1 and Wy-2 is that your clan betrayed you and supported them,” said Rose.
“Do not say that. The chief was acting for the good of the clan,” Titania quickly retorted as if by reflex. It took a few seconds but eventually Titania calmed down and gritted her teeth as though being forced to explain something obvious to a small child.
“Yes, I faced an unexpected challenge that day, but we are all faced by such things. The worthy rise above and succeed anyway,” said Titania.
“But there was no way you could have...” Rose began before Titania cut her off.
“I knew ahead of time that wyverns were in short supply, I could have realized and not pursued them in the first place. When I started the climb and saw how dangerous it was, when I fell, I knew I was not as good as many of the others, I could have turned back. When I reached the top and saw strangely no one was there, I could have done something. When I was inside the den and spotted the assassin, I could have chosen to fight. If I beat him, which might have been possible in a sneak attack, then I would have been free to continue with my original plan. Instead, I chose to run. The only reason I did not die was luck and mercy.”
“So you see I deserve everything I’ve received. I deserve all the rejection and revulsion they sling at me. In many ways I might very well be a complete and utter failure.”
Rose and I both understood how Titania took all the abuse she received from the beastmen. For some people failure is like a skinned knee, mildly annoying but easily ignored in the short term and completely forgotten in the long term. For others failure is like an amputated limb, they go around the rest of their days crippled, always hanging onto what they have lost and never realizing everything they still could do. Titania was in that second group. She was so caught up in what she had lost that day ten years before she had forgotten all she still had and all that she had gained in the years since, none of which would have otherwise been possible.
Rose and I looked to each other, each silently asking the same question, ‘How can we fix this?’ Neither of us had a clue. I turned to Mai who was quietly sitting to the side.
‘Don’t look at me with those puppy dog eyes,’ she said. I didn’t look away. I knew something had to be done. The only thing worse than a team divided was a team with an open wound in it. I knew Mai had to have something. Eventually she gave in.
‘Oh fine, I’ll help, but don’t blame me if this doesn’t work,’ said Mai. ‘Repeat this verbatim.’ I turned to Titania and made sure she was paying attention.
‘What you just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response, were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. I know from your story you understand that the scariest thing is to not know your place in this world. To not know why you’re here... That’s... That’s just an awful feeling.’
‘But, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that you failed a twisted game that was rigged against you. It’s not your fault you see yourself as a failure because of one event. All that is because of where you grew up and their extreme views.’
‘Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. The simple truth is, not all of us become the men we once hoped we might be. The past can hurt. You
can either run from it or learn from it.’
‘So far you’ve been running from it. But if you’re ever going to learn from it, you have to face it. I think that’s why you’ve been so on edge recently. You are finally being confronted by what you’ve been running from. If you want to keep running, then go ahead, leave the group and go back to Xebrya. But, if you want to learn and grow, stay and fight. A warrior is not about perfection, or victory, or invulnerability. He’s about absolute vulnerability. That’s the only true courage. So be brave, be bold and see this thing through, for should we win the day, this event won’t be celebrated by a single clan, nor the entire Confederation, but will be celebrated by the world as the day when we declared in one voice, ‘We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on, we’re going to survive.’ All of us, human and beastman, will say these things because if our mission is successful we will no longer need to be at war. Now, go fuck yourselves, San Diego.’
I repeated everything Mai said as she said it. Well, everything except the last part, I’m not Ron Burgundy. I knew of course that the majority of Mai’s pep talk was ripped from a hodgepodge of inspirational movie speeches, but I was the only one who knew that. To Rose and Titania the words were fresh and untarnished by repetition.
I could tell Titania took the words to heart. As I spoke her diminutive, slumping posture straightened up and her piteous downward gaze turned towards me. I saw the faded spark in her eyes liven.
Sometimes we all get caught in our own way of thinking, our own circular logic. Get sent in a dark spiral of our own making, that by the perfect matching of creator and prison renders us impossible to escape on our own. It takes an external kick, either from an individual or from a fortuitous chance of nature, to free us from that prison and once free we look back and question whether the bars that held us ever really existed.
“So… what are you thinking?” I asked Titania.
“Hmm… I think you may have a point. May. I will keep going. If I fail again, I will just be confirming what I already think of myself, but if I do well… It is not like things can get much worse,” said Titania.
I left things there. Only when Titania’s failure was countered by success would she completely get over it. Until then, the problem was stabilized and I was satisfied.
Ch. 20: Ice Lands
†Elfwood Bow†
Damage: 30-37
Durability: 200/200
Requirements: Can only be used by Bolevard
Additional Attributes: Can be used to fire special Elfwood arrows
Description: A bow sung into shape by high elf magic from the finest maple. The string is made from magically solidified sap from the same tree to ensure a smooth, springy release. Can detect the aura of the holder to ensure it is wielded by the appropriate person. This bow was meant for one person and one person alone.
†Elfwood Snare Arrow†
Damage: 10-15
Durability: 50/50
Requirements: Can only be fired from certain Elven bows
Additional Attributes: Vines grow after it hits its target
Description: One of numerous special magical arrows developed by the high elves. This particular type grows vines that will attempt to ensnare whatever it strikes.
†Elfwood Signal Arrow†
Damage: 0-1
Durability: 20/20
Requirements: Can only be fired from certain Elven bows
Additional Attributes: Releases a sun-like flash of light 4 seconds after release
Description: One of numerous special magical arrows developed by the high elves. This particular type releases a bright flash of light. Is timed to go off after the arrow’s release so the flash can go off midair and signal distant allies.
Sylph made the bow and arrows for Bolevard several weeks ago, shortly after they escaped, but Bolevard still couldn’t help but admire the sheer beauty of the thing. Like most bows, it was made from a single piece of wood, but rather than being carved and cut into the right shape, Bolevard had watched Sylph sing and with only her glorious voice, coax a small bow shaped tree into growing right from the ground. Even now, one end of the bow still had roots sticking out while the other end had a couple tiny branches and leaves. Neither got in the way of the function of the bow, they simply enhanced the natural aesthetic.
As for the arrows, in addition to a score of ordinary arrows, Sylph had provided a few special arrows of each type in case of emergency. The snare arrows could slow down or trap any powerful creatures, allowing Bolevard to get away and with the signal arrows, Bolevard could call Sylph for help in a worst-case scenario.
So far, Bolevard hadn’t needed to use any of the special arrows. Having been imprisoned since shortly after arriving on this world, neither Bolevard nor Sylph had known exactly what to expect in the forest when they’d gone into hiding. They’d feared it filled with horrifically powerful beasts so when Bolevard went out to hunt, Sylph had provided him with the special arrows.
Of course, it hadn’t turned out that way. Contrary to their fears, the creatures of this world were pathetic. Bolevard had seen a number of prey species similar to his world: deer, rabbits, squirrels, and the like, but there were seemingly few major predators. Bolevard had come across coyotes, foxes, and even a bear, but there were no wolves, no wyverns, and, for better and worse, no beasts with elemental or magical affinities. Better because it meant Bolevard had been completely safe on his excursions and worse because there were few things that could appreciably increase his experience points.
If the escape from prison proved anything, it was that Bolevard needed to get stronger not only to protect himself when the men in black suits finally caught up, but also to protect Sylph. At the moment, she was so powerful that he wouldn’t even be useful if they got caught up in something. Bolevard desperately wanted to change that.
‘I finally found something decent. After this, I’ll call it a day,’ Bolevard thought as he nocked an ordinary arrow. 150 feet away stood a deer. The deer looked around briefly, checking to make sure the coast was clear. The deer couldn’t smell Bolevard because he was downwind and couldn’t see him because there were several layers of brush between them and Bolevard had covered himself with mud and leaves to blend in better.
Bolevard took aim as the deer bent low to nibble something on the ground and released the moment the deer lifted. The arrow and deer both moved and both reached the same goal. The same instant the deer returned to its original position, the arrow struck its temple. The deer dropped like someone flipped a switch.
You gained 12 EXP
“Only 12,” Bolevard sighed, none of these creatures gave enough experience. It’d be a long time before he could level up again.
Bolevard walked up to the deer and started to clean up. ‘At least I found dinner,’ Bolevard consoled himself as he took out a knife and used it to slice of one of the deer’s legs and throw it into his inventory. Bolevard’s inventory space was limited so he couldn’t fit the whole deer and had to settle for a few of the choicest pieces. Like the bow, the knife had been sung out of wood and, contrary to what you’d think, was surprisingly dense and sharp, as good as any iron blade.
Bolevard moved onto the second leg, sliced it off. He was just about to throw it into his inventory as well when he was interrupted.
Bolevard felt it even before he heard the loud echoing boom. Although oddly enough, it wasn’t the sharp sting of the bullet piercing his shoulder that Bolevard first felt but the weight of its impact knocking him off his feet.
Bolevard’s heart pounded instantly doubling the blood surging through his veins, delivering a hefty dose of adrenaline, allowing him to ignore everything else as he scanned the area. Bolevard spotted a flash of neon orange between the foliage, the color so alien to the forest that Bolevard knew that it must be what attacked him. A second later, he’d drawn and released. Bolevard heard a thud and a retching sound. He’d hit his target.
You
gained 117 EXP
Having seen the message, Bolevard knew he got lucky. A single arrow had taken out his target, but still Bolevard didn’t let his guard down. There could be more of them in the area. Bolevard remembered Mr. Black, Mr. Blond, and the warriors of the prison. They never moved alone. He couldn’t risk leading someone back to Sylph. He had to check.
Bolevard waded through the bushes and found what he hit. It was not what he expected. It was a bearded man, hair greyed by advancing years. That alone was enough for Bolevard to doubt the man’s connection to the prison, but there were other signs. The man wore a bright orange vest and neither it nor the clothing underneath matched the uniforms of the prison guards. His weapon was a blend of wood and metal, giving it a rustic quality whereas the guards’ weapons had been solid steel.
Bolevard carefully screened his surroundings. He saw nothing. The man he killed must have been alone.
‘It isn’t them,’ Bolevard concluded. He relaxed and as he did, the sharp stab of the bullet in his shoulder finally took shape. The wound was bad but not life threatening, Bolevard would have to ask Sylph to heal it when he got back. She would not be happy with him.
‘Even a man is only worth a hundred experience. It looks like I’ll have to become some insane blood thirsty slaughterer if I want to get strong,’ Bolevard noted.
Bolevard eyed the man he killed. He figured the man was a hunter, probably after the deer Bolevard had shot. He looked over the hunter’s body. At least something should come of all this trouble. The arrow had struck the hunter in the throat so the clothing was ruined by blood. Nevertheless, the hunter had a pack and a strange weapon.
The Ice Lands Page 28
