by Dante King
First, she took from her belt a little thing that looked like a hard, dried nut. When she spoke some quiet words over it, it shimmered and expanded to become a gleaming mortar and pestle. It was small, but it took hold much more than it should.
She added some fresh herbs, some dry powders from a flask at her belt, and then unstoppered a potion bottle from her belt and poured the contents in. Pale yellow light shone up from the bowl and lit her beautiful, intent face. Her full lips moved silently as she worked.
“The bowl is magical,” she explained. “I add the ingredients to it, plus some of the potion I want to replicate. So long as I get the combinations of ingredients right, the contents of the bowl should combine into a larger amount of the potion I’m trying to create.” As she spoke, she took three empty bottles from her pouch and carefully decanted the yellow liquid into them. There was a little left in the bottom of the bowl.
“Incredible,” I said as I watched her craft the potion. “Will it take long to finish? I fear for what might have happened to the worshipper.”
“Not long, no,” Cara replied. “Besides, we must be prepared for whatever evil lies in wait in the temple.” She drew a blue flower from her bundle of gathered herbs. “Let me try something with what’s left. If this plant is what it looks like, it should create...”
I leaned in closer, intrigued despite my desire to make for the temple.
There was a flash of blue light from the bowl, and she smiled grimly. “That worked. It’s a potion to turn an enemy’s own power against it. The flower that’s the critical ingredient is incredibly rare in Saxe, but here in Yamato, it seems to be everywhere.”
She decanted this last potion into an empty vial and stowed it in her belt. Then, with a wave of her hand, she transformed her mortar and pestle again. Where the shining bowl had been, there was now nothing but a little dried brown pellet like a nut. With a glance at me and a smile, she slipped it into her pouch. The rest of her bundled herbs she stowed in her pack.
Then she drank half of a potion bottle she had just filled. “It makes me immune to the sickening, terrifying effect of the Festering,” she explained as the pale glow of the potion’s effect suffused her and then faded. She looked at me consideringly. “You’re already immune to the Festering’s influence. What would happen if you took some of this potion?”
“I don’t know, but I suspect it might interfere with my ability to sense the Festering from a distance. That wouldn’t be wise.”
Cara put the half-finished bottle back in her belt. “That makes sense.”
I turned and walked along the edge of the cliff. Not far away, I could see the beginning of a path winding down to the flat land. “Let’s get down there. I don’t like the idea that the Festering can hide itself from my special senses here. It’s clear that we’ve arrived in Yamato not a moment too soon.”
We made our way quickly and carefully through the edge of the woodland and onto the path. I considered switching back to my full armor build but decided against it. I would look less intimidating to any civilians who we met, and perhaps less of a threat to any enemies. Long ago I’d learned that if you have an advantage in a fight, it was often better to conceal it until the very last moment.
The path was made of yellow gravel, well-used and well-maintained. It wound up steeply from the flat lands beside the temple. By each side, the bushes and vegetation had been clipped back, creating a tidy effect.
Cara gestured to the neat edges. “I wonder who does this?”
“These lands are cultivated by their people,” I said. “I’ve not even met any of the inhabitants yet, but already I’m starting to feel as if I like the people of Yamato.”
“All the more reason to deal with the Festering.”
We reached the flat grassy tableland at the base of the cliff without incident, but I felt tense and wary, and I could tell Cara felt the same.
Not being able to sense the source of the Festering put me on edge. Since childhood, I’d always been able to feel the Festering at the edges of my consciousness... I reined in my thoughts, away from that memory. I’d have to tell Cara about it at some point. For now, I had to keep my thoughts on the task at hand.
The shrine lay in a little clearing at the base of the cliff we had just descended. Flowering shrubs had been clipped into the elegant shapes of sitting foxes on either side of the path leading up to the shrine. Short rods of wood with woven red ropes joining them made a decorative fence bordering the approach. The grass had been fastidiously cut, creating a neat lawn all around the shrine.
“Foxes seem to be important to this shrine,” I said to Cara in a low voice, pointing out the fox motif included in the detail of the building and the approach.
The top of each wooden fence rod was carved with a fox’s head, and the same figure—a leaping fox—was carved into each corner of the shrine. The shrine was a roughly square building with walls made from vertical wooden planks. The whole building was raised up three feet off the ground on solid wooden stilts, leaving a dark gap underneath. These stilts, too, were carved to resemble sitting foxes.
We were approaching the shrine from behind. There was no sign of anyone nearby, but still I decided to hold off from wearing my full plate armor. If nothing else, these leather boots I was wearing were much quieter on the gravel road. Right now, I valued being able to move quietly. I could feel the full war-suit of Ironside hovering at the edge of my awareness, however, ready to envelope me at the speed of thought if I turned my attention to it.
Cara rested her hands on the scabbards of her long knives, ready to draw. We glanced at each other, nodded our readiness, then stepped around the corner.
The inside of the shrine was dim compared to the bright late morning sun that bathed the rest of the scene. We peered in together, not wanting to get too close. At first, I couldn’t see anything through the dimness, but as my eyes quickly adjusted, I became aware of figures in the dimness.
“Can you see anything?” whispered Cara, shielding her eyes.
“There are two... no, three people in there. They’re standing side by side, perfectly still, lined up against the back wall.”
I took a few steps closer, and Cara drew an arrow and fitted it to her light recurve bow. It felt good to know she had my back.
The overhanging roof of the shrine cast a cool shadow on the area of gravel directly in front of the entrance. As soon as I came under that shadow, I found that my vision of what was inside the shrine became clearer.
It was not a pleasant sight.
The three figures—a woman and two men—were suspended in the air with their backs to the rear wall. Their feet dangled above the ground, and their hands and arms hung limp at their sides. Around each one, black tentacles of Festering mist were weaving and playing, seeming to dip in and out of their chests, caressing their faces, and wrapping around their ankles, necks, and wrists. One of the figures was the yellow-robed man whom we’d seen being pulled into the shrine. He looked about fifty, with some gray hairs shot through his sleek black topknot and small pointed beard. The other two were older people with wrinkled, sun-darkened faces, and humbler clothing.
As we watched, the tentacles of the Festering thickened and darkened around the figures, taking their time as they explored their victims. For just a moment, a sudden awareness of the Festering flooded me, as if whatever effort it was making to shield itself from my senses had lapsed for a moment. The wave of dark energy caught me off-guard, flooding my senses, and in a horrible moment of awareness I realized what I was looking at.
“It’s feeding on them,” I breathed, and heard Cara’s sharp intake of breath beside me.
Suddenly, there was a crunching footstep on the gravel behind us. We both whirled, and Cara swung her bow up, but it was just a little old man, dressed in what looked like some kind of ceremonial robe. His robes had been a pure white, and must have been arranged in clean, sharp lines around his body, but now they were muddy and torn, and his face was bruised. As
Cara raised her bow, with an arrow fitted, the little man held up both hands in a gesture of supplication. He was trembling.
I reached out and placed a hand on Cara’s arm, and she reluctantly lowered the bow.
“He has no signs of the influence of the Festering,” I said quietly to her. “I don’t think he’s a threat.”
“Please,” gasped the old man. “Please. You have to help me. In... in there...” he pointed one trembling finger toward the doorway of the temple.
“Yes, we’re here to help,” I said to him, and his face brightened with relief.
“Who are you?” asked Cara.
“I’m the priest of this Fox shrine,” he stammered. “The shrine is dedicated to the Kitsune, the fox-spirit of this land. I have been the priest here for ten years, and nothing like this has ever happened. Oh, please...”
“How long has this been happening?” Cara cut in over him.
“Oh, three days, maybe?” he said. “Three days ago I went to pay my morning respects to the Kitsune. Most of the time, the spirit does not appear, but I make my obeisance and light the incense anyway, and I leave out an offering of rice and milk. Sometimes, the Kitsune appears while I’m there, and I thought I’d been blessed with his presence three days ago. But it was... wrong. The Kitsune is white, fox-headed but with a body like a wreath of mist. This was not white. It was gray, and it had eyes that glowed. I fled. Then when Mr and Mrs Sato came from town yesterday, it... it took them. I tried to fight it, but it flung me back out of the shrine. Since then the fear that comes from the building has built, and I can barely approach it for the terror of the thing that’s taken over the shrine. An hour ago, I was in my house when I saw the man in yellow approaching. I tried to call out and warn him but I was too late.” He gestured toward the humble, grass-roofed building which we had observed earlier.
“Could you not go to the town for help?” asked Cara. The old man blinked twice, and looked at us as if we had both just sprouted extra heads.
“Uh, no,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m the priest of the shrine.” He looked insulted, and clearly felt he had explained himself fully. His fear had receded at the prospect of having others who might help him, and he crossed his arms on his chest and squinted at us. It was only then that I realized his vision must be poor.
“Where are you from?” he asked hesitantly. “You don’t look like you’re from Yamato...”
“Never mind where we’re from,” I said to him, glancing at Cara with a smile. “We’ll help you get your shrine back. Come on, Cara, let's fight the Festering.”
“But it’ll kill you like it killed those others! I didn’t mean you should fight the Kitsune! You should go to Otara and bring the guard! Don’t be craz...”
He choked on his words as I turned my intention to the Persona of Ironside. White-enamelled steel slammed into place around my chest and shoulders, and my one-handed axes appeared in my hands.
“Heaven help us!” cried the little man, stumbling backward.
“You don’t need heaven,” I said. “You have us.”
I felt my body lifted up and transformed by the power of the Persona. I was taller, broader, stronger, and every fibre of my being quivered with martial skill. The Helm of Ironside snapped into place around my head and around my face, leaving only my eyes uncovered. I hefted my axes, feeling like a giant of blade and steel.
“You should stay out of the way,” Cara advised the little guy. We turned and advanced toward the shrine.
Chapter Five
The thing inside the little building became aware of me as soon as I put my steel-booted foot on the bottom step. I felt it push against my senses with a sudden rush, and I felt the powerful impression of its questioning enquiry. “Food?” it seemed to ask, and then when it realized my intent, it lashed away from me like a struck snake.
Cara was behind me, her bow at the ready. She let me lead, and I was glad enough of that. She was well-armed and highly skilled, but I was clad in the power of the Persona of Ironside; there was no question that I would be the one to take point in a fight.
The Festering sent a wave of terror and horror blasting through the doorway. It had given up all attempt to shield itself, and I saw the blast as a dense brown substance that came rushing from the open entrance. Despite my resistance to the terror it could inflict, I felt that blast is a physical impact. It was as if a solid wall of water had crashed into me.
I turned my shoulder into it and heard myself grunt with effort as I felt it break over me. Cara cried out in surprise behind me at the impact. The old priest screamed. I lifted my foot and gained the second step.
Fury thrummed like discordant music from inside the corrupted shrine. I felt like I was pushing against a thick, springy wall as I took a third step, then a fourth. I was on the platform, just outside the door. Then the Festering changed its tactic. It ceased to resist my advance. A wall of black tentacles suddenly rushed from the doorway, wrapped me in a wet embrace and dragged me in.
I spun to the right, slashing outward with both hand-axes. The tentacles had tried to unbalance me, but my leap foiled that attempt. I kept my footing, swinging left and and right at the black tentacles that clutched at me. They had seemed solid enough when they were dragging me through the entrance, but as soon as my axe connected with them, they dispersed into thin mist again, only to reform as soon as my blade had passed through them.
Glancing around the small space, I saw a glimpse of pale gray at the far back wall of the shrine. Something was there, a low, dog-like form, wreathed in mist. It was the Kitsune, the fox-spirit of the shrine, bound and corrupted by the Festering.
It hid behind the legs of the three people who still hung suspended against the back wall. The tentacles emanated from the cloud that enveloped it. From the middle of the cloud, two livid red eyes were peering around the legs of the man in yellow. The tentacles retreated from me, and in the moment of silence there was a snarling noise.
I glanced at the doorway to see what had become of Cara. The black mist solidified in the entranceway, forming an effective block against anyone wishing to enter. The only light was the faint daylight leaking in through the gaps between the top of the walls and the sloping roof. It looked as if I would have to deal with the creature on my own.
“Come on then,” I taunted it, “come out and fight me. I’ll destroy you, come on.”
“This is mine,” hissed a voice in return. “This place is mine, Kitsune is mine, and these, these are mine.” The three suspended people suddenly flopped about, as if a great hand were shaking them at me. “All this is mine, and if you stay here you will be mine too.”
I took a step toward the mist-shrouded spirit, intending to push past the suspended humans, but the Kitsune flung them at me. With a horrible, jerking motion, the two men and the woman suddenly moved toward me. Their hands raised toward me, and their eyes stared blankly forward. They were like marionettes being controlled from inside by some malevolent force.
This was unexpected. In the small space, the three made an effective wall between me and the Kitsune. I backed away, reluctant to just chop my way through them; they still looked very much alive, and I was certain that if I could defeat the Festering-corrupted Kitsune, these innocent victims could be saved. Behind me, the black wall in the entranceway remained solidly in place. From its place beyond them, the hissing voice laughed cruelly.
The older man suddenly raced three shambling steps forward. His mouth was momentarily wreathed in black mist, then it opened impossibly wide. A mass of writhing black tentacles burst from his gaping mouth and rushed toward me.
The shield. With a twist of my will, I summoned the shield upgrade I had purchased after the fight back in Saxe. The axe in my left hand was instantly transformed into a round shield of dark iron. I had a moment to notice that the shield was not of the same metal as the rest of my armor before the tentacles splattered against it with a horrible wet sound. They smashed against it a
nd burst, sending wet gobbets of thick black liquid flying in every direction.
I felt a powerful sucking sensation against the shield, as if it were being pulled away from me, but I was stronger than that. With a wrench of brute strength, I got control of it again. I crouched, and with the shield held protectively over my head I barged past the prisoners. I knocked them out of the way, hopefully without damaging them too much.
Anger from the corrupted Kitsune washed over me again, but this time it was tinged with fear. All of a sudden, our positions had changed. It no longer had its human shields to hold between itself and me. Like the snapping of a tight cord, I almost felt it abandon its control over them as it drew all of its power back into itself.
I stole a rapid glance over my shoulder. The three civilians lay in a heap before the black wall which filled the doorway still. I snapped my head back around to face my enemy.
It still bore some resemblance to a fox, but everything about it was wrong. Instead of fur, it was covered in a bald, lumpy, pitted hide that shifted color between black, brown, and gray and wriggled as if it were infested with some kind of burrowing worm. Its legs were unnaturally bowed outward, and the feet had a mass of claws as big as my fingers. Its face was horrible, with a short, blunt snout and an oversized mouth full of a mass of blunt teeth. The eyes blazed wildly at me, but deep within them I caught a glimpse of something else; a tortured, helpless, noble soul. The soul of the Kitsune which had been bound by the evil.
The sight of that filled me with a sudden rage. As the creature reared up and prepared to charge me with tooth and claw, I barrelled into it at full force. It stood nearly as tall as my hip, and I slammed into it with my shield, sending it flying back against the wall. The whole shrine shook with the impact.
I leaped back, but instead of falling to the ground stunned, the creature grew larger. It sprang at me, claws extended and mouth wide, screeching like a woman. I bashed it with my shield, feeling the huge claws rake down the iron. It caught the edge of my shield in its mutated teeth, scrabbling for grip with its claws. Black tentacles exploded from its back, reaching around like great arms and engulfing my shield and my left arm.
