by J. T. Wright
He picked a direction at random and set off. Any direction would do. He had plans for this swamp, and he was in no hurry to leave. He couldn’t return to Clan Embra the way he was. He needed Levels; he had to become more impressive! His mother might be first among the Clan Elders, but none of the elites would pay his words any mind if he didn’t have the strength to back them up.
He hadn’t gone more than ten feet before the sound of buzzing filled the air behind him. It seemed his plans were coming to him. He turned and drew his sword. The footing here was uncertain. Roots, mud, and quicksand surrounded him. It was hardly the ideal place to make a stand.
The buzzing sound that was rapidly approaching and getting louder indicated that he didn’t have a choice. He had heard it before and knew what it signified. Fire Bees, and a lot of them! He would need to be fast when the threat arrived. He needed…
He had never wanted to become a Spirit Summoner. He was a warrior, not a Mage. He was entirely unsuited for the roles of advisor and guide that Spirit Summoners filled in Al’rashian society. He cursed himself for not considering that the supporting Skills of a Spirit Summoner were exactly what he needed now.
Spirit Summoners did not cast Spells directly. The Class allowed the holder to communicate and form bonds with Elementals, and through that bond, they could direct the Spirits. An additional benefit of that bond was the ability to learn Spells and Skills from his Elementals, if they were developed enough, and if the Summoner had the proper supporting Class. Orion had picked up the Mage Class in preparation for the day Spirit Summoner was unsealed.
That did him little good now. His Elementals were undeveloped and weak; it would take time for him to build them up before they were strong enough to share their secrets with him. All he had now was a Spirit Orb to house them in. Fortunately, that Orb was filled with thousands of Elementals, all willing to work with him.
A single Minor Elemental couldn’t do much on its own, but working together, they were a force that could confront even an Advanced creature like a Hill Troll. He called them now, and the Ice Elementals responded. Hundreds swirled out of the Orb located at the center of his staff. They came happily and quickly. He couldn’t ask much of these simple creatures, but there was plenty they could do that didn’t require much direction.
Together the Elementals’ powers would be enhanced. Hundreds of Minor Spirits were more than a match for a single creature far stronger than themselves. In the face of an insect swarm, that power was reduced. The Fire Bees that were approaching were much weaker than a Hill Troll, but there were many of them. They had the same advantage that the Elementals did. One on one or even two on one, the Fire Bees were superior.
Orion breathed out and reset his feet. He did not send his Elementals to confront the insects. Instead, the small blue creatures darted downwards. The ground hardened beneath Orion as water and earth froze under the Spirits’ influence. He had stable footing! Two Ice Elementals attached themselves to his boots, connecting him to the icy terrain. He had no fear of slipping! The air temperature in the area dropped. Orion readied himself.
The swarm of insects that came drifting through the trees was a common hazard in the swamp, one Orion would have had to flee from not long ago. Fire Bees were the size of small dogs, and they traveled in groups of a hundred or more. Fast and aggressive, they weren’t particularly dangerous alone. However, they were never alone.
Orion didn’t have time to count the number of Fire Bees coming towards him. The red and black insects had long spotted him, and according to their nature, they rushed to attack. Their antenna twitched, and their torsos twisted, bringing their stingers into attack position. The sound of buzzing grew fiercer as they forced their wings to propel them faster towards their prey.
Curiously, just as they were about to reach their target, the Fire Bees found their speed decreasing. Their movements grew sluggish in the cold air that the Ice Elementals produced. Fire Bees, as their name implied, were creatures that did not thrive in the cold. Normally, that wasn’t a problem in this hot and humid swamp.
Orion was expressionless as he moved forward. His feet never left the surface of the ice. He glided and twisted, his staff striking insects from the air, his sword piercing the fallen and cutting others in two. Soon a smile found its way to his lips. There had been a time when he could have accomplished this feat without the aid of Elementals. No Fire Bee would have been able to keep up with him at his peak. The help those Elementals provided now was letting him relive past glories, and he reveled in it.
Orion’s attention was entirely on his feet. His hands were working independently, moving through forms he had long mastered as they slaughtered the hapless Bees. His feet, though, were caught up in a dance he had never practiced. Gliding and flowing in a way that would have been impossible in other circumstances, Orion’s speed constantly increased. If his focus wavered, his own momentum would impale him on hovering stingers.
He swerved to the side, cutting one Bee in half as he slid past another. That had been a little too close. Those stingers were poisonous, capable of paralyzing those they struck. They also carried a bit of flame, which would torture and burn their victims. He needed to be more careful.
He also needed to remember that the Elementals had frozen only a small section of the swamp, and he was approaching its edge. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he left the circular domain he had been dominating, but face-planting was an obvious possibility. It was then that Orion realized he had no idea how to stop, and his speed had increased so much that turning wasn’t an option.
His distress communicated itself to his icy friends. The Elementals weren’t much more intelligent than the insects he faced, perhaps less so, but they had a solution. A curved wall two feet high grew in front of him. Orion shifted his weight and managed to catch himself before he flew off the edge of this obstruction. He sighed with relief as he came to a tottering halt.
That relief lasted approximately two seconds before he drifted back down the barrier. When his speed quickly surpassed his earlier record, a scream, that was part exhilaration and part horror, burst out of him. Forms and graceful swordplay were forgotten as he rocketed back through the swarm of insects. His blade cut down a handful of the giant Bees. His efforts had thinned their numbers significantly, which was good. Orion was no longer in control of his own destiny.
All too soon, he was at the opposite edge of the ice. A second wall formed, taller and more curved them the last. There was no brief pause this time. Orion was shot back across the artificially frozen expanse. His legs plowed through the corpses of Fire Bees as Orion whirled wildly, trying to find some way to bring his body back under his own control.
His feet and calves were now completely covered by ice. The cold crept into his muscles. He wondered if his Elementals had lost their tiny minds. Were they attacking him now? It was after the stinger of a dead Bee knocked against his shin and bounced back off that he realized the ice was for protection. He was grateful, but he also hoped the chilling armor didn’t creep any higher than his knees.
Orion careened about, only occasionally swatting at the remaining Bees. The Fire Bees hovered sluggishly in the air and accepted his blows without complaint. Their stingers were no longer in position to stab him. This was a relief because he was no longer in any position to avoid them.
Slamming into the Bees reduced his speed somewhat. Just not enough. The whole icy arena was now surrounded by a curved wall of frozen water, and any momentum he lost was soon regained.
The insects were almost comatose due to the cold, but Orion was not in much better shape. The warmth caused by his exertions was being stolen by the cold that wrapped around his lower half. He struggled not to withdraw his Elementals. If they left, he would soon be splattered on the ground. He had to find a way to stop himself, or at least, to slow down.
The last of the Fire Bees fell beneath a crushing blow from his staff that was entirely accidental. Orion wasn’t even aware of his opponents a
ny longer. The swinging of his arms was not intended to deliver attacks, but purely an attempt to stop himself.
With the last opponent finished, the Ice Elementals were ready to be praised by their Summoner. They didn’t understand why Orion continued to spin and holler. They were bewildered when Orion tossed his staff aside and took a two-handed grip on his sword.
Giving out a yell, Orion plunged his sword into the ice. His back cracked as his arms held him in place while his feet continued their wild ride. He found himself awkwardly bent at the waist, torso and arms fully extended. His desperate grip on his sword and the helpful Elementals on his feet were all that kept him standing. He wasn’t sure what kept him from being ripped in half by his sudden stop. He wasn’t sure he hadn’t been.
He was numb from the waist down. From the waist up, all he felt was pained bruises and wrenched muscles. With a groan, he recalled the Ice Elementals. He told himself this wasn’t their fault. They had only done what he asked. It took casting several Healing Spells on himself, all while remaining bent over, before he managed to believe it.
He would need to be more careful, thoughtful, in the future. He re-summoned an Icy Elemental, and at his request, it formed a frozen cup and brought him water. After purifying it with magic, Orion took a long drink of the sweet cold liquid. The act helped convince him that the Elementals meant well.
There were some things he had to do himself, even with an army of Spirits at his beck and call. The Bees needed to be Harvested. There was plenty on the insects that could be eaten, solving his food problems. There were also several parts of a Fire Bee, the stinger, for example, that could be sold to crafters and Alchemists.
Orion would take his time. There were many Bees to Harvest. Perhaps this simple task would clear his mind and allow him to come up with more effective, less painful uses for Elementals.
The hunting cough of a large Beast sounded in the distance, prompting Orion to forget about leisurely going about his work. Time was limited and his enemies were not. There would be more improvisation in his future. Whether he liked it or not.
Chapter 4
Night had fallen on the grasslands. Normally Horned Hares were not nocturnal creatures. By all rights, the Hare who had fled the hilltop earlier should have remained in its warren until morning. Safe amongst others of its kind, there was no reason for the Level 10 Beast to venture out into the dark.
But the Hare was unable to help itself. Even underground it couldn’t relax. It had to know if the group of blood-scented Warriors was planning to stay. It needed to know if its domain would continue to suffer from invasion, or if it could once again claim lordship over the area around the Burning Lake.
The Hare sat back on its hind legs. Stretching out its neck, its nose quivered and tested the air. This hilltop was empty. The smell of humans lingered, but it was an old scent. Cullen had set his trainees to running hours ago, and they were long gone.
To reassert its authority, the Hare hopped and rolled through the tall grass, marking its territory. The king had returned, and none would drive him away again! Not that he had run before. No, it had been mercy that prompted this tyrant’s withdrawal. Mercy kept the Hare from claiming the lives of the invaders.
To prove its superiority to itself, the Hare trampled the grass into a bed. It planned to spend the night in the open. It would enjoy the cool breeze and the company of distant stars. It had no need to cower in its warren like the common rabble.
The Hare curled up on the sweet-smelling grass and closed its eyes. Sleep would come soon. Its body relaxed, and long ears folded down to cover its face. This was how a king should live!
The Hare whimpered as a figure settled down next to it. A hand caressed its ears, nimble fingers scratching at places the Hare could not reach by itself. Itches it often had to ignore were soothed, but the Hare was not comforted.
It was not a tamed animal for children to pet and fondle. It was a Beast! A feared and mighty threat destined for greatness. All races of the World knew the power of Beasts and cowered before them. When had any of its kind ever suffered the indignity of being casually handled!?
Despite its might, the Hare froze and did not move. If Sergeant Cullen was intimidating, the man that now gently patted its head was a terror. There was no running or fighting the overlord in man’s shape that ruffled its fur. The king could do nothing but submit.
The Hare was still several Levels away from developing true intelligence. That was the way of Beasts. First, they built up their Strength. They did not choose Skills like the Awakened races, Skills and Abilities just came to them. As they reached higher Levels, they would eventually learn how to manipulate their own Status. Some even learned to speak as the Awakened did. The day when this King of Horned Hares would be able to do these things was far away.
But even simple Beasts had a form of wisdom. They could recognize when they were overmatched. If they could run, then they would. If they couldn’t, and they were cornered, they would fight and never count the odds. Without a method of communication, they knew no other way.
It was unheard of for an Awakened to casually sit down beside and pet a Beast. Even Beast Tamers would be careful approaching an unknown creature. Even if the Hare had possessed a way to relate its current predicament to other Beasts of the World, it would never be believed.
Where had this man even come from? It was the suddenness of the interloper’s appearance that caused the Hare to suppress its natural impulses. His sudden appearance, combined with his domineering aura, caused the Beast’s body to lock up. Its muscles refused to answer commands.
Ranar Wygon gave the Hare one last pat and stood up. Freed from the grasp that had never restricted it, the Horned Hare’s legs finally responded to its desires. The Beast fled. It would be days before it ventured out of its warren once again.
Ranar watched it go. He was not a needlessly cruel man. It was his good mood that had prompted the ancient Al’rashian Warrior to sit beside the Beast. He had merely thought to share the pleasant night and pass on the goodwill that filled him. It hadn’t been his intention to spook the lesser creature.
It had been a long time, centuries, since Ranar had last interacted with either Awakened or Beast, other than his Bond, Arakai. Once, it would have been second nature for him to contain the power that radiated from him. At his Level, if he failed to do this, less developed denizens of the world couldn’t help but be affected. Now, with his power completely unrestrained, there were probably Beasts miles away whose only thought was to flee.
With a rueful shake of his head, Ranar dampened his presence. He laughed at his own forgetfulness. The laughter surprised him into laughing again. How long had it been since he felt this carefree? Not since the fall of Al’rashia had Ranar felt so alive, so mirthful.
A Survivalist with violet eyes roamed the Infinite World! Was it any wonder that Ranar was giddy? Time passed differently for those who had reached the pinnacle of the World, but Ranar had counted the seconds since his people had been scattered. He had been too long without hope.
Ranar had met with his King, a King he believed was lost. From Darak, Ranar had learned of the existence of Trent and Orion. It took an effort by the Master of the Dusk Tower to keep his feet earthbound. He felt like leaping and spinning like a child freed from a hated chore. He had seen many nights over the centuries, but there had never been one as sweet as the one he was experiencing now.
With another chuckle, Ranar closed his eyes and spread out his awareness. There was a Trial of Perseverance nearby, but there were no challengers lined up to enter the Burning Lake. This was standard for Perseverance-type Trials. Adventurers, who did not fear facing death in the Trials, still shied away from the pain that was a certainty in such places.
Ranar wondered if the child he was looking for had challenged the Lake. A person bearing the heritage of the violet-eyed Al’rashians would enter such a Trial eagerly. There was a craving, a need for strength, instilled in the violet-eyed. New strength was
guaranteed to all who cleared a Trial of Perseverance. He would bet everything he owned that the boy had.
Ranar pushed his awareness to the extreme. What he found caused his eyebrows to rise with amazement. He could sense Al’rashian blood. This isolated Kingdom, far from fallen Al'rashia, contained many who were descended from the People. He hadn’t expected that.
The blood he sensed was weak. It had been diluted by generations of mixing with other Races, but the bloodlines were there. Ranar was delighted. The Al’rashians had always welcomed those with mixed blood. New blood brought new strength, diversity.
Had Darak known that so many people of the blood were present here when he sent Ranar looking for Trent? The kingdom was named Al’verren, and the nobleman Darak had mentioned also had an Al prefix to his name. Ranar hadn’t truly considered the implications of that. There was history here that needed to be explored. Later.
Now, he needed to find the Survivalist. He needed to find Trent Embra and provide the boy with the training his Class required. Ranar knew it would be difficult. Darak had ordered the Master of the Dusk Tower to guide without interfering. Not an easy task, but Ranar relished the opportunity.
Concentrating, Ranar finally found what he was looking for to the northwest. He hadn’t expected that. The city of Al’drossford lay to the south. Darak had been sure the boy and his friends would return to that city, but there was no mistaking the pure bloodline to the north. Curiously, the boy was moving away from Al’drossford and doing so quickly. He was running, running at night, hours after leaving a Trial. That… that was unusual. Most rested after an experience like a Trial. Was the boy in danger?
Ranar touched the hilt of the sword at his waist. He wouldn’t interfere. Survivalists had to face things on their own if they wanted to mature. But Ranar would involve himself, if the boy’s life was threatened. The Survivalist must survive.
