by Sever Bronny
Spotting a particularly large branch, he lashed out with his Telekinesis, grabbed it, and arced his fall like a stone on a pendulum. He slammed into the lighter brush first, which scratched at him like thousands of needle fingers, tearing his robe and face and hands. Yet he maintained his grip and the arc slowed slightly—until he slammed into another bough, buckling over it and instantly coming to a halt.
Winded, he began to slide off, for it was slimy with goop that was hard to grab. He let himself fall a little then caught the branch using Telekinesis, which was unaffected by the goop.
He hung much like a spider caught in its own web, trying to catch his breath, every part of him in pain. Blood and sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them and making it hard to see. He gauged that he was about twenty feet above ground. And although he did not hear that cursed buzzing, something was rustling below him, something large. The blurry shape wandered in a circle directly below, sniffing at the air. It was charcoal gray and looked vaguely human, though much bulkier, perhaps a cousin to a banyan beast.
And then another one emerged from the thick foliage, sniffing and grunting. The pair circled the spot. Augum felt blood dripping from him as he slowly revolved in midair, the telekinetic strain steadily mounting. Aware that it would be over if he ran out of stamina, he unsheathed Burden’s Edge and made an awful choice—he let go.
One of the beasts launched into the air at him like a dog playing fetch. “Summano arma!” Augum shouted, and his shortsword instantly extended into a longsword while exploding with lightning. The beast—which Augum would describe as a saber-toothed gorilla about ten feet tall—skewered itself on his blade as he fell.
Augum fell with it and the pair slammed into the dirt. The beast collapsed right onto the pommel of his blade, which embedded into its chest to the hilt. Augum rolled off with a grunt, only to feel a searing pain as the other gorilla-thing chomped onto his side, picking him up with its mouth. The pain was beyond excruciating, as if someone were whacking his innards into bits with a cleaver. Just as the beast was about to tear out his whole side—guts and all—Augum did the only thing he could think of—he slammed his wrists together and roared, “Annihilo bato!” Two massive bolts of lightning blasted into the beast’s face, obliterating it. Pieces of skull and brains and teeth slapped into Augum as the pair fell to the ground.
And then, stillness. Stillness and acidic, blinding pain.
Augum lay writhing and gasping, hearing a distant buzzing, unsure if it was the bloodsuckers or his own blood rushing between his ears. He knew what he had to do and managed to remove his rucksack and claw his way to the linen bandages and skin of water. He splashed the water on the horrific wound gaping through his tattered garments and, unable to help himself, cried out, “Aaargh!”
The jungle replied with a series of animalistic howls of varying pitches, from a hyena-like laugh to squawks of delight to a deep rumbling gurgle much like an empty stomach. Every hungry beast now knew that injured prey was nearby.
One of the trees ahead came alive—a palm with sawtooth leaves. Every limb moved like an arm, roving about as the thing lumbered in his direction. Multiple bark mouths opened in the trunk, revealing black teeth.
Augum drew the outline of a small dragon. “Summano elementus minimus draco.” His lightning dragon burst to life before him—but at half the size, like that of an average dog. He pointed at the approaching tree. “Draco, attack!” and it lunged. The dragon was as ferocious as ever, biting, clawing and whipping its tail at the thing, but it was simply not strong enough to do any serious damage—even its lightning shocks seemed to do nothing whatsoever. But it kept the cursed tree-thing occupied.
In the meantime Augum, trying to ignore his rising panic, telekinetically ripped his robe away from the wound and pressed the linen bandage against his flesh, alarmed by how quickly it bled through. He scrambled for a longer bandage and then tied it around his waist, trying not to vomit, for his insides felt like they were melting.
He heard the foliage rustle before he saw the movement, and then something leapt toward him. Augum reflexively lashed out with a hand and telekinetically launched a huge panther with two mouths over his head. But as soon as the panther landed on its four paws it used its huge tail to whip about in place and bolt back toward him. Augum frantically drew its figure, hissing, “Paralizo carcusa cemente!”
The panther skidded to a frozen halt a mere foot away from his face, its two mouths gaping in hungry readiness, four sets of finger-length fangs waiting amongst rows of sharp teeth. But the spell had been sloppy and the beast’s paws already began to slowly fight through it.
He spotted two more of the panthers prowling closer, readying to lunge.
“No, I’ve had enough!” Augum spat angrily, one hand pressed against his bloody side. He scrambled to his feet with a groan, pointed at Burden’s Edge with his other hand, and yanked it out of the gorilla-thing’s guts with a loud shloop! Then he tossed it before him and telekinetically spun it in midair like a twirling maple seed. He held it between himself and the stalking panthers, one of which tried to flank him. He thought to make an example of it and shot the whirling blade at the beast, eviscerating it.
The panther that he had paralyzed freed itself at last and lunged—but Augum used the spinning blade to eviscerate it as well. The third panther backed away and began trying to flank him in a wide circle, waiting for him to tire and turn his back.
Unconsciousness began to beat on his door and Burden’s Edge thunked to the ground. He swayed as black walls narrowed his vision and weakness ate at his precious arcane stamina. He had to teleport as soon as possible. But in order to do so, he would need to gather his things and buy himself a moment of concentration. He hurriedly summoned Burden’s Edge to his hand, wiped it on his rucksack, sheathed it, and wincingly slung his rucksack back over his shoulder—all while turning in place and glaring at the stalking panther. Around him, the jungle was alive with the noise of other approaching beasts—and he had zero chance of fighting them off in his state.
He straightened, focused on the exact spot he wanted to teleport to on the pillar—envisioning the branches, the dirt, the foliage, the position of his friends—and snapped off the spell he had spent countless hours training on. “Impetus peragro—” and yanked his body away just as some other beast with too many teeth lunged into his vision.
He appeared on the pillar exactly where he had wanted to—behind the others—and promptly collapsed.
“Don’t … go … that … way,” he wheezed as the others cried out and shot to his side. “Where’s Nana?”
“She went after you,” a frantic Leera replied. “Hold on, Jengo’s right here.”
A frowning Jengo placed a hand to Augum’s forehead. “Examino potente morbus aurus persona.” He paused to concentrate, then spoke hurriedly yet calmly. “Multiple minor lacerations and heavy internal bleeding that will require Exploratory Abscission and Remedy Complex Wound, followed by Remedy Infection Poison Venom. Hmm, going to need Mrs. Stone’s help. Hold tight, Aug, inducing a coma,” and he began casting a frightfully complicated incantation.
“Tell … her … to … get … back,” Augum managed to wheeze before the Induce Coma spell knocked him out.
Matte Black, Crimson
Augum regained consciousness to the sound of crying. “No, I’m so sorry, I know I can’t do this. I know I can’t. Look at what happened to him. Look! And that’s Augum. Augum. You think I stand a single chance with my pathetic 6th degree? With my combat inexperience? With my stupid leg?”
“Everybody understands, Haylee, don’t worry,” Bridget said in a soothing voice. “No one is forcing you to continue.”
Haylee sniffed. “He’s up.”
Augum raised his head and looked about but did not recognize the foliage. The others were staring at him with grave faces. Only Dragoon Myrymydion did not look, for he was watching the bush.
“Mrs. Stone ’ported us to a different pillar,” Leera said. She was sc
rubbing his hands with mud to mask the scent of blood. “She went to look for another way around. Oh, my love, you were in awful shape, truly awful.”
“But Jengo fixed you up good,” Olaf said, voice shaky, hands wringing. Perhaps he too was having second thoughts—heck, Augum certainly was.
“With Mrs. Stone’s help,” Jengo noted, holding his head and wincing. It seemed the casting had taken a toll. “Still amazes me that she knows so much about the healing arts.”
“That jungle ate me right up,” Augum croaked, feeling his side, relieved to find it whole. All that remained was a dull ache. “They smelled blood and just …” He shook his head. “… rushed right in. I was nothing more than a snack.”
“Mrs. Stone said you landed in a particularly bad pocket,” Bridget noted. “Said there was a highly prized sweet nectar pond nearby, causing the entire area to be a battleground. Simply bad luck.”
Augum glanced over at Haylee, who looked away and crossed her arms. “I … I can’t do this, Aug,” she blubbered, sniffing. “I know I don’t have it in me. I know I don’t. I’m … I’m sorry. I’m sorry to let everyone down.”
“Don’t blame you one bit,” he replied, then looked at each of them in turn. “I won’t blame any of you for backing off. It was a fight for pure survival down there and I barely made it out. If I had been carrying a dragon egg …” He shook his head in a Forget it manner.
“I’m not going to abandon you lot though,” Haylee said. “I’ll stick with it and support you with all I have. I just … I can’t be left alone in that jungle. I don’t want to see something—” She burst out crying again. “—eating my insides while I’m still alive.”
Bridget drew nearer to her but refrained from giving her a hug. “Hush, Haylee, hush. You’ll be fine. We’ll stick together.” Bridget leveled a serious gaze at Augum, however, telling him that despite what had happened she was intent on continuing.
He turned his head to his beloved and saw the same iron determination in her eyes. He opened his mouth to tell her to—
“Don’t even think about it,” she snapped, sliding a muddy finger across his cheek like a knife and forcing a smile. “I’m going to get that dragon egg even if I have to drown the entire jungle to do it.”
He swallowed and reluctantly nodded. He looked at Olaf and Jengo, but both of them refused to meet his gaze. He did not blame them in the slightest. And Bridget was looking at Olaf in the same way he had looked at Leera—with anxiety.
Mrs. Stone reappeared with a thwomp and Augum hauled himself to his feet, only noticing then that his robe had been repaired, the blood arcanely cleaned off.
Mrs. Stone looked Augum up and down. “Satisfactory, Jengo.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Stone,” Jengo mumbled. “And thanks for helping with the cleaning enchantment.”
“Mmm. Great-grandson?”
“I’m fine, Nana, thank—”
“I can’t do it, Mrs. Stone,” Haylee blurted, lower lip trembling. “I can’t do it. I’ll support everyone, but I can’t do the quest.”
Mrs. Stone looked deep into her eyes. “It takes courage to acknowledge one’s limits, child. Truth be told, even I had underestimated how ruthless the jungle could be.” She looked at each of them questioningly.
“I’ll see how things go,” Olaf said, unable to meet her gaze.
“Same here,” Jengo said in a weak voice.
“I am determined to continue, Mrs. Stone,” Bridget said.
“Same,” Augum and Leera chorused.
“Very well then. I have found an alternate route and, using the Slow Time spell, made rapid progress through the jungle. It seems the entire swath ahead was as dangerous as the portion Augum trespassed upon. Crossing it by traditional means would be impossible. We could survive for a while, but it would only be a matter of time until our stamina ran dry defending against the jungle. And that includes myself.”
This made the friends exchange anxious looks.
“Thus, we have a choice,” she went on. “I can teleport us to the other side of the swath, which butts up against the Leeranians, and we take our chances climbing the mountain range in search of better vantage, or we turn back now, regroup, and choose another direction in hopes of spotting dragons.”
“Forward,” Haylee said in a shaky voice when no one else responded. “We go forward and stick really close together.”
The others all nodded in agreement, muttering, “Forward.”
“Very well then. Should you get separated, it is important for you to know that you will have to teleport back to this side of the swath on your own—and you will have to be mindful of the distance involved.”
“Yes, Mrs. Stone,” they chorused.
“Then muddy yourselves up and let us move before we attract unwanted attention.”
* * *
When Mrs. Stone teleported them beyond the swath, Augum wondered why she hadn’t used the Slow Time spell to traverse through it on her own and teleport back to them from the other side. Then he remembered that the 20th degree spell sucked a lot of stamina—not to mention she wanted them to learn how to navigate the jungle’s horrors, for if they were to do their quest, that was exactly what they would be doing—except alone and carrying a dragon egg. But Augum tried not to think about that too much because, after his most recent harrowing ordeal, it sounded suicidal.
As they ascended the lightly forested base of the Leeranians, which mercifully held fewer insects and beasts, Augum stepped on a thorn and yelped. He slumped down and picked it out from his mangled foot. All their feet were sore, but he had it the worst as he was still bare of foot and had already cut them in the short time since Jengo’s healing.
“Dragoon Myrymydion,” Jengo began, “a healing spell followed by mud protection will not affect Augum’s pilgrimage, will it?”
“I do not believe so. The lack of shoes is symbolic.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jengo kneeled before Augum. “Let me heal those up a bit.”
“That would be most welcome,” Augum replied. “But no Anesthetize. Still need to have feeling there.”
“Remedy Elementary Wound it is.” Jengo spread his hands over Augum’s feet. “Remedia binda aregando min fin ateo,” and like a skilled weaver shepherded the repair of the wound. Then he spilled a bit of water from his waterskin onto the dirt, fashioned the slop into mud, and scrubbed Augum’s feet with it. “Consider the favor returned,” Jengo said when he finished, referring to when Augum had washed his feet.
“Nothing I will ever do can repay what we owe you, Jengo,” Augum countered, looking forward to being able to bestow Arcaner honors.
Jengo, scrubbing his hands with mud, refused to meet his gaze. “Only doing my duty, Augum.”
Augum stood, but just as he was about to turn around to keep going, he glimpsed a shadow flying in the low light near a distant pillar. The suns were setting, so at first he thought it was a large bird, but then he saw that the shadow’s wings were nearly as wide as one of the pillars—perhaps two barns wide, including wingspan.
“Dragon,” he blurted, pointing. The others turned and saw the shadow settle on top of the pillar.
Mrs. Stone withdrew her battered spyglass and pressed it to an eye. “It landed on Pillar Olaf. Probably readying for an evening hunt.”
“Where we just came from,” Haylee whispered, holding herself.
“What kind?” Olaf asked.
She put down the spyglass and placed a grave look upon Augum.
“My time has come then,” Augum said, gulping.
“It’s necromantic, isn’t it, Mrs. Stone?” Haylee asked.
She nodded almost imperceptibly, gaze still on Augum.
“Can you not help him, Mrs. Stone?” Haylee pressed.
Augum looked at the pillar. “No. I have to do it on my own.”
For a long moment nobody said a word.
“Then may thou fight bravely, Dragoon Stone,” Myrymydion said at last. This prompted the others to say similar words of
encouragement, but none were allowed to hug or even so much as shake his hand.
Leera pressed her fingers to her mouth and opened her palm toward him. Augum opened his hand, caught the kiss, and brought it to his cheek.
Jengo stepped near, but looked to Myrymydion. “Am I allowed to at least cast support simuls, sir?”
“Thou art indeed allowed, Dragoon Okeke.”
Jengo went on to cast Ally of the Dragon and Stamina of the Dragon, tapping Augum’s shoulder after each casting, boosting his casting strength by one degree as well as fattening his arcane stamina reserves. Augum then covered the area with mud, slapping additional mud onto his face and neck as a precaution, before turning to his great-grandmother.
“May I see the spyglass, Nana?” When she floated it over, he telekinetically caught it and examined the pillar, careful not to let the brass touch his eyes. He saw the black shape slither down over the other side of the pillar, which was only around a hundred feet wide. Knowing where he needed to teleport, he handed the spyglass back, then wiped his hands and the area around his eye with mud.
“We shall await your return here, Great-grandson,” Mrs. Stone said. “Exercise good judgment, remember your training, and may the Fates watch over you.”
“Thank you, Nana. Thank you all.”
He glanced about and memorized his surroundings, choosing a spot nearby to teleport back to. He looked at Leera one last time, noting how radiant she appeared in the fading suns—despite being splattered with mud. He smiled at her and she forced a bittersweet one in return. Then he tightened the rucksack over his shoulder, focused on the exact spot he wanted to teleport to on Pillar Olaf, and incanted, “Impetus peragro.”
Moments later, he appeared on the pillar with a loud thwomp, conscious that a full quarter of his stamina had been sucked off in the casting—the pillar was that far.
The ground immediately rumbled, indicating the dragon had heard or sensed his arrival. Already thinking this part through, he hid behind the nearest tree, barely thick enough to conceal his body. Normally he’d cast a Chameleon spell, but that would be a waste of time seeing as dragons had tendril sight. If anything, the arcanery would draw the dragon like a shark to blood.
