Greetings from Felix to his friend Thoth,
Do you still remember that day, my friend? The day the Architect first laid His enchantment upon the Custos bloodline. I know it will only reinforce your view of my youth, but that was the only Act of Making I ever witnessed. He made living weapons that day. To entwine magic with song! Such beauty! Almost eight hundred years ago, yet it feels like yesterday. I do miss Him. You knew Him for longer, but I daresay I loved Him as dearly as you. Do you think we'll ever see the Architect again? I never got the chance to thank Him properly for what He did. You know, it's funny, we may laugh at mortals when they pray to those we call friend, but at least they have someone to pray to. What do we have? Farewell.
Two men, one clad in gleaming steel, the other in an enveloping black cloak, gazed into the abyss. Before them lay the path into the forest, a long, straight path leading deep into the forest's heart. The path seemed to be carved through the forest by a tunneling borewyrm, so tightly packed were the trees on either side of it. A receding sun cast all into shadow.
Titus's eyes glittered, excitement lurking behind them. He wore the plate armor Clopay made for him shortly before everything else in his life had turned to ash. Runic inscription lined the gauntlets, lines of poetry written in the traditional Custos script. Every Guardian's armor recounts the tales of his victories, and thus Titus's armor bore only a scant few lines.
The Guardian looked at the midnight-clad man beside him,“ You sure?”
Lavonius's voice was steady as the tide,” how else will I write the song of your victory?”
“I'll write it myself.”
“Ah, but your song will be your own! My song will be mine. I must witness the battle to describe it properly!”
Titus shrugged,“ Your funeral.” His calling was to slay demons, not to protect the suicidal. Titus wondered where the other man had been born. Were all his people quite so foolhardy?
The Guardian donned his helmet, steel enveloping his head. He felt he was home at last, an impenetrable blanket all around him. He was warm in spite of the cool night air. Although his face was entirely enclosed, with the exception of a narrow eye-slit, he could breathe easily and unencumbered.
Minute lettering, scrawled across his helm, lit up with an incandescent white light, before dimming once more. Titus could feel Lavonius beside him just as easily as he could feel the Earth beneath his feet. He knew without looking that his pale companion had the same cock-sure posture, the same arrogant smirk on his face - not a hint of fear. Titus might have admired the man, if not for the fact that he would be dead by the end of the night.
With nary a word, the pair set off. One man's feet crunched heavily against the dirt road, while the other's scarcely disturbed the earth beneath them. Titus knew with a surety that no amount of darkness could stop his sight, but he wondered why Lavonius hadn't brought a lantern for himself. Curious. The loremaster strode along unerringly, his feet as sure as any huntsman's. Titus wondered where he had learned to move like that. Perhaps the young loremaster had been the son of a King's ranger.
A hundred feet beyond the treeline, Lavonius's arm shot out in front of Titus, stopping him mid-stride,” stop!”
Titus stopped.
“Look down.”
Titus looked down. What he had mistaken for a creeping vine was, in fact, a line of thick gossamer silk.
“Don’t touch the silk. This one doesn't look like it has the same adhesive on it that a proper web might have, but step on it and the spider will come all the same.”
“To sense prey?”
“Aye, boy, to sense prey. One of many ways the spiders hunt. Deeper into the forest, you'll find the man-sized webs I warned you of, but stepping onto a web like this will draw the creature upon us as surely as honey draws flies.”
“Very well. When we reach a clearing, I shall crush some silk beneath my boot.”
“That would be wise. We oughtn't fight the beast within the trees.”
Titus grunted assent. The reasoning was obvious.
The two men walked half a mile more, careful to avoid stepping on the silk. They stopped simultaneously.
Lavonius's red lips quirked into a grin,” you see it, too.”
Titus nodded. Unfolded before them was a vast web of silk, glistening ever so slightly with tiny gobbets of sticky fluid. A single touch would bring the spider on them with the speed of an arrow. Indeed, a single touch would hold a man fast - better than any rope or chain.
“We can't burn it.”
“No, we can't. Watch.” Lavonius stepped to the far right edge of the road before leaping forward in an arcing dive roll, slipping through a gap in the web with the agility of an acrobat. Now where had he learned to do that? Perhaps he had been in the circus, too.
Springing to his feet with a smirk, Lavonius turned back to his companion,” and that, my boy, is how it is done. This web is held aloft by several strands connected to the trees on either side. As you can see, there are gaps on the edges.”
Something caught Titus's eye at the foot of the web. It looked like a long bundle of silk, a little over six feet long. He squatted to look closer. There was a large hole on one side of the bundle, as though somebody had rammed a spear into it.
“Something a-matter, my boy?”
Ah. Titus nodded. Of course. If his heart hadn’t been empty, he might have felt something in that moment. Instead he stood, and returned Lavonius's gaze,” just a body. Let's keep moving.” Without another word, he slipped through a gap, far lower than the one Lavonius had slipped through so gracefully.
Lavonius studied the boy cryptically. The boy hadn’t even flinched. Lavonius had seen hardened veterans shudder when they witnessed the aftermath of a monster like this.
Onward they marched.
“Are you not affected by death, Titus?”
“Why should death phase me? It comes for us all.”
“Aye, but it's only natural to recoil at the sight of it. Do you not wonder that that body did not smell?”
“It was a husk. I'd assume the creature drinks its prey dry.”
Lavonius stepped carefully over a tendril of silk, shaking his head,” it saddens me.”
“Yes, Loremaster. Death saddens most people, I think.”
“That's not what I'm talking about.”
Silence reigned.
After ten more minutes of walking, the forest widened out into a broad, grassy clearing. Tendrils of silk slithered through the clearing, shining in the light of the moon. It was quite the sight, though Titus did not have eyes to see. The clearing looked like an abstract painting, all geometric shapes and angles - the grass made for an excellent canvas. It would be painted with a different kind of brush before the night was over.
The pair paused at the clearing's edge. Lavonius cocked his head to one side, as though listening to a harp that only he could hear.
Titus scanned the edge of the clearing, trying to feel what was there. He felt nothing. He grunted in satisfaction before striding forward into the clearing. Heavily booted feet smashed through a dozen lines of silk before he found himself in the center of the clearing. The Blooded warrior waited.
The spider would come. It knew he was there.
The youth didn't know how long he waited. It could have been a minute. It could have been ten. It could have been a day and a night. Time passed, and the forest was silent.
He appeared entirely unconcerned, shoulders relaxed and head staring at the grass in front of him. His knees were bent ever so slightly, the only indication of tension in his entire body.
You are well-acquainted, my good librarian, with the workings of Custos armor, so I shan't need to explain the effect it had on Titus's senses. Suffice to say, the spider thought it was ambushing unwary prey - it was not.
Faster than a lightning bolt, a black shape exploded from the treeline. It hurtled toward Titus, forelegs outstretched. A viper's bite could not have been faster. Yet the spider's body sailed through empty air.
The instant it had begun its jump, nigh invisible in the night air, Titus had leapt aside, feet lightly brushing the grass beneath him. The beast came crashing down where he had stood an instant before, scything talons clawing at the air where his head had been.
A single gauntleted fist came crashing down on its hind leg, striking with the force of a falling boulder. A sickening crack resounded across the clearing, and a deafening hiss assaulted the monster-hunter's ears.
Titus's mind was clear. There was no thought. There was no feeling. There was only action.
The spider spun toward him, razor-sharp foreleg slicing through the air. He swayed gracefully to one side, raising an arm to deflect the blow. Sparks skated off one gauntleted forearm as he slipped away.
He took the beast's measure. He watched it move, noticed the slight bunching of its joints just before it leapt at him once more.
Bobbing aside, he counterstruck once more. Another deafening CRACK, and another leg had broken. Two of the beast's legs hung limp, black ichor leaking out of them. It hissed like a snake, and spat at him. Swifter than a slinger's stone, a large glob of venom streaked toward Titus's head. Except his head was no longer there.
Titus dived aside, rolling to his feet and raising his hands once more. He longed to incinerate the beast in a raging inferno of flame, but he had no desire to burn the forest to the ground. In hindsight, we should all be lucky he did not try to do so - you know as well as I, my friend, that a Var'shun spider's chitin is all but immune to flame.
Instead Titus waited for the creature's next strike. And so went the dance.
The Guardian bobbed and weaved, slipping under talons and deftly evading lightning-fast attacks before replying with his own devastating counter-punches.
He barely made a sound. Grunts escaped his lips as he broke the beast down, raining down bone-shattering strikes, each punch a hammerblow capable of shattering boulders.
A third leg was broken. Then a fourth. On it went, until the monster lay piteously upon the grassy forest floor. Its massive forelegs scrabbled for purchase as its broken legs lay uselessly about it, leaking viscous black fluids. It hissed and sputtered, struggling in vain to lay hold of its erstwhile prey.
Titus strolled in a circle about the edge of the clearing, surveying his handiwork. Some part of him felt alive. Adrenaline surged through his veins. He had always loved fighting. He had always loved winning. He even took a measure of satisfaction from killing. For just a few minutes, he felt alive again, and the stone heart receded. Titus smiled.
Satisfied that the arachnid was suitably weakened, the Custos warrior sprinted forward. He sprinted right, prompting a furious struggle on the spider's part to face toward him. At the last moment, he dove to its left side, and the spider hissed in frustration.
With a grunt of effort, the Guardian leapt atop the creature's back, and clasped its many-eyed head in each hand. His fingers pierced its shell. Searing flame leapt from his finger-tips and into its chitinous head. The beast's innards boiled and hissed, steam escaped from its joints. The hissing turned to a shriek of superheated air before the beast's eyes exploded and jets of flame shot out of them. With a great shudder, the monster fell dead.
The Guardian gasped for air. All of a sudden, his exertion caught up to him, and he felt a flush of blood rush to his face. He felt hot, and started sweating for the first time since the confrontation began.
A slow clap reached Titus's ears. Strolling out of the path behind him was his pale companion, entirely untouched by the creature's wroth. “Well-done, my friend. Well done, indeed.”
“Where the hell were you?”
“Around.”
“Disappeared pretty conveniently when the fighting started.”
“How am I to regale noble Lords and Ladies with tales of your great deeds if I cannot step aside to observe them?”
“Who asked you to tell tales about me?”
“Why you did, of course! The moment you asked for my help.”
“I didn't ask you”- Titus leapt down from the spider's carcass -” to come with me!”
“Don't be silly, my boy!”
Lavonius walked toward the carcass, his eyes fixated on its serrated jaws - or rather, something that lay behind them. “I would advise you to look away if you feel queasy.” A single slim hand reached into its maw and grabbed ahold of something unseen.
After a moment of great tugging and pulling, Titus heard a pop. Something squelched as Lavonius pulled his hand from the thing's throat, pulling out a nodule roughly the size of a pomegranate.
“What is that?”
“This, my boy, is the wealth that lies within the Var'shun spider.” Lavonius wrapped the mass of flesh in cheesecloth,” I told you that they've largely gone from the good King's domain. The reason for that is this right here.``
The pale man hefted the bundle for a moment before tying it off with some string and setting it into a leather pouch at his side, “Several centuries ago, the Royal Doctors devised a means of crafting a potent medicine from the spider's venom. As such, they pay a hefty price for any spider venom that can be found. When we get to Tolmepolis, I shall present it to Cyrus's doctor, and you shall receive the credit. It will give you a good in-roads with the royal family.”
“Why?”
Lavonius shrugged,” why not? You're an interesting person, and I expect that you will find friendship within Cyrus's court far more easily than you will a rival Custos Clan.”
“Why do you care if I have friends?”
“You need them.”
“Why do you care what I need?”
“I have a fondness in my heart for people such as yourself.” Lavonius wore a sad smile.
"Interesting people?”
“Broken people.”
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