The Twilight Jungle had a peculiarity in that water was both easy and hard to come by. There would always be some part of the jungle where it rained, the area shifting constantly. If you were lucky or knowledgeable, then you’d get free fresh drinking water for days. If you, however, were Liam, you’d need to go about the alternate routes, mainly to seek out either plants or rivers.
After a full day of trekking in what amounted to one large circle, he collapsed back at the campsite. He’d briefly considered looking for the swamp area again, but even that had proven futile. He was lucky he even got back to camp to begin with.
Maridah was waiting for him, the wolf seated next to the gutted deer-mutant corpse, quietly staring as he thumped his ass on the ground and began working to make a fire. Foresight had saved him some effort in this task: he’d left some branches and twigs to dry the previous night.
“I think it’s safe to say I’ve gotten very little done today,” he muttered dejectedly. “If there’s a way to find water I’m meant to learn, I’ve not discovered it.”
“You avoided my traps,” she cocked her head, the shadowy fur swirling as if smoke caught in an invisible wind.
“Definitely luck, I didn’t notice anything,” the words felt more like an admission of guilt; it irritated him a little.
“On that we agree,” she nodded. “If you had, you would’ve easily found what you were looking for.”
Cutting out some meat from the carcass and putting it on a stick, Liam pondered on that proclamation. It was a hint of some kind. Was he meant to look for the water through scent? He was certain he would’ve found it out of sound or sight, or maybe…
“You want me to sense mana.”
“No, that is a far more advanced step than the one you are in currently,” the wolf shook her head lightly. “What you need to learn is to…” She stopped, shaking her head again. “That which allows you to avoid my traps should let you find water as well. This is something I cannot give you a true answer to, for it is yours and yours alone.”
She was gone before Liam could ask further.
“Must be super convenient to pretend you’re gone so you have the last word in a conversation,” he muttered under his breath, taking a bite out of the meat that was somehow both burnt and undercooked.
Wanting nothing more than to sleep and rest up, Liam found himself unable to. His mind tossed and turned over Maridah’s words, carefully thinking back to the things he’d done so far. Had there been anything in particular that had made him take the course he had?
With sleep completely denied to him, Liam tended to the flames, using their heat to dry out more wood for tomorrow’s fire. It wasn’t exactly efficient, but it was better than doing nothing at all.
Morning came before he’d found an answer to the riddle.
Now able to see his path ahead, he set off again, but this time he tried to be more observant not just of his surroundings but of his own decisions and impressions.
It didn’t take long for him to find a spot where he wanted to go elsewhere. It wasn’t a compulsion, at least not one he felt was external. Looking around, he tried to find what was different or out of place.
Yet nothing jumped out at him as odd. The trees were just as green and mossy as any other spot, and the same applied to the bushes, the vines, and the soil. Liam stepped away from the area in an attempt to sense differences but…
But maybe that was the wrong way to look at it? Pondering this, he chose the most direct approach towards the situation: step into the danger and see if he learned anything new from that.
The instant he stepped forward, he felt as if someone had spent the previous hour giving him hints to warn him why he should not have done that. It was like watching a series for the second time and noticing all the little details that betrayed who the bad guy really was.
For Liam, the details boiled down to exactly one: while there were bird songs in other areas of the jungle, chirps and calls, here they were missing. An instrument in the orchestra of noise that was not present.
Now he stood face to face with a tube of scales spiraling up a tree.
He froze in place, slowly raising his eyes further and further up. The creature had to be at least thirty meters long and as thick as his own torso, probably more. And as his gaze traveled up to the nearest branch, a pair of golden slitted eyes stared back at him.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
The head of this snake was the size of a motorbike.
It flicked its tongue out at him, silently tasting the air, tasting him.
Liam’s brain categorized the event: ambush burst predator, coiled around tree, aware of his presence before he’d even approached. It was dangerous, deadly, and something Liam would not be able to handle. But the creature was not intent on hunting or hurting him.
If it were, it would be coiled around itself and ready to jump.
Slowly, carefully, he stepped back and away, a step becoming a dozen, and then a dozen more. Far enough away, his heart stopped galloping, and his cold sweat began to dry. Far enough away, he stopped looking over his shoulder and at the treetops overhead for any signs of silent pursuit.
Liam sheathed the knife with trembling hands and combed his fingers through the matted mess of hair. This was one of Maridah’s traps, then. She’d meant to use this to scare him shitless. Perhaps future traps would be more immediately lethal or dangerous, perhaps they already were and he’d just lucked out. If anything, the snake itself might try to make him a snack.
“Wait.”
He looked over his shoulder again.
This encounter wasn’t random; it had been put there. The jungle was under Maridah’s domain; she'd cared for it for millions of years. If something was somewhere, then it was because she either put it there or because she allowed it.
Retracing his steps back to the camp, he looked around.
The question was now where the Goddess would’ve hidden the water.
The camp area was a little sanctum of safety tucked in the middle of a deadly jungle, a secret. One of potentially many that she’d designed over the endless years she’d spent alone.
Scouring the camp with a new perspective, he found a soft murmuring sound under one of the bushes. It took a bit of hacking and cutting before he found a tiny spring, its water seeping directly into the soil and filtering through to the underground without a trace.
“I couldn’t have a faithful who didn’t understand at least the core of what I am,” Maridah’s amused voice came from a spot next to him, the shadowy wolf forming once more.
Liam drank from the refreshing water heartily. The spring barely put out enough to keep pace with his own thirst, clearly meant as a personal fountain of sorts.
“Secrets none know are worthless, no better than an ephemeral dream that’s forgotten upon awakening,” She added, closely watching him drink.
“You were never worthless,” He muttered between gulps, splashing some water on his face and shaking off the day’s weariness. “Not that I’d need to tell you that.”
Maridah glared for a moment, then shook her head and turned away. “Your reward for your efforts,” She flicked her tail, revealing several lengths of black rope. “Now that you’ve gained access to water and fire, you will learn to forage and hunt.”
Liam stared at the rope, at how it almost seemed to suck out the light around itself, then at the knife that hung, sheathed, from his hip. He gritted his teeth and stared at the Goddess. “You don’t need to expend your divinity for this.”
“And give my faithful some brittle bit of trash? No.” Another flick of her tail, and the rope was sent flying his way, nearly smacking him in the face in the process. “Besides, you won’t be able to make your way out without them. Once you reach mortal lands, word will eventually spread. Perhaps if you do your task properly, then others will begin to dare venture into my domain in search of secrets.”
“Still, two…”
“Volkanar provided more divinity than I had any use for. Is my form so dazzling you could not notice the changes I’ve gone through?” She declared with mock dismissiveness, her fiery eyes daring him to press the matter further.
He knew exactly how much making a divine tool took out of a God. This was no simple gesture or casual investment; someone like Maridah shouldn’t have been in a position to make one, let alone two. Still, it wasn’t like he was in a position to turn her down.
“Suddenly, I’m afraid of what I’ll encounter out there.”
“My domain does not cover the whole jungle; it is only a part of its heart.” She shot him a dirty look. “Until you cross the threshold, the biggest threats you will face are those caused by your own actions. Though you knew this already.”
Of course, he had; she’d saved his life and brought him into her territory. He was her guest, and that had implications and obligations that went further than mere cordiality. Divinity was not something to be trifled with lightly; they had rules they could not ignore, much like how Liam couldn’t ignore gravity. Some of these rules had been part of the fabric of the world, others had been imposed by the Triumvirate Throne and would last as long as the divine tool itself did.
“And that is why the next lesson is hunting.” She stepped past him and towards the not-deer’s corpse. “You will need to eat, and the prey is in its right to defend itself even within my domain.”
“And I guess a future lesson will be on how to avoid being hunted.” His brows furrowed.
Maridah laughed, a sound not much unlike a howl. “Oh no, that is part of this lesson. Hospitality might not let me orchestrate your death, but there are many ways to make life thoroughly unpleasant.” She grinned, revealing far too many rows of gleaming white fangs, far more than should’ve fit within her wolfish muzzle. “Be sure to approach your lesson seriously.”
The deity dissolved into smoke, and Liam was left staring at the two divine tools he’d been provided.
It would probably be best to learn their ins and outs before he committed to going out to find food. Knowing Maridah, the Goddess had probably made the only vegetation-based food available to him something capable of fighting back just as hard as any of the fauna found in this place.