They followed the shoreline until they found the road, though to call it a road would have been high praise. It was merely a patch of dirt that was slightly discolored compared to the dirt around it, with the perfunctory marks of wheel tracks and heavy animal footprints that had long since faded. Clearly, the last time the village saw any sort of mercantile movement had been weeks or even months ago.
The road meandered as it followed up a hill, with the fog becoming thicker the further up they went. “Liam…” Bunny warned when the fog had become so thick it was like being dipped into a glass of milk.
Milk that felt evil and creepy, the sort that had remained in the fridge for a little too long and you knew probably had a funny smell if you opened it up.
“I know, I know.” He replied, trying to remain calm but not entirely able to dispel that feeling of the world being wrong somehow, threatening. Even when he was absolutely certain of what awaited them, it did not make it any more bearable. “Do you know about infohazards?”
“There was once a demigod with a divine attribute that charmed any mortals who knew of her existence.” Bunny answered from his shoulder, the tiny black fluff shivering a little. “Merely hearing her name would cause you to instantly become obsessed… which became awkward after she died. A few cults popped up attempting to bring her back to life, only turning to trying to remake a new version of her once that invariably failed.”
Liam laughed. “Yeah, Hethromorumumuma, one of the stupidest names I ever wrote.”
Bunny lunged out of his shoulder but did so while holding his hair, yanking him and nearly toppling him over. “HOW!?” She shrieked into his ear. “How do you know that name? How are you not-”
“I already said how! You just all seem to think that what I meant only applies to some specific aspects about Maridah and nothing else.”
It was a subject he’d been thinking about a lot. Certainly, his creations could not hold a candle to reality; no amount of descriptions and words would ever be able to completely encapsulate something as simple as a piece of scenery, let alone an individual. But at the same time, it was hard to miss that the grains of truth remained there. Wherever he looked, there were those tiny bits of coarseness that drew back memories to the time he’d written things out.
Yet, everything gravitated back to that singular question: had he actually created and controlled events within this world, or had he merely been a poorly fed oracle, having visions of a world that had remained out of his reach until now?
He swatted Bunny off, needing to fight the frantic lagomorph for a few seconds before she relented. “Besides, among infohazards, it’s one of the easiest to deal with. There are several ways to break the effect if it takes hold, but honestly, so long as you read the name before you hear it, you are inoculated.” Grimacing, he rubbed at his temple where she’d nearly tried to scalp him. “Anyway, the thing doing this whole mess is mostly within the realm of infohazards; it’s a noetic hazard.”
She eyed him, scowling as she returned to his shoulder. “Meaning?”
“It’s a danger that builds over time through exposure. The more you think about it, the worse it gets, and the more victims it claims, the stronger it becomes.” His smile wavered slightly. “The main reason why I brought you along is that you’re going to be my failsafe. Being an aspect means you’re immune to anything we’ll find in there, so if it looks like I’m going off the deep end, I’m counting on you to pull me out.”
“And… how would that look?”
“Anything that looks like it is going to get me killed by my own hand, there are several options depending on how things play out.” He waved his hand vaguely. “If it comes down to it, feel free to blind me. Not exactly something I’d enjoy, but it’s better than the alternative.”
This hadn’t exactly been his proudest creation, made during that same phase he’d gone through after the breakup, wanting to hurt things and writing being his outlet. Worse, it was a creation made during that period where he thought he was the smartest ass in the room. The story that was meant to unfold within this village was one of suffering and tension, capped off with a shitty punchline just for the sake of presenting one gigantic middle finger to the world.
Liam hadn’t been proud of that phase back when everything was just words on paper.
He certainly wasn’t proud now that those words would mean lives would be ruined.
Today would not just serve as doing a little clean-up but also to verify the answer to whether Liam had held actual direct influence with this world. He wasn’t entirely sure which of the two answers was the one he wanted, nor what he’d do once he got it. But it felt crucial that he knew with something more than just a fair degree of confidence. He needed proof.
“One bout of homesickness and I get all gloomy again,” he muttered to himself in English, shaking off the feeling and rubbing his face to get things back on track.
“I don’t know what you just said,” Bunny muttered from his shoulder in Caliphate-common. “But you should know that it’s perfectly fine to have these feelings.”
“Where’s this coming from?”
“Just trying to share a bit of wisdom,” she said calmly. “We’ve had the distinct impression you’ve been emotionally locked off at least since you came to the jungle, maybe even from before that. There’s a numbness to your aura that is hard to miss, one you only pierce out of from time to time.”
“Oh, yeah.” His smile turned wry. “It’s… understandable, really.”
“So you are aware of this?”
“I am.” He nodded in response. “Before I came here, I’d spent the better part of a decade just… working. Tirelessly going at it in an environment that did its best to wear me out. Trying to go back to who I was as a person before I entered that hole is… not easy. Especially because a lot has changed since those times.”
He wanted to think he’d left the broody part of him back at that dead-end job, he was on his way towards becoming a literal mage, he was carrying two literally magical items. By every metric, he was living exactly the kind of life he could have only dreamed of. But it was still something that seemed to cling to him.
“Were you a prisoner?” Her voice carried a concerned edge to it.
“Only in the vaguer sense of the word. I was in a constant grind trying to find a way to earn enough to pay for stuff like food or rent.” Liam chuckled, shaking his head. “The most expensive luxury I ever bought was my bathrobe. Acrylic with a fake cashmere-like finish, bright neon blue, with the brand name so badly sewn in place it fell off after the second wash.” His gaze became distant. “It was so tacky I broke down laughing trying to imagine what lunatic would willingly wear such a thing.”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Bunny watched him quietly before turning to look ahead. For a moment she seemed ready to say something, but thought better of it as she shook her floppy ears. “So you bought it only because it made you happy?”
“Because it made me feel silly every time I put it on, and it was something that made life more bearable. It helped me realize how important it is to look for those little things that make you smile.” He grinned, scratching her chin, the rabbit thumping her leg against his shoulder. “By the way, I think we’re near the place, can you see anything?”
“Obviously. Some little fog is nothing to a Goddess’ vision.” Bunny immediately preened. “Just go a little further to the right and you’ll reach the cottage… if that was your destination.”
“Pretty much.” He looked himself over, trying to smooth out the haphazard look he was carrying. Though for that he’d need a miracle, there was only so much you could do with a guy not having shaved in over a month (it really didn’t help that Liam’s beard looked closer to an anemic rusty metal sponge). “By the way, if everything matches properly, the guy is sort of a collector. Not everything in his collection is safe though, it’s sort of one of the reasons he came here to study some of those items in relative safety.”
“I know the type,” her tone carried a sing-song quality to it, the sort that almost made her appear excited at the prospect. “The bitch-boss loves them, great secret-seekers if you know how to wrangle their curiosity into something productive.”
Liam grimaced. “This one is not as likeab-”
“Stop,” Bunny called out in a harsh whisper. “There are others.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “Fuck.”
He hurried forward despite Bunny’s complaints. As he got closer, he spotted the faint lights ahead. The cottage was a stark contrast to the buildings in the village, built out of perfectly cut stone bricks, two stories tall, and with actual glass on its windows. The thing appeared completely alien to the barebones constructs down below, far closer to some high-end vacation retreat.
There was a fire within, flickering through the windows, illuminating the fog with a slight red tint. There were horse-drawn wagons stationed at the side, though there was a distinct lack of people present, the silence surrounding the structure only making the hairs on Liam’s neck stand on edge.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Rushing to the door, he hammered his fist against the wood in what he hoped didn’t sound overly aggressive, counting the seconds and trying to pay close attention to the sounds inside.
There was only silence, increasing his concerns.
The quietness was broken by creaking wood; the door slowly opened. “Yes?”
It was a frail old man, human, with deeply tanned skin wrinkled like oak, hair a glossy pale washed-off gray, and robes made of blue silk. The first human Liam had seen in months stared up at him with old, worn eyes, blinking through cataracts with a look of surprise. There was a single piece of jewelry on the man, a simple ruby oval pendant hanging from a string, with a rune etched upon its surface.
Liam didn’t bother with niceties, shoving the bony man to the side and pushing into the room.
The sound of party and merriment reached his ears, alongside a deliciously sweet scent. There were at least a dozen people inside, spread around the hearth, basking in the warmth, sharing laughter and song, eating from a massive golden platter filled to the top with delicately frosted muffins.
Liam tried to turn his attention away from the platter, to focus on the nebulous group of people arrayed around the pile of confectioneries. But his eyes gravitated to the pile, at the pink, blue, and gold inlays of sugar that decorated each individual muffin in what could only be a work of art. His mouth watered at the sight of them, remembering times spent wrapped in warm blankets with a hot cup of coffee.
Unable to break free from their sway, stepping closer, a singular warning ran through his mind, and he spoke five fateful words.
“The cake is a lie,” he declared, first in English, and then three more times in the more common tongues of the Caliphate. He cringed each time, feeling like this was not the answer he'd been looking for, but with little time to dwell on it right now.
The illusion collapsed instantly.
The muffins and their scent were gone, replaced by a pile of polished rocks.
And where there was once a gathering of merriment was now a scene of devastation. Dozens of people lay spread around the room, eyes wide and empty, bodies still, stomachs bloated. What few of them had human-enough complexions were too pale and too still to be alive.
There was just one figure that remained moving, a taurid figure, with the lower body of a lion, and the upper body of a woman clad in light linen robes and furs. She was shaped as if a centaur had been fused with a lioness, though her upper body had faint traces of feline traits. She’d been holding on to one of the stones, looking at it in utter bafflement, the lower part of her face covered in blood, two broken fangs lying on the floor in front of her.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
The leonid looked around the room with widening gold eyes, trailing over her dead companions before coming to a stop on Liam.
Next to him came the sound of scrambling footsteps, the old man not having bothered to ask anything as he rushed to escape.
The leonid’s gaze locked onto the open door, pupils narrowing into slits. Her hand drifted down to her hips where a sheathed blade welcomed her grip.
“Wait, don’t!” Liam tried to stop her. But in a single bound, she’d stood and reached the door, another and she’d ducked under the threshold and out. “Don’t let her touch the pendant!” Grabbing Bunny, he threw the screaming lagomorph towards the door, following on foot though completely unable to keep up.
Outside, the old man had proven to be surprisingly spry, getting far enough from the cottage Liam could not see him. But he could hear the direction he’d taken as a roar echoed through the mist, followed by the man’s screams.
And then, silence.
Liam’s jaw clenched. “Come on…”
A shout, then swearing, and a ball of blackness sprung from the mist, rushing towards Liam and leaping into his arms. “I got it!” Bunny let out the harsh whisper before ducking under his shirt.
The leonid appeared a moment after, blood splattered across her blade and clothes, eyes wild as she frantically looked around. There was a glint of red in the gold of her iris. “Where is it!?” She asked, brandishing the scimitar not quite in a directly threatening way, but too coiled for it to be safe.
“What?” He took a step back, keeping himself at the threshold of the cottage, arms raised to show he wasn’t wielding any weapon.
“The black rabbit.” She glowered. “The red light, it’s important that I-”
“Where are you from? Why are you here? What’s your name?” Liam immediately interrupted her train of thought before it could finish.
The red pendant had been the main threat he’d come to neutralize. Once you touched it you would see a red light on its surface, and the more you thought of that light, the more you would obsess over it. Even if you never saw the pendant ever again, the condition could worsen, consuming the victim’s mind until it was the only thing they could think about.
Given enough time and influence, it would drive the kindest soul into murder if it meant a chance at being able to get the pendant. Liam didn’t want to consider the potential effects on someone already inclined to take a life.
“I-” The leonid stopped herself, frowning. “I should ask the same, who are you?”
“I saved your life, if that means nothing to you, then should I be concerned for my safety?” His tone was argumentative and contrarian, intentionally pushing her into irritation. Not the smartest move in the world, but he hoped it would give her thoughts something else to lock onto.
He’d need to get her to Maridah so she could take away the memory of the pendant altogether. Anything less just wouldn’t work.
“Not unless you were a part of this.” Another moment of hesitation, looking herself over. She wiped her blade clean against her clothes before sheathing it. “I am Imani Sharpclaw.” She declared, giving a curt nod of her head, albeit giving him a once-over with her predatory gaze. “Who are you?”
Liam’s eyes widened in surprise.
Imani Sharpclaw, sword for hire, daughter of the leonid chieftain of a large tribe halfway across the continent. She would become a rising star within the upcoming war, showcasing incredible combat prowess and a sharp strategically inclined mind. Eventually, she would become the leader of her own mercenary company. She was also not supposed to be here, but rather several hundred miles further north and entirely outside of the Caliphate's borders.
He couldn't imagine any reason why she would be there, at least not one that hadn't come out of the meddling from someone else. And if there was such a thing as a premium meddler, that would be Thalgrim.