Fields and Parasites

It was only after a quarter of an hour that Wanderer realised something rather peculiar, the road they now stood on was a massive construction, likely requiring hundreds of people to build, yet despite this, the path was nearly entirely empty.

This perplexed the Vessel, the road was wide enough for ten people to walk side by side, yet as far as Wanderer could see there was not a soul in sight.

Even more perplexing was that there was evidence that the road was regularly travelled, all down its sides were torches of a strange make, closer to candles than anything else.

Every single torch, however, had only recently burnt out, some still lightly smouldering in the breeze.

It was a odd conundrum, one even their Spirit was unable to decipher, their best guess being that those who used this road had a fear of the dark.

“But it is daytime, why would they not cross now?”, Wanderer proposed, only to be met with no answer, their guiding Spirit clueless.

That was a foreign concept to Wanderer, that their Spirit, who had almost always shown them self to be a force of knowledge, might not know something.

They had always come up with the best solution or the most logical idea, this was the only time in their short life that they had known them to be clueless.

A pang of remorse flowed through the link between the two, the Spirit apologising for their lack of knowledge, and sending a word of advice, suggesting that they were not all-knowing, nor infallible and that the Golem should always remember as such.

Humbled, Wanderer left the conversation as it was and turned their sights to Emio, who was silently slinking along behind them, their single runic eye staring intently into the grass.

There in front of them, half hidden by the grass lay the corpse of a long legged, horse-like creature, its black and white stripes breaking the pattern of the field.

It had long, long legs almost tripling its height, the whole lower part of these legs were bony and hard, seeming one giant hoof more than flesh and bone.

Yet it was hard to tell what the dead animal would have looked like in life, as it was sucked dry of all its blood, becoming a shrivelled husk of what it once was, body full of puncture wounds where the zebra had been drained dry.

“What could have done this?”, the Golem thought.

In their travels they had encountered all kinds of predatory creatures, yet they had all been quick and efficient in their attacks.

But this murder was the opposite, it was a process that would have undoubtebly involved pain and suffering as the zebra was drained of its lifeblood, unable to escape.

A quick glance over showed that Emio had now entered their attack position, wooded tendril raised like a snake would rear its head.

Its single runic eye was surveying the grass intently, searching for something hiding in the field.

They stood there stock still for a long moment, until a small area of grass shifted ever so slightly, unnoticeable if they weren’t looking for it.

A readied tendril shot out so fast the Vessel could barely track it, Emio latching onto the offender and fishing it out from its home, before holding it high in the air for all to see.

It was a tick, almost the size of Emio, although much of that was due to its egregiously large body which was engorged with stolen blood.

Its tiny head had a long, drill-like proboscis which was undoubtedly used to drain its victims dry and its legs were long and thin, frantically spasming in all directions in a futile attempt to escape the verdestry’s grasp.

Somewhere within themself, Wanderer was beginning to dislike insects, the swarmlings having started the prejudice and these ticks compounding on it, their parasitic, predatory nature creating a well of animosity.

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“But predators are part of nature, aren’t they?”, the Golem realised.

No matter where they intended to go, they would encounter predators and prey, they couldn’t hate every animal they came across just because they followed their nature.

And they didn’t, Wanderer realised, the fog-beast, snakes and humans were all predatory, all having actively harmed Wanderer, and yet they didn’t hate them, fear them perhaps but not hate.

“Then why do i dislike the ticks, when they have yet to harm me?”, the swarmlings were more traumatic and inflicted more pain than any other threat before them, so the prejudice against them was logical.

Yet the insectoid parasites had yet to even acknowledge their existence, let alone harm them, so why did they have such an innate resentment against them?

An image flashed through their mind, one of a zebra gracefully exploring the tall grass, before being dragged down by a swarm of ticks, before slowly and agonisingly drained of their blood, trapped.

Perhaps that was it, the reason why Wanderer was so against the parasitic monsters, those that they killed were trapped, unable to move, unable to explore, only able to reflect on their misery.

The very thought of it opposed the Golems' nature, an insult in all but words.

Wanderer reached up and took the bug from Emio’s grasp, it would be a simple action to end the creature's life and the Vessel was sure there was no shortage of them in the grass.

Yet they wouldn't, even if Wanderer had not taken an oath of pacifism, the arachnid didn't deserve to die just for its nature, the creature was merely following its instincts.

The Golem set the creature down on the floor, watching cautiously to make sure it didn’t turn around and attack them.

Once the tick was freed, however, it didn't attack, nor run away, merely slowly wandered off into the grass like nothing had ever happened.

That was peculiar to the group, the insects did not appear to be particularly intelligent creatures, yet Wanderer would have expected them to at least acknowledge their existence.

Perplexed, the party travelled on, Wanderer always keeping a cautious eye on the field surrounding them, half expecting a ravenous horde of parasites to break out at any moment.

And so the party trekked forward till the sun reached high in the sky, lighting the sea of swaying grass with a light blue tinge and heating the air till it became a pleasant warm.

As they walked the scenery changed a little, the grass remaining much the same, yet now, great, rotund baobab trees rose from the ground, their trunks as thick as their canopy was wide.

Eventually, Wanderer worked up the courage to wade through the grass, and while they occasionally caught a glimpse of a tick moving around its home, neither they nor Emio caught any resistance from the arachnids.

Further inspection of these trees showed that they were covered by tiny little termites, their bodies a metallic green, these creatures spilling from one of the numerous insect mounds that rose from the field.

Yet these insects, while fascinating with their rigid trails and orderly work, were over-shined by the herd of zebras standing under the shade of a nearby tree.

While much of their features could be gained from the shrivelled corpse, it didn't truly compare to the real thing, each one a towering, kind-looking creature with their long legs allowing them to remain safely above the grass and the enemies it harboured.

The Golem slowly approached, careful not to scare them away, yet the horse-like creatures seemed just as curious of the Golem as the Golem was of them, as they approached in much the same way.

“Why aren't they scared?” they wondered.

Nearly every other creature Wanderer had encountered was at least cautious of them, why then were the zebras approaching them so casually?

They thought on it for a moment, as the friendly mammals strode over, before their Spirit provided an answer, stating that they did not fear Wanderer because they have never had to fear.

The Golem had yet to see any true threat to the herd, besides the ticks which they avoided with their innate height, as such it is likely they had never had to fear other animals, and as such had no reason to fear Wanderer.

A bolt of joy shot through the Vessel, causing them to abandon their previous caution and run up to the long-legged creatures, who, with only a light flinch of shock, became receptive to the Golem and began to sniff them, determined to work out the new arrival.

A tiny shot of jealousy coursed through Wanderer, an new emotion to them, they had no nose and as such could not smell causing them to wonder what it was like, a whole new world of sensations that they could have been explored.

Wanderer raised a single hand toward the beast's side, and seeing no adverse reaction to it, began to stroke the short fur of the zebra in front of them.

A delighted neigh erupted out from the creature, as it greatly enjoyed the contact and before long, half the herd had gathered around to receive pats from the Golem.

Even Emio tried their hand at the action, with debatable levels of success, their shrubbed body making for a rather scratchy rub, and seeing their relative failure they grumpily resigned to take their traditional place atop Wanderer's head.

But just as Wanderer had relaxed into the blissful state they found themself in, fate felt it right to intervene, ripping the group's attention away by a terror-filled scream.

Immediately they turned toward the source and came upon a terrible sight, just a few hundred steps away a carriage, towed by two horses and filled to the brim with candles and torches, sat next to a group of humans, one of whom strayed too far into the grass and was being descended upon by the ticks.