“Alma, mate. I see your arse shivering in them boots. Didn’t I tell you to wear the snow cloak Nia made?” Hwalín nudged the sniperess in the arm with her shoulder. “Surely ya trust us by now.”
“And I told you I’m fine with my jacket.” Alma replied with a piercing gaze before sighing. “And I do. I do trust you, but I'm already dealing with enough otherworldly caca. Magic's the limit for me. I have no idea what othering will do, especially if it somehow interferes with my own. Which is still very weird to say.”
“Aye, I hear ya. It's completely mental. But here's an idea. Think of yourself as a magic knight of sorts.”
“Magic Knight?! L-Like in Gat Warrior Legend? My favorite cartoon about anthropomorphic cyborg gatins?” The theme song crept back into her head like a worm almost immediately and she couldn’t help but start to hum it aloud.
“Uhhh, sure mate. Just like in your cartoon.” Hwalín turned to the eldritch woman beside her and whispered to her, “Can you believe this girl, Nia? She says that but clearly some trust issues just never go away.”
Qu'l-Nia had been eerily silent for the past several minutes, prompting the Hecatian to try to get her attention time and again. Still, this hadn't been too out of the ordinary for her, leaving the other two merely scratching their heads in mild curiosity.
“It's the darndest thing, Nia. Can't hear anything queer over the crazy blizzard pelting us every which way. You sure we're going the right way?”
After another bout of silence, Qu’l-Nia finally spoke. “Yes. We are here.” The eldritch woman had stopped and was looking up from the embankment toward a figure neither of them had previously noticed.
An ominous, bestial entity wearing the face of a bovine-like creature with ancient, gnarled antlers bigger than any Alma had ever witnessed on a woodland animal. Its half-gaped maw was filled with rows of jagged and crooked teeth, pushing past the barrier of its mouth that seemed barely held together with sinewy strings of flesh, revealing bone visible just underneath. Its beady, silver eyes pierced through the raging snow from several feet high in the air. Its body was long and emaciated, with disgusting leathery skin covered in sparsely patterned hair. Its ribs protruded from its body and bulging veins pulsed along every inch of the monster. Its arms seemed almost stretched beyond their limits, tearing at its bicep muscles. Its fingers were extra long and protruded into sharp, skewering claws. The legs sprouting from the eerie creature were as tall as small trees and covered in incredibly dense hair. A small bit of cloth wrapped loosely around its crotch. Around its neck was tied the ratty looking skin of an animal.
The smell of rotten flesh permeated the air around them.
The ex-soldier had jumped back almost immediately and readied her pistol, aiming directly at the monster staring down at them. “What the fuck?! Where did you come from?!”
Hwalín tensed up, her hands resting on the pommel of her blades. The fur on her ears were standing on end and her fangs were bared in a threatening gesture.
“Derleth.” Qu'l-Nia called to him. The other two women turned to her in confusion. “It has been some time.”
The beast growled in what seemed like malice. A thickening glob of saliva trailed down from its decaying lips. Alma recoiled and cocked her gun.
"That is quite enough, Derleth. Even I am not so foolish as to think that all your time spent on this planet has rotted your mind to such a degree."
“You're as sharp as ever,” said the beast. His voice was low and guttural but sounded just human enough.
Alma kept her gun trained on the creature that was supposedly Derleth. In a single blink, the beast had taken the form of a man. Or something akin to one. He had somehow adjusted his height to a less freakish degree. Yet despite being much closer to the ground, his face was still that of a beast.
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“I’d been expecting you since the moment I felt your presence enter this universe,” continued Derleth. “I am always in-tune with this sphere's membrane, although I had temporarily lost you once you had touched ground on the planet. I knew you would come eventually.”
Alma averted her gaze as he spoke. Whenever he opened his beastly mouth, she would notice rows of teeth that seemed like they had no end. She wondered if anything that entered his mouth actually ever came out the other end.
“You have made quite a home for yourself,” noted Qu’l-Nia. “It is a shame it has taken me this long to finally come visit. I have been… quite busy.”
“I am aware of the toll this role takes on oneself. I do not hold any ill will. But come. The barrier is quite powerful here and I expect your mortal subordinates are looking for a place to warm themselves up.”
“Mortal hwha—?” Hwalín wore a bewildered expression. “We're partners, mate! Bloody Beryllands, we’re downright chums!”
“Relax, Hwal,” said Alma, putting her pistol away. She then stood at attention, saluting the eldritch man. “Ex-Private First Class Ranged Specialist Alma Mesial of the Malachian Crusaders, reporting for duty!” Alma then sighed and mumbled depressingly to herself, “All that work… All that studying…”
“I’m impressed, Dancer.” Derleth spoke while walking. “It seems you have found some loyal followers for your mission. Which I’m sure you’re all too keen to brief me on judging by your timely arrival. In truth, part of me doubted you would come. I did not consider myself a priority for you.” The eldritch man turned his bestial visage toward Qu’l-Nia, his silver eye slicing through the thick air like a laser beam. “I’m glad that little nagging doubt turned out to be unfounded.”
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After a few more minutes of walking, the group arrived at a clearing where sat an enormous tree right in the center. Alma craned her neck upward to try to gauge the height of it, but her analysis was halted thanks to the array of nebulous clouds above. The presence of such a thing was impossible, she thought. There was no way she could’ve missed something so huge stretching out of the forest just ahead of them. But there was no mistaking what was clear as day to her eyes. Eyes that have seen many more impossible, esoteric things.
“You… live here?” asked Alma. Her survival instincts revved themselves up. “How do you exist out here? What do you eat? You don’t need to keep warm apparently. How has no other living human discovered you out here? This is the stuff of legends here! Speaking of which, you really are just like how grandhag described you.”
“I am not aware of ever meeting with this Grandhag of which you speak. No human could possibly find this location unless I will it. The elfwin may have stories of me, but those are from a time long past. It is simple living now. I study the world from here while simultaneously keeping them at arm’s length. As for how I thrive, I hunt the animals that enter my domain and I eat them. Nothing more. Unless perhaps you’re interested in the mechanics of that…?”
Alma’s eyes lit up. “Actually—”
“Derleth,” interrupted Qu’l-Nia. “We have indeed come for an important reason and it was not to discuss your living habits. I do not care how you have been making your way out here, nor would I have come here if not for a desperate need of help.”
Hwalín had arrived with her hands resting on her pommels. A stance she often employed when preparing for a fight. Despite Qu’l-Nia’s relationship with him, there was a tingling feeling on the back of her neck warning her not to trust him. And often did she trust that gut feeling.
Alma noticed this and whispered to Hwalín. “What are you doing? We’ve wasted all this effort trying to get here. And now all of a sudden you think we’re here to start a fight?”
“Aye. I’m with Nia on this one. Reckon animals aren’t the only thing ol’ Derleth’s sunk his teeth into.” The Hecatian spoke loud enough to make sure Derleth could hear her. “We’re not here to make friendly. Especially considering all those legends you mentioned might actually be tru—”
Hwalín cut her sentence short as in another blink of an eye, the monstrous head of the eldritch man had been switched with that of a darkly pale and handsome stranger. He was a well-built, human-like stature that seemed both imposing and welcoming. Both women stared with mouth agape.
“Pardon my disrespect,” the handsome, eldritch stranger said. As if to further push the point across, the gnarled, silvery antlers sprouting from his head gleamed beautifully with a ghostly, glacial light that shone like a beacon amid the chill air. “I had assumed followers of the Dancer would be more accustomed to otherworldly sights. Mayhap this form would prove to be a bit more trustworthy?”
Hwalín gulped and leaned toward Alma, her voice trickled down to a whisper. “Now there’s a stranger I wouldn’t mind jumping, if you catch my drift.”
Alma audibly gagged in disgust.