The small, furry animal sat atop a small boulder, nibbling on his berry. He was a Root Gopher, for he had no true name, though the strange creature kept referring to him as “Mr. Gopher.” He hadn’t the slightest clue what that meant, but he was a smart Gopher and could recognize a title of respect.
The silence of his meal was broken as something approached from the distance. A large, metallic blur sped toward him, followed by three smaller blurs. The sound grew louder, peaking as they pasted by.
//aaaaaaaahhhhhhhAAAAAA—//
Then faded back into blissful silence as they receded into the distance.
//—AHHHHHHaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!//
Mr. Gopher reached for another berry, only to find it had been the last one. Heartbroken, he stood and dusted his fur. All good things must end, it seemed. Such was the way of the world; oh well. He sighed as he looked off into the distance, as a large dot grew larger still. Predictable as the sunset, the strange creature returned, still screaming.
//aaaaaaaahhhhhhhAAAAAHH—//
Mr. Gopher wasn’t sure his new companion ever stopped making sounds; at least she — for the Spirit Energy told him thus, as it did many things — had not stopped since their journey began. He was certain they were so-called ‘words,’ but their meaning was lost to him. After all, what need had he of ‘words‘? But he was a wise gopher and was certain they would come to him in time.
For now…
Mr. Gopher’s eyes narrowed, and with a little flex of Spirit Energy, a pebble flew from the boulder’s surface and into the path of the strange creature as she flew by. His companion hit the pebble at speed, causing her to suddenly stop, shortly followed by three light thuds as her pursuers impacted her hard shell. The three small Stone Sparrows slid from the smooth surface in bloody heaps and fell to the ground, unmoving.
Of course, the metal creature was unharmed by either the pebble or the minor spirit beasts slamming into her. Just as it had been the last… Mr. Gopher quickly counted off on his paws… six times this similar event had happened. His companion in question spun in place, seemingly unsure what had happened or what to do next, endlessly babbling its non-sense words.
//Who?! what?! Why?!//
She turned to him and, as if only now seeing him, cried out, her stubby arms reaching for him.
//Mrrrr. Gooppheeer! Wwwaaaahhh!!//
The Root Gopher only sighed and dropped into the boulder to dodge, slipping into it as if it were loose soil. The earth in this area was… harder to manipulate than in his home, but he could still manage; after all, he was a talented gopher.
His companion missed, flying past as Mr. Gopher walked out of the bottom of the boulder. As she turned to look at him, he pointed toward the fallen forms of the birds and started chittering loudly. The metal creature only hovered there, wringing her paws.
//B… but I can’t! That goes—//
Mr. Gopher chittered louder and even flicked a small pebbled into the creature’s ‘head.’ He assumed it was her head; that’s where the endless noise came from, at least. The pebble clinked off the metal surface, sending her careening around. He might not have understood the words, but he recognized an excuse when he heard one!
Mr. Gopher knew she would be unharmed, though, for as little intelligence as she seemed to have, his metal companion was durable. He had to admit that he’d been worried when they’d first approached the mountain and been assaulted by the Galefeather Couatl.
Worried for his new companion, that was. He was fine, of course; after all, he was a brave gopher. He had hidden behind her tough metal plating for… comfort. Right, that. Though his worries had been unfounded; the couatl had been utterly ineffective against her armor. Its slicing wind blades blew past like harmless wind. Its crushing coils were only a gentle hug. Even its sharp fangs had broken against her metal surface.
Of course, his companion hadn’t stopped panicking and screaming the entire time. Mr. Gopher was still unsure if it was the shame of defeat or the pain in its ears that had finally chased the feathered serpent off. Though if Mr. Gopher was honest, he wouldn’t have judged the creature for either. Still, as far as companions went, she wasn’t terrible. She had her uses, at least.
Finished reprimanding his companion, Mr. Gopher sighed and walked toward the fallen corpses of the Stone Sparrows. The Spirit Energy told him the bodies were valuable, but he didn’t quite know how. It wasn’t like he was going to eat them. He preferred the savory roots and juicy fruit of the earth’s bounty to the flesh of other beasts. Not that he’d turn down the odd core if he got the chance; he wasn’t a fool. However, these birds were far too young and weak to have such a thing in their hearts. Unfortunate.
Still, he’d long ago learned to listen to the Spirit Energy. It had always guided him to the best roots and most flavorful grasses or spirit plants. It had even told him where to build his kingdom! And what a kingdom it had been! Dozens of tunnels and chambers spread out over several miles in one of the best spots within all the prairies! Well, as far as he’d ever traveled, at least.
Or it was, until the sky broke, and the giant metal beast fell directly on top of his pantry! Years of work, toil, sweat and struggle were destroyed instantly. And did he even get an apology?! NO! In fact, he’d been ignored! Treated as inconsequential! He may have been a magnanimous gopher, but even he had his limits!
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
But despite Mr. Gopher’s harassment, the beast had never stepped up to his challenge. It was… infuriating. The strange, ringing attack had been the final straw, though, and Mr. Gopher had to admit, he… may have overreacted a bit. He might have been a top-tier gopher, but that didn’t mean he was immune to moments of weakness.
Mr. Gopher had regretted his rashness and, in his generosity, decided he would be the bigger being. He would protect the metal giant’s child until they could be reunited. That it would bring him closer to… settling their dispute… Well, that was semantics.
A wicked grin spread across his face at the thought, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Mr. Gopher waved over his metal companion and pointed toward the bodied. His companion floated over and stared at the corpses. She paused, then turned to him, asking.
//Really?! Again?!//
He didn’t bother responding to the nonsensical words and just continued to point.
His companion drooped but floated to the corpses. One by one, she lifted them and stuffed them into the magic space inside her shell. He wasn’t sure how it worked, but who was he to complain about such a thing? It wasn’t like he was going to carry all their loot.
The grisly job done, Mr. Gopher and his new companion turned down the mountain pass and headed toward the next spot the Spirit Energy was telling him about.
—————————————————————
“Oww oww owwwww! Hey! Be gentle!” Jack complained as Jill dabbed at the large gash on his head with the salve applicator.
Jill only narrowed her eyes and pinched his arm before dabbing more of the healing medicine on the frankly serious head would.
Her older — by 5 minutes! — brother had always been like this. He’d gladly climb a thorn-covered tree or razor-sharp cliff, reaching mindlessly for some shiny new object he’d spotted. But wince and complain the entire time she was treating him for the inevitable injuries he sustained. Sometimes she couldn’t tell if he was the bravest man she knew… or the stupidest.
Her money was on the latter. Not that she’d ever tell him about that betting pool back at the Guild, of course.
She used her large, fluffy tail as a makeshift table to hold the supplies. The Irontail Squirrel tribe, while a fully Awakened Spirit Beast tribe like any other, always kept their tail while in human form. Many Awakened Spirit Beasts had some sign of their heritage, but few were as noticeable and iconic as the Irontail Squirrel tribe’s tail. It had often been used to justify their discrimination.
After all, as an Awakened Spirit Beast grew older and stronger, so did their control over their bloodline. By their age and cultivation, most bestial traits could be hidden in favor of a more human-like appearance. Unhidden traits were often seen as signs of a young or weak tribe.
Never mind that some tribes with powerful Progenitors, whose bloodline weren’t so easily controlled, such as the Ashdales or the Dragonkin, had far more difficultly doing so as well. The difference was those tribes actually had the power and influence to silence any naysayers. As for the Irontail Squirrels, though they were one of the ‘old’ families, they had long since fallen out of grace and power.
Still, she couldn’t help but mirror his smile as Jack stared down at the glowing white acorn in his hand. It was an [Fourth-Circle] Alabaster Oak seed. Not quite the treasure they’d come to the mountains to find, but it was a close second. As a [Fourth-Circle] Wood Mage, Jack had a strong affinity for trees and woody plants. If he could successfully cultivate this one, it would go a long way toward paying off their tribe’s debts.
A rare variety of Stone Oak that only appeared when an old tree was stuck by powerful lightning, Alabaster Oak was prized both for its durability and its Spirit and Mana conductivity. Even the pure white leaves, once properly dried and prepared, could be turned into array knives aligned to wood and lightning; a rare and powerful combination highly sought after by hunters and adventurers alike.
Her fool of a brother had rushed to collect a sample as soon as he understood what they’d stumbled upon. The tree’s guardian, a peak-level [Iron Body] Thunderous Cloud Goat, hadn’t been so excited. Being [Fifth-Circle], Jack was technically more powerful, but mages weren’t as bodily powerful as cultivators. No amount of magical prowess protected you from a surprise sonic bleat to the face while clinging to the side of a cliff. Not at their level, at least.
Jill had caught him, but somehow, he still smacked his head against the cliff face during the tumble. His cheeky grin as he held up the acorn almost made her throw him back to the goat, but she decided against it, and they quickly escaped.
Jill silently pressed her lips and turned away as she finished treating her brother and packed away the first aid kit. She spoke with her back to Jack, her voice quiet.
“Hey… Jack… I… this place is a lot more dangerous than they told us at the Guild. The Alabaster Oak is enough, lets… let’s head back.”
Jack stood, his eyes wide as he responded.
“What?! No! Jill, we didn’t come out here for me. We came for you! We’re so close! You’re so close! If we can find the spri—”
Jill whirled around, tears threatening to spill over.
“You almost DIED, Jack! Don’t pretend like you didn’t! What does it matter if I reach [Golden Spirit] if I lose you in the process?! If that Spirit Beast had been a bit stronger, if your [Mana Shield] had failed, if I’d been just a bit slower, wha—”
It was Jack’s turn to cut her off; he grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward him.
“But it wasn’t! It didn’t, and you weren’t! I’m fine, Jill. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. Jill, this isn’t our first mission; we’re not some green-in-the-gills rookies. You and I, we’ve done this before; we can do it again. As long as we reach the [Pure Waters] spring, we can heal your deviation, and you can break through to [Golden Spirit].”
He pulled her into a deep hug and laughed.
“Can you imagine that, Jill! [Golden Spirit]! The first in three generations! Let’s see those bastards mock the Squirrel tribe, then!”
He pulled out of the hug and wiped away the silent tears from her cheek. He grinned from ear to ear as he continued.
“And that’s just the beginning! You’ll go down in history! I know you will. I believe in you, Jill. You can do this!”
Jill could only stand there and stare at her older brother, her face furrowing with myriad emotions as tears trickled down and her mouth moved wordlessly. After a long moment, she took a deep breath and stood straight; her face set into grim determination. When she spoke, her voice was raw but strong.
“Right. Let’s do this, Jack.”
She turned and made her way deeper into the mountain pass. After a few steps, she stopped and spoke once more, almost in a whisper.
“… Thanks, Jack…”
Jack only chuckled and shook his head, smiling brightly, before following her around the bend.
… and smacking square into her back.
Jack sputtered, but righted himself and turned to look at his sister. Why had she stopped so suddenly?
His brow furrowed as his sister stared off into the distance, mouth agape and eyes wide. Turning in the direction she was looking, Jack’s expression soon mirrored her own.
Bounding in their direction, from the opposite side of the pass, was a large, flying metal… box?
A large flying metal box with a small furry Root Gopher on top.
A large flying metal box with a small furry Root Gopher on top, being chased by a very large, very angry, mud-covered Crag Tiger.
As one, they turned, then Jack and Jill ran down the hill and fled from the approaching slaughter.
Little did they know; one can’t outrun destiny for long.