Three days of footfalls after the centipedes’ mayhem and they finally reached the forest. Calm and quiet with the songs of birds and the ballads of insects still humming in the background, it was a world cut off from the rest of the colony. No one lived here, so the Astylinds faced no resistance. No battles, no damage, the place looked as serene as it had on any other day from the window of the tram.
“We’ll rest here for now,” Ewan said, searching for a place to camp, pushing the vines away with his Ryvia.
“Won't they chase us here?” Nana asked, looking around warily.
“They will,” Ewan said, stopping at a small clearing surrounded by the young trees that battled for sunlight. The old ones died during regular maintenance; the young were the only ones the forest retained. “Let’s rest till they do.”
“It’s already the fifth day. How long will they come after us?” she asked.
Ewan frowned. The fog in his mind had gotten thicker over the days, it had expanded and blocked his thoughts. Neither his logic, his rationality, nor his critical mind replied to him when it came to this matter. Why were the native Astylinds of Yurnawa targeting them so doggedly? He had the answer, but the cloudy fog hid it, he knew it did. He was getting lost, it made him hazy.
“I don’t know….,” he said, turning towards Nana. “You still have her out?”
“She doesn’t like it inside the rune,” Nana said, petting the wolf in her arms.
“An Astylind who doesn’t like it inside the rune, you’ve really spoiled her,” Ewan said, shaking his head, preparing to set up a temporary camp.
“It’s fine, she helps us when the time comes, that’s what matters,” she said, scrunching the wolf’s face and pouting at her. “And who will I spoil if not her? Xylla’s been with me the longest, she was the only one with me when mum and dad died.”
Ewan halted for a moment at her words when brushing the dead leaves away, then continued his work.
“Sure, whatever,” he said. “I don’t get how she didn’t grow up though, she’s still the same as I saw her years ago….” His voice dimmed as he went on, the last sentence shook the cloudy fog. Yet, it prevailed again and stopped him out. “Forget it. Cook something we can eat quickly. We won't stop here for long,” he said.
……
The delish aroma of Nana’s cooking attracted many animals, non-Astylinds, but they could only watch from a distance. Orange and Toast as the perimeter watch kept them away, though the two drooled more than they guarded.
“Is it ready?” Ewan asked, sitting cross-legged with his family’s journal spread open on his lap.
“Almost, have some patience,” Nana said, stirring the stew that was her own creation, a recipe she developed on this trip.
“My stomach’s already growling….,” he mumbled, attending to the book again.
The fog impeded his critical thinking, and he wanted to know what it was, needed to know. It had almost muted his bestial instinct too, and that gave Ewan an orange alert. Was it an external source? But who or what? They hadn't met anyone new on their journey or hadn't found anything special. Were they under attack? Or was it all his illusion? He’d long started doubting his own skepticism. But if nothing was wrong, then why were the Yurnawa Astylinds coming after them one after another? The lack of an answer and his dampened instincts kept his apprehension alive.
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His journal lacked an index, so he went part by part, skimming. Most contents jumped over his head, but some stuck. And finally, he reached the part that explained the phenomenon he was experiencing.
“Suggestion….” He squinted and read.
Xylla howled at him and bit his cargo, struggling to drag him—it distracted him from the book.
“She’s hungry too, let’s eat now, it’s done,” Nana said, preparing a bowl for each.
“Two minutes,” Ewan said and went back to reading. Yet, all the words were blurry now. He frowned and rubbed his eyes, but the contents were still fuzzy.
The book’s too old…
But what did he read just now? His memory pulled a blank. He massaged his temples, yet nothing came to him.
“It’ll get cold,” Nana said.
“Fine.” He kept the book in his claw-ring and joined them for supper, throwing the matter to the back of his mind.
……
Sun set early in the forest, and the moonlight strived to bypass the tree crowns.
“It’s time,” Ewan said. “Let’s move.”
They packed, they cleaned, and they marched ahead in the semi-dark forest, the flickers of the moonlight through the foliage guiding their path.
Ewan kept one step ahead, Nana followed him with Xylla in her arms.
“What will attack this time….,” she uttered under her breath.
“Just hope it’s not the giant, others I can handle somehow.”
“Giant?” She tilted her head. “That head-something one?” she asked, lifting her brows.
“Headless Giant,” Ewan said. “We can only try to run and survive if that guy comes. I can't beat it, even with Frost and Orange.”
“I only remember bits from what Mr. Baryt taught us,” she said. “Is it dangerous?”
“Depends on its level,” Ewan said. “If it’s even one level higher than us, we’ll have to run. It’s too destructive.”
“What if it pops out just when we’re talking about it?” she asked with a giggle. The rest and supper must’ve eased her nerves. It was better this way, so Ewan let her be. Her stress wouldn’t be of use anyway. If some harmless babbles relaxed her and let her move in battles, he would be glad to participate.
The ground ahead fizzled and bubbled, Ewan killed his steps amidst his thoughts and yanked Nana back, squinting at the sizzling patch turning black.
“You and your fucking mouth….,” he muttered. At the end of the next second, a charcoal-skinned giant that almost blended with the night latched onto the edge of the ground, and the forest shuddered with its erupting roar.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [4th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.5
Spirit: 7.8
Anima: [Fire – 7.8 | Ice – 7.8 | Blood – 7.8]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [4th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-4] [Grade-C]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-5] [Grade-B]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-4] [Grade-C]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 111
Crelith: 4984