Prologue Chapter 2
The muggy heat was physically painful as Viilor and I trudged through the jungle to the location of the den’s entrance. We’d long since donned our beralts, and since their entire purpose was to retain and mask all body heat, scent, and recognizability, they didn’t breathe well. Fighting to keep myself from scratching everywhere, I turned to Viilor and was frustrated to see no visible signs of discomfort. Not that there was much to see anyways…
“How do you keep yourself sane when it’s so hot and sweaty?”
“Easy solution.”
I paused and waited for a response. No such answer came my way as Viilor remained silent and stepped into the lead. “What’s the ‘easy solution’? You’re killing me.”
“I shut up and deal with it.” I could hear the grin below the mask as Viilor continued to deliberately push through the brush towards the den. Little bastard… I felt the rueful grin spread across my own face as I picked up the pace and, holding myself back from smacking the back of his head, resumed the lead. It had been hard enough to convince my mother to allow Viilor to be my second instead of a seasoned member of the tribe, so it wouldn’t do for me to assault him and end up getting noticed by the keelish because I couldn’t hold myself back.
“So, second,” I whispered, gently shouldering my friend as I spoke up, “Have you noticed any signs of the den? Or any of the signs left by the initial scouts?”
“Yes.” Viilor settled into a serious tone, his shoulders squared. He’d long been trying to get opportunities for leadership, and it was obvious he wasn’t going to mess this up. “We’re just under a quarter of a mile away from the primary entrance, so I suggest going silent from here on out. No recent keelish sign, but plenty of evidence of their passage.”
“Thank you. Going silent from now until our return to this point, or further. Hand signals only.” I signaled for me to resume the lead and waited until Viilor flashed the affirmative sign back, then began the final approach to the den.
All around us, the forest seemed to close in with the enforced silence. The trees, almost all burlraizes with huge knotted roots spreading around above the ground before slowly descending under the soil, choked the light before it could reach the ground. All around us, the thick undergrowth had to be carefully traversed so as not to rustle loudly if not sticking to the existing game trails. Above, occasionally the suns could be seen, the four lesser orbiting Arck, the great and primary. Going off the positioning of the red sun around the main sun, it had been an hour and a half since we’d left the camp the rest of the tribe had set up. Near midday. The best time to attack a keelish den.
The lizardlike reptiles were crepuscular, so either midnight or midday were the optimal times to attack, but at night, their specialized vision was superior to our own, so midday it was. Generally, unremarkable specimens like the ones we had been assured this den was entirely made up of were only 1m tall with protruding jaws and sharp claws on their feet and hands. There were occasionally unique individuals in a den, and those typically led to a swarm developing. These noteworthy specimens were, in order of increasing danger, increased size, increased intelligence, and magical capabilities. Usually, it was almost like a scale of progress, that if there were magically capable individuals in a swarm, so too would there be greater intelligence and increased physical prowess.
Thus, the Veushten people as a whole and the Viertaali tribe specifically ensured that any den of keelish found was swiftly exterminated, so as to prevent their gradual evolution to a true threat. There were some folktales about the heights to which the keelish could potentially grow, but I wasn’t sure that such stories were anything more than speculative.
I caught myself getting distracted, and instead set to verifying the contents of my satchel as I continued to lead the way to the den. The most important of my charges was the brace of vials filled with firmly distilled alcohol, stoppered and carefully placed where I could reach easily. There was no food, so nothing the keelish could smell, but my water bladder hung behind me, tight to the base of my spine. My sling and ammunition were handy, in case there was something I could do as a ranged distraction, and my knife was strapped to my left hip. Packed light, but ready. I refocused on the hike that remained before me.
Before I could further think about it, ahead of us opened a clearing through the thick tree cover. In the center was an inconspicuous mound of dirt and smaller stones, an unvegetated hill of maybe 1m in height and 4m across. It was time for me to begin the ritual inaugural hunt, so I checked my beralt. Nothing showing. I turned to Viilor, giving an OK signal. He stepped forward, checking me. He had brought his bow, the quiver of arrows quietly rattling as he looked everywhere. Before I pulled away, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear it, he whispered, “I’m sorry Ash.”
“Going silent. See you in a minute.” I grinned, elbowed my friend, and walked towards the den’s entrance. Viilor was always saying stuff like this when he couldn’t help me with something I needed to do alone. I’d be right back and teasing him the whole way to the camp where we’d reunite with the rest of the extermination force.
Continuing my careful stalking, I slowly, under my breath, began a Flame Calling while making sure not to make any noise with my steps. Keelish vision was built for dim and dark light, but they could still hear pretty well, even if I was in my beralt.
I could feel the Calling begin to swell within me as I readied two vials of nearly pure alcohol, one in each hand. I fed my passion, my desire to succeed, to become chief, to make my mother proud, into the Calling, and I could feel my body grow warm… ten more steps… eight… five… I stumbled as something thudded into my back. Then, searing pain. I whipped my head back, afraid I’d missed a keelish but…
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Looking back, I could see Viilor lowering his bow. It took everything in me to not scream at him and draw all nearby keelish to me. The blind bastard had shot me! But… where was he aiming??
I whirled, looking for the keelish he must have been trying to protect me from, but there was nothing. No keelish, no wolfstags, nothing. Looking back, Viilor had lowered the mask of his beralt, tears streaming down his face as we met eyes through my own mask.
“I’m sorry Ash. So sorry. Some things… are just beyond our control.” Then, Viilor raised a horn to his lips and blew as he retreated back into the cover of the nearby vegetation..
The echoes of the booming horn hadn’t faded before I began to feel the ground below me begin to shiver with the tromping feet of numerous creatures. Keelish, that would be able to smell my blood.
Realizing my only chance for survival, I shoved the betrayal, the rage, the confusion in me into my Calling as I threw both vials into the mouth of the den and completed the Phrase. With a choking roar, the gout of flames rushed into existence in front of me before shooting towards the gaping maw of the den. The meeting of red fire and pure alcohol exploded into pale blue flame then blasted me and several keelish back from the den. I began stumbling away, panic, fear, and exultation raging within me…
Even without looking, I knew that there wasn’t much hope. Flaming, burning keelish set upon me, their screeches filling the air. The reptiles clambered over each other, not caring for the faintly shimmering flames filling the surroundings, only fighting to begin the feast. Shrieking babbles were drowned out as my own screams and cries filled the air. I could feel teeth dig into me, one, two, countless mouths fighting for another bite. I wasn’t afforded the oblivion of death as more and more set on me, my legs, back, and sides being ripped mercilessly apart while I wept and screamed.
I tore my eyes from the scene of my own dismemberment just long enough to look and see Viilor begin to walk away. I began to scream his name before another keelish arrived and, with one enthusiastic bite, consigned me to oblivion.
Nothingness.
Pure... nothing.
Just... myself.
Oblivion.
Oblivion?
No. There wasn’t nothing. There was complete confusion. What had possessed Viilor to do that? Why would my best friend do that to me? Why would he have followed me around for all of both of our lives… Always helping me… supporting me…
Replacing me.
Bit by bit, step by step, overwhelming the confusion, there was rage. I couldn't say how long it had taken, how my mind had changed, but now... Boiling, frothing, all-consuming rage. Unable to speak, to scream, to move, to do ANYTHING except broil in my own hatred and fury. A part of me felt my sense of self slipping, the only remaining emotion hatred for my friend, my brother, my betrayer.
Kill him like he killed me. Stab him in the back, leave him to suffer like me, to bleed, to cry, to mourn, to weep.
Kill him.
Kill him.
KILL HIM.
KILL HIM.
KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM–
[Rebirth as [System] user for Race: Keelish initiated.]
MUST KILL VIILOR
[[System] user default Skill Evolutionary Path Foresight granted.]
[Bloodlust Skill acquired]
[Default Keelish subrace Bloodseeker selected.]
A… keelish?
[Time until birth: 00:00:59]
A… predator…
[Time until birth: 00:00:47]
A… killer…
[Time until birth: 00:00:40]
My mind… is slipping…
[Time until birth: 00:00:30]
Hungry
[Time until birth: 00:00:23]
Tight here.
[Time until birth: 00:00:15]
Want out.
[Time until birth: 00:00:11]
WANT OUT.
[Time until birth: 00:00:07]
LET ME OUT!
[Time until birth: 00:00:02]
Snarling, I pushed my snout out of my egg and tried to jump out and begin my hunt of the one called Viilor. I couldn’t remember him, just betrayal. But first… my legs failed me. I tried to run, to find, to hunt, but I couldn’t move my legs. A mewling screech left my mouth as I tried and struggled to stand. All around me, more of my fellow hatchlings crawled and screamed, sounds I understood to mean “hungry” and “help”.
I forced myself to blink hard, trying to understand, to clear my foggy mind. I.. am Ashlani. Right? I… was not keelish. And… I needed to kill this Viilor. The strangeness of the [System] notifications stuck with me, the strange things I could see in the corner of my eye.
[Reincarnation as Juvenile Keelish Bloodseeker complete.]
[Would you like to view your evolutionary options?]
----------------------
[Viilor POV]
With a shudder, Viilor swiped at his eyes to clear the tears. Behind him, mercifully, Ash had stopped his screams and sobs. Figuring it was the least he could do for his old friend, the brother he had literally stabbed in the back, he looked back and watched the end. The keelish, what looked to be at least ten of them, were setting into the corpses of their fellows and Ashlani alike.
Since Ash was definitely dead at this point, Viilor steadily finished his Earthcalling and stone and soil flowed up his legs until it covered his body in its entirety. Once covered, he rushed out and began smashing keelish skulls into the ground. It was easy with only this many of the vermin, their jaws couldn’t find purchase on his armor, and with the added weight and strength of the earth… it was just a gruesome chore to continuously cave in their skulls.
His first step complete, Viilor checked Ash’s body to make sure that the arrow wound was completely unrecognizable, which wasn’t a worry, considering so little flesh remained. Looking down at his true friend’s mangled face, Viilor couldn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes, but, with a force of effort, kept them from falling and instead braced himself for the journey home as he lifted up Ash’s body. It would be a difficult hike back to the camp, but he could consider this penance for his betrayal.
Finally, Viilor allowed himself to glance at the flashing confirmation of a [Quest]’s completion. He hadn’t been lying, some things did need doing, no matter how heartbreaking they could be.