As the morning rays crept over the tall mountains, Logan drew a lungful of the cool, humid morning air. Spring was coming to Cradle - a time that had always lightened his mood after the lengthy, dark winters. From the dirt road leading down into the lowlands, he saw the many glistening creeks spew out white mists to cloud the morning air. The tall pine trees glistened with the morning dew as, in the distance, the town of Clement appeared into view.
Like so many other towns in Cradle, it had been surrounded by a tall granite-chunk wall that had stood for thousands of years as a barrier to keep the nightmares at bay - nightmares that were, now, mostly eradicated. Or at least that was the narrative - the official narrative, as far as the Populace were concerned. The party dredging along the road were wiser - fully aware that the crimson hordes were far numerous than the officials would have one believe. That was the reason they had moved north to begin with, after all - to find support to join their battle against the natural predator of Man.
Logan could see it every time he blinked, that vast cavern of space beneath the distant ruins of a town by the name of Cadia, where a Monstrum of unknown biology had absorbed a population of some-fifty thousand in the span of days. Likewise, his companions struggled with memories of their own and the horrors that had taken place that recent day.
Logan was thankful for his new companions, as he now had ample entertainment to keep his mind from devolving into that dark pattern of thought - a simple glance over his party would certainly keep him preoccupied for as long as their journey took.
He, himself, sat atop the fiery red field-setter Zeke. The setter’s head was high and proud as he guided his fellows back towards Clement and threw glances at his canine companions to verify that none of them were trying to take his place at the forefront of the party. Shortly behind Zeke, Pupper - Luna’s white sighthound kept her comically long snout trained on Logan as her rider scratched the back of her long, floppy ear.
Lastly, on the left flank, Jarek and his adoptive black-and-yellow Bullhound were eyeing the periphery with similar caution - as if the Monstrum were hiding behind any and all rocks on either side of the road.
Behind them, things were far less orderly. For whatever reason, Abraham and Mara had both chosen to attempt to court the gray Mountainhound - a monstrously large beast of a breed once used to hunt Monstrum by itself. Abraham had named him Bear - a befitting name for his stature alone, but he also had a temper to match the mind-trickster’s old Master, but… Logan honestly couldn’t see it. He’d been surprised to see Bear in Longmire - lolling around on the mires on his lonesome while digging in the mires to find rodents for food. He’d heard of the breed and had expected a great deal from it, but the stubborn bastard was as lazy as he was distant - a profound thinker, rather than a hound meant for combat.
The great oaf’s wrinkled face threw strands of drool about as Mara and Abraham struggled for the reins atop his back, scuffling and pushing as if they were the closest of siblings - an oddity, as Logan imagined the boy’d be more than eager to make his move on the aggressive woman. Thankfully, there seemed to be little between them in the form of romance or wants, but after listening to their constant bickering for the better part of a month, Logan was nearing his limits when it pertained to how much more he could tolerate from the two.
Before he could turn and raise his gun in a threat at the pair scuffling atop the massive hound, he heard a melodious, disgruntled voice from his right flank. “So… boss…” He hung his head as he noted the fury in Luna’s voice. He sighed and prepared himself for a yelling as he clarified: “It’s all part of the training… nothing personal…” To his surprise, she sounded an aggressive ‘mhm’ rather than tearing him a new one.
“Right. Speaking of training… when are you gonna start listening to my training?” Ah, he knew what this was all about now - he shouldn’t have let his guard down in the first place. He grunted in disagreement, but kept his mouth still to listen as she went on: “It hurts to hear it, you know… it’s like listening to a baby cry. Doesn’t it bother you at all?”
This was, of course, referring to his stranglehold on the symbiote. He shook his head, grunted another grumble of disapproval before answering: “We’ve all got our own styles in fighting…” She rose to a straight seat and crossed her arms. “Why won’t you talk to me about the symbiote, Logan? I tell you everything, but you keep holding back whenever we talk about it. You always have…” There was a tangible hurt in her voice, but it was one he knew he could do little to whisk away. He simply didn’t have the means to comply with her request.
“Logan…” Jarek spoke from his left - ever the savior. Logan met Luna’s pained frown with a sideways smirk and braved: “Tonight, all right? Just the two of us - starry skies, dinner and talk.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Their years apart might’ve never even taken place for all they’d changed. He knew she’d smile, that the left corner of her mouth would twitch into a smile and that she’d nod before turning away to grin - she always did whenever they made plans to check out from the cold reality of the world. And they were long overdue for a checkout.
“Promise?”
“I swear.”
Jarek had been surprised to hear the psychic hail from somewhere inside Clement’s walls - a young woman’s voice speaking the name of Commander Behemoth-Bane. It had been his first hail in years and served to remind him that he had come a long ways from his de facto retirement in Cadia. On the battle-field, he’d usually receive reports from the front through whispered messages on the wind and, though they were more or less never expected, they’d been diffuse - he daresay even comfortable to listen to… but this voice - this horrendously cold, whispering, slithering thing that had crawled up along his spine to chill him to the core - this was something entirely different from anything he’d ever heard before.
It was as if the girl had been leaning on his shoulders and through one corner of her mouth spoken blasphemous, horrendous truths of the aether while calling for Logan with the other. Even after he had heard her, he still felt as if whoever had sent the message could still see him, smell him - perhaps even kill him, he certainly wouldn’t put it past one of Logan’s friends.
As with most cities and towns around Cradle, the wooden, reinforced gate stood open - more like a relic of a recent past where they’d once kept the ample Monstrum away from the delicious populace. Clement hadn’t suffered the tooth of time like Anza had - the grounds outside were too fertile and the stream running under the walls had kept them from devolving into the hunger that had ended so many other communities in Cradle.
Luna was in awe as Pupper led her up the cobbled road and passed the many, tall wooden buildings. She was still not accustomed to seeing wood- let alone housing constructed from wood and seeing them stacked so tall atop one-another made her jaw drop ever-so-slightly with awe. Varnish and paint colored the pine and oak into a palette she hadn’t come to expect from the wood - not after what she’d stayed at in Longmire, where everything seemed to be in a permanent state of decay.
Further surprising the Logoruum, the roads led up on great ramps to better serve the buildings on higher levels by leading into entranceways and storehouses - some of which filled the air with a mouth-watering scent of sweet pastries and something unmistakably refreshing… fruity, even - something she’d never tasted nor heard of.
They watched as the piss-soaked stable-hands led their hounds away, into their evening’s hovels. Zeke and Bear were obviously hungry and tired from their lengthy journey into the nearby mountains, but Pupper - loyal and bonded as she was, seemed intent not to let Luna out of her sight and stubbornly sat down to stare her wide, black eyes at her companion.
“C’mon, girl, just go lay down for a bit. You’ll get some food and I’m sure they’ll give you a good brushing.” Luna whispered into the tall dog’s long ear. A huff of protest followed as the hound raised her eyebrows in a worried gaze at the Logoruum.
“Don’t worry, Pupper, I’ll keep her safe from here. You keep an eye on Zeke for me, all right?” Logan chimed in from the side and pointed to the dredging red hound. Pupper and Logan shared a look of understanding before finally, the girl departed after the others.
“You’ve gotten close.” The Ghast chuckled as he cracked his neck back and forth. Luna had always hated when he did that, but she enjoyed hearing him so mild-mannered so briefly after their intense exchange. “Best damn friend a girl could wish for. I just wish we could run a bit more, you know? We both love the speed, but…” Logan joined Luna in staring at the lollygagging Bear, his wrinkled face covered in long strands of drool at the smell of the slop inside the stable.
Logan chuckled and took a step closer to whisper: “I’m not used to it, either. Been on our own for so long that we’ve gotten weird. Let’s go for a run tonight - just the four of us, then.” She liked the sound of that and signaled her enjoyment of the suggestion by clapping a hand over the Ghast’s ass, widening the eyes of the poor stable-hands ever further.
They assembled in the central courtyard in a semicircle under the watchful eyes of the many merchants at the stalls strewn about. From the gate, the dirt path disappeared beneath unending roads of twisting streets of cobbled granite squares - another strange, yet beautiful tradition Luna was finding some appreciation for. She stared up one of the streets, silently questioning the swinging signs hung over the houses’ doors and found herself giddy with the prospect of exploring the town, even if it meant lugging one or more of her companions around and suffering the complaints of Abraham or Mara.
“Jarek, what was the name of the place you heard?” Logan questioned the rotund, sweaty man, whose eyes were quick to return from scanning the city. His gray eyes looked at the mask and with a bob of his head, he went on to explain: “I’m pretty sure she said ‘The Waterfront’. Not sure if that relates to the stream or any tavern or anything… ring a bell?” Logan nodded.
“I know the place. I’d like you to come with me… as for the rest of you, could you find us some rooms? Preferably something with some food.” Abraham spun back around from his awed gawking at the town and raised a thumb in the direction of the Ghast.
“I’m on it… I think. Uhm, Logan, we don’t really have any money…”
Logan snapped the air with his gloved hand. “Oh, right. Luna -” He reached into his coat to produce a large, black purse and a mask similar to his own before extending them to his beloved apprentice. She grabbed them and eyed the objects with curiosity as Logan went on: “That should cover it. And put the mask on - no one’s gonna ask questions about the weapons if you wear it.” Luna held the mask in her hands and stared down at the porcelain face. She’d never held one that hadn’t freshly come off his face and found it disturbingly cold with its thin slits for eyes and the fierce, bestial mouth of teeth.
“L-Loggie… can I have a mask, too? I don’t want anyone to take my rifle…” Mara scratched the stones at her feet with the tip of her black boot, but her best seductive methods did little to convince Logan, whose response came in the form of a laugh.
“No. Just stay close to Luna and no one’s gonna say a word... hopefully.”