Alex stayed hidden for close to an hour before he felt safe again. It had been thirty minutes since he had last seen the drake, but he didn’t want to take any chances. That was the strongest enemy he had ever encountered, and not by a little. It was like he had been the biggest kid on the playground and then suddenly, he was moved up into high school. No college. He was so far out of his depth, he couldn’t even comprehend the difference in power.
He is weak. We are strong. He surprised me. Had he not hid away like a coward, and joined the fight from the beginning, I would have destroyed him like all the others, a voice said in Alex’s mind.
“So you think you can just have free range of my mind? You’ve made my life infinitely more difficult now,” Alex said out loud.
A hiss sounded in Alex’s brain that made his eyes twitch and the hair on his ears stick up. He waited a few moments for the man in his head to continue, but all that followed was silence.
“Well that’s great. Just peachy. You talk when you want to. You take control of my body when you want to. Just awesome,” Alex muttered to himself, rubbing his head from his crash into the rocks earlier.
Alex wasn’t sure, but he guessed the voice had to be Nagaar. It’s the only thing that made sense. Well, it didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t think of anyone else it could be. Alex assumed that somehow the king had made a connection to the Eonsteel, and that he lived on with this connection. The only thing Alex did know was that he did not like the king. He had complicated his already stupidly complicated life.
“Well, I didn’t want to talk to you anyway. You stupid reptile,” Alex said shaking his fist in the air in indignation.
Alex did wonder a little about what he had said. He had said we are strong and that the level 78 Sand Drake was weak. There was no way that could only be the king’s pride speaking, right? There had to be some part of that the king believed. Was it true? The king did have the upper hand when it came to the tools at his disposal. Those war machines were tailored for the genocide of the Sand Drakes, not to mention the sheer size of Nagaar’s army. Yet, none of those advantages mattered when the Great One appeared. Was the difference in level really that vast? What level had the king been when he had died?
Another question entered Alex’s mind. He knew why he had levels. The Forge had selected him, along with many others, and had awakened power in him. The Sand Drake hadn’t been awakened. It was not a part of the Forge’s sphere of influence. Why would it have a level at all? Wouldn’t it just be strong? The king likely wouldn’t have a level either, in fact, none of his enemies thus far, barring David and his group, should have levels. Was that just the way the Forge helped awakened determine relative strength. Alex knew that he could handle fighting most of the Zotari as they were roughly his level. He knew that he didn’t stand a chance against the Great One as its level was more than five times his. He imagined that it wasn’t too far fetched that the Sand Drake was at least five times stronger than him, not even counting other advantages it likely had.
There was no way to be sure, but Alex felt he was close to the truth at least. The Forge was training him and investing in him. It would make sense that it would have a way for him to determine the risk of engaging certain enemies.
Also, the king had we are strong. What did that mean for Alex? Were they somehow linked now? Was there any way to remove that connection? Alex did not want to have a parasite the likes of King Nagaar, tagging along for the rest of his life. That was bound to cause all kinds of issues. Currently, he was only bound within the confines of his mind, well, aside from the small matter of his brief possession. Nagaar’s influence in the world was, at least, partially limited, but would that always be the case. Alex didn’t know, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like painting a mural on the cliff side with his lunch.
All Alex wanted right now, was a distraction. Luckily, he had a suicide mission to attend to. If he survived, he needed to negotiate better terms with Krizzik somehow. He felt bad. Alex hadn’t wanted to alienate himself from the aliens, but it hadn’t been entirely his fault. How could he have known that the Eonsteel would have down that to him?
He paused for a second before hitting his forehead so hard, he popped his neck from the impact. He had to shake his head a few times and stretch his neck before he could even refocus on what he had been thinking about.
I really am an idiot. I could’ve just identified the stupid item. The Forge would’ve given me at least some indication of the effects of the Eonsteel.
He attempted to identify it now, but as it had already integrated with his armor, it no longer counted as a separate item. The only thing that came up was his armor’s description. Shaking his head at his absolute lack of intelligence, he continued forward towards the supply cache. The scouts had made him a rather cryptic map. He followed it as best he could, but the entire journey he questioned if he was actually following the right path.
They probably made a fake map that leads me to the Great One’s den or something. That would be a quick way to kill me. I’m probably just bad at reading maps. It’s not like ever needed that with GPS being a thing. Do they still make maps? It’s probably like the newspaper, only old people used them. Do they still make newspapers? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them on people’s porches recently.
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Just then, he crested a larger dune, and saw what looked like…a supply cache. He didn’t know what a supply cache should have looked like before he saw it, but after seeing it he only had one conclusion.
That’s a supply cache. I guess I owe the scouts an apology. They were not in fact trying to murder me. Their directions were actually super good considering I’ve only looked at maps in fantasy books before, and those aren’t necessarily ‘to scale’.
The cache was in a small depression, surrounded by larger dunes on all sides. Large metallic totes and containers were stacked and arrayed throughout the bowl. There were canopy strewn across the stacks of containers making it look like a bazaar.
It truly was bizarre. Instead of shopkeepers, Alex only saw Zotari, armed to the teeth. He counted twenty three as he surveyed. He laid almost at the top of one of the ridges of the sand dunes. He was high enough that he could see into the cache and low enough that they would only be able to see him if they were looking directly at him.
He tried to come up with a game plan, but was at a loss. When they had selected this location, they clearly had a strategy in place. It was normally advantageous to have the high ground as Alex had learned from a certain general. Here they were at the lowest point, but what they lacked in tactical advantage, they gained in concealment.
When you were traversing the desert, all the dunes looked the same. If you didn’t know where you were going, it was easy to get lost. You also don’t want to just climb and descend dunes all day if you don’t have to. How most of the Saxans traveled across the desert was by following the lowest paths they could find while staying on course. The Zotari likely knew this, so this bowl would almost never be seen by the Saxan armies if they followed their normal navigational system.
The basin was also very large. If an army had found this cache and decided to launch an assault, they would be seen long before they reached the center. Allowing the Zotari present to raise the alarm. Of course, if the Saxan army was large enough they would just overwhelm the small group. The Zotari no doubt had a way to send word to a nearby camp. If they were wiped out, the Saxans would be met with swift retribution.
Which is where Alex was at a loss. He needed to take out twenty three Zotari without any of them raising the alarm. He also had to cross a large clearing without any of them seeing him. He had no idea how to do this. It wasn’t like he was known for his stealth. As he contemplated his next move, it got even more complicated. He could see a cloud of dust on the horizon, heading towards the cache. When they climbed the ridge, he saw a caravan of warriors escorting carts full of supplies.
His adversaries had just doubled, at least. He continued watching from his vantage point. Alex wasn’t going to rush in before and he definitely wouldn’t now. He just hoped that he would continue to remain undetected. The last thing he needed was a repeat of his first night shift. This part of the valley was extremely unfamiliar to him.
I’m getting a bad feeling about this.
The two groups spoke to each other for a few minutes before the caravan began unloading into the various crates and containers. It looked like they had done this many time before, as they moved with practiced ease. To some areas they made a line of people to move the items faster, others were moved by only one or two Zotari. They had fallen into a rhythm and soon the cars were emptied. The second the last item had been removed from the carts, they began filling them back up with other supplies.
Alex was so entranced by their movements that he didn’t notice the two sets of warriors circling the area. They walked along the summit of the dunes walking in opposite directions, each footstep dripping sand all the way down the dunes giving it an almost liquid feel like they were walking along the edge of a waterfall. They would meet around where Alex was currently spying. He couldn’t run away as that would alert them. He didn’t want to fight them if he could avoid it altogether either. He had to think fast. They were almost to the point they would be able to see him.
Alex did the only thing he could think of, he dug a hole in the sand, jumped in it, and frantically began burying himself. Alex was never the one to bury himself in the sand at the beach. He would much rather play in the water. He didn’t really like sand to be honest. It was rough and coarse and got everywhere. Fortunately for him, his suit didn’t let any sand in. This was a feature he hadn’t really expected, but was extremely grateful for. This meant that sand didn’t get in his mouth or eyes when a sudden gust of wind sandblasted him, and right now, he could be buried in it without no problem. He covered his entire body, taking a deep breath when he got to his face. He shot his arms under the sand and hoped his camouflage was good enough.
One of the benefits Alex had noticed of his awakened body, was the increased stamina. Not only did it let him go for longer, it made it to where he didn’t run out of breath for long periods of time. Alex had been holding his breath for five minutes already while he waited for the groups to pass him without even straining his lungs. He wondered how long he could hold his breath. He felt that he still needed to breathe, but was almost sure that one day, he wouldn’t.
Another five minutes and the groups finally converged. He knew this for two reasons. One, he could hear muffled speech above him. Two, because one of them was standing directly above his dangly bits, and it was not comfortable. Sure, Alex had grown to be extremely durable so he wouldn’t sustain any lasting damage to them, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still feel pain. The constant pressure was extremely uncomfortable and the group continued to talk. After another five minutes, Alex was beginning to lose hope. The pressure ebbed and flowed as he imagined the culprit was likely shifting his weight around as one did during a longer conversation. Eventually all the weight was resting on one leg.
The wrong one.
Alex whimpered and squirmed slightly as another five minutes passed. He was about to blast out of the sand, throwing caution to the wind when finally, the unpleasant experience came to an abrupt end. The voices stopped and Alex could hear the sound of footsteps receding, apparently making their loop back to wherever they started from. This was good as Alex had started to find the limit his lungs had. It looked like fifteen to twenty minutes was likely his maximum. He waited another five minutes, as that was as long as it took for them to arrive, before he thrust himself out of the sand with a sudden intake of air.
Add that to his list of obstacles. He now knew that there was a couple of roving guards that could see his assault and raise the alarm. Alex was starting to get really annoyed with the Saxan’s reluctance to work with him.