CHAPTER 20
“Hey, it’s your turn.”
Ventas jerked awake, twitching reflexively away from the hand that shook him as his heart went from resting to panic.
“Relax.” Birdie whispered dismissively, straightening up and nudging his legs with her boot.
“Sorry,” He muttered, doing his best not to sound bitter as he sat up and rubbed the weariness from his eyes, removing his hand from the bow at his side.
Birdie walked to her bedroll and tugged it closer to the dying embers of the fire, and Ventas watched as she pulled her boots off and unstrapped Brand from her shoulders. He looked between her and Brooke, who hadn’t moved from where she’d gone to bed hours before.
“How long until we pack up?” He asked Birdie blearily, rolling up his sleeping mat and tying it to his bag to sit on while he watched.
“I should only need a couple of hours.”
“Are you going to have the energy to keep this up?” He asked. Brooke was supposed to be second watch, which meant she should have been the one to wake him…
“I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t sound like she wanted to keep talking, and Ventas didn’t blame her. They had spent the first half of the night on the run, and had hardly spoken in all that time. After dispatching the last of the mageaters on the hill, Ventas had combed through the corpses of the fallen monsters for arrows while the girls packed up camp. They all mutually agreed that staying put would be suicide, and left the hill far behind. Another group of mageaters intercepted them a few hours later, sprinting at them from the west as they made their way north. They were forced to turn eastwards towards the divine domain just to avoid the steady stream of beasts that wouldn’t seem to relent.
They had a good system of dispatching them now, but the hoards were harder to anticipate in the dark, and because their attacks were spread out over the course of several hours they continually pushed them off course. In a desperate attempt to find some respite, Birdie and Ventas agreed that making for the divine domain would be wisest, and they altered their course accordingly. Brooke had argued vehemently, saying that they needed to make a break for the woods and turn back. The argument between the girls had been more heated than Ammi’s fight with Shields, and Ventas worried that the two would come to blows when Epictus finally stepped in.
The divine had been silent all day. He said that using his communication would draw the beasts faster, so he could only drop in to provide essential input. Luckily for Ventas, that input included a better picture of their position, as they hadn’t the time to consult the map. Epictus told them that they were far enough east that it would only take a candlemark to reach the safety of the boundary, and turning back would take too long.
Brooke had gone silent after that. All of them were exhausted and aching by the time Epictus dropped in to tell them they should be safe. So when Birdie offered to take the first watch, Brooke conjured a fire, curled up in her bedroll, and from what Ventas could tell, she hadn’t moved an inch since.
Birdie was already still and breathing slowly, and Ventas suddenly felt his grogginess dissipate at being the only one conscious. There was nothing quite like the weight of being the sole watch to shock the exhaustion from your system.
The girls had given him the last watch, but Ventas might as well have not slept at all. He spent the night dozing fitfully, waking to every snapping twig and sniffle of the campfire. Every time his mind dropped off to sleep, it was quickly interrupted by throbs of pain in his arm, and terrifying visions of the mageaters’s faces. He felt that same jumpiness return tenfold now that it was his job to keep an eye out for trouble, and he found himself wishing for the billionth time that day that he too had a sword- though he wouldn’t really know how to use it.
He heaved a troubled sigh and pulled his quiver to himself, counting the poor haggard things. Eight arrows. That was all he had left from their fight. He’d lost three on the hill, and the rest were lost to the chasing mageaters, as he hadn’t been stupid enough to stop the group in order to pick through their foes to scavenge.
Eight arrows, a few of which were pretty grubby and worse for wear. It wasn’t much, but he could make it work- he had to make it work. He reached into his pack and pulled a large wooden tube from the side, worked off the fitted lid, and laid out its contents on the ground before him.
A bundle of straight carved sticks, a pouch of feathers and thin leather wings for fletchings, a small box of arrowheads cushioned in wood shavings, a full vial of dark pitch, and a spool of thin thread. He had enough supplies to make two dozen more arrows and repair a few of the more tattered ones, and though that wasn’t much, it was still comforting to know that he wasn’t completely useless.
His confidence in his craft felt fractured by the weight of their impending ordeal, and doubt began to slip through the cracks as he got to work with shaking fingers. Sure he had enough for now, but what about later? They were one day out from the safety of their woods and he was already down half his prepared supply. They were still weeks from the northern coast, and they were going to spend most of that time in the wilds. He hadn’t even considered their return trip either. He could always scavenge sticks and feathers, but what was he going to do when he ran out of pitch? Arrow heads? What if his bow broke? Even if Birdie got more confident using Brand and lent him her sword, what use would he be with a blade when he’d never used one in his life? He was almost useless on the hill when he tackled a monster off of Brooke; if not for Birdie, a bite on the arm might have been the least of his injuries…
Ventas sighed and stood, massaging the bandage over his wound absently as he made his way to a fallen tree outside the ring of their camp. He kept his ears alert as he picked through the branches, discarding most but salvaging a few straighter sticks until he had a satisfactory bundle. He was lucky that whatever this tree was, that the wood was hard and resilient.
Satisfied with his findings, he returned to his spot and got to work on refilling his quiver. The work was nice. It burned off the excess anxiety and gave his body something to do while his mind ran wild. He was deep in thought about how he would make his own arrowheads when a familiar prickling sensation sprouted behind his eye.
“Shouldn’t you be keeping watch?” Epictus chided.
“Shouldn’t you be quiet right now?” He shot back under his breath.
Ventas decided in that moment that divine’s favor in directing them to safety wasn’t enough to make him forgive the divine for what he said back on the hill.
“We are in the boundary, so I can talk all I want because the mageaters won’t be able to get to you. What you lot need to worry about is the divine. Surely he knows you are here by now, and there is no telling how he might react.” Epictus warned, “Vigilance is key. So I will hang around as long as it takes to make sure you stay awake and alert.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to answer.”
“Oh don’t tell me you’re still upset about our little spat by the apple tree? We are bonded in trial now! That’s twice I’ve saved your life, we should be thanking each other.”
“Okay.” Ventas relented, “Thank me.”
Epictus laughed and Ventas ignored him, using his whittling knife to shave down his gathered sticks as straight and even as he could. Little curls of rough bark peeled away easily and fell into a pile at his feet, and Ventas made a mental note to collect them later for kindling. After several beats of silence, Epictus finally got the hint that Ventas wasn’t about to engage in small talk, and the divine cleared his throat, getting to business.
“In all seriousness though, we do need to talk about your situation. It seems my merry band of heroes is in a spot of bother aren’t they?”
“Are you referring to the pack of mageaters on our tail? Or that we are clearly getting herded closer to the divine you say is dangerous? Or maybe you're alluding to the fact that the two best friends back there seem ready to rip each other's throats out?”
“I meant your trajectory- though the tension between the two is rather unfortunate. I told Birdie to send the girl back. Stubborn thing.”
“You picked her.” Ventas reminded him.
“Yes I suppose I did bring this on myself. But back to your course. I am not comfortable letting you stay in this domain too long, but his border around you curves subtly to the east, and if you continue north from here you will be back in the wilds by the end of the week. I don't know if you will all be ready to jump back into the wilds by then…”
“So we can’t camp out, but we are not ready to leave. So what do you suggest?” Ventas asked.
“I suggest that you make a detour south to where the distance between my domain and this one is shortest. Then you can make a mad dash across the wilds and backtrack to my woods-”
“We’re not going back, Birdie would never let us-”
“-Not to retreat, but to drop Brooke off in my domain. I don’t know if you’ve been watching her, but the poor thing looks like she is three degrees from madness. She is not going to make it any farther in this adventure. She will either have a mental break or be taken out by a mageater, and as bothersome as she has been on this trip I am still rather fond of her as my Champion you know. It’s not her fault. She never should have come in the first place.”
“I’m not feeling particularly resilient at the moment either, in case that wasn't clear.”
Epictus gave a breathy laugh and Ventas could practically see an image in his mind of the divine’s bitter smile.
“Perhaps not. But you and Birdie are made of tougher stuff. Sure the circumstances are less than Ideal, but you are both used to weathering through! Give it some time and you will adapt- but Brooke… I’m not so sure. How is your bite by the way?”
Ventas paused his work on his arrow and pulled the wrappings from the bandage away, holding his arm up for inspection. The long circle of short wounds were deep, dark pink in the center and inflamed roundabout, but they hadn’t bled much. In the subtle light of the night Ventas made out the faint discoloration, and the disturbingly familiar pattern of teeth… it looked almost elvish.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Does it bother you?”
“Not really? It’s strange, I I kept dreaming about the pain but it doesn’t actually hurt now that I’m awake. It’s numb, almost like when you fall asleep on your arm funny. Pins and needles.”
“Mmmm. Sounds about right for a mageater wound. Keep it clean and you should be fine, but if it starts bothering you have Brooke take a look at it. Lucky for you it bit you in the arm and not my eye… that could have killed you, ha!”
Ventas froze as a shroud of chills covered him, collating in the crescented impressions of teeth on his arm. His mind offered up the image of the looming mageater that was inches from pouncing on him with its gaping maw and sunken empty eyes.
“So they actually feed on magic by consuming the body of a magic user?” he asked, fighting to get the words passed the tight knot in his throat.
“Correct. So you make sure to keep them away from the girls. Brook might have a chance if she gets bitten, but they could do some real damage to Birdie if they manage to get their jaws on her…”
“What do you know about them, Epictus?” He whispered, re-wrapping the bandage and casting a look over his shoulder at his sleeping companions. The divine was quiet.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know anything. You can keep your secrets but not the ones that might save our lives.”
“It’s just, I…” Epictus faltered, and for a moment, Ventas thought he heard him choking. Between the divine’s faint sputtering, Ventas realized something.
“Are you under an oath of secrecy?” He asked in amazement, “I didn’t know divines could be bound like that…”
“Ahem, excuse me!” He coughed, “The truth about the divines would be enough to drive you back out into the wilds, Ventas. I am just lucky you are astute enough to come to your own conclusions…”
So it was a yes then. Epictus couldn’t divulge the details he knew about the horrible shriveled beasts that swarmed to magic like bugs to a torchlight- but he did know something. He was just under an oath to keep the secret. Questions ignited within his mind one after the other; who put Epictus under this oath? Why was it so important that elves not know the mysteries of the monsters? Did the divine have knowledge that might allow Ventas to figure out a way to keep them away? He had to find out.
“Let’s play a game. I will make an assumption about the mageaters, and if I am wrong stay quiet. If I am nearing the truth, speak.”
“Aaaah look at you! Who would have thought that your uncle’s devious tactic would come in handy. I thought everything the man came up with was pure horse sh-”
“Enough.” Ventas snapped, not wanting Epictus to get started on Camcenan again.
“Just play along would you?”
“Oh alright, if you insist.”
“Thank you. For my first assumption: I am guessing that the mageaters are related to elves in some way.”
Epictus huffed.
“Well see, I am not sure whether I should speak or not Ventas, you need to be more specific!”
“Try to figure it out? Please?”
“Fine. I suppose I can confirm that you are totally wrong about the elves…”
Ventas hadn’t anticipated such a tricky answer so soon…
“wrong about the elves?”
“Mmmhmmm.”
And Epictus was so confident about that truth that he could say it without the oath binding him… But he had spoken, so that meant Ventas must have been close to something.
“So related… but not to the elves?”
“Inch by inch mate, you’re getting there!”
“Related to the champions?”
Silence.
“Related… to the divines?”
“Ah! Beautifully done! But distantly…far and away, like the sun and the stars.”
Ventas felt an excited squirm in his chest. The mageaters weredistantly related to the divines! And Ventas had figured it out from a bite mark!
“Were they once gods like you?”
His eye remained un-pricked, and the divine silent. So he was colder...
“Not gods then. So something else. Do you come from the same place?”
“Ventas, if I had known you were so observant I would have never relegated you to mouth-piece. I’m thoroughly impressed!”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Epictus.” He suppressed a smile while grabbing the jar of pitch from his belongings and dipping a small brush into the black sticky stuff. He spread it on the edge of a clipped feather and pressed it to his carved arrow shaft, holding it there for a moment before wrapping a small bit of twine around the bottom.
“We already know magic doesn’t work against them- or it doesn't hurt them at least.”
He trailed off in thought, twirling his arrow in his fingers. It took him a moment to realize the suspicious silence in his mind, and he perked up.
“Raw magic can’t hurt it. But channeled power like fire can?”
“I admit, I could have just told you that. It’s no secret, but you were on a roll so I figured I would let you get there on your own.”
“So arrows, swords, and elements manipulated by power can beat them. But killing them is only slowing us down. What we need is a way to hide- keep them from even seeing us in the first place.”
“That would be ideal, but I am afraid that it simply isn’t going to happen. They smell magic. I can teach Birdie how to suppress her power, but you will have to wait until Brooke runs out, and I don’t know if we can suppress your magical footprint without severing the bond we have…”
Ventas felt his feathers ruffle. Severing the bond? He wouldn’t mind that in the slightest! That was the whole point! The only reason he was out here was to fulfill his side of a bargain that was slowly tearing his world apart. Being free of the divine would solve all of his problems, but that would mean stranding himself and the girls in the wilds without the wisdom of the divine at their disposal.
“Don’t be mad at me!” Epictus butted in, “Our arrangement is only temporary and cutting it early would only cause problems. Every time I talk to you it’s like chumming the waters for the beasts, but losing me entirely would spell disaster for you.”
“What-ing the waters?” Ventas asked in confusion.
“Chum- oh never mind. What matters is that Between you and Birdie, your party might as well be a shining beacon in the night. Birdie has her hand in the well for goodness sake! Unless she can learn some pretty advanced magic very quickly, hiding isn’t going to be an option.”
That was unfortunate. If Ventas considered himself good at anything, it would be hiding. That was a big part of what kept him awake earlier- there was too much open sky around them. He wished they could sleep in a tree or hold up under groundcover and bushes for the night, but in this hilly grassland, he felt as if the sky itself was watching their every move. Mageaters only had to catch their scent on the wind and follow it in a straight line right to them.
“They smell the power… Like how Birdie tastes it?” He asked.
“Right you are, but again, that wasn’t a secret. I am starting to lose the respect I gained for you.”
“Why don’t they just switch to sight? Wouldn’t that make it easier to find us? Or we can have Birdie reassign her magic sense to sight so she can see them coming!”
“Mmmmm. Yes or no questions only my friend. But I guess I can hold your hand to this answer. Do you remember what I told Birdie back in the forest when I showed her how to reassign her magic sense to her mouth and she asked about her sense of hearing?”
“Yea,” Ventas placed the fresh arrow gently onto the ground with the other finished ones.
“You mentioned something about someone going insane from hearing voices?”
“Correct. Magic sight might seem like an advantage, but it wreaks havoc on your system if you use it too long. It works well as a way to scout, but I air on the side of caution, and recommend using it sparingly.”
Ventas let the divine speak himself into a corner as he pondered.
“Birdie did seem pretty disoriented back in the woods when she left your domain…. Does it drive you crazy?”
“I am breaking the rules of the game here to tell you outright, but no. Tell me Ventas, why don't you go staring at the sun all day?”
Ventas shrugged at the obvious answer.
“Because it will burn your eyes…out…”
Ventas lowered his arrow and stared blankly into the night as the answers came crashing together in his mind with an almost audible boom. In his desperation to preserve arrows, he’d taken the time to turn over dead beasts and pull the projectiles from flesh. He’d seen up close the sockets of the mageaters, had even stared a live one in the face as it prepared to sink its crooked and browning teeth into his skull. He looked into their eyes…
Their empty, horrible, shriveled sockets..
His blood ran cold.
“gods… It will burn your eyes out… Did the mageaters lose their sight by staring at magic for too long?”
Epictus laughed in quiet pride.
“You should be writing all of this down, this is brilliant stuff. But then again, maybe not. I don’t care if you know but the idea of Camcenan getting his grubby little hands on this information makes me uncomfortable.”
“Gods...”
Ventas placed his head in his hands and stared at his feet in realization. These beings had once been normal- or as normal as a thing could be when they came from whatever place produced the divines. But something- magic probably- had turned them into the husks that wandered the wilds. Driven them mad. Driven them viscous.
They were sentient!
Ventas was suddenly keenly aware of every ache in his body. He looked down at the bite on his arm and felt sickened by it, sickened by himself for killing them all. He pitied them.
“Do they know?” He asked, regretting having asked before he even opened his mouth.
“Do they know what they are doing?”
“... Don’t know… help… never worked. I tried...”
Ventas’s fists clenched around his hair, and his voice trembled in emotional rage.
“Did your kind do this to them? Did you make them?”
“N-not me.” Epictus sputtered, gasping as he choked out his next words.
“Tt-two other… in secret… made for s-something… else… evil. Bad decisions-”
The prickling behind his eye stopped, and Ventas assumed that Epictus was dealing with the binding of his mouth from speaking too close to the oath. He didn’t want more answers though. The ones he had unearthed were terrible. Horrible truths that he wished he didn’t know- truths that didn’t bring them any closer to a solution to their plight.
That’s my problem, he thought bitterly as he unintentionally snapped a stick he’d begun to shave down.
I am too nosy for my own good. I can’t be content. And now I have to deal with the consequences of knowing.
The answers didn’t provide him solace or comfort. They only made him more afraid.
He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping form of Birdie. She had looked incredibly tired when she woke him, but now in the dying red glow of the fire she appeared almost peaceful. A strand of her short hair, usually pulled into a disciplined braid, had fallen across her face and down her chin. Ventas wondered what would happen over time as she continued to let her magic sense remain assigned to taste. Would she lose the sensation all together? How long until she too became a husk like the monsters that pursued them?