Terius is in the air in under two hours. Racing northbound, his speed slowly increased from subsonic to supersonic. The trick to flying at high speeds is absorbing the kinetic and thermal energies created by air friction. Combined, they rapidly build up to overwhelming levels and require constant venting. The kinetic gets dumped entirely, half of the thermal goes with it. The other half of the thermal with practice can be dumped behind the forward pressure wave to keep you warm. It makes you highly visible to at least a quarter of the population that can detect heat sources, but the comfort is worth it.
Increasing his speed from two times freefall to three, making himself as aerodynamic as a human body can be, he breaks the sound barrier. The Rocky Waste landscape scrolls rapidly below him, he pushes himself to four times free fall, his speed now approaching a thousand miles an hour. He’d push further but that would risk overshooting the badlands. He only needed to travel a little more than 800 miles in a straight line, he grins thinking about the laborious route he found mapped out by Fallon in the library. The mountains below begin to thin out and shrink to hill size, seeing mostly desert below, he drops his speed down and starts scanning the landscape for the spec known as Paradise.
Three black smudges and a half-destroyed house are all that remain of Paradise; but it’s enough to draw his gaze. Terius dumps all his kinetic and redirects himself downward at twice freefall. The sudden increasing potential energy of his landing is dizzying.
Terius performs a technique that few can master, as he absorbs the kinetic energy from the impact, he vents it back into the ground. It’s akin to a skill used by elite wind instrument players, whereby they breathe in through their nose and out with their mouth, using air stored in their cheeks, allowing them to hold a note for minutes or even hours without stopping. In this case it’s his spirit acting as a buffer and through practiced visualization and absolute confidence in his ability he is able for a few moments perform as a conductor instead of a battery.
The crippling pain of that much energy coursing through his body isn’t lessened, this is the single most painful technique he knows. He wouldn’t ordinarily perform such an irresponsible move, but this is Fallon who is missing, every second counts. Somewhere in his subconscious mind he knows he isn’t behaving rationally but doesn’t care.
Terius is standing waste deep in a six-yard crater, three dozen yards outside Paradise. The walls of the crater are smoking from the massive transfer of energy, rocky debris the size of melons fall all around Terius as he scans the area for any signs of his friend.
The destroyed town is proof that Fallon is up against something he could not control. Terius takes a few breaths to center his thoughts. He wants dearly to have something to punch right now but will have to settle for performing an investigation. Starting with the only standing structure, it was once a home, now it’s a half burnt deserted husk.
Outside the home he finds the extended family that lived there, dead. It’s only been three, maybe four days since they died. His noisy arrival probably scared off whatever was last feeding here. All the soft tissue like eyes, brains, and organs are gone, along with most of the meat. There’s enough connective tissue to hold the bones together. A few limbs are gone, but he can tell with little effort that there are four dead adults and five dead children. Damage to the bones shows they were both bludgeoned and chopped with crude weapons. The shredded clothing identified them as locals, Fallon would not be dressed as these people were.
The three buildings that were completely consumed by flames told stories too. One must have been storage, dozens of metal hoops from barrels survived as did some of their contents. Scorched piles of cavi feed were everywhere. Giant clumps of metal slag that had once been nails and screws dot the floor at even intervals where the crates that contained them were consumed in flame. No sign of life or the loss of life was found there. There was ample evidence that the structure beside it had been a store, many of the same items found in the warehouse were present here but in smaller quantities. Nobody died in the store either. That left the fourth structure, a jail if he remembers correctly.
Walking across the street, Terius notes there were fewer footprints in the dirt around the jail. The metal bars and cell door were still intact. Shackles, hinges, and the handles for doors and drawers were in abundance. Next to what must have been the metal frame of a bed was a knife with a scorched handle, and the remains of a pack that came from Mammatus study. Fallon was here and he left in a hurry.
The next thing Terius needs to focus his attention on is the dirt and those footprints. He would ordinarily have avoided stepping on or disturbing any prints, but in this case, there were too many to avoid around the warehouse and store. There had been a large force here and they did nothing to hide their presence. Terius walked a wide circle around Paradise making note of the direction and number of prints. There is ample evidence of a large, possibly as large as a thousand soldiers staged a half mile north of Paradise. Taking into account the low traffic around the jail he surmises that the initial attack was executed with a small strike force, maybe one or two dozen combatants. When they hit the jail, they were repulsed by Fallon. This forced them to bring in the entire force, swarming around the two burning buildings and converging behind the home which Fallon must have extinguished.
The area behind the home is confusing. There are signs of people having dug themselves shallow depressions for hiding. Somebody retreating this way, fleeing the main force would have walked into an ambush. None of this could have hurt Fallon, and the desert family would have been difficult to save under such conditions. The most baffling clue he’s found is the area inside the ambush zone. Somebody was injured and lost a lot of blood and strangely there is an unseasonably green patch of desert wildflowers all around the blood-stained sandy dirt.
Whatever was used to attack the family couldn’t have scratched Fallon. It’s doubtful that the owner of those blood stains could have moved themselves to where the bodies were found. That means someone else was the center of the ambush, but where does that leave Fallon? Could he have picked up the dying person and flown off somewhere? He’d be home for sure if that were the case.
Terius walks another wide circle around the ambush, there are two sets of prints. One is a stealthy approach of a dozen people. They were walking in a single file line, but the numbers drop as they reach each depression. The last set of footprints terminate at the final indentation.
The second set of prints is undisciplined and disorganized. It shows every sign of a fighting force suddenly losing cohesion as if something broke their morale. There are signs of dropped weapons, stumbles, and falls, all the hallmarks of a hurried unplanned retreat.
Somebody would have comeback to gather the dropped weapons, and their dead. Surely Fallon would have made them pay with blood, hence the main force was brought forward, maybe they carried off the bleeding man from the green patch.
Terius almost convinced himself that is what happened, except for a pair of footprints that were in no hurry. One set of prints were made from boots similar to what Terius wore, but they belong to the bleeding survivor. That couldn’t be Fallon, the weapons that slayed the family couldn’t have scratched him. The second set of prints belongs to someone wearing soft flat footwear that reminded Terius of sandals or thongs. The second set walked beside the wounded person as if trying to help but didn’t have the strength to fully support him when he stumbles, hence the falls.
Terius lifts his gaze in the direction those two prints lead. Roughly southwest. He peers in that direction looking for any hints. He holds his hand out and makes a circle with his thumb and fingers. He creates an illusion of a lens inside that circle. He does the same with his off hand. Now peering through both circles his vision is magnified by 25 times. He locates some nearby tracks and lifts his far-seeing fingers up to the horizon.
There maybe six miles out is possibly the outline of a man kneeling as if meditating. He drops his hands partially in disgust with himself. He didn’t need to use his hands for this ability, it’s something children do because they lack the discipline to do it otherwise. But the main reason for his disgust is with himself for getting his hopes up over something that will likely turn out to be a pile of rocks.
Terius doesn’t think he’ll discover more at this site and decides to follow the trail to the southwest before pursuing the retreated force to the north. He sets off at a healthy pace of twenty miles an hour, speeding his thoughts so he can continue tracking the stumbling pair of footprints. After about ten minutes he learns that the meditating man was indeed a pile of rocks.
The formation is three times the size of a man and is capable of providing shade to the east in the evening and to the west in the late afternoon. This now being late afternoon, Terius takes a moment to rest in the shade.
Before he crouches down, he notices the pair of footprints also stopped here. A pair of carrion beetles are eating the dirt seasoned by the wounded man’s blood. They were here for a short time before moving on. They can’t be far ahead. Judging by the stride length they are both struggling to stand, they couldn’t be moving more than two miles an hour.
Terius decides to start moving again, he swings back to the southwest direction and sees the footprints leading off to another large rock formation, this one is maybe two miles away. It is ten times the size of the rock pile of his current location.
There among the stacked boulders is a heat source that is characteristic of a cookfire.
Without need of tracking faint footprints in the shifting dusty dirt, Terius takes to the air and drops down ten yards from the rocks in a matter of minutes. Sitting by the fire is an old man, he must be well into his 90’s. A receding hairline and deep crevasses on his forehead, corners of his eyes, and mouth, show he is well out of his 80’s. The man is dressed for the climate in lose fitting clothes that offer protection from the sun, but air circulation when on the move. He is currently cooking a pair of cavi on a large stick over the fire. Laying on the ground asleep is a pale, bloodied, Headmaster Fallon Gale.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The old man speaks in a firm confident and surprisingly deep voice for his average size, “You had better be the man called Leonis, this man has spoken about.”
“My friends call me Leonis, I am Master Terius or Mammatus Study.”
“Well Master Terius, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Mika. Won’t you join us at our fire?”
Terius keeps his guard up; he sees multiple avenues of attack for both him and this stranger. Until he has his friend safely in Mammatus he will regard everything as a threat. Cautiously he approaches within three yards of the fire.
“If you think I’m a threat, or the one that did this to your friend, you are mistaken.”
Focusing on the old man called Mica, “What happened to Master Gale?”
The old man looks from Terius to the wounded man sleeping next to him, “Master Gale is it; he never did say his name. At least not coherently.”
The old man smiles, it’s one of those smiles where the mouth says happy, but the eyes say sad, “Your friend was ambushed. The attackers were but children, the ones you call lost. Somebody has given them weapons of power. Your friend Master Gale here was badly injured before he could know he could not defend himself traditionally from them.”
The old man reaches into a fold and pulls out a small black arrowhead. He holds it up for Terius to see before tossing it to him.
Terius feels the small stone arrowhead spinning towards him. Each time the sharp edges face him he feels the potential of a slash, when the tip is facing him, there’s a sharp jab. He prepares to snatch it out of the air and hold whichever kinetic energy pattern strikes.
Terius was not prepared for the sharpened edge to slash his thumb, or for the pointed edge to penetrate his palm. Closing his fist on the impossible arrowhead he instinctively fast travels backwards to his original landing site, putting distance between himself and the source of this attack.
“I could have told you about the dangers, but a child never believes a fire is hot until they stick their hand in it.
Terius stares at his hand. The cut on his thumb is already healing, but the arrow tip is still penetrating his palm. In utter disbelief he pulls it out of his palm and throws it in the air to re-catch. This time fully prepared to absorb the kinetic energy of the falling weapon. Once again it is unhindered by his spirit’s efforts and breaks his skin. He stares at the strange object in his hand and slowly walks to Mica and his fire.
“While I don’t appreciate your characterization of me as a child, I do appreciate the bluntness of your teaching method.”
“Your friend was hit by thirteen arrows, tipped with these heads. A sweep of his hand shows Terius the small pile of obsidian stone heads. He also took a few hits with their mele weapons, which are embedded with the same stones. He lost a lot of blood before I found him. I was able to remove all but two arrows right away. His spirit showed it could heal his flesh quickly once they were removed. He insisted on moving as far from that site as possible before daybreak. We stumbled through the night and most of the day. I’m sorry I’m not as strong as I once was, or I would have carried him. We rested when the pain of the remaining arrows overtook him. He’s as strong as humans come, but not invincible. I’d like to say I convinced him to stop for the night, but he only passed out and would likely keep moving when he awakes. That changes with you here. He’ll listen to you.”
Terius is dubious of the old man’s story. It leaves out a lot of details, like, who is he? What is he doing here? Why is he helping a stranger? Why did the army retreat in disarray when they achieved victory? Those questions will have to wait, there’s a more pressing question.
“You removed all but two of the arrows, what is the issue with those that remain?”
“They hit bone and I believe he regenerated bone around them before I arrived. They are quite stuck.”
Terius has most of what he needs for field surgery, but would like to send this man away on an errand, “Do you have any uncooked whole cavi?”
“I have two more, are you thinking of using cavi sinew for stitches?”
“Yes, I have some, but I expect to need more.”
Reaching behind himself the old man drags a pack forward, sticks a hand inside and comes out with a sack containing the two cavi, “I’ll take these to the other side of this formation where I dressed these two.” He waves the stick with the two cooking cavi he’s been clutching under his arm all this time. Mica takes the two cooked cavi from over the flames and leans the stick against the rock wall. And walks away whistling a cheery marching tune.
All those questions from before are still swirling in his mind, he stays tuned and listens to the old man’s whistling and the steady pad of his feet in the dirt.
He scrambles up onto the low rocky base of the formation. Two other boulders create a corner with a tiny outcrop above provided by yet another. Not much of a fortified position, but more defensible than the open desert.
Fallon is laying between the fire and the corner. Terius kneels at his side and leans over his face with his ear hovering an inch from Fallon’s mouth. He both hears and feels his old friend’s breath. They sound clear but weak. Terius places a couple fingers across Fallon’s neck and judges the pulse strong but too fast. Next, he tries to wake Fallon, first with a nudge to his arm, then a light shake of the shoulders. Light slaps to his cheeks net him nothing either.
“Fallon old friend, you can sleep on your own time. I need answers only you can give,” Terius leaves the rest unsaid. He wanted answers before the old man returns. Which the rising volume of whistling indicates is about to happen.
Terius gives up on answers and continues inspecting Fallon’s condition he locates five of the arrow wounds from damage to his clothes. The wounds are healed and will be little more than blemishes in another day and gone the day after. Not wanting to roll him over until he questions the old man, he contents himself by preparing his field surgery supplies.
The old man reappears, the prepared cavi back in his bag, he holds up a hand with a dozen tendons of various lengths of one to three inches. “These are the only ones that looked useable for your purpose.”
“I found five healed wounds on his chest. Should I favor one side over the other when I roll him over?”
“Neither side needs to be favored. The remaining arrows are in his back. He’s a tough old man, he placed himself this way, I would have laid on my side. I snapped the arrows off with two inches protruding in case we found some plyers.”
Terius lifts his friend as gently as possible and turns him over on his stomach. Carefully turning his face towards the fire so he can see if his eyes open or show pain. His back tells the whole story. His shirt is shredded exposing more skin than not. Tearing it the rest of the way open reveals the two arrows as warned, but also massive scarring. It looks like someone stripped his flesh off his back. It’s mostly healed but with massive amounts of scar tissue. That isn’t normal for someone with the gift. His back should have healed to its previous unblemished state. The fact that his body is healed but with scar tissue is as alarming as being injured in the first place. A dark thought occurs to Terius. What if this is what happened to Malo? What if the very nature of the gift is changing? He shakes off those thoughts and returns his attention to Fallon.
The first arrow is embedded in Fallon’s left scapula, that’s a fortunate break, there will only be one layer of muscle to cut and repair. The second arrow is also on the left but lower, there could be as many as three layers of muscle in the way. Terius has not performed much in the way of surgeries, mostly self-repairs, and is taking in all the information as his mind dredges it up from their species inheritance of knowledge.
For once he wishes there was more on healing and not so much on killing. For every useful piece of information his mind is revealing there are three that have to do with disabling or killing a person when attacking this same region.
Not wanting to waste another minute, he pulls one of his long knives from his belt, and the shorter blade from his boot sheath. He takes a moment with his eyes closed to both calm himself and to visualize what he is about to do. Terius will be using his gift for some aspects of this surgery, his knives, and supplies for others.
First the long knife is used to make a slit with just enough pressure to cut down to, and through the third fatty layer of skin. The slit is aligned with the muscle fibers below and along the arrow shaft edge. He uses his gift to hold the two edges apart, so they don’t prematurely begin to knit. The fibrous muscle below reveals his visualization paid off. Next his short knife comes into play, he slices an inch from each side of the shaft along the grain of the muscle. Again, he uses his gift to apply a steady stream of kinetic energy, holding the split muscle open. Dark dots of blood appear along the muscle edges. He cauterizes the damaged blood vessels with pinpoint dots of thermal energy. Terius can now see the arrowhead. Grasping the black stone arrowhead firmly with his left hand he pulls, causing the scapula to lift a little. A steady stream of kinetic force is applied to prevent the scapula from moving further. He pulls harder on the arrowhead and simultaneously holds the bone down with kinetic force. While working the arrowhead back and forth, its sharpened edge weakens the bones grip. After the longest twenty seconds of Terius’s life the arrowhead comes free. He grabs the length of sinew with the suture needle and throws a stitch to pull the muscle together.
Fallon’s gift is already working to repair the split muscle. Terius releases the energy holding his skin apart, pinches it closed and holds it until it begins to mend itself closed, taking almost two more minutes.
A familiar and long unheard voice says, “Free’er returned, that hurt. Tell me that was the second one and not the first.”
Terius is overjoyed at hearing his friend’s voice, “When did you awaken?”
“I believe you were slicing open my back with that long knife you set over there when the shock woke me up. Now tell me if I need to brace for another round of pain at the hands of Terius the Terror of Mammatus.”
“Sorry old friend but there’s another arrowhead still stuck in your back.”
“Yes, I can feel it now that the shock of surgery is over. This one is lower, there’s going to be more muscle layers to cut through. Tap me on the back of the head when you’re finished.” Master Fallon Gale closes his eyes and begins his breathing for improved healing and slips into a meditative trance.
The second surgery took more than twenty minutes and four pieces of sinew. Master Gale didn’t flinch until Terius gave him a tap on the back of his head.
The old man Mica had sat quietly with an amused expression on his face. He finished cooking the two cavi while watching Terius surgically remove the two arrowheads from his longtime friend and mentor. Seeing the procedure is complete he begins to pack his meager belongings. He leaves the pile of arrowheads untouched.
Finished packing he stands, “It looks like you are in good hands now Master Gale. I’ll be going.”
Terius jumps to his feet, hands covered in his friend’s blood, “I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?”
Terius responds arrogantly, “Because, I need answers!”
“You want answers?”
“Yes!”
The old man smiles laconically and says, “No, it isn’t the time.”
Terius reigns in his anger at old man, “What does that mean?”
“Farewell, Fallon Gale and Leonis Terius, until we meet again, be well” the old man hops spryly from the rock bed to the dusty floor and limps towards the fading eastern sunset.
Fallon notices the smell of cooked cavi for the first time since he’s been awake, “You can chase the old man later, I’m hungry enough to eat an entire cavi myself. Join me.”
Terius stares hard at the slowly departing figure, wondering if there will be a next time, “Hey, don’t eat all the cavi. We’re both going to need our strength if we’re to fly back to Mammatus tomorrow.”