Once the hail stops, I start walking once more. No Attunements to jump me through the night; I can’t risk doing magic or withdrawing anything from my inventory, even if I wasn’t already pressed on time. The glass I do have available, however, helps me navigate the dark. Now that I’ve figured out how I can use the glass to feel what’s around me, it’s like a whole new sense has budded into my mind. After using it a couple more times, Echo eventually chimes in with a [New Skill unlocked: Elemental Radar]. That seems to be becoming a trend: It takes me trying something a few times before Echo “Unlocks” it as a skill. Activating the ability, it lets me detect my surroundings with my glass like I had been doing already, but this takes up a fraction of the brainpower. I travel the rest of the night without any more mishaps, leveling the ability up to 3.
The day is long and tedious. A traveler riding an armadillo-pulled cart (Echo informs me these are actually called pebblebacks) passes me on the road, and I make an attempt to stow away on the back of their wagon. But I only manage to throw a couple pieces of glass at their cart, stabbing into the wood at the back, before realizing I don’t have a method to reach them or pull myself up. I dislodge my dwindling supply of glass and am forced to let the traveler pass.
Hours tick by without me encountering anyone else. The road gradually becomes rockier, the surrounding forest littered with boulders. The ground also starts to slope down, which I guess makes sense, what with the mountains behind me. The road sinks lower as the surrounding woods grow higher, and soon I’m in a sort of ravine, with the forests rising steeply to either side. On the one hand, heading down instead of up helps me move a little faster. On the other, this seems like the perfect terrain for a flash flood—or, depending on your perspective, a really terrible place for me to be if it rains. I eye the sky, which is full of fluffy white clouds, and seemingly absent of the stormier variety I’d encountered the night before. Apart from noting the gradual shift in landscape and worrying about yet another thing I can’t control, there’s nothing for me to do other than keep walking.
It’s boring as hell. And when I’m not bored, I’m struggling not to slip into crippling depression. The cycle goes something like this: I try practicing my signs again, but it seems a little pointless without Noli, and even just thinking of Noli has her last pleas ringing out in my ears. I have to remind myself why I had to leave her behind: It was the only way to help her. To keep her safe. And that recalls memories of the predator, of everything I did and felt while in that state. Memories of blood. Of the taste of souls. And then I start spiraling.
Which leads me to trying not to think about anything at all. So I’m back to boredom again. Better than self-loathing and pity, I guess.
With mounting concern, the day passes, and another night. Travelers between Peakshadow and Harrowood seem few and far between although, to my benefit, they always seem to be heading in the Harrowood direction. Still, I’m barely making any progress on my own, and running into travelers doesn’t help me unless I can hitch a ride with one.
My next chance comes at noon. Voices drift from behind me along the trail, so I veer off to the side and duck behind a rock to avoid getting crushed by any misplaced claws or hooves.
These travelers sound like they’re walking, rather than speeding by on a footbird or pebbleback-pulled cart. Maybe now that the threat of blindly being trampled by livestock isn’t in the mix, I’ll finally have a chance to pop out with my cheat sheet and ask for some help. Wouldn’t that be nice.
But as they draw closer, and I can start to make out their forms and snippets of their conversation, my soul sinks.
“...to be this way,” Tetara says. The orc’s face is contorted in a scowl, and she has bandages all around her torso. I shrink further to the ground, fear and regret crawling like frost through my limbs.
“Perhaps,” Saru agrees. Dark shadows ring her eyes. It doesn’t look like either of them have slept in days.
Since I killed their friends.
And even now, flashes of memories that shouldn’t be mine burn through my mind. Saru bleeding on the ground, reaching desperately for her team. Tetara roaring with fury, bathed in her own blood from gashes all across her chest and arms. She swings her ax at us as we gleefully sway around her erratic, slow moves—
No! I shake myself, tapping my glass against the stone, grounding me in the present. It. Not us. Those weren’t my feelings. Not my actions. But it’s hard to convince myself that’s true when I can still feel everything as if I did it.
“Where else would they go?” Tetara growls. “Harrowood is the only path out of the mountains.”
Saru shakes her head. “If they’re capable of summoning a fiend like that, then their magic might allow them more mobility than a standard traveler.”
Tetara grunts. “Even so, this is the best chance we have.”
“Agreed,” Saru says. “We can’t let them do to Harrowood what they did to Peakshadow. The Summoner must be stopped.”
Summoner? What were they talking about? They’re nearly level with me now, and I keep perfectly still as they pass.
“The first step is to take away their means,” Tetara says. “Summoning materials. That foci.”
“Are you sure about what you saw?” Saru asks. “I couldn’t make it out when…”
“I’m sure,” Tetara snarls. “It had a glass heart. That must have been its summoning foci. Strike down the heart, strike down the beast.”
My soul lurches. She’d seen me tucked inside the void’s shadows. A foci? A summoner? I don’t know what she thinks happened, but she’s right about one thing: Killing me would banish the predator.
Which means I’ve got a target painted on my back.
Their voices fade as they move ahead, but I feel rooted in place. Even if I make it to Harrowood, now, I’ll have Saru and Tetara to avoid. If they find me, they’ll kill me. And the worst part is, I don’t even think they’d be in the wrong.
They’re long out of earshot by the time I start walking again, thoughts of Noli forcing me back in motion. The path drags on, and another night settles in. Now that I’ve got Elemental Radar on my side, I’m making better time. I might even be able to shave a couple days off the trip this way. If my counting is right, I’ve got eleven days left on the spell. If I can shave the trip to Harrowood from two weeks down to nine days, I’ll be left with two to find a wizard before the spell is up. Tight. Too tight, and I hope it won’t come to that. But it would still be possible.
Of course, that doesn’t account for travel time back to Peakshadow. Maybe they’ll have a way to teleport back to Noli… but I’m probably grasping at straws with this one. The best option is still to find someone to stow away with and cut my travel time down as low as possible. The more time I have to search Harrowood, the better. I don’t like the idea of my presence endangering anyone else, but as long as I don’t do any more spells or use my inventory, they should be safe. And I’ll have to be around people one way or another once I reach the city.
I sweep my glass over the road, using my newfound ability to navigate the near-complete darkness. Two crescent moons are in the sky, providing occasional half-light when the clouds part. There’s no hail tonight, so that’s a plus.
Gradually, as I walk, I notice the night has become quiet. I pause, trying to pinpoint what it is about the stillness that’s snagged my attention. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. There are no growls or hoots or distant howls. Everything is still. Even so, something nibbles at my subconscious. Something I’d heard said about woods when I was a kid. If the forest goes silent, a predator is close.
A shiver runs through me. I strain to hear anything. The buzz of insects. The chirp of some nocturnal bird. The rustling of small animals in the underbrush. All I can make out is a faint hiss as a breeze brushes through the trees. Then, even that dies off.
The silence presses in on me from all sides. I wait.
Nothing happens. I don’t hear anything, and nothing is moving. Am I imagining it? Maybe it’s just a normal kind of quiet. Maybe it’s just that down here in the ravine, the steep walls to either side block the forest noise. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Regardless, I can’t afford to stand around waiting all night. Fighting my nerves, I take a ginger step forward. My glass shifts against the dirt, hardly making any sound. Yet, given the quiet, I can still hear the gentle hush of the movement. I pause again. Nothing happens. I take another step.
[1 point Bludgeoning damage sustained.]
[1 point Fall damage sustained.]
I’m crashing to the ground before I even know what hit me. My glass hisses across the dirt as I roll to a stop, recalling my legs which I’d lost along the way and hurriedly stumbling to my feet. But the hissing sound hasn’t stopped. Two pinpricks of green light materialize in the dark.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Echo. Echo! What the fuck is that?
[Check,] Echo says. [Bonefang, level 3. A species of snake native to Valenia North, thought to have been created through the necrotic energy of the Black Spire seeping into land and infecting the surrounding wildlife. Its venom is both toxic and laced with necrotic magic.]
Maybe lead with that before the ecology lesson next time! I cluster my signing glass before me like a bunch of spears. Level 3, though, so I can probably take it. Not fighting at all would be more ideal, but clearly I’ve done something to piss this guy off. I keep my focus intently on the two triangles of glowing green light. Are those its eyes? That’s as good a target as any.
I lance a piece of glass at the bonefang, and the blow strikes home—only to glance off the dot of light with a solid ting as if I’d hit a rock.
[0 points of Piercing damage dealt.]
Fantastic.
The creature hisses in response. The points of light dart forward, and I barely have time to brace myself before it strikes, ramming into my glass and scattering my signing shards like they’re toothpicks. I feel one snap in half.
[1 point of Bludgeoning damage sustained.]
Something clamps around me and begins to squeeze, producing a glassy shriek. I stab at the creature with my glass, desperately trying to pull away, but instead of finding anything fleshy and malleable, my shards skip over something as hard as stone. It’s then that the clouds part, illuminating our monochromatic struggle, and I’m able to catch the first glimpse of what I’m dealing with.
The reason I can’t find any flesh is because it doesn’t have any. The snake is all bones, its eye sockets hollow pits, moss growing between its vertebrae in a faux layer of skin. The glowing green I’d made out before are actually light from its two fangs—which are currently latched around my face. The snake tries to bite down, its teeth skipping over my glass, but it’s having as much trouble finding purchase as I am. Hah! Take that, asshole. Can’t poison someone who isn’t made of flesh and blood. My glass creaks as it adjusts its grip.
[2 points of Crushing damage sustained.]
Oh. Well. There’s always that.
I stab my glass into all the tiny holes that pockmark its skull and shove with all my might. The bonefang jerks back, releasing my flask, but I keep pushing on the glass, driving its face into the ground.
[3 points of Piercing damage dealt.]
Fuck yeah, that’s right! I was just minding my own business, trying to walk down this stupid little road, and then you just had to decide to make it a whole thing. Was this what you wanted? Does this make you happy? Congratulations, now we’re—
The snake lashes out with its tail, clipping my side and rattling my mind.
[1 point of Slashing damage sustained.]
My hold on the glass slips, and it shakes its head, dislodging the shards. Shit. I quickly gather them up, retreating as I reform my defenses. The snake coils in on itself, bones dragging over bones. How do you kill something that’s already dead?
I Check my HP: 6/10, Bonus HP: 23. Okay so, not stellar, but not about to die. That’s something. I Check the bonefang, too: 7/10. Alright, I’ve got the upper hand, then. Still, I’d rather not keep trading blows like this. For my HP’s sake, I need to end this fight quickly.
The snake strikes again, and this time I’m ready for it. I squat to the ground and it flies right over me. I stab upward with all my glass, slicing through the mossy exterior and catching it between two vertebrae. Swinging my glass around, I slam its spine into the ground, and I feel something give. My glass sinks into the dirt beneath the bonefang as its spine parts beneath the blow.
[3 points of Slashing damage dealt.]
[4 points of Bludgeoning damage dealt.]
[Bonefang defeated!]
The animal convulses, its two halves writhing in final death throes, and I flinch back in horror. The felis. The dracid. Flashes of blood, snippets of screams—No! no, this is different, this was self-defense. I didn’t want to. I didn’t enjoy it.
But I still feel sick. Any sense of victory or relief is snuffed out by memories of the predator.
I guess I’m still alive. With the bonefang dealt with, I can keep moving forward, at least. That’s something.
Before I can even collect myself, a hush blows through the night. It sounds like wind, at first. But I don’t feel a breeze, and instead of rising and falling, the hissing sound only grows. One by one, pinpoints of light blink on in the dark.
Unease prickles over me. Echo. Check.
[Check,] Echo says, and a cluster of overlaying messages simultaneously surface in my vision before me.
[Bonefang, level 2. Bonefang, level 4. Bonefang, level 1. Greater Bonefang, level 10. Bonefang, level 5. Bonefang, level 7. Bonefang, level 3. Bonefang, level 6.]
The notifications don’t stop. There are dozens of them—maybe hundreds. Too many to count, and certainly too many to fight. That level 3 was already a lot for me. I wouldn’t stand a chance against a level 7, let alone whatever the fuck a Greater Bonefang is. Let alone a dozen of them.
I want to laugh, and I can’t tell if it’s from fear or irony. Of course there’s more. The forest wouldn’t have gone silent from one level 3 snake. It was a whole den of them, and somehow I’d stumbled right into their nest.
I take a step back. The hissing grows, the glowing fangs pressing in. There’s so many of them—too many. Dim resignation settles over me. If I die here, at least the predator can’t use me anymore.
No. I can’t think like that. I still have to save Noli. She’s stuck in a storage room in Peakshadow, and if I don’t find help and bring it back, then no one will. If I die here, so does she.
Which means I have to do whatever it takes to escape.
I backpedal as the snakes close in, thousands of bones scraping over the dirt in susurration. I break into a run.
I’ve never run with this body before. I didn’t even know if it could. Keeping upright is usually enough of a struggle, and falling at this speed is not likely to go over well with my already criminally low HP. But fleeing is the only hope I’ve got.
The nearest bonefang strikes, and I know I won’t have time to escape it, so I just react. I pull the largest piece of Attuned glass from my inventory, manifesting it between the snake and myself.
[5 points of Bludgeoning damage dealt.]
I feel the bonefang crash into the chunk of glass, I hear it crunch, but I don’t stop running. My glass orbits me like a moon.
More snakes come at me. I desperately pull a second piece from my inventory. My signing glass is useless—too small and delicate for combat. But the large chunks of glass from the broken homunculus are withstanding the blows—for now. I whip them around, smashing into any snakes within reach.
The bonefangs are getting closer. I can only deflect so many at once. I consider pulling a third piece of glass from my inventory, but since I’d started with my biggest, every shard I remove is smaller than the last.
Then, the onslaught ends. Just as abruptly as it began, the wave of snakes recedes, lights pulling back into the dark, the scraping of bone on stone dissolving into the night. Gradually, I slow down. Then, I stop. The snakes are gone.
At least I didn’t take any more damage. It will be an hour before I passively heal up all the way. But without spending my time Attuning or Chaining or Sculpting, there isn’t much for me to do—which sucks considering all the Mana I have to work with now.
I look back in the direction of the bonefangs. I still needed to get through there, one way or another. Maybe they’re nocturnal, and I can just walk straight on through in the morning. I hate the idea of spending the whole night waiting, however. I turn my attention to the sides of the ravine.
The walls are steep, but I climbed steeper back in Trenevalt’s cabin. I suppose a detour isn’t ideal, but it’s better than wasting the whole night. I stalk over to one of the slopes, feeling my way with the glass. The two large pieces don’t help me sense the ground that well, but now that they’re out, I’m not putting them back. No sense in donating 2% to the Void.
I take it one step at a time, sinking each leg of glass carefully into the dirt and waiting to make sure it’s stable before taking the next step. The ground is loose here. Shifting. It’s like climbing up a sand dune, and each step is steeper than the last. My “Climbing” skill doesn’t seem to be helping at all, but at least I’m making progress. I can barely make out the ground below me in the sliver of moonlight; I think I’m a good four feet up.
Okay, yes, I’m now realizing what little progress that actually sounds like, but when you’re less than three inches tall, it’s a pretty significant height. That said, I’ve still got another ten feet to go.
I steadily climb my way up the incline, slipping incrementally back through the dirt with each step. The wall’s nearly vertical now; I must be seven feet up. I lift another foot.
And I can feel my vial start to roll out of my legs. I jerk forward, trying to press myself against the wall, but this only makes it worse. My vial tips back. My soul lurches as gravity takes hold—
I slam the two large pieces of glass forward, knocking me back into my legs and pinning myself against the wall.
[1 point of Bludgeoning damage self-inflicted.]
Thanks, Echo.
But at least I’m not falling. Definitely would have taken more than one point of damage skipping back down this slope. Carefully, I let up the pressure on the glass holding me in my legs, just enough for me to stand. I slowly begin climbing once more, this time splitting my attention between finding footholds and keeping my body from falling out and rolling down the slope.
It’s only another couple of steps before my progress grinds to a halt. This part of the ravine is completely vertical, and the dirt is far too soft. Each step I take cuts through the soil and sends a scattering of pebbles tumbling down the slope beneath me. I push ahead anyway, trying to force myself upward—and the ground gives way beneath me. I hurriedly use the large pieces of glass to push myself into the wall and stop myself from getting caught in the miniature rockslide. The dirt and pebbles hiss away beneath me for a minute before the cascade slows to a stop. Luckily, it didn’t carry me down, too. Unluckily, it’s made one thing clear: I can’t go any farther.
The question is, now what? If I had a way to keep my vial from falling out of my legs, I might be able to use the larger pieces of glass to push myself up the last section of the ravine. Maybe I could use the signing glass to hold my vial in. But if it turns out they can’t hold my weight, that could be a fatal mistake.
I could also fashion some sort of glass seat-belt to keep me strapped to my legs. That’s a good idea actually—something that would have come in handy several times before now. Except Sculpting and Chaining will cost Mana, and that’ll feed the Void.
I guess this is what they call analysis paralysis. But I can’t stay stuck on the side of this wall all night. I have to go up or down.
Reluctantly, I choose down. It’s the safest route, and I still have time. Maybe I can find an easier way up somewhere else.
As I slide my way back down the hill, however, a hissing sound rises like the tide. Lights of green flicker on in the dark. I dig my glass in, stopping my descent. The snakes have moved: Now they’re directly below me. Because of course they are. I wait a beat, seeing if they’ll continue past, but it’s like they’re waiting.
Waiting for me.
Gingerly, I take another step down. The lights swarm, moving closer. I hurriedly climb a foot back up the slope. The sea of bonefangs flickers out. Shit. Territorial little assholes, aren’t they? But that means I’m between a rock and a hard place. Down is death by snake. Up has a non-trivial chance of me slipping and falling into the pit of said snakes. Using magic might get me out of this pickle, but hasten a future and potentially more horrific death.
I cling to the rocks, trying to pick my poison, as bones and death wait patiently below.