Monsters have always brought fear into the hearts of those with words. They are what prowls the night, making the world an unsafe place. Some are silent prowlers, others thunder the ground with every step, some block out the sun from the sky itself, and some lie in wait in the desert.

But, one monster stands apart from the rest as it seems. It is armored in a gelatinous mass of muddy goo, fueled by water from the rain, from the water table deep under the ground, and from the well pump of a small desert village known as Solace. It produces acid in massive amounts that surround it, mixed with the muddy sand.

Over a dozen monster hunters are fighting this creature at this very moment. A mage casts a fire spell, and a large blast of fire splashes the goo all around. Melee fighters are trying to hack away the gooey armor. Two warriors man a pair of ballistas and a cannon, trying to hammer the monster with heavy weapons. Still, it creeps ever forward.

One monster hunter has stopped to look more closely at the monster. With a single electrical element shot from a drakyk spellshot, the human warrior made a bold claim.

“Dragon’s have skeletons.”

“Come again?” asks Lykha.

Gyrryth, the drakyk spellshot, remarks, “It could still be a giant slug or other arthropod, yes? Similar to the Giant snails. They don’t have skeletons.”

“Let me rephrase, then.”

Gyrryth hardly even looks, drawing and powering up one of his pistols to fire at the ground beside them. The small explosion from the magic shot blasts one of the much smaller mimics of the colossal being before them.

Mury, the human warrior, says plainly, “This thing lacks all normal basics; a skeleton, musculature, and skin. Otherwise, the shot wouldn’t have passed so far in.”

“How can you know that?” asks Lykha skeptically. “I didn’t see anything.”

“It was enough. There’s no changes in density throughout. And, it’s not responding to any of the attacks. It doesn’t feel pain because there’s nothing to break.”

He gestures at another of the mages casting a flashy energy spell that pulls lightning bolts down from the sky in powerful arcs. Still, the monster barely seems to notice, if at all. Its gooey outer shell of mud warbles, but it continues forward towards the town.

“I must say, this is new to me,” admits Gyrryth. “Have you seen anything like this?”

“No.” The warrior looks at the other fighters trying to probe a response out of the monster. “We need a chemist.”

“A chemist? What for?” asks Lykha.

“What else?”

“I get the basic ‘what for’! I MEAN, what is your plan?”

“Don’t know. That’s why I want a chemist.” Mury starts towards the town with a calm gait, even as one of the parties falls back to the village in a run.

Murtoa’s group joins the knight, having run out of cannon balls and ballista arrows.

So far, Lykha hasn’t seen Murtoa draw his sword. When he does, it’s in a spectacular swing with a forward dash. His power is real, slashing with a blade of wind that cuts deep into the behemoth. With anything else, it could be believed that Murtoa of Lakia could slay even a nightenmael with a single swing of his sword.

This monster is not a nightenmael though. The gooey armor jiggles and binds back together within seconds.

Lykha realizes she’s fallen behind Mury and Gyrryth, and she quickly flies after them. Coco is jogging towards them, saying proudly, “Love! Love! Look’ih! I ma’e you a shocka for yer slasha!”

Mury says instantly to her, “Can you make another flicker-flash, but one that blinks on its own?” Coco’s face straightens, and she asks, “Can Bae snooze pas’ clock’s roll?”

“Do it, then. And thanks. I’ll attach it later.”

She grins, saying, “One lover’s flash, in’e crank!” She starts digging through her gear, finding satisfactory parts.

“Good. Gyrryth, do you have any impact shots?”

“I have explosive shots, one more lightning, and pure magic.”

“Nothing else?”

“Well… I don’t think we want to chance these ones…” The lizardman pats the pistols on the backs of his shoulders.

Mury stares at him. He asks, “You’re Holy Order?”

Lykha is surprised. She doesn’t really know what that means fully, but she’s more surprised Mury determined that so easily with so little information. The pistols look no different than the others; bone-made handles, metal barrels, and a simple trigger.

Gyrryth nods subtly. “Was.”

Mury nods, “Fair enough. We’ll have to hope the electrical round will work.”

The fairy remarks, “I suspect you want to shoot at Coco’s flasher once she makes it, but why?”

Mury replies, “Still need a chemist. If we can find someone to prepare a mixture to harm this thing, then Coco’s flasher will help deliver the dose to its core, hopefully.”

The lizardman strokes his chin, replying, “Ahhh, now it makes sense. Yes, that does seem rational. But, will not the Lady Vielall suffice?”

“I don’t think so. She’s an alchemist by trade, and a young one at that. We need the chemist, not the magic.”

The three watch as Murtoa orders, “NOW!”

He and Jops swing powerful attacks together, while Vielall throws another brewed potion at the solaghoul. A violent explosion blasts a hefty portion of the mass of the creature back, blasting gooey mud in every direction. Still, the monster doesn’t make a sound, and the ‘wound’ starts to heal instantly.

Vielall screams, “IT’S NOT WORKING!”

Murtoa grips her collar, shouting, “A MILLION GOLD, VIE! FOCUS!”

Jops decides to kick the monster in frustration, not considering the consequences, clearly. His boot sticks without effort, and immediately, the leather begins billowing smoke.

Frixet drops his device, running to Jops’s aid, while Murtoa and Vielall shout, “JOPS!?”

A burping sound finally emanates from the solaghoul. But, this sound is far from an admission of pain or anger. It is simply a burp, formed by a bubble percolating through the monster.

And, all bubbles eventually burst.

When it does, the bubble throws muddy goo forward…

...towards the monster hunters engaging it.

Three of the other party members are caught in the mud, as well as Frixet and Yathu.

Horrifying screams fill the evening air with a bone-chilling agony. Lives are being painfully burned out of their bodies. Or, more accurately, the bodies are being burned away from the five lives. Jops, still trapped by the leg and starting to feel the burn, cries out as Frixet screams a horrifying scream. “FRIX! FRIIIIX!” He grunts and falls, trying to crawl away. But, the solaghoul is imminent. It never stops. It never slows. Its creeping pace is unstoppable, and Murtoa and Vielall try to take Jops’s hands to pull him free.

“RUN! VIE, BOSS! RUN!” The big man cries out again, while they watch Frixet and the others collapse in piles of goo, helpless to escape and still screaming as smoke billows from their bodies.

One of the other party warriors roars in anger, charging foolishly -blindly- at the solaghoul.

His fate is no better than any of the others, and he is slowly pulled into the solaghoul’s mass, screaming in agony as he struggles in futility.

Lykha is frozen in horror, watching the warriors fall in seconds.

Kolaya runs closer to the warriors, trying to figure out what to do, but she’s flustered by the agony all around her.

And then, the moment of truth.

Murtoa of Lakia, slayer of colossi, single-handed defeater of armies, and hero of legend dives backwards away from his friend Jops. He scrambles to his feet, visibly panic-stricken as his sword is captured by the monster’s gooey form as its slow creep forward begins to envelop it.

And, in that moment, as Vielall cries out, “BOSS! BOSSSS!”, Murtoa of Lakia decides.

He stumbles into a run, bolting towards the town. He shoulder-checks Kolaya in his dazed and panicked sprint away from the solaghoul.

And, Lykha watches in horror.

Vielall screams, “BOSSS!?”

Acidic goo touches Vielall’s boot, ensnaring her as well. Vielall screams in terror as the danger now grips her with impending doom.

Jops and Vielall both scream, “BOSS! BOSS HELP! PLEASE!”

Kolaya stumbles forward in horror, glancing at Murtoa as he runs away and at Vielall and Jops as she tries desperately to save at least one. Many of the other screams have subsided, either because the warriors in pain have run out of breath, drowned on acidic mud, or gone into shock.

Jops grunts through immense pain, “Vie, Vie I’m s-s-sorry…”

“NO! D-DON’T-...!” She cries as the pain burns her foot, and she cries out.

“Vie…”

The bailiff is trying to summon the sense to do something; anything.

She’s suddenly pulled forcefully out of the way of one of the miniature solaghoul mimics creeping towards her.

Mury shouts at Kolaya, “FALL BACK!” He shoves her away from the monsters, sprinting towards Vielall, who is also being surrounded by the miniature mimics while her desperation has her blinded to how close even the giant is getting.

Mury yanks Vielall away from Jops. The bigger warrior being absorbed says with everything he can muster, “Please… save her...”

“NO! JOPS! I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT YOU! LET ME GO! SAVE HIM!”

Mury doesn’t relent. He drags Vielall back, kicking and screaming ferociously even as residual goo burns into her foot. She’s blind to the miniature solaghouls around her. Jops pants, nodding with a pained smile. “Th-thank you… warrior…” He finally collapses, letting himself slip into unconsciousness from shock, if only to be free of the pain.

“YOU MONSTER! LET ME GO! PLEASE SAVE HIM! THERE’S STILL TIME!”

Mury pins Vielall to the ground at the threshold to the town, shouting, “Gyrryth! Crack the valve open a little!”

The lizardman nods, “It shall be done!” He sprints to the valve while Mury holds the hose. The water begins to flow, and he washes Vielall’s leg down. She falls to her back, screaming in pain. Mury shouts, “Lykha! Bailiff! Find me a chemist, now!”

Still in her trance of horror, Kolaya murmurs distantly, “Sh-she’s the only alchemist…”

“No! A regular chemist. A… a brewer, or a medicine maker! Anything!”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

There’s a moment of silence, and Vielall continues screaming, faltering to sobs as Mury holds her down to wash the acid off of her leg. Her skin is already savagely burned, but she’ll still have flesh on her foot.

Vielall finally cries out, “M-My teacher! Th-the f-f-fairy!”

Kolaya straightens, “Right! Uh, the fairy, she was once a famous alchemist… uh…”

Mury nods at Gyrryth, and he shuts off the water. Coco makes the connection, “Wai’... You don’ mean tha’ soggy stankpie of a Bae, do ye?”

Realizing what Coco means, Lykha asks, “Wait… Maerin? Maerin is a chemist?”

Kolaya nods solemnly.

Mury says in his normal tone again, not needing to shout over Vielall as much, now that she’s whimpering in pain and crying, “Find her.”

Lykha glances at the piles of goo inching forward, some of which were once warriors. “Focus, Lykha.” She snaps her gaze to Mury, who is looking at her. He nods her up the street, “Catch up to the evacuees and find Maerin. We need her.”

The fairy nods, “I will.” She flies as fast as she can travel, as fast as her wings will carry her -faster, even, thanks to having magic remaining-.

Mury wraps Vielall’s exposed flesh as she cries and whimpers. Gyrryth and Kolaya approach, and Mury completes his dressing of the alchemist’s wound. He says, “Kolaya, take this girl to the evacuees. You can take our sand rail if you want.”

“Par’on?” asks a sassy teen’s voice. “Whose ‘rizon chaseuh?”

“You done with that flasher?” Mury’s response is brutally blunt and direct, halting Coco in her tracks.

She glares lightly at Kolaya. “You ma’e o’ Shmoo I’m busy for my ‘bando.” The teen returns to her task, cobbling parts together.

Mury says to Kolaya, “Go.” He helps Vielall up and onto Kolaya’s back.

“Kill… it… Warrior…Please...” murmurs the weary and nearly-voiceless alchemist.

Mury nods, “We will.”

The warrior faces the solaghoul, which is now reaching the edge of town.

Just as Kolaya is carrying Vielall away, though, Lykha returns in a panic. “I can’t find her!”

Mury whirls, “What?”

“No one’s seen her! None of the evacuees knew where she was!”

Gyrryth remarks, “How can that be? There aren’t that many of them.”

Mury thinks for only a moment. He looks at Kolaya and asks, “No one checked on her, did they?”

Kolaya’s face drains as she realizes it herself. Lykha yells, “SHE’S ONE OF YOUR VILLAGERS! HOW COULD YOU LEAVE HER BEHIND!?”

The fairy would be lying if she didn’t feel some personal connection to this moment. Though, Mury’s negligence is typically only because he’s always been a loner, which is unfortunately an understandable reason. Everyone seems to have known who Maerin is… They simply left her.

Mury looks around briefly, gathering his bearings quickly. He runs into town, calling over his shoulder, “Gyrryth, if it tries to sink, start the hose again. Try to keep it up here.”

“I’m on it.”

“Coco…”

“Almos’ done, Love!”

“Good!”

Lykha follows him as he runs up the lane and then down a side alley.

Sure enough, laying face down on a bag of garbage with a blanket laying on the ground next to her, as if she collapsed, is a fairy whose wish has been expended. She seems to be alive, as her hand is holding the blanket tightly.

Mury kneels, saying, “Maerin, wake up.”

The fairy doesn’t move. He sighs, picking her up.

“Mury! What are you doing!? You can’t just pick a woman up like that!”

“You prefer I leave her lying in garbage?”

“W-... Well, no… But still! She’s a lady!”

“I need her awake. Now.” He gently shakes the drunken fairy, saying, “Maerin! Wake up.”

Lykha gently touches his neck, where his armor allows him to feel it. She urges gently, “Let me try.”

The young fairy hovers over Maerin, saying spiritually, “Dry to wet, Agua Jyargura.” She wipes her hands together, and a blue glow pulls moisture from the air, dribbling it in a small stream onto Maerin’s head.

The drunken fairy groans, scrunching her face and shaking her head. She finally wakes up, groaning, “Where’s all this rain comin’ from…?” She realizes she’s being held by a bigger person’s grip, and she squirms, “No! No! Not now! I don’t have it! Someone else took it! Leave me-!”

“Focus!” calls out Mury. “It’s me. I need your help.”

Maerin blinks her eyes unevenly, still obviously drunk and dazed. She makes sense of who is holding her, and she spots Lykha as well. Her eyes now water, and she says, “Nooooo… Please, leave me…” She begins crying. “I’m sorry…”

Lykha flies down and picks the blanket up, carrying it up to drape it over Maerin’s shoulders. She coos gently to the crying fairy, “Shhh,... It’s okay Maerin. It’s okay. We just need your help, okay? Please? We need a chemist.”

This seems to hit harder, and the fairy cries even louder, burying her face in her hands as Mury suspends her by her sides. When she can, she chokes out, “I… I… I haven’... Alchemy s-s-since…” Her ability to speak dissolves.

Mury urges sternly, “Not alchemy. Regular chemistry. We need to neutralize an acid.”

Lykha tries hugging Maerin, giving her some warmth to try to break through the stormclouds of what all has happened to this poor being. She reiterates more directly in Maerin’s ear, “Chemistry, Maerin. Not alchemy. We hear you can help us.”

“I-I-I’m… n-no-nob-....” She whimpers, shaking her head. Lykha’s always known fairies are notorious for being emotional, but she never really noticed it until she had humans and drakyks to compare to. Fairies have big emotions in small packages, and she realizes she’s unleashed it inadvertently more than once on someone who has no obligation to put up with her.

Mury sighs. He carries Maerin back out to the main lane and points her at the solaghoul. “Look. I’m a monster slayer. But I need help. You can help me. You’re the only one. Everyone else is gone. They either can’t help, or are already dead. WE, you, us, together; we can defeat this thing.”

The fairy stammers in horror as she looks at the oozing blob of acidic mud billowing whitish smoke. Lykha hugs Maerin again, urging softly in her ear, “Mury will protect you. You’re safe. All you have to do is chemistry. You don’t even have to go near it.”

Mury says, “She’s right. We have a-...” He pauses, realizing his sample is on a sand rail probably halfway across the desert. He sighs.

Maerin hiccups once, likely from her drunken state. She sniffles, and Coco finds a perfect time to arrive. “Love! One Lover’s flash, rea’y to go! Jus’ for you.”

“Good work. Hold her.” He hands Maerin to a surprised Coco, and Lykha scolds, “She’s not a prisoner!”

“I know.” He jogs towards the solaghoul as he draws a small glass jar full of liquid from his pouch. He dumps the liquid out without a thought, and a glow brightens from it, before fading. Her eyes widen. He just dumped out a potion; one likely with a practical effect, such as energy, protection, or mild healing.

He jogs past Gyrryth, who is trying to use the hose to spray the monster back. It’s relatively unfazed by the hose, even at high pressure.

“I-... Isn’t he scared?” asks the drunken fairy in amazement.

Coco grins, and Lykha smiles gently. The teen says confidently, “Pret’y sexy, righ’?”

They watch Mury carefully navigate close to the main solaghoul. He draws a knife and slashes it through the monster, scraping the residue quickly into the glass jar. He does it a few times to get a good sample size, and he jogs back. He presents the jar to the drunken fairy, saying, “Nothing fancy. We just need something powerful enough to kill it if we deliver it to its center. Pretty sure it’s acidic, but the sample will let you test.”

She takes the jar with shaky hands and has it for a total of three seconds. Everyone but Mury flinches when the jar slips from the drunken fairy’s shaky hands. The human warrior, as if expecting it, manages to catch the jar.

“I-I’m sorry!” Maerin’s eyes start to water again.

“Stop apologizing.” Mury’s sharp tone startles Lykha as well. He says stoically, “We’re not dead yet. Make it up to me by helping me kill this thing. Can you do that?”

She stares at his helmet for a long time.

She murmurs, “It’ll take too long…”

The warrior sighs, but the mature fairy quickly adds, “Powger… Powler… Powgersmish… They’s’ll have some…”

“The wha’?” asks Coco.

Lykha teases dryly, “Imagine the irony of Coco not knowing what someone’s talking about.”

Mury is silent for a moment. He looks around the village. “Powdersmith.”

“Eyyy!” cheers Maerin. She says as her distorted mind has shifted to unfitting humor, “Powgersmish. Who’s s-sh-shay-... Who’s worbs is that?”

“Mury…?” asks Lykha cautiously.

“We’re losing her. Focus, Maerin. What are we looking for?”

She tries to think, massaging her temples. “Gur… Gwar… Gunadruadine…? No… Gua… ‘Gua’ soun’s right… Guanis? Guano?” She suddenly snickers, “Pffft! Guano…”

The human warrior groans lightly, but says, “Come on. Help me find the powdersmith. There will be firearms.”

Gyrryth calls over his shoulder, “Any luck, friends?”

“Maybe. How are you doing?”

“Not having much effect, I’m afraid.”

“Leave it, then. Help us find the powdersmith.”

The lizardman nods, shutting off the hose and jogging after them. He asks as he approaches, “What’s at the powdersmith?”

“Maerin believes a helpful chemical for us.”

Maerin laughs dopily, saying, “He-He said ‘guano’...” She guffaws in great humor.

Coco says dryly, “You sai’ tha’, Bae.”

Maerin gasps, “I am no’! I have you know, I’m’s, I’m a verr frien’ly fairy.”

Lykha asks coldy, “Bae means what I think it means, doesn’t it?”

Maerin starts to sniffle again, “T-Too frien’ly…”

Mury asks Gyrryth, “Know of anything in a powdersmith that starts with ‘gua-’?”

“Guanidine?” asks Gyrryth.

Maerin perks up, saying, “Guadinine! Tha’s- Tha’s the one! S-Suuuuuper… bas-iCK!”

Gyrryth asks Mury, “This will kill the beast?”

“I don’t know. It seems to be completely made of this acidic goo, though, so if we can deliver an anti-acid that will violently react with it, then it might kill it.”

“Or ‘splode-HIC!”

The group looks at Maerin, and she suddenly laughs.

Mury says coldly, “She’s probably not wrong.”

Lykha asks gently, “Do we have other options?”

The human warrior shakes his head. “Not at the moment. Doesn’t matter. If it doesn’t work, we find something else.”

She nods with a gentle smile.

Gyrryth’s nose is able to find the powdersmith’s workshop with ease; a small outfitter for those passing through. There are jars of black powder, firearm pieces, and various powders in jars.

Coco is now carrying Maerin piggy back, and the fairy is laying her head on top of the teen’s, nearly asleep. Mury asks, “Okay, Maerin. Help us out. What does it look like?”

She murmurs, “Flour… salt… white… um… H… N… C…

Lykha says, “Here! HNC! Is this it?”

Coco and the others gather around the ceramic jar Lykha is pointing to. Maerin mumbles unintelligibly. Mury taps her head with his finger, “We’re almost there, Maerin. Just a little longer.”

She lifts her head a bit, blinking her eyes awake again. She squints to read the label. She nods wearily.

Mury sighs, “Thank you.” The human warrior takes the whole jar. He says, “Coco, put the flasher in this.” He hands her a large glass jar, and then begins replacing the lid of the Guanidine’s jar with a strip of leather.

“Won’t the leather melt?” asks Lykha curiously.

A hint of amusement sounds in Mury’s voice, as he states, “Let’s hope so.”

“What if it melts too fast?”

“Fair concern.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Won’t that stop it from working?”

“It’ll be less effective, I’m sure.”

“What if you put it in glass? Wasn’t that the point of asking Gyrryth about his weapons?”

“Gyrryth’s job is to make sure it doesn’t sink too far. Assuming the flasher is bright enough to see.”

“‘S brigh’ enough, Love! ‘S juiced by true bedhead!” She grins.

Mury takes the jar from her, tying it to the guanidine jar. He says calmly, “Alright. I’ll handle the rest. Take care of Maerin.”

Lykha flies up to his level, saying, “How do you plan to drop it into the monster?”

Mury stares at her. “Thro-”

“OBVIOUSLY! It’s huge, though! You need it to get as close to middle as possible, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Gimme it. I’ll drop it.”

The warrior stares at her silently.

“I’m stronger than I look!”

He sighs, “It’s not that.”

“Gimme it.”

He holds it up, and she takes the string between the two jars. She flies upwards. She grunts, surprised by how much heavier it is than she thought.

But, her magic helps her fly.

She breathes quickly, lifting again. She’s able to get the string off of his hand, and she keeps her hands tight.

“Let me get it to the roof, at least.” She nods, and turns it back over to him. He says to Gyrryth, “Find a good vantage point and be ready. Coco, keep Maerin safe.”

Coco nods, “You rackin’ up a tax with some migh’y heft, Love.” She snickers deviously.

“Is that so?” Mury sounds amused, but it ends there. The warrior walks out of the building with Lykha flying beside him.

They ascend to the rooftop to where the cannon and ballistas that Murtoa’s group brought are. The monster’s body is starting to absorb the edges of the buildings. Mury holds up the string again. Lykha takes a deep breath, and she takes hold.

“Be careful.”

She looks at him in surprise. She smiles and says, “Look who’s talking.”

“This is my job.” He turns the flasher on, arming the rig for the final stretch.

She smirks. “And, for the time being, it’s mine, too.” She hefts the pair of jars with all of her strength, flying as quickly as she can. Her flight probably looks ridiculous, dipping up and down as she struggles to fly above the solaghoul, but she pushes herself. This is the most important job she can do, and she can do it.

It takes forever. The monster is huge, and the weight is heavy. But, Lykha keeps moving.

Be careful.

Those words coming from someone she cares so deeply for -forced by magic or not- gives her a surge.

Because, it means he cares.

The young fairy, captive to pirates less than a month ago, is now flying an improvised attack over a gigantic monster that professional monster slayers have never faced.

It certainly beats dying in a glass jar in the desert.

Lykha glances around quickly, realizing she’s losing altitude when she stops. It looks pretty centered to her. She drops the pair of jars and watches.

But, as soon as it hits the top of the solaghoul, a small burp gurgles, and a bubble pops. Lykha does her best to dart away from the area, but she can feel the icy liquid-feel first, before a burn scorches her back. She cries out. It’s not a large globule, but it’s enough to cover a portion of her back, even her wings it feels like. She can’t really tell. She tries to stay in flight, but it hurts too much.

As her vision starts to blur with tears, she can see Mury watching her from the roof, growling in pain of his own. The connection -the curse- is hurting him as well. This hurts her even more, deep in her core. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to give his blood?

Lykha’s consciousness is slipping now as the pain scorches her, and she falls before she makes it over the rooftops.

The solaghoul is about to get one more meal.

************************************