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0.3
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Hemlock regretted a lot of things.
He regretted that one time when he’d been young and his friends dared him to drink whole milk. He regretted that time he weaved a ‘fellowship’ bracelet out of flowers for a dear friend and was nearly forced to wed her because he just so happened to use the wrong ones for the gift.
He also regretted waking up.
Not a small feat by any means.
Getting chased by a Mana Beast of all things was not in his to-do list, however. So Hemlock opted to do the reasonable thing and engaged in a tactical retreat… which amounted to him turning tail and running as far as his elven legs could carry him. Which was pretty far, since they were in a forest.
But not too fast since he was… admittedly… out of shape.
Too many walks and not enough runs will do that to any elf, and he’d never been the type for athletics.
Even as he bobbed and weaved between the trees, it was impossible to do anything but barely keep ahead of his pursuer, the massive hog nipping at his heels as they tore through the forest at breakneck speed, the smell of smoke and flame stinging his nose and eyes as he struggled to keep his breathing under control.
Most distressing of all was Ghoti.
‘How is he keeping ahead of me?’
Indeed, at first he’d worried for the man in armor. Outpacing a mana beast by foot while wearing heavy armor should have been all but impossible, and the elf considered separating and drawing the boar away from his companion, if only because his chances of getting away should have been better.
Only they weren’t.
And the man was running a few feet ahead of him.
It was infuriating.
Was this some kind of magic he wasn’t aware of?
It didn’t make any sense. Magic wasn’t something one could use to improve one’s own physique, the mana in the air which clung to all living things was a power meant to manipulate the elements. The closest one could get to this kind of result was if they applied mana to some form of equipment.
But a suit of armor?
Hemlock was bewildered.
“You okay back there, Eartips?”
Snapping out of his… musings, the elf jumped ahead just in time to avoid one of the beast’s wicked tusks.
“Just about!” He gasped out.
Ah, athletics really weren’t his strong point.
“Where should we go?”
That was the issue.
A mana beast didn’t run out of energy as easily as a mundane creature, nor could this one be encumbered by obstacles. It would simply burn them to ashes as it charged after them. Without something to make it spend all that accumulated power, it would rampage until its energy was spent.
It could take minutes, hours, or days depending on how much it actually stockpiled.
‘An it just had to be of the fire attribute.’ he groused.
Had it wandered in from the mountains?
Maybe, if they were closer to the swamps they would be able to outrun it, but the territory of the goblins was still days away by foot, and in the opposite direction they were headed for. They’d have to turn back without getting trampled underfoot or skewered by the beast and Hemlock didn’t fancy his chances.
‘Think! Think!’
What else was nearby?
His village? Maybe they’d run into one of the hunting parties and they’d handle it. Or they might just lure it straight into his home without anyone able to stop it.
Not a good outcome for anyone.
Hemlock nearly stumbled, a jolt of inspiration hitting him.
“The river! There’s a river east of here!”
Ghoti looked back at him, bewildered.
“Why the river?”
Jumping over a toppled tree trunk, Hemlock rolled with the momentum before taking off in another run.
“It’s a creature of fire! It won’t cross the river!”
Hadn’t he ever met one of these creatures before? It shouldn’t be possible. Mana Beasts were plentiful across the world, not only the Greenhold. No matter where you came from, there was no way you would be far enough to not see one of these creatures, especially in far away lawless zones like the Ironhold, or the Redhold.
‘Focus, Hemlock.’
He took a deep breath, trying to keep pace.
He could ask the man about it later.
“How far away are we?” The armored man slowed down, keeping pace with the elf.
“Another mile or so. We should be safe once it sees the water.” Hemlock let out a huff of air, nearly stumbling as the muscles on his leg strained at the effort. Long distance running just wasn’t for him, and he’d been gradually losing ground to the warthog as it kept charging through trees and roots, uncaring of the obstacles they’d had to dodge.
“You won’t make it.”
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The elf gave his companion a curling look, beads of sweat running down his forehead as he tried and failed to keep the pace. He did NOT appreciate that annoying penchant the man in armor had of seeing through him, especially when Hemlock was trying to get him out of this alive.
“I’ll make do.” He had the best chance of escaping if caught, after all.
There was brief silence as the other man seemingly mulled over his response. He hummed, nodded to himself… and then stopped.
Hemlock stumbled, looking back in horror.
The man… Ghoti just stayed put, turning back to the mass of wild mana shaped vaguely like a boar. Words caught on his throat, Hemlock thought of something to say, anything to convince the man into not doing whatever insanity he’d resolved to. The void in his mind’s eye was just as unbearably cold and lifeless as the wall of burning mana which swiftly approached them.
Then, he felt something.
A… flash.
Like the rising sun on his skin, it was the best way to describe as Ghoti let out an audible sigh, before sucking in a long breath, the hissing of wind as it it rushed through the gaps in his helmet like a whistle, and the strange otherworldly heat spread from the center of the man-shaped void.
He could only watch as the monster reached his companion, inch by inch.
Time seemed to slow down as he tried to run back, to do anything.
And then… the earth shook.
Like a landslide, a cloud of debris erupted from beneath Ghoti’s feet, loose dirt and gravel showering the elf as the other man’s hands curled around the beast’s tusks and it squealed in surprise as its scaled face met the plate. A rush of wind blasted from all sides, tossing Hemlock onto his rump as he watched in shock.
The mana beast grunted, stopped in place, plumes of flame leaking from its maw as hooves dug deep trenches into the ground.
“Go! Run ahead!”
Ghoti called out, his voice strained.
Hemlock didn’t move, jaw slack in surprise.
‘What… matter of magic is this?’ No one, not even the strongest mage could ever hope to contest a mana beast on physical terms.
It just wasn’t done.
Yet before his eyes, he saw the form of his companion wrestling down the bulk of the warthog as it grunted and strained against his hold, scrambling as its face was forced down into the dirt. And in Hemlock’s mind, the faint sensation of warmth seemed to spread and grow in intensity. Unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
There was a growl, another cloud of dirt and smoke blowing into the air as the armored man slid backwards before regaining his footing.
Looking at him, perplexed, he shouted.
“Why are you still here?! Go!”
Hemlock shook his head, snapping out of the reverie.
He was right. This was his chance to get away. To leave all of this behind, wash his hand of both problems. His mind treacherously whispered to him. He’d already told the strange man where to go if he wanted to avoid the monster, he’d done his part.
It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t listen.
That he didn’t keep running.
That he… turned around to help him.
‘Damn it all.’
The elf bit his lip, hesitated… and ran.
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The river looked the same as it always had.
A long strip of clear water tinted green by the reflection of the trees around it and the light brown of the mud beneath it. His keen eye could see some fish swimming through, dragonflies hovering over the surface, causing tiny ripples over the surface before zipping away.
He should have felt relief.
The water was calm, and the mana beast wouldn’t follow them… him… through it, repelled by the river’s own mana.
Hemlock looked back.
He could still make out the sounds of the struggle, the river’s placid waters vibrating and disturbing the fish as he started the walk across with nothing but regret and shame weighting down his steps.
‘He asked me to go.’
He tried to reason with himself.
There was nothing he could have done under those circumstances. He had no weapons, no time to cast any spells or even knowledge of any spells that could have hurt that creature. No one could fight a beast like that without support, that much he knew.
Nobody from the Woods Clan, at least.
Whatever that man, Ghoti, was… it certainly wasn’t an elf.
‘He is going to be okay.’
Reassuring himself, Hemlock continued the trek through the mud.
Just a few miles from home. Away from whatever this… ill advised endeavor turned out to be.
There was a massive quake, the river waters churning and splashing as a massive tree in the distance toppled over, and then a second, and finally a third one. Birds and other wildlife fleeing from the conflict as a large plume of smoke rose in the distance. Squeals of pain and rage shaking him to the bones.
And then… there was silence.
As if the earlier struggle had never happened.
Hemlock tried not to think about what that meant for his companion. He just focused on taking one step after the other, carefully avoiding the smooth stones and mud as he steadily made his way through.
Maybe he could pretend this never happened.
‘Just another traveler lost in the woods.’ It wouldn’t have been the first nor the last to disappear in the Greenhold. His people wouldn’t care if he told them. Maybe they would be interested in who the armored stranger had been, others would be more interested in hunting down the Mana Beast for sport or the honor.
Hemlock didn’t care.
He didn’t…
There was a sound. A rumble in the distance. Then another. Not rumbles then, steps. Heavy steps headed his way. The realization made his stomach drop, the small part of him who hoped the armored man had prevailed cringing in dismay as hurried across the rives, the smell of fire growing stronger.
Before bursting through the treeline.
“Look out, Eartips!”
Oh thank the Mother Tree.
Looking up from the other end of the river, the elf couldn’t help the rush of relief that overcame him as a familiar helmet burst through the thick foliage. The armor bore dark stains, part of the cloth beneath smoking as the man barely avoided the massive beast’s tusks, rolling with the fall, the mana beast looming over him.
Hemlock’s breath caught in his throat as the monster charged again.
The riverbank exploded in a cloud of steam.
And Ghoti flew over the river, a shout of surprise as he flopped against the water’s surface, bouncing off it before crashing on the opposite side of the river with a painful sounding crash.
Landing right besides the perplexed elf.
The massive Warthog squealed and roared in outrage, stalking around the edge of the water as if considering the jump. Steam rising from its face, which had gotten wet when it tried to attack Ghoti, forming an angry stain on its scales in the form of a red blotch. Digging deep grooves into the ground.
“We… should probably get away from here.”
Hemlock couldn’t agree more.