The humans had brought me gifts in reed baskets. And the baskets themselves, things of craft, were more valuable to me than the fruits and fish and small trinket-stones.

My creatures pushed them into the hermit’s hut to sit before me, bowls in which they could place their offerings while I slept. The lemurs piled up fruits, nuts, and eggs pillaged from the forest. My birds brought me flowers that grew among the canopy. My sloths dragged in chunks of stone that were rippled with thunderbolt lines of quartz and volcanic obsidian. The saurian, ever violent, brought me the bleeding leg of a saltwater gharial, and curled herself before the offerings to sleep in my presence, guarding me.

The hermit’s hut had begun to resemble a simple and primal shrine…

The sun turned in the sky above, and with the dawn came new tasks.

[Sun-Quest]

Destroy totems of the Kanaka Aihue Iwi lemur clan (0/3)

Reward – Spirit of the Housekeeper.

My saurian stirred, lifting her head. She had been designed to take on the burdens of the Sun-Quests in my stead. Yesterday, she had done well– but proof would come with time.

Her mind was a razor-thing. She knew she was the greatest of my creations, yes. She knew she was deadly, yes. But she knew above all that these gifts were given to her through my will.

She assumed a low bow, dipping her skull to touch the floor. In that moment her thoughts reached through the dim veil of torpor and struck my mind, blazing with sheer intensity. She was meditating.

You cannot fail. The maker has given you all you need– but if you fail, they will simply make another.

Your body is a tool. Your mind is a tool. Only your soul is your own– only your soul will prove your merit. Your soul is the hand that grips the blade; if your grip goes slack, the blade is worthless.

These thoughts…

They troubled me, shadows on the surface of my dreams. Yet…

Were they true? My creations did not come into this earth by accident, owing nothing. They were created and molded to a purpose. If they failed that purpose– yes, I would replace them. In a heartbeat, without thinking, I would build another.

What then was she so wrong about? Why did I feel uneasy when the edge of her devotion became clear.

I drifted through her thoughts like a phantom, following her as she rose and departed from the shrine.

As she marched through my domain and out into the jungle, my perspective changed, following her from the eyes of the lemurs. She tilted her head to listen, following the cries and hoots through the canopy and crossing the forest– nothing dared assault her. In this forest where massive apex predators roamed, she radiated the air of one not to be fucked with.

The lemurs laired in the high north of the island, where the terrain turned rocky. Boulders grew among the roots of twisted trees bent and gnarled by the wind.

Their home was built from thousands of reeds dried and bent into position. At the outer edge there were small cocoons built this way, housing exiles from the main tribe. These cocoons were little huts suspended between the limbs of the trees.

At the center, between three enormous trees, a massive cocoon grew. It was a twisting nest composed of many familial huts, bound together with vine ropes. Generations had added, expanded, creating this structure that hung like a spiderweb fat with victims. Lemurs ran along the ropes and swung from the branches high up.

My saurian lifted her head and screamed. The lemurs froze, some of them literally dropping from their perches in shock and scrambling across the ground.

She moved forward. The totems stood in the cocoon’s shadow; twisted branches had been coiled into the shape of humans, their arms outstretched, their legs a single pillar dug into their earth. Bones were intermingled into the branches like beads on a string, bright and polished white. Three skulls stood at the top of each totem, staring out in all directions.

With each step towards the first totem, a dark energy saturated the air. It extended in waves– steaming motes of dark, shivering energy flooded the air, sticking where they touched her skin. In moments they ate holes in her scales, digging down into the meat and sinew and fat below.

Her fist smashed into the totem, shattering it. Instantly the air felt clarified and cleansed.

But the lemurs erupted into anger. From above, stones and other detritus came raining down onto her shoulders.

She ignored the barrage and moved towards the second totem, lifting an arm to shield her head from the downfall.

A lemur fell onto her shoulders. She swung about, trying to grab it, but before she could grab hold it had plunged a sharpened length of bone down into her neck. Another leapt from above– her hand shot out and seized its skull, crushing it to a pulp between her fingers.

But there were so many. They rained down from above, and as many as she killed, more leapt onto her body and weighed her down. More tiny hands drove fragments of bone into her flesh.

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She screamed. The weight of their bodies made her stagger and stumble. She grabbed at them, threw them to the earth and stomped their skulls into wet oblivion.

More descended.

Bone knives stabbed into her flesh. Blood filled her vision. I watched from my remote point, a captive audience to the slaughter. One against many–

But somehow–

By some will–

She threw herself against a tree, crushing the lemurs clinging to her back. From there she rolled, tumbling along the ground and scraping off many more of their number. Her hands slapped down, catching the fleeing bodies and flinging them against the trees.

Still– many clung to her. Despite their weight and the stabbing of their knives she stood, pushing up to her feet. With a final below she fled the glade, crashing into trees, into low-hanging branches, using the forest and its many rough surfaces to grind the clinging pests from her body until she could crash into a stream and drown all that did not release her grip on her.

Overconfidence.

It had nearly led her to a fatal error.

— — —

My lemurs roamed far afield. Their eyes saw the world– their clever minds dissected and analyzed.

They were learning all the time as they roamed the jungle. I had given them no special warning or insight– I had created them as I needed, sending them on missions without a word as to their meaning or life.

And perhaps, in that, I had been callous. Yes, my lack of thought had been cruel.

Their minds were sharp but they had no mother, no guidance, no example to shape their developing sense of self…

This was unnatural.

In my presence they had command and purpose. In my absence, they had only neurosis. They needed me as a chick needs its mother hen– I had been unkind in using them so casually.

My dreams absorbed their fitful thoughts. Every flinch as they heard a beast’s call echo through the canopy shot through my sleeping peace like an arrow.

I focused on one. Its mind was brighter than the rest, calling me like a beacon. I followed in his footsteps and wordlessly spoke his name:

Keiki Akamai. The clever child.

He knew I desired rare and precious things taken from the jungle. And while the others clung to my domain, the small territory in which I could protect them, he roamed far afield searching. The common fruits didn’t draw his eye. He didn’t waste time collecting nuts and berries from the branches. In fact, he was more than half-starved…

But he believed the right tribute would bring him glory.

So seeking he went, through the high canopy. There were treasures high up. Massive trees twisted and gnarled by age that rose beyond the rest; fruits in those trees that sparkled like gold. These were the lairs of massive birds that could turn the sky dark with their shadow, and blue-faced mandrill monkeys that could tear Akamai’s small body apart.

But he climbed up anyway.

Embedded in the bark of these ancestor trees were fragments of crystal, rudimentary mana gems formed as the tree expelled vast amounts of energy with every breath, slowly collecting into physical form. They resembled spots of nascent amber…

Higher on, and the air began to thin to a chill.

The great birds circled above, their shadows rippling across the trees as they returned to their nests to brood.

Even the insects were gigantic. Massive caterpillars and beetles chewed the bark, feasting on the mana-dense flesh of the tree. But as he climbed past them, clambering onto a branch, a mandrill screamed out a warning cry.

Akamai’s head snapped around– the mandrill was perched on a higher branch, its downy gray fur rippling in the wind. It rose slowly, eyes locked on Akamai’s in a deathly challenge, and began to beat a hand against its chest.

The lemur scuttled around the tree, trying to escape sight– but the mandrill moved from branch to branch with startling speed, leaping and swinging. The lemur scrambled to escape it, but the mandrill was bigger and faster.

As my creation ran up through the trees thinning branches, the monkey was close behind. Its blue face split to reveal long teeth– it howled viciously and Akamai was afraid.

But more than anything, he was afraid of returning a failure. Reaching out, he seized a branch and swung himself up, and then clambered to another, his small body flitting between the narrow limbs with gymnastic excellence.

The monkey was close behind, ripping up through the whip-thin branches like they were nothing.

A golden fruit gleamed in the distant branches. This high up, ice collected around the shimmer-gold rind.

The lemur;’s wings spread as it leapt the final few steps—

And the mandril swung itself up into his path. Compared to the lemur, its bulk was massive, its lanky arms powerful. Its face deformed to show its long teeth– it puffed up its chest and let the boughs shake with the rippling warcry that huffed up from deep within.

Step by step, it advanced down the branch towards the cornered Akamai.

There was only one choice left– life or glory. In these moments, no matter your skill, no matter how true your belief in your own excellence, certainty would falter. You would not be sure you would live if you took even one step forward.

And you would have to choose–

Was the chance of death worse than the certainty of defeat?

Akamiai shied back for a second, and then his heart found clarity. His feet pushed off against the branch and he lunged for the mandrill’s face, screaming. Such intensity– such fearlessness– startled the monkey back. In a second the lemur’s small claws had ripped across his cheeks and the little creature, fearless, had scrambled up and over the mandrill, kicking off from the back of its head and shooting towards the prize.

His claws made contact, and he ripped the fruit from the stem. Momentum carried him forward. Akamai plunged out into open sky–

But as he shifted the fruit to the claws of his feet, and opened his arms wide, his wings caught the breeze and billowed full. The air current caught and guided him out from a fall into a long swooping glide that made the canopy below rush past in a sea of rippling green.

For a moment the world felt full of light and wonder.

And then the shadow fell over Akamai– the screech of the giant bird descending–

It was too late.

The bird’s claws slammed into Akamai and tore into his chest, gripping him like an iron vise that drove the points deeper and deeper.

The golden fruit tumbled from his grasp and fell away into the forest.

When you took your life in your hands and bet on glory…

You didn’t always win.

— — —

The saurian stepped into the human’s camp, and they flinched back, reaching for their weapons.

She paid them no attention. Stepping past Maleko, she reached into their bonfire and drew out a length of blazing wood.

Lifting it like a sword she examined the fire dancing at the end…

Yes. This will do.