Shrapnel and shattered wood littered the steps of the old cabin. Avar lowered his bow and observed his created scene. “Oh, it's you. I didn't think you'd actually come,” he said calmly. “Your reaction time is surprisingly decent for someone of your size. I wouldn’t dive to the floor, though. You don’t want to give your opponent such an easy way to gain control over you.”
The shaft of the massive arrow laid out in the soil, broken in two. The metal head was dented by the impact and separated from the arrow’s wood. Above the metal head, a sheet of similar material bolted into the cabin’s outer wall had a deep puncture scarred into its tough silver body. Zolton, however, faced the ground. His hands were balled into trembling fists leaking dark ooze. His breathing was heavy; shakey. “Rise,” Avar ordered, “I avoided hitting you at the last second, I know you’re fine. What made you think sneaking up on a man was a good idea?”
Zolton’s veins flared at the question. “Sneak up?” he spoke just above a growl, “You think I'd just end up waltzing right here by myself? I was led here by that big old woman!”
Avar's eyes rolled in realization. He then chuckled to himself and sighed. “That crazy girl… She knows I don't like visitors, especially non-natives. Ms. Freeman almost got you killed; silly one, her.”
Zolton choked. “Silly? Is that all? Just a joke?”
“One of the funnier ones, yes. Anyway, a joke is not why you came, nor why I called you. Why are you here? I know the main reason was not because I, a random stranger, asked you to. What are you trying to get out of this?”
The hanging roof of the cabin struck his head as he moved from it. He rubbed it, masking his blitzing thoughts for a feign answer. “I need money, and you said you needed help with retrieving a friend. I expect payment for my work – that is all.”
Avar grinned, looking at the flare of untruth in Zolton’s eyes. He chuckled internally, “Yeah, yeah, surely. I’m sure you’ve heard what people have to say about this island. Yet you felt that it was worth walking with the threat of death for some galleons. Do you think that’s believable?”
“Well — no, not at all. You sniffed out the bullshit.”
Avar secured the bow in a leather strap and slung it over his shoulder. It rested on his back, alongside the quiver holding several clusters of varying arrow models. “So, why did you really come here?” He said, pulling free a small dagger pierced into the boulder he crouched on and secured it to his belt.
“For answers.”
He smirked. “Broad statement. Answers to what?”
Zolton’s fist nearly bled with the tightness which they clenched. “You know what.”
“The burning of Auxuth, I assume is what you’re insinuating. Do you think I had a hand in its attack?”
“I’m sure you did more than have a hand in burning my home.”
“Do you wield strong confidence in this belief?”
“Enough to make the effort of coming all the way here. Let’s cut out the nonsense, and just spit out what you have to say.”
Avar smirked, though his eyes were cold. “Yes — I was there. I was the horseman you saw with the bow and arrow; the one who birthed the flames.”
The mens’ eyes held one another in deathly silence. Avar’s smirk had long vanished with the cold pause in time, but Zolton’s demeanor impressively hid the volcanic ire erupting within him. He breathed in, “Why? Just to steal some stuff? You had to injure and murder people for some items?”
“I didn’t steal anything from your island’s markets; I made sure to give each place I received a good from their proper pay. If I wanted to steal, it wouldn’t be from somewhere as vintage as Auxuth.”
Zolton watched him frigidly, at loss for words at such an utterly vapid answer. “You best start speaking some sense ‘fore I start stormin’...”
The bowman’s eyes enlightened with a scheme. He chuckled into a toothy grin. For a long pause, there was only the noise of nature. “I’ve spoken more to you than I usually do to anyone else here in a day; I believe all of my chatter reservoirs have dried. You can go home – maybe I’ll be ready to speak some more next time.”
“Don’t horse shit me, you were rambling so much bullshit before, you best start flappin’ some sense out yer lips now!”
Avar looked through the canopy in false consideration. “Nah, I’m good,” He said as he made a jumping descent from the rock. “You should know better than to disrespect a man in his own home, kid. Go home, come back later when you fix your attitude.”
The back of his gray long-sleeved shirt faced Zolton as he headed off towards Frostskógur. Despite the frigid air, Zolton’s skin ignited with the boiling of his blood; a rage he could only recall once a time before; reminiscing Justean’s callous murder. His left hand slowed from sway into furious tension, and began to drip black fluid secreting through the small openings of its clenched fist. Avar continued on his way, turning his sight to the sky, with not even a glance to the growing eruption. “That’s new… Do you want to do this?” he called out. Still, he did not turn an eye. Instead his walk slowed, and he unleashed a chuckle far too loud to not be without intention. That, the greatest catalyst to Zolton’s ire, sent the vastus into a raging charge with his dark mist exploding around him.
To this umbral force of unadulterated rage — Avar grinned. He reached into his pocket and slammed a small sack into the dirt, and a plume of smog clouded the area. In Katastrof’s rush, several towering trees collapsed in his wake, and an extended grove as if a meteorite had rampaged through the ground. The Blackwater devoured the smoke particles, pulling them all to the ground. In his clearing, Avar had vanished. He scanned through the towering logs, finding naught but dirt and leaf. “Come on then! It’s so funny, right? Killing those people for shits and giggles? Where are you now?!”
A strike to the back of his head stumbled Zolton. He turned to it with a sphere of darkness in hand, and hurled it simultaneously. The sphere struck a branch, destroying the thing effortlessly, however Avar was nowhere to be seen. “Here.”
Again, Katastrof spun backwards with a fist enhanced by his magic and slammed it down, colliding with a dagger wielded by Avar. The man smiled through his struggle against the strength of a raging Vastus. “Acro—Acrocanthus. Avar Acrocanthus is the name!” he grunted through his pushback. In an eye-blink maneuver, he pulled a small yellow sphere and struck it against Zolton’s eyes. The peculiar ball exploded into a yellowish-orange liquid, forcing Zolton back with its optics-stinging properties. Just as he swiped away the fluid, two arrows soared into both of his shoulders. He gripped the right one at random and ripped it out – but then another three made their way into him, striking both his shoulders again, and one in the abdomen. “To answer your question - yes, it is funnier now that I look back on it. Are you going to do anything about it? Or will you continue to be target practice?”
Acrocanthus stood in the distance of the woods with a dagger in each hand. He took one step, and leapt to a spin through the air and brought the blades down into Katastrof’s chest. “Get up, son! This is a shame!” He howled at the giant’s face, and blew a powder into it at the same time. The world around Zolton began to turn dark, and his heart rate slowed. He felt a sudden drowsiness overcoming him but instead of succumbing, his fist engulfed the entirety of Avar’s head, and he lifted him. Despite the arrows pierced into his body, he revved back his arm with Avar dangling within its grasp and slammed the man into dirt. Blackwater then corrupted his assaulting hand and with a second slam to the dirt and fallen leaves, a calamitous explosion of abyss-black liquid geysered far beyond the canopy and rained. As the substance came into contact with leaf and wood, it ate away at them rapidly, causing much of the immediate trees to collapse.
Avar flinched his right foot to the falling of his shoe. Then, he swung up his foot, bringing a blade held between his hallux and index toes straight through the bottom of Zolton’s jaw, and partially into his tongue; a maneuver which forced his freedom. Zolton flung him away and slowly pulled the blade free before hurling it aside. Avar faced the destroyed ground on his hands and knees, spitting up much of the extraordinary magic and catching his breath. Much of his face experienced a burn shaped as a print of a colossal hand. He was lucky to even have eyes. “Alright… Alright, you win – You— shit… you pass… gods damn this…” Acrocanthus said.
Zolton turned a malevolent, vengeful, blistering gaze at the man. He tore the remaining arrows out of himself and stood to a brief charge. Unfortunately for his blind fury, the loss of blood was far too great to overcome; finishing the fight was impossible – not yet even mentioning the toll his energy took utilizing this newfound control over his magic. Still, he slammed his fist into the soil, and a dark bubbling trail crawled through the dirt towards Avar. Alas, it stopped short. “Relax; I already said you passed… maybe not in a stealth role, but as muscle could work.”
“I’m a bug’s sneeze ‘way from makin’ a noose of yer tongue and fittin’ it strangle-tight ‘round ya throat, Avar!”
“Not pleased by what you accomplished? I said you’re good enough to enter initiation.”
“Don’t play wid me! What the hella’ talkin’ ‘bout?! You– you surely don’t think I’m gonna just join you and your ilk’s shit after you done brought disaster to my home?!”
He appeared confused; earnestly perplexed. “You’re actually upset about that? Why? Don’t you think you should be thanking me?”
Zolton’s gums began to bleed with the tightness at which they clenched. He opened his mouth to speak, but only dumbfounded breaths and fury left his maw.
“Thanks to us the Grand Navy and other kingdoms are less likely to want to claim Auxuth as under them – at least in the sense they’ve been warded off for a little while longer. Thanks to us, you and whoever you love there isn’t in their hands; their control. Your people still hold ultimate sovereignty; a self-governing body. Not to mention the place is beautiful. What do you have to be mad about? You think if a foreign power waltzed over there, they wouldn’t lay waste to the Auxuth population, destroying any and every building for their own? Sure it’s unfortunate some lives were lost, but would you rather a handful or all of them? Then after all are expunged, they wipe your infrastructure; your history. All gone, replaced by their own. Would you have preferred that?”
“The place was finally becoming something for once, after so many years! Then you come along and decide you get to play god, making the call on who and what is worthwhile? You fuckhead, you aren’t shit! You’re an insignificant nothing like the rest of us! Who the hell do you think you are?!”
“What’s going on here?”
Trekking from the way of Frostskógur was a fair-skinned man with his hands resting in his pockets. Crew cut, almost sun-blond hair sat on his head, and a scar ran across his left eye, though it did not appear to have damaged the silver-colored orb. Despite the frigid climate, only black shorts and a white, normal-sleeved shirt covered him. He paused for a brief – yet noticeable – moment when his eyes caught Zolton, but he said nothing. The man then turned attention to Avar. “Y’all having fun?” he spoke satirically as he observed the destruction laid about. Avar spat something into the dirt. “Obviously. You should have come earlier, Jack.”
Why’d he emphasis on ‘should have’? Zolton thought, “Two on one is what he’s thinking? Obviously, but I’m sure that’s not all — he said it as if he has a history in similar situations with this guy around… He said ‘Thank us’ in his deranged spiel earlier. Is this guy —
Zolton roared, “You’re the bastard that was on the other horse in Auxuth, aren’t you?!”
“What?”
“For men, you two jackasses do like to play damn games a lot! Cut that shit out, I don't have time for it!”
The Vastus stood on weak legs and a fatigued soul, but he was unrelenting. He swung a fist leaking black liquid, but the blond man jumped back, hands still resting in his pockets. He landed on his feet, and continued to stare silently. Finally, his gaze slowly drifted over to his familiar. “What is he talking about, Avar?”
“I already told him mostly everything. No need to play dumb.”
Jack watched him stupidly. “...Why?”
“He said he wants in, so I had to give him motivation to actually try when fighting me. We can’t just let any pushover in, can we? Fortunately, you can tell, he’s good enough for initiation at least. Also, strange… What Lost Magic do you have, Zolton?”
Zolton just — he just looked at him. Watching coldly in a vacuum pause without a word. “Why the hell are you talking to me as if we’re companions?!”
Avar stretched his back and dusted himself. “What, are you actually mad about it? Is keeping your people away from the bottom of a boot not convincing enough?”
Jack kept his distance, postured up with his back against the stub of a destroyed tree. Unlike Avar, he did not appear perplexed by Zolton’s rage. Instead, he was looking toward the dirt at a slightly lowered angle. Quiet, though his demeanor definitely screamed a story for the ears. “Are you going to give me a legitimate answer?!” Zolton shouted to him, though clearly pleading. Jack’s eyes gave him their attention and he replied, “It was necessary. I’m sorry… I don’t expect your forgiveness, but maybe some understanding.”
“What the hell am I supposed to understand if you two ain’t telling me shit!”
Jack and Avar glanced at one another. “Resources and mobility. Avar told you half of the truth. While we did indeed do what we did to keep outer powers from turning to Auxuth for colonization, the other drivers were our pursuit in land; more resources; more places to reside. Letting another landmass be taken over by some super power would bring even greater hardship to us… so we chose to sacrifice some of your people for our well-being. It was a selfish act, but it’s not just for him and I; not just Skógurby; everyone on Frostskógur. We have crops, livestock – but those things are becoming sparse with a growing populace. Auxuth has a similar climate to here. Plant and animal lifes’ a bit different, but it’s similar enough for us to be comfortable. I know it won’t sway away the hate you have towards us, and it is justified, but… I hope you can at least understand a little.”
Zolton’s thundering heart slowed, reducing to normal beats. “Yeah, because that makes it alright. Apologize to me instead of the people’s lives you ruined,” he seethed. I want to pop their skulls so bad… I just don’t have the strength, nor energy anymore… This world stinks— wait damn… “You!” he roared with his finger extended towards Avar, “How the hell did my name end up in yer’ mouth?! I ain’t ever told you shit!”
He smirked, raised his hands, and put his head down. “You got me…” he confessed with a snakish chuckle. “I am the eyes of our group. The sneaking fox if you will; sneaking, forbidding even the crunch of leaves beneath my shoes. Most importantly: always observing; learning. There’s a reason why I switched to smaller arrows during our little squabble. You should have no more than flesh wounds that’ll heal up well in a week or so. Figure I’d fill you in on some of our info — not sharing anything regarding the others, though. I let them speak for themselves.”
Zolton turned to Jack, who watched him back with an empty stare. “I’m not mouthy like him, ironically. You aren’t getting anything out of me… unless Avar’s right about you joining the group.”
The Vastus took breaths to quell his rising rage. “You attack my home; my people. Subject me to your assault, play with me like I’m taking some sort of tone-deaf clown quiz, then have the audacity to ask as if I’d want to join you murderous psychopaths? Are you people insane? Is this a second attempt at starting more shit? If so, you best scrape all the crusted shit off your eyes from having your head so far up your ass, because I’m done. Either kill me now to feed your probably cannibalistic people, or throw me off into the sea. Hurry up before I change my mind and take a bunch of you down with me.”
Again, the two terrorists traded stares. “We’re not killing you,” Jack replied. “I don’t want to hurt you unnecessarily… anymore than I have already.”
“That would be a waste of time, effort, and resources,” Avar added. “Besides, I’m sure Yazzalo and that crazy guy on that island wouldn’t be fond of having you be killed. Well, not that I’m concerned about the latter but I’d much rather not beckon Yazzalo’s fury. Wouldn’t catch me dead dealing with him… well, most importantly I’d like to keep you around. I think you’re a valuable asset.”
“Wh–what? You’re kidding… You followed me from Auxuth?! How? Where?!”
“Even a slightly rainy sea can provide good enough coverage if you aren’t an obnoxious animal. As I said, I’m always observing. Anyway, enough about me, mind telling us about that… What's his name… Venator? What did you people do to him? And who’s the girl? I wasn’t able to get close enough without being dangerously close to the senses.”
At this point, Zolton’s bones and blood ran with shivers. All fury, ire, and rage had become dust in the wind, leaving him mere silent consternation. Even with his efforts to brawn himself up, he turned pale. Avar grinned, quietly patting himself on the back. “Jack, can you give him the ride back? I think you know it’s best I don’t unnecessarily linger around them; we don’t need the lady, and thus Yazzalo, getting used to my energy.”
Wordless, Jack took himself away. Without hesitation, perhaps by fleeting instinct, Zolton went off with him. It took a minute for his conscience to reawaken, and only then did he stop moving. They were at the foot of Frostskógur’s rear gate, hidden by the woods. Without turning, the leading man, too, stopped. “I’d like to show you around here sometime – if you want,” he said. Zolton was empty in the eyes, though still cutting through the man with his gaze. “Are you two on drugs? Do you not understand that I loathe the both of you?”
“I — I do. Avar does, too. He’s just more optimistic about swaying you. I don’t believe you should join the Y– that you should join us. Still, I do want you to know that I deeply apologize for what we did. We didn’t intend on killing anyone but — they became… unintentionally collateral. The least I could do is get you to know this place. It’s almost unheard of for any outsiders to step onto Frostskógur. Normally, we would have long buried anyone who rolled up here without warning – well, Dr. Freeman would have. Anyone managing to get this far without having been spotted by her would be executed by the first village to find them, the wildlife, or one of Us. What I’m trying to say is, you’d earn a badge of honor for having toured around Frostskógur.”
“And why wouldn’t this just be a ploy to leave me rotting in the woods somewhere?”
“As I implied, if we wanted that, it would've happened already, at least when it comes to Skógurby… I can’t speak much for the other settlements. One in mind may be more open minded than us normally, but the other… The other is pretty rough, to say the absolute least. I’m not at all appreciating the lethality of that place. Definitely not somewhere you want to go alone as an outsider — or truly at all, regardless of status. If you do, you best be a damn good fighter… which you seem decent at. I’m sure you’d catch people off guard with that Lost Magic of yours.”
He retorted with empty eyes. It seems he really can’t get it through his head. I’m tired of complaining about this, though. Now – do I just take my leave… my heart is telling me to leave, mostly because of how pissed I am. I shouldn’t just act all on emotion though. It would be best I stick around, see what I can discover here… if there’s anything worthwhile. I really don’t want to but – they already know that I stay with Yazzalo, so they’ll be following me regardless. Maybe I’ll pick up something I can use on them later. “Yeah, that,” he replied while intentionally avoiding eye contact. “You know what, Jack — I’ll take you up on your offer. If you haven’t changed your mind, that is. I guess it would be worthwhile to take in the scenery of a place as reclusive as… Frostskógur? That’s the name of the island, not the village, correct?”
“Yep,” the man nodded, “I’m glad you came around. I hope I can mend our relations as much as I can. Any primary preference?”
“Wherever you see fit.”
“Great… we’ll stop at Dr. Freeman so she can clean your wounds out. Don’t want you succumbing to an infection or something. You’re holding up surprisingly well for taking on such an assault, you know? Guess that’s to be expected of a vastus descendant… right?”
“She’s an actual doctor? I thought she was just being sassy.”
“Nah, Dr. Freeman’s good people. Kind of eccentric, but she means well… more often than not.”
“Your renowned doctor led me to a guy who introduced himself by taking credit for a deadly attack on my home — with you as his accomplice. Not sure I’m ready to consider any of you ‘good people.’”
“I— I did say ‘most of the time… alright, you’re pulling my leg here… do you like fighting?’”
Skepticism poisoned Zolton. “When I have to… or at least when I think I do, evidently enough.”
“Good,” Jack sighed, “Are you a night person?”
“N–no? Maybe?”
“Fascinated by vampires?”
“The hells’a vampire?”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“You’re joking right? You know, like in folktales, the bat-people? They usually burn in the sun, quite agile, very murderous since they have to drink human blood to live. Usually they have a lair or something… and they can become bats. You know, that?"
“There are a lot of crazy things in this world, but I don’t think these ‘vampires,’ as you call them, made it.”
“Really? A person who siphons blood from others to drink, thrives in the night, but is weakened by sunlight is too much for you to believe despite living in a world with monstrous abominations hidden in the sea? Winged demon-women screeching at you from the skies? Mutant fish-people?”
“I feel like you made up those last two.”
“Nope! One voyage into the dark sea will open your eyes… hopefully not wider than a normal human’s.”
Zolton was frankly surprised. “You can actually go in there?”
“Yep – don’t bother if you aren’t with the most reliable people, your greatest ship, and a monsoon of supplies, though. We used to go there a few times a year, maybe every other month, but haven’t been in some time now since our group experienced a lot of… deconstruction.”
“The arrest. Considering what you people do, I can’t say I’m surprised or empathetic. Seems like he deserved it, as do you.”
“Fair,” Jack smirked. “Back to the vampire — yes, there is one here. Closest place you used to find ‘em was around Blóðuppgjör. It wasn’t called that at first, but… things happened. Some things that bring in some money, at least.”
“I–I’m sorry, can you run that by me one more time? You seemed cryptic about it but I could not repeat whatever you just said if you paid me.”
“‘Blowed-oop-gur,’ and put it all together. That’s how you’d pronounce it correctly in our language. However, Blóðuppgjör used to be nothing more than an alias. Its first and true name was called Fjallfæti – Fall-Feigh-tee, if you will – at first, meaning Mountain’s Foot. As you likely guessed, it’s located close to the foot of the mountain – specifically the greatest one on Frostskógur. Now it’s called Blóðuppgjör: Blood Settlement. Not sure what happened, but the story goes that Fjallfæti used to be relatively normal like the rest of us. The original people there were open to newcomers since rarely did we get any, but then criminals began to take advantage of it as a retreat from authorities over several decades. Soon enough it became hell, then the other villages – Skógurby and Auga Björns – became hostile to outsiders. Over some years, the three settlements ended up mingling, though. Most of the criminals weren’t prepared for the strength and sense of authority my ancestors had. Most left the island, got themselves together if they decided to stay, or ended up as a head in the woods for wolves to feast on should they have failed to meet our standard.”
“Interesting,” Zolton said with skeptical eyes. “So, what happened for you and Avar to end up like criminals? And your pal being in jail? And how no one in Skógurby seems to mind this?”
“I did say our standard. It’s also how we survive. No one comes here, so we go out and get what we need to keep our people going. Hunter-gatherer tactics — closer to how most predatory animals work, believe it or not. Don’t have the luxury of having major towns. If you try shopping here, all you’ll find is metal from our caves. Valuable, yes, but where’s the value if no one is buying? People don’t trust this island enough to set up any trade, so we’re pretty much working on our own. If the winter gets too intense and our plants or animals can’t take it – we have to become men and do what’s best to support our community. Fortunately for those who cannot handle the burden of guilt — I, Avar, and our other guys accepted being devils, reaping the detestment of all those we wrong. Do I feel regret when we go on Hunts? Yes – but I’d feel worse sitting back and letting my people down.”
“So why the hell don’t you people just move and integrate into different places? You know, without blowing it up, murdering innocent people and their children?”
“Don’t you think these kingdoms’ territories would find it strange for a sudden influx of people to appear at their doorstep? People aren’t welcome to foreigners, unless they’re expecting revenue. That doesn’t mean I disagree with that belief. I understand the importance of keeping your population safe from outsiders. You don’t know what they could do. Especially during these times of war, who can tell the difference between a man seeking refuge, or one seeking destruction? Our safest bet is to stay on Frostkógur, with the superstitions and reputation working as a barrier to outsiders. No one thinks to check here for sane humans – and it’s best to keep it that way. Most importantly, besides all of this, we have a culture we’d like to keep for as long as we can, and not having it dissolve in a new land, forgotten to time.”
“Selfish – but… I can see where you’re coming from. Still, your actions won’t be justified. You’re hurting and killing people – children included.”
Jack’s eyes remained locked to the landscape of dense forest and a single, thin road before him. “I know.”
With an abrupt end to their conversation, they walked in silence until arriving at a new village, one with an infrastructure less developed than Skógurby’s, at least visually. There were no ‘funny horses’ roaming about, the presumed homes were a lot smaller, and there was no natural border in the form of a river. Instead, a decent stretch of spiked wooden fencing circled the settlement. The one noticeable difference may only be the tall dark tower sat at the back-center of the village. Just below its pointed, indigo roofing, an insignia of a large eye had been printed onto the stone. It reflected a purple color in the sunlight. “Auga Björns,” Jack said, “Bear’s Eye. People here may be a bit warmer than Skógurby — emphasis on a bit. Dr. Freeman should be around here somewhere.”
“Why is she here?”
“Because she wants to be, I guess? We don’t bar Frostskógurns from moving into any village they please, though we do usually choose to spend most of our time in our birth villages. We consider each one a family; all one community. Now for outsiders such as yourself, well… you’re with me so you should be fine. Should be. Hey, Avar did put in a good word for you. I’m sure Dr. Freeman has already told some Frostskógurns about you!”
“How exciting,” Zolton’s tongue spoke with vapid energy.
As they stepped through the gate, the air felt a lot more breathable to the foreign Zolton. No choking forest – albeit a sight to a behold. No apprehension of the wooden labyrinth, although a place of entrancing mystery. Instead, an open, humble town. While the roads were mostly dirt – with some crushed stones to suffocate any daring plantlife – this place, Auga Björns, certainly felt more humble than Skógurby, though the dark tower eyeing over it brought something haunting into the mix. “What’s that about?” Zolton’s thoughts mistakenly leaked as he fixated on the black tower.
“Hm?” Jack vocalized, following Zolton’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. That’s where the vampire lives. I forgot we were talking about that, heh…”
“So you were serious about that?”
“Well, yeah? Why would I lie about that?”
Zolton watched him coldly, uttering not a single word. Luckily, his eyes spoke louder than his mouth could. “Y—yeah, you’re right…” Jack muttered, defeated. “Still – want to go check it out?”
Zolton spat a mocking, “‘Wanna go check it out?’ I'd rather make sure I don’t have an infection, and answer me this: why do you think we’re buddy-buddy? I’m not your friend.”
“Well… well — y–yeah, you’re right. Still, like I said before, I’m hoping I can change that at least a little. I mean, I wouldn’t be showing you your way to a doctor in a foreign land if I weren’t trying to be friendly, would I?”
“That’s the least you could do as repentance.”
“Fair,” Jack awkwardly grinned, “but would a truly bad guy go out of his way like this for a complete stranger?”
“Probably not, but you fall very far from that criteria. You know just as well as I that you aren’t helping me out of the… ‘goodness’ of your heart. You want help with whatever trouble you and Avar have found yourselves in. Ain’t that right?”
“Alright, Avar — maybe he truly doesn’t comprehend what we did was as terrible as it was but… he only understands that it’s to support the family that is Frostskógur. I’m kind of in the same boat as him, but I understand your anger. I get it, trust me, but what do you want me to do to express my regret?”
“Kill yourself.”
“Come on, man! Alright – how about after we’re done with Dr. Freeman, I give you something to go? Like… uh…”
“My man, just chill out. You don’t piss me off as much as Avar, so keep it that way by talking less.”
The guiding man shrugged and sighed. He accepted the request, and moved on silently on the dirt road with the Zolton trailing. At a cross section of paths did the inhabitants of Auga Björns finally show, staring at this strange entity in their land. However, each one that caught Jack in their vision right after Zolton returned to their own affairs, unbothered. He made note of the change their faces made. They didn’t distort into one of a gawk of wonder or awe at him, as he usually gets. Perhaps this was due to accustomization because of their doctor, or being overridden by a more powerful concern – territorialism, with fear or wonder coming second. Instead, they expressed a bit of uncertainty, unlike the utter contempt from the people of Skógurby. This only changed when they noticed him following Jack. Perhaps the man was not feeding him lies – or the people were all in on this ploy.
Nevertheless, they went on with their work: plowing, building, repairs, woodwork, a line of men with pickaxes walking into the forest on a thin path that seemed to be moving up towards the mountain. With their clearing from his sight, a large woman in a violet gown rested on a chair. It sat on the spruce wood porch of some small housing made of the same material, and white shades set over the woman’s eyes. A large gun rested on her lap, and she was unmoving. “Dr. Freeman!” Jack called, though no verbal or visual response returned. He jogged over and repeated himself, “Dr. Freeman! Dr. Freeman!”
The woman made some snarling noises, cleared her throat, and stretched. “‘Doctor Freeman,” she repeated to herself drowsily, “Mmm, tastes like respect… Say it again.”
“Doc—Doctor Freeman…” he replied awkwardly…
She lifted the shades from her eyes and stared, squinting. “Oh, it’s him…” she exclaimed, though caught herself. She restricted the rise of her tone as she locked eyes on Zolton. “Alive… thought Avar woulda had you pierced up against a tree or something by now… guess you’ve earned some of my respect now.”
“You knew about that?” Zolton dug.
“What I know is that Avar doesn’t treat random people showing up to his doorstep kindly. Thought he would’ve pinned your body up against a tree by now. Either you’re good enough or he fell off of his game… then again he did say your name, so maybe he does know you. Guess that means I probably should’ve taken you to Blodoppgjør instead, doesn’t it, heh? Anyway, why are y'all here bothering me?”
“You people…”
“Uhh,” Jack interrupted, “Well, he and Avar did get into a skirmish, as you can see in his shoulder, and head… and… and stuff. Can you take care of it? Like, check for any arrow remnants and handle the infection… and stuff?”
Freeman snickered into a growing, dumbfounded smile. “Why on the gods’ green earth would I do that? He’s an outsider. I’m supposed to use our medicines to help him? You know that stuff ain’t made easy.”
“I know, Doctor Freeman, but he’s a good guy. I think we can welcome him here, no?”
She analyzed Jack’s face. “Ah, you mean you want to use him to rebuild the Yukatra by freeing Kazuman? You already have Cull Mano–”
“He needs help! He needs help before he bleeds out or some shit! Infection, blood, all that!”
“Oh, shut up, Jack. You know damn well he isn’t going to be able to help y’all break Kazuman out of prison! Just go with Avar. I’m not using my medicines on an outsider with no worth to us.”
“Aye-aye-aye… he is of worth, Doctor! He said,” he sighed with immeasurable disappointment, “That he’ll help get him out. We eventually… convinced him…”
His eyes slowly shifted to the giant-blood, expectedly receiving silently ired stares in return. Still, the message was clear, thus Zolton played along: nodding his head slowly to Freeman. The big woman rolled her eyes, stood from her chair, and ducked her head before entering the small home - all without a word. The two men stood outside, waiting silently. Jack awkwardly grinned to himself, perhaps aware of the giant's scrutiny that would soon befall him. Zolton, on the contrary, appeared as an agitated statue. His arms were folded, and he stood tall with a spine perfectly straightened. At last, the door flung open, and a dark bird flapped free from the interior. Next following, Doctor Freeman with a gray, strangely wooden bowl in her hand. “You keep birds in your home?” Zolton questioned.
“And if I do, what’s it to you? Ralph belongs here – unlike you. Now take off your shirt before I change my mind. I don't know why you even kept it with all those holes and tears in it… Foolish little wint…”
He removed the shirt, mumbling to himself, “What on Earth is a wint…”
Freeman dipped her head and puckered her lips. Her eyes become wide, mimicking that of a doe. “Oh, well look at the definition of that body! Maybe if you showed up like this I wouldn’t have even questioned you! Never mind me then, maybe Avar knows what he’s talking about…”
“What?”
She hurled the brown liquid onto him and it not only descended, as most in the fruitless war with gravity, but crawled up his body a few inches. The sticky liquid coated his wounds, much of his body and brought a stinging, icy sensation with it. She then wielded some long piece of wood with a collection of what seemed like cotton at its end. “Hold still or I’ll knock you upside the head with it,” she ordered, and began to stick and stir the wood in his wounds. She twisted and toiled it, swathing the brown liquid around as the man writhed with clenched teeth, squirting blood from the hole at the underside of his mouth. “Oh, mouth too? No wonder you weren't speaking much! Avar messed you up!” she snorted in a crowish cackle. Finally, she retracted the seemingly makeshift tool and doused him with a second splash of the liquid. Here, Freeman carefully assured the liquid made it into the wound of his jaw. “Hold here a minute.”
Freeman vanished into the (supposed) medical center. She soon returned with a coil of what might be cloth and stretched it out. “Alright, come here. I have to make sure the medicine doesn’t go to waste with you just getting another mess…” her tone muttered. First, she placed a sticky patch on the underside of his mouth where blood dripped. Starting at the right armpit, she stretched the material across his chest, stopping at his left arm and tapping it with her finger. “Raise,” she said, to his slow following, and the doctor continued wrapping. “What is this for?” Zolton questioned.
She dramatically flailed her hands and unleashed an overexerted sigh. “Like I just said, it’s to prevent infection from getting inside again. Can you repeat that so we’re assured that we’re all on the same page, now?!”
“Well – I was talking about both, honestly. I thought it just came down to hoping they wouldn’t fall to infection if the injury was big enough.”
Jack crunched his eyes skeptically. “Well – that really isn’t untrue, I suppose. Sounds like you’re saying that you’ve never had any medical procedures done on you?”
“Not sure I have ever even said that word before… Maybe with Goatb– uhh, maybe someone in my family said it once, I suppose. I guess I’m only somewhat familiar with the word itself considering who I live with. Don’t think I’ve had to endure this besides throwing some rum on a cut or something.”
“Maybe that means you’re lucky enough to never have endured any serious injury.”
“I – sure. Yeah, I guess so.”
“Alright, get off my porch, handsome,” Freeman spat. “You’re all wrapped up, get going. Now… Go!”
He stretched and glossed over the wrappings. “Is this really necessary?”
Freeman’s eyes burned through him and her hand rose. She then struck the seat of his pants with an open palm and guffawed. “So you want to stick around so much, eh? Don’t mind if I do…”
His hands almost immediately were engulfed by black, dripping liquid. The fibers of his fists blew into the war horns, calling to rain bloody terror upon her — but his mind, once again reminding the rest of his being why it is leader, quelled the fury. He found Jack attempting to shuffle away, but it seemed the man felt this hateful energy, and stopped. By only the glance of his eyes, he capitulated to the silent order, and moved away with the Katastrof to an inn a fair walk away. They stopped at the entrance to a dark corridor between the inn and another structure, with Jack’s arms crossed, tapping his foot, and Zolton watching him with a hauntingly cold stare. The former continued to tap his foot, awaiting any speech, word, cough – though none reared itself. Once again capitulating, he opened his mouth, “Weell… that was something… wasn’t it? I wouldn’t want to stay here anymore after that either, surely not… I can show you to our dockyard and get you home real quick–”
“Explain this ‘Yukatra’ and Kazuman.”
“Nothing I know of… Old woman’s ramblings, I guess.”
“I can be slow, but I’m not stupid, Jackass. Speak – Kazuman is the guy you two wanted my help to free, and the group is ‘Yukatra.’ Did I get that right?”
The blond-hair remained silent, though his eyes only approved his claims. Zolton continued, “And ‘Cull Mano’ she said before you cut her off. His name wouldn’t be Cull Manodon, would it? You cut her off, but I do remember seeing a man named ‘C. Manodon’ on a bounty board. Unless this ‘Cull Manodon’ has a letter with a name starting with the same letter, I’m thinking this is the same guy. Would I be right?”
Jack writhed as his skin tried to sink in on itself. “I– well… you wouldn’t be wrong.”
“Beating around the bush… Give me straightforward answers. So the C. Manodon guy is with you guys, cool… Don’t pull my hair with this one: why do you guys want me specifically to go on this supposed ‘rescue’ mission of your criminal bud?”
His lips were closed, but not sealed. The man looked frankly perplexed – truly. “I honestly don’t know. I had no idea you would be here. Avar came by one day and said, ‘I got a guy for the job,’ and that was about it… and to be honest you would never be my first… choice… for such a mission…”
“Believe me: my feelings are not hurt by you saying that if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout. Still, I can’t help but wonder if you’re just bullshittin’ me again.”
“Uhh– no, the moment I saw you I was questioning the entire thing. Still – I trust his judgment. He very rarely does his work poorly.”
“His work? What does that mean?”
“Well… I guess I might as well stop with the secretive tongue if Avar trusts in you enough. His role is intel and innovation; scouting, gathering information, stealth, planning, weaponry, tools.”
“What about you, and Manodon? The Kazuman guy?”
“I guess the… talker. I don’t like to do it, but according to them I can be pretty convincing sometimes. ‘When it matters,’ they say. When in such a position, that also means I’m very often in direct contact with opposition, so I am also a decent fighter. I mean — that’s how I came up at least. As for Kazuman, he’s a brute. Very strong guy; a force to be reckoned with. I wouldn’t mess with him in a serious fight, but he likes to act skittish whenever I try having a little practice match with him. And, Cull… he’s strange. I don’t know much about him, honestly. He kind of just appeared one day and Avar let him into the Yukatra. I don’t think he’s even on the island anymore, though.”
Zolton looked him up and down, stroking his chin. “What’s with the name of the group? How’d y’all come up with it?”
“It's not my place to say. You’re gonna have to ask Avar, Kazuman, or… well, I guess just those two now. You’d have to ask either of them. Obviously, only one is available though, so…”
“Interesting. Sounds like there’s a hierarchy – are you last?”
“Not necessarily. We each fulfill something pivotal – at least Avar, Kazuman, and I – according to them. We used to have more members during our upbringing, but of course shit happens, people age, and goals change. We’re only down to the two of us since Kazuman is imprisoned, and I think that may be having some effect on Avar’s head.”
“Two? I thought you said Manodon was with you guys?”
“Well, he is, I guess,” Jack spoke with a lowly rejecting tone. “Personally, I don’t really care for the guy, but Avar accepted him… I think. Same with you, honestly. Well, I mean, I guess I don’t mind you as much since I got to know you a bit – or it’s just my empathy.”
“You weren’t lying about getting rid of the ‘secretive tongue.’ If only you always kept this honesty.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be fit to be here. I’m not as mean as the others can be, though. I guess that just works out in my favor for what I’m expected to do.”
“Sure… so, you say you’re a fighter. Not saying that I’m good, but Avar and I seemed somewhat even. Do you beat him in a fight? If not, do you think I’d beat you?”
“Now, I won’t say Avar is a bad fighter, but he doesn’t often do one on ones like that. Even then, I thought it would be obvious by now that he wasn’t intending to fight you as if he wanted you dead. If he were – it might have been different, to say the least. His shtick is usually ambush, and – sometimes or – coordinating with us. He does carry surprises with him sometimes though. Maybe that would catch someone off guard. But if you and I were to go at it? I’d destroy you without a doubt, I think.”
“Well aren’t you uppity…” Zolton mumbled.
“Huh? Oh, not to disrespect you in any way, but I think it’s just the reality. Like it’s a fact the Sun brings light, or that fish swim. Not to rub you the wrong way, but I can sense your energy and it’s pretty weak. Hey, maybe you’d beat me up with that strange magic of yours, though! What is it?”
“You can sense my magic? Bullshit, tell me what I have.”
“Err, well, the surprise was already spoiled earlier when you began going at Avar. Your aura looks like Shadow, but watery… that’s weird. Do you… not know how to see energy? Yet you have a Lost Magic? Well aren’t you just full of surprises! From afar, I assumed you were a Shadow user before you and Avar started fighting, but… I saw that it wasn’t. I wasn’t concealing my energy so you would build trust towards me when we were traveling to Auga Björns. I guess that was a waste of time.”
“You were watching me? For how long?”
A long pause met him. “Ever since you stepped near Skógurby with Doctor Freeman…”
Zolton brushed the stalking aside and exhaled weak irritation through his nose. “So there’s energy sensing and concealing? I’m really behind then, huh…” he mouthed disappointingly. He faced his palm upward, and a black water magic ring appeared. The black droplet at the center weakly vibrated as the inner rings of archaic symbols and words spun around it. At last, slowly, the dark sludge flowed. “Blackwater – there it is.”
“Woah…” Jack exclaimed, “That’s so interesting! Even the magic circle looks weird. You found this Lost Magic, yet you don’t know how to manipulate your energy aura or how to find them? Talk about running life backwards! I can teach you pretty quickly if you don’t mind hanging around?”
All you’re getting is a name, bud. Not sure why I even told him that much… Don’t think I should tell everyone I see about the origins of this magic in case they have any ties to… them. A rat scurried past his foot into a rotted hole pathing into the left-set of the wooden housings. Little, wet plunking noises jumped about as the rodent’s feet struck whatever pools of moisture it happened to run across. I feel like that sometimes. Just moving here, there… then there, then back to here. It’s about time I start taking initiative. “Yeah, sure. I could use that. Where do we do that?”
“We don’t really need any special training grounds for it. It really won’t take long. Just, uhh, focus on me I guess. Maybe it’ll help if your eyes are closed as you do it so you actually have to look for my energy instead of being distracted with my physical presence. Actually, wait, focus on me with your eyes, and then do it with your eyes closed so you can learn what my energy is like, yeah.”
“So am I supposed to be able to see something? It sounds like I’m supposed to be able to see something.”
“Yeah, you should be able to see my magic’s energy color. You can do so with any magic, though it’s a bit different with those who use mostly their spirit or hone their power in weapons or their bodies. We can get to that later. Focus on the energy all around us by using a few of your fundamental senses: Hearing and smell. These would be the most practical if you were caught in a conflict. Then, condense that focus down from all life, to just the energy in people. From there, condense it even further down to just me.”
Katastrof took a long look at the blond man, who was rather confusingly eager for someone simply guiding a stranger. He locked off the world from his view, falling into the quiet blankness of his mind. Soon, many dim spots of radiation appeared in his mental perception. They varied in size across his mindscape. Despite them all being nothing more than circular points, he noticed some moving. A large, hazy black spot was unmoved before him. He figured this meant the spots may not be different in size, but varied in position; distance from him. How do I remove the others from my perception? He tensed in his process.
He converged his worries to the center of himself, where his will awaited with an executing axe. Of course, his anxiousness was beheaded, and a darkness consumed all specks of color in the back of his mind. “No, not like that!” Jack cried out!
His eyes quickly opened and his focus disintegrated to the shout, and he found himself suffering a charge from the blond man. Jack bear-hugged him and launched themselves over a stretch of the village, crashing into dirt just outside of the spiked fencing. He left a trail of a smoggy black element that dissipated in the wind. “What are you doing? Why are you— what did you do?” the man spat, strongly fighting to keep his tone calm.
“What’s the problem? I’m doing what you said to do…”
“I said to center your focus on me, not to… d–did you awaken an ability?”
Radiating from his body was a small storm of black liquid. It whipped around him like a swarm of insects, eating away at the foliage wherever it splashed. On the very exterior of the Blackwater aura, a thin dark line formed a ring around him. It beat like a pumping heart, sending out spurts of Blackwater with each one. Besides this, he felt as if his blood were free, and loose. He could feel the fluid coursing through his veins, like a river made to flow freely with the removal of branches and stone. Jack’s shock reformed into an impressed demeanor with crossed arms.
“Bursting Aura… there’s no way you can’t sense magic energy! What are you showing off for?” Jack laughed.
“I’m– I’m not,” Zolton stumbled in empty gazing at the dark magic bouncing in a perfect outline around his body.
“Color me surprised then! Well – can you find my energy?”
He followed Jack’s old instructions, focusing his senses on him with the exception of his eyes. He closed them, attempting to locate any essence of the man’s power. Then, finally, his eyes opened. “No…” he said.
Unsurprisingly, Jack laughed at him. “So you can unlock your Focus, but not learn the basic function of sensing magic energy? You’re one of a kind, my man! I’m sure you’ll get it in another go, it’s not that hard. Probably best we stay out here before you blow something up, though… You up for it?”
He thought about the worry that Yazzalo and Pyrei must be circling the two in his absence to this perceived nightmare-land, and thus thought to leave. I can’t return with nothing to show he internally reasoned. “Yeah — yeah, let’s do it.”
Jack brought his hands together a single time to a powerful clap in approval and excitement. “Great!” he exclaimed, and began uttering his old, abstract guidance to Zolton once more. Tiring, irritating, and as pointless it seemed, Zolton continued following the man’s instructions, intently focused on the distant Auga Björns for any spouts of energy. Even as the crickets began their chirping and the sky turned black, he stood in the darkness of night woods until he had won.
“Focus on me, they’re far away and I have a larger power than anyone you’d find in there anyway; it’ll be easier to find a center of energy,” Jack yawned. “You don’t need to be standing either, you know. Work smarter… not harder.” Jack was slumped against the foot of a tree by the support of his elbow, observing with heavy eyes, valiantly battling the spirits of slumber which sought to drown him. I don’t need to take the easy way out, Zolton spat furiously in his thoughts, and remained unmoved – much to Jack’s irritation, though he hid his annoyance expertly… or he was too tired to show it. Some time passed – likely hours – and the darkness of night seemed to be ever-potent. The dark sky was littered with little specks of light – stars, surely. Strangely, while most of the stars were stationary as they often are, a few were moving with frightening speed across the dark abyss of the sky. “What’s going on…” Zolton mumbled.
Twas when he realized that his body was laying sideways against the soil, and that he was not looking at the star-splashed night sky above him, but Auga Björns through a lens of darkness. Within the dark, little specks of varying colors. His heart raced and he leapt on his hands and feet. He turned to Jack, finding the snoring man to be the one emitting the overwhelming, dark energy, and jumped to his feet. “Damn it, yes!” he roared out, “Finally – yes! Shit! Yeah!”
Startled from his slumber, Jack looked about frantically, and began clapping with not a clue as to why he was. Nevertheless, he celebrated, incessantly clashing his hands together.