Year 932,
Unfortunately, the afternoon visit to "Ledomor's Delights" had to be skipped. Radios' group had left Viryl just enough time to stop by Zelfiria to collect his bounty. They would have even allowed him to go to the stables to get his horse, but Viryl didn't have one and above all, he didn't need one. Once he had unloaded the bulky trophy he was carrying, he had been free to cast the flight spell recorded on his Exoplion, a skill that would have allowed him to reach a much higher speed than their horses.
Departing from Zelfiria, the group had reached the shores of Lake Ophania in less than half an hour. Viryl laughed thinking about the times when it took him and Radios a whole afternoon to cover such a short distance.
Along the way, Viryl had a chance to get an idea of what Radios' three fellow adventurers, two men and a woman, were like. Soverfott of Lurvania looked like a snake, he was thin and with a lively eye. Nomenas of Monferrone was silent and massive, with fingers as thick as a calf's rib. Elveria of Torre Buona in Ieracrusa seemed to be the most annoying one: she had remained for the entire ride with her fastidious little finger raised to make witty comments and complain about this and that.
*****
In their last letter, the three inquisitors the group of knights was after had announced that they were leaving for the lake, where animal bones sacrificed inside pentacles drawn with sticks had been found on the beach. Upon their arrival, the knights had proceeded with a first rough inspection, walking the entire circumference of the lake, but there was nothing that caught their eye.
It was to be expected that it wouldn't be that simple. If the heretics weren't complete idiots, they knew that the disappearance of the three inquisitors would have raised the clergy's antennas, and the least they could do was erase their tracks.
In the worst case scenario, they had also understood that it was better for them to lay low and they would not show up at all in the coming months. This meant that to find what was left of the inquisitors, it would be necessary to comb the woods inch by inch. Nothing exceptional, but nevertheless a real pain in the ass.
Once that first reconnaissance was done, the day had already come to an end, so the four knights divided the tasks to set up a camp in the thick of the woods that embraced the small body of water. The hope that if they remained ambushed the cultists would naively return to celebrate their rites was slim, but it was still worth a try.
Radios went to collect wood for the fire, Viryl caught five trout, while Nomenas with his double-headed axe had fun chopping down an oak tree to make some useless stools. Elveria pitched the tents, while Soverfott went to hunt some voles with his ethereal bow.
Around 7:30 PM everything was ready for dinner and the five sat in a circle around the bonfire, on the stools carved by Nomenas.
«You're an idiot Nomenas! With all the noise you made, if there was the slightest chance that those bastards would come back to do their dirty work, now it's certainly gone!» Elveria exclaimed sourly, while hysterically turning her trout on a spit over the lively fire.
«I don't think I made that much noise.» Nomenas defended himself.
«Dude, I was two miles from here and I had just laid eyes on a flock of delicious ducks. With your big roar, you made them run away, congratulations!» Soverfott pressed on, winking at Radios. Evidently there had been no flock of ducks.
«Because your aim sucks, Soverfott,» Nomenas retorted.
«Yes, but what the hell were you thinking?! What do we need these stools for? The ground is dry anyway!» Elveria continued fiercely.
«As long as you have your ass on that stump, shut up,» Nomenas replied harshly, beginning to take it personally.
«Come on guys, no bickering. We all know how this is going to go. Tomorrow morning we'll wake up bright and early and start looking for the bodies of those three fools. If all goes well, with the means at our disposal, in three or four days we'll be galloping on the road to Cerisia,» Radios said, trying to calm things down.
«I bet your friend with his fluttering silver Exoplion would get to Cerisia in less than two hours,» Soverfott observed, grinning.
«Well, at least he got us dinner, Soverfott. With your stupid enchanted arrows, you blew up the bodies of the two pigeons you caught and they were inedible,» Elveria reproached him.
«He must have a remarkable ethereal weapon, that guy. He killed those fish without even making a little hole in their bodies. Does he use shockwaves?» Soverfott continued, talking about Viryl as if he were somewhere else, as if they weren't sitting at the same bonfire.
«I don't need my Exoplion to catch a couple of trout. I just used a water solidification spell,» Viryl said coldly. Radios' companions had not yet explicitly shown their hostility towards him, but Viryl had felt the weight of those judging eyes ever since the group had met him on the road to Zelfiria. He had been chosen by the Academy of the Spheres of Lazul. He had obtained a silver Exoplion without having to work up a sweat. What was so special about him compared to them?
However they thought, it was certainly not by answering as he had just done that he would improve things. He had instinctively become defensive, but that way he had also seemed more arrogant and smug.
«How clever, you learned really complicated spells in Classia, huh? Let me ask you a question then: isn't it a bit of a waste to use them to catch a couple of trout?» Soverfott asked, with that punching-bag face of his.
He had probably given voice to the thoughts of all those who sat in that circle. For a few moments, silence fell. Even Radios had turned to look at Viryl, and did not utter a word in his defense.
«We have to eat, don't we?» Viryl replied sarcastically.
Playing dumb, as if he hadn't really grasped what Soverfott was alluding to, had the desired result. The topic dropped and the focus of the conversation shifted away from him. Nomenas bit into his trout and began to talk about how much he loved grilled fish. Then Soverfott made another joke about Nomenas, and the four slowly slipped into a vortex of nostalgia, recalling the days of the academy, citing the names of fellow students and professors that meant nothing to Viryl.
Viryl remained aloof, picking off with his teeth the white, flaky flesh of the fish and its crispy, toasted skin.
When it was time to go to bed, they decided on the shifts for the guard. Viryl got the second, from midnight to two. It was almost ten o'clock, and even though he had tried to lie down, Viryl couldn't sleep while waiting for his turn. Nomenas didn't even need to call him: ten minutes before it was time, Viryl joined him at the edge of the camp and tried to chat with him, being careful not to wake the others.
«So, you've known Radios for quite a while. I gather you were all in class together,» Viryl began.
«Yeah,» Nomenas replied.
«I have the impression that you know him even better than I do. We were quite close when we lived in Zelfiria, you know?»
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«I know something about it.»
«And how was he at the academy? With us, he always wanted to be the first in the class, but the only thing he was truly unbeatable at was combat!» Viryl continued, chuckling.
«If you want to switch with me a few minutes early, I won't complain, you know?» Nomenas replied, ignoring Viryl's efforts to break the ice with him.
«Sure... go get some rest,» Viryl said, trying not to show his annoyance.
The two hours passed in complete stillness, and boredom took its toll, dragging on the minutes and seconds that seemed to never end. The sky was clear and full of stars. Not a leaf moved and the only sound that reached Viryl, from time to time, was the call of the owls. After that strenuous struggle not to doze off, Viryl went to call Soverfott for the change, and then laid down in Radios' tent, since there was enough space for two.
At first, sleep didn't seem to want to come, but Viryl knew it would soon. Nothing new, it went like this every time he had to spend a night in the field while hunting. Thoughts slowly began to disconnect, a not very restful oblivion made its way into his mind, and then everything went out, ready to re-ignite at the first creak or the first vibration. It went like this this time too.
*****
Viryl's eyes flew open as soon as his brain was stimulated by much more than a simple creak. Soverfott's screams were piercing the air.
«... It's attacking us! A Ferenkelt is attacking us!»
Viryl and Radios sat up and simultaneously jumped out of the tent, summoning their ethereal armor and weapons. Elveria and Nomenas were at their side after a few moments.
Viryl cast a reptilian vision spell, and his eyes wandered through the dark vegetation, looking for the direction from which Soverfott's screams had come. Then he saw it. A repulsive beast, indescribable even by recalling all the pages of every bestiary he had consulted, was heading towards Soverfott, knocking down every trunk in its path. The latter was backing away, holding it at bay with his bow.
The creature had the shape of a huge deer, over twelve feet tall, with branched antlers that were lost among the stars. Its body seemed to be armored by titanic human bones, deformed to adhere to its lines. Two skulls open on the side of the nape of the neck acted as a helmet, giving the impression that the monster had four eyes. Four clavicles encircled the base of its neck. Two spinal columns ran along the back of the animal, and symmetrically two rib cages of twelve vertebrae protected its body, each interspersed with a sternum. Its front legs were protected by two humeri, two radii, and two ulnas, while the hind legs were protected by two femurs, two tibias, and two fibulas. Attached to its hooves, skeletal phalanges of human hands and feet scratched the earth. The beast's mouth was permanently wide open, and the head of a black grass snake of disproportionate size, darted in place of the tongue.
«We can't face it in the thick of the forest! Let's lure it to the beach!» Radios shouted to his companions.
Soverfott and Nomenas stayed behind to cover the movement of the other three, attracting the monster's attention but refraining from engaging it. They proceeded cautiously, walking backward, keeping it constantly at bay, in order to rejoin as soon as possible the group that had preceded them. After almost a minute of stalemate, the monster's tongue darted in Soverfott's direction and charged him head-on. Soverfott reacted by shooting an arrow straight between its horns, in the space between the two skulls that covered its orbits, which tenaciously embedded itself in its skull. However, the creature continued its charge completely undisturbed, and Soverfott had to flee laterally to the left between the trunks to avoid the goring, which threw huge clods and rocks into the sky.
Nomenas had instead moved to the right of the monster, in an optimal position to strike a powerful blow with his double-headed axe on its left hind leg. The ax shattered all six bones of the animal's shin, but the effect of the blow was completely unexpected: the monster did not fall in under its weight, but green tongues of fire darted out of the wound trying to grab Nomenas, who promptly backed away avoiding the attack of unknown origin.
The monster seemed to have lost track of its opponents and was waving its tongue frantically. Nomenas and Soverfott instantly sensed that they would not have another chance like this to escape, so they turned their backs on the animal and ran separately towards the lake.
*****
While the first confrontation with the beast was taking place, Viryl, Radios, and Elveria had reached the beach. Waiting for them on the gravel, they immediately noticed five hooded and staggering figures.
«Here they come the guests of the four o'clock party,» Viryl said sarcastically.
«They... are they the cultists the inquisitors were looking for?» Elveria wondered.
«Who else could they be?!» Viryl retorted, positioning himself in a battle stance.
The attack of that unknown monster, combined with the presence of those five pagan celebrants waiting for them, brought to Viryl's mind an epiphany that he would have preferred not to have. Perhaps the extracurricular exam in Demonology and Arcane Arts at the Academy of the Spheres of Lazul had not been a waste of time as he had thought while studying that tome with incomprehensible handwriting.
Radios, after taking a moment of reflection, stepped forward proclaiming: «With the authority conferred on me by the Royal Order of the Knights of Ferlonia, I command you to state your identities!»
The five hooded men began to cackle ominously, and their laughter mingled in a chant. A jolt came from the woods, followed by a crash, the sound of a shower of stones. At that signal, four of the hooded figures lunged at Radios. Not betraying his famous dexterity, the knight's reaction was lightning fast. He cracked his ethereal whip in the face of the nearest attacker, releasing the explosion spell recorded in his Exoplion. A flash lit up the night, shattering the head of the unfortunate man.
The shock wave of the explosion stunned the other three, who stopped for a moment. Viryl took the opportunity to hurl his two spear-guns into the chests of two cultists, while Elveria darted towards the fourth and beheaded him with a quick slash of her bastard sword.
«They can also be used as rifles, but I always forget to shoot,» Viryl observed, telekinetically recalling the two spears into his hands.
The fifth cultist lowered his hood, raised his crazed gaze to the faint light of the Green Moon, and began to applaud and rave in ecstasy: «Well done, don't stop, well done! Pour the blood of my brothers on the shores of this lake, in sacrifice to the Lord of the Woods!»
New groans of felled trunks came from the forest, and the three knights turned to find out what had caused them. The deer had increased in size: it was now almost sixty feet tall, and towered horribly over the faded tops of the plum and elm trees.
An ethereal arrow whistled out of the woods and pierced the last cultist in the left shoulder, forcing him to stop his applause.
«What the fuck are you laughing at?!» Soverfott burst out as he emerged from the thicket along with Nomenas, a hundred yards apart.
The heretic pulled the arrow that had injured his subclavian artery from his shoulder, and while blood gushed down his wounded arm, his frenzy did not subside and he continued to laugh uncontrollably.
The deer began to move towards the lake, and with each step, the earth trembled. When it had reached the beach, the snake hanging from its mouth waved softly towards Soverfott and fixed on him, who was still facing the mad cultist.
Radios shouted at him: «Soverfott, watch out for the snake! It's about to bite you!» and Soverfott jumped forward to avoid the sudden flick of the snake's neck.
But things went very differently than expected.
A cascade of disruptive green flames poured down from the deer's mouth and extended well beyond the point Soverfott had thought was safe.
Soverfott, engulfed in flames, immediately ran out of the burning area, but the green fire held him tenaciously wrapped. He screamed desperately in the burning pain, and the heretic echoed him, laughing louder and louder.
«Throw yourself into the lake!» Radios shouted, and Soverfott, who had already had the same idea, jumped into the water. This only served to shorten his suffering, because as soon as he passed the shoreline, the flames flared even stronger, devouring his flesh and leaving only his white skeleton shining under the green light of the moon.
The heretic's laughter faded. He was languishing from blood loss. In a last gasp to the sky, before falling lifeless, he said: «Oh, Feneroth, glorious Feneroth... may your immense soul welcome me into your verdant pastures…»
The other three knights of the Order of Ferlonia were as if in a trance, rendered completely helpless by the surreal and terrible scene that had unfolded before their eyes. But not Viryl.
Viryl was now certain of the nature of the enemy. It was a Fearkan, an entity that until then he had considered nothing more than a grotesque figment of vivid human imagination. How foolish he had been: he had seen it himself, ten years earlier, rise from those same shores during the night of St. John.
But this time, to see the morning light again, he would have to come out of that fierce battle with his head held high.