Ak’ah’hir trembled in excitement.
All of his life, he had heard the great stories of his clan. How his ancestors, through strength of will and arm, as well as with uncomparable brutality, conquered their planet. And as a reward, the universe granted them even more enemies to conquer. These new enemies were more powerful than anything they had ever seen before, different in ways his ancestors could scarcely comprehend.
But they could still be killed.
And so kill them they did, gaining power with their brutality. Generations passed, each stronger than the one before, and clan Ah’hir soon ruled the world again, the new enemies no match for their power. At the lack of any challenge, the clan’s rate of growth slowed -- but always, the universe advances. It gave them another gift: the chance to go to a new world, an entirely new opportunity for power and enemies. Clan Ah’hir leapt at the chance.
But this new world was not like their own. The enemies here were stronger, and the environment was not suited to the clan’s normal hunting tactics. The expected power did not come. For generations now clan Ah’hir had stagnated, forced to hide and cower beneath the notice of greater beings, the clan’s strength only present in the faint memories of the past.
It was almost enough to make Ak’ah’hir weep.
But the universe advances. A new opportunity was given: a new world, a new chance for power. Ak’ah’hir was ready. He did not care that he would leave his clan behind, that he would leave his carefully hoarded Numbers behind. All he craved was conflict, the opportunity to gain power anew. Any moment now…
And in a flash, the universe provided.
- Ak’ah’hir, Inclusion +0 days 00:00 hours
My positive mood from the morning persists throughout the day as we continue our hike along the border of the haunted woods. And my optimistic outlook is rewarded as the clearing begins to turn westward. While I’d rather be moving true west than the northwest we’re currently traveling, it’s better than directly north, which is what we’ve been doing for the last day.
I still feel waves of anxiety each time I look at the forest to our left, but nothing like the overwhelming uneasiness from yesterday. That fear felt...unnatural, and I’m glad to be rid of it. As we walk, I regularly glance over to the woods in suspicion in what I consider a justifiable paranoia. But aside from the constant breeze and disquieting noises, nothing emerges from the trees, and our hike continues uninterrupted.
That is until I notice a very faint sound in the distance, and I immediately raise my hand in the sign for ‘stop,’ straining my ears to hear more. The seconds pass as we each listen quietly. For just a moment, the breeze from the haunted woods dies down and we can hear a bit better, and Pallas is the first to recognize the noise.
“Water.”
I nod. The wind picks back up, but now that he’s pointed it out I can recognize it for what it is: the sound of rushing water. We slowly continue our walk, weapons in our hands and ready.
The sound grows as we move forward, until at last we crest a hill and the source is revealed: a river.
Not just any small river, this is the Alberton River that’s marked on the map; I don’t think a river close to a hundred feet across could be anything else.
The edges of the river flow slow and calm, but the middle moves at a noticeable clip. Some large rocks sticking up above the water in the fast-moving section are the source of the noise we were hearing, white water rushing by.
“Break time?” I ask. When my friends give nods of affirmation, I drop my backpack to the ground, digging inside for the map while Styx keeps watch.
When I finally unfold the map onto the ground, Pallas and Sam gather around, looking over my shoulders as I trace out our expected position.
“I don’t see any good places to cross…” I say with a grimace. “Unless we find an unmarked bridge somewhere. There’s nothing on the map for at least another hundred miles that way.” I raise my hand and point to the northeast, with the direction of the river’s flow. “On the other hand, it looks like there should be a bridge around fifteen miles upriver, assuming I have our location correct. But that’s fifteen miles through the creepy forest.”
“On the plus side,” Melete interjects as she walks back after exploring closer to the water, “it doesn’t look like the haunted woods has crossed the river.”
I look up to where she’s pointing. While the haunted woods continues all the way to the edge of the water on this side of the river, separated from us by the regular twenty yards of clearing, the trees on the other side of the river look completely natural. Not only are they not unusually dark or twisted, there doesn’t appear to be a clearing at all. The opposite side of the river is just a normal, continuous forest -- identical to what we’ve been walking through since the Alatir colony.
“So if we’re able to cross the river,” I start, “we should be able to travel directly west to Clayton.” I begin to consider one of the options I had previously discarded. “How averse are you all to the idea of getting wet?”
“Are you talking about swimming across?” Melete asks, her tone skeptical.
“Well, that or maybe making a raft or boat.” As I consider it further, I start to warm up to the idea. “We’d have to leave some of the supplies behind, obviously, but I’m sure we could bring most of them with us.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“We wouldn’t need a raft to hold us. As long as it could carry our bags, we could swim and push it.” Pallas contributes.
I’m nodding along. “We’ll likely get pushed a ways downriver, but I bet we can make it. And even if the raft idea doesn’t work, we have some stuff that’s waterproof. Plenty to last us the next few days until we get to Clayton.”
Melete still looks skeptical. “That water is flowing really fast out there. I can swim fine, but...you sure we’ll be able to make it across?”
“With some preparation? I think so. I bet we can make some makeshift floats, maybe even something like a life-preserver.”
“I would like to let you know that I am not able to swim,” Sam interjects.
I’m too caught up in the excitement of getting back on track to Clayton to be bothered by its statement. “Do you even need to breathe? We can figure something out.” I wave my hand at Sam before it can respond.
“Um, Atlas,” Styx interrupts from where she’s been keeping watch, staring at the water flowing past. “I don’t think going through the river is a good idea.”
----------------------------------------
The five of us stand in a line twenty feet from the bank of the river, staring into the water. We’re too scared to get any closer.
“There it is again,” Melete says.
“Another one off to the right,” Pallas adds a moment later.
We haven’t yet gotten a good enough view of the things swimming in the water to identify them. All we can tell is that they’re huge, at least twice as big as an adult human from the few glances of parts of their bodies surfacing. And when we threw a stick as far as we could into the middle of the river, it disappeared in a giant splash almost immediately.
The only saving grace is that, with the exception of parts of their bodies cresting the surface for split seconds, they’ve stayed confined to the water.
I pause for a moment, wondering if my next suggestion is brilliant or colossally stupid. “Um, Melete...you want to try singing?”
Styx and Pallas look at me incredulously, and though I can’t recognize any expression on Sam’s body, I imaging its gaze is incredulous as well.
Melete, however, looks thoughtful. “I could give it a shot. I doubt it will work very well though, sound has trouble traveling between mediums, like from air to water. It’ll be much quieter by the time it gets to them.” The incredulous gazes shift to her. “What? I paid attention in physics,” she replies defensively. After another moment of thought, she continues. “Although I guess I could try sticking my head in the water and then using my skill. That might be even more effective than using it on land.”
“Never mind, let’s not do that,” I frantically backpedal. As feared, my suggestion has fallen into the ‘colossally stupid’ category.
Melete, however, is still eyeing the water in consideration.
“So, what are our options then?” Styx asks in a blatant attempt to change the subject.
I begin listing my thoughts, counting off on my fingers as I do. “One. We could follow this river downstream the hundred miles to the next bridge. Problem is, that’s taking us further away from Clayton, probably another ten days extra in total.”
“Unless we can find someplace to cross between here and there. A shallower section of the river, maybe,” Pallas adds.
“That’s true,” I say, “but we can’t count on that. If we choose to go that way, we should expect to spend ten more days walking.” Pallas nods in agreement. “Two.” I extend my second finger. “We go back south around the haunted forest to find a bridge further upriver. Positives of this are that we know there are at least two bridges marked on the map in the next fifty miles that way, and following the river upstream doesn’t take us as far away from Clayton as following it downstream would. Negatives are that going around the woods will likely add an extra day, and there’s a pretty high chance the closest bridge is in the haunted woods. Meaning we’d have to have to go the full fifty miles, all the way to the bridge for the highway -- which is what we were originally trying to avoid when we set out from Carscott.”
Styx glances over at the map. “How sure are you the first bridge is in the haunted forest?”
I hold my hand up, palm down, and wiggle it back and forth. “Not completely sure, but I’d give it eighty percent or so. I was trying to guide us directly to that bridge when we first hit the forest, so unless I’m really off in our current location or the haunted woods has a weird shape, there’s no way to get to that bridge without going through the trees. Which brings us to our last option.” I lift my third finger up. “We cut through the haunted woods. Positives are that it’s by far the fastest route, distance-wise, and there shouldn’t be any way for us to miss the bridge. Negative is...that it’s a haunted woods.”
We stand quietly, staring at my three lifted fingers, considering our options.
Melete breaks the silence. “Not that I’m complaining, but you’ve been strangely quiet, Sam. Anything to contribute?”
Sam turns its gaze from my fingers to Melete, and then back again. “I apologize. Unfortunately, in this situation, I do not think I will be of assistance. I do not have any skills or knowledge to aid you here. The options Atlas has presented are the only options I see available.”
Silence falls once again following Sam’s statement. It stretches until finally Pallas speaks. “Haunted woods.”
I start. “Really?” It’s the suggestion I’m most inclined to take, impatient as I am to find my parents, but I wasn’t expecting anyone else to agree. And after the fiasco with fighting the hive, I don’t want to coerce my friends into following what might be a dumb idea.
Pallas just nods. “It’s the fastest option. And the forest looks creepy, but so far we haven’t actually seen any signs of danger.”
Styx is nodding along. “And with all the monsters running around, ten extra days travel in the wilderness is just as dangerous as whatever those trees can throw at us. Plus, unless we can figure out a way to fish, our supplies will run out long before Clayton.”
I turn to Melete, who has a big grin on her face. “Say ‘we’ll never survive.’”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“Just say, ‘we’ll never survive,’” she repeats.
“We’ll never survive?”
Melete jumps in almost before I’ve finished the sentence. “Nonsense! You’re only saying that because no one ever has!” She exclaims happily with a slight British accent.
Styx snorts, and I just shake my head at the famous movie quote.
“Into the fire swamp we go.”
S: 148
D:144
W: 321
I: 102
C: 101
0
Skills: Adjust:Self, Bond:Mental