The creature collapsed, Mikal being dragged down with it by the axe handle, which he still gripped with a death grip. He landed on top of the creature, and a prompt appeared to the side in his vision.
Mikal rolled off the large creature and lay beside it, panting. As he lay there, he felt tears rolling down the side of his face; his face scrunched as his diaphragm spasmed. The relief of being alive, mixed with the tension ebbing out of his body, was too much, and he began sobbing. Curling into a ball facing away from the being he had just murdered, he lay there, quietly sobbing.
He felt something warm pool against his back, but he did not have the strength to move away from the puddle of blood leaking from the being.
He looked to the prompt in his vision.
Congratulations! You have defeated Hrazak Hunter Level 7. Companion has successfully absorbed essence, aspects, and records.
"Congratulations." The word felt mocking, horrid. He was being congratulated for murder. What was this place he found himself in? How can what had just happened be something to be congratulated for? How could killing be celebrated like this?
Not really wanting to, but feeling like he had to know, he brought up the information for the Hrazak hunter he had killed.
Hrazak Hunter Level 7 Species, Race, Subtype Hrazak, Arcem, n/a Condition Dead Description A young, newly initiated Arcem Hrazak hunter.
That did not make him feel better, but he continued on, bringing up the general information on the Hrazak.
Species Information Name Hrazak Description The Hrazak are a race of nomads, towering between 2.5 to 3.5 meters tall. Their society is built on strength, combat prowess, and ancestral veneration. Governed by a matriarchal tribal system, they are fiercely independent, territorial, and known for their aggressive temperament. Their culture emphasizes the importance of hunting and combat, with a diet consisting mainly of large game. Hrazak adapt well to their environment and often exhibit physical traits telling of their habitats. Hrazak do not mix well with other races and are fierce foes. Take care not to anger a Hrazak matriarch.
The Hrazak hunter had tried to speak to him, so he knew it was a sentient being, but the information on their species mentioning societies and religion really drove the point home. His sobs had stopped while reading the interface, his tears now rolling down in silence.
When he killed the venomspike he had already decided that he would not shy away from killing for his own survival. But killing something with the intelligence and awareness to build societies and cultures felt different. A shiver went down the full length of his body. Again, it had been kill or be killed. The hunter had not hesitated for a second in shooting at him. He was beginning to realize that killing was just a part of life here. He wondered again why his aversion was so strong. Why did it impact him so?
He sat up on one elbow, looking at the puddle of blood that had formed beneath him. It was blue. "Huh, copper blood. Like an octopus." The thought had come unsummoned to his mind. He almost giggled but caught himself. The strangeness of the thought seemed hilarious to him; he could not even envision what an octopus looked like. But he knew the color of their blood? Here he lay, in only his boxers, in a pool of his foe's blood, and he was laughing at the color? Had he gone mad? "Hah, I'm the mad one. No, it's the world that is mad." He laughed then. It was not a mirthful laugh; it was a deranged laugh, a madman's cooing.
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He laughed until the energy to do even that was gone; still sitting in the pool of blood, he just stared blankly at the wall. His emotions were stretched paper thin, taught like a fisherman's line trying to reel in his sanity from the depths of madness. His chest did not visibly move, his breaths so still that he might as well be a statue of stone. The blood he sat in had long since cooled, his skin like a goose's, but he did not shiver.
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After an immeasurable amount of time, Mikal got up. Still in a daze, he found his clothes and put them on. The slick blood covering one side of his body made it difficult, but he did not care. With his clothes on, he retrieved his bag. He sat down in the doorway to the shack and stared out into the empty forest.
It was around midday, judging by the shafts. The forest was quiet, as always. Mikal stared around himself, his mind blank. He watched as a single needle fell from the canopy above and swirled towards the ground. It's descent slow but erratic. His eyes followed the stone line in the trees around him, seeing that it was at the exact same height on every tree. He saw some rowaheathers sway slightly in the wind, which was odd, because there was no wind. He let the thought come and go, not engaging with it.
He heard a bird call come from the forest to his left, the only one he had ever heard in the forest. He saw another needle swirl its way down to the earth. As he followed its descent, his eyes fell on a creature walking towards him. Its gait was slow and careful, not making a sound as it stepped through the forest. Its arms long and spindly, reaching down to its knees. Mikal noticed that its spindly body was covered in a pattern of dark-green skin intermixed with areas that looked to be of stone. Its hands were large compared to the rest of the creature's body, with long fingers ending in long, sharp fingernails. He wondered what the creature wanted. Maybe the shack belonged to it? Or had the shack belonged to the Hrazak? The one he had killed? Feeling his pulse quicken, he pushed the thought aside and focused on the creature in front of him.
Mikal looked at the creature's face as it stopped just beyond the clearing in front of the shack. Its entire sharp-featured face was covered in the same stone-like material that plated its torso and arms. Its cheeks were sunken in, the mouth just a slit that went in an arch from its jawline to where a human's mouth would be. He could not see its eyes; they were shaded by its stone brow and sat deep in its skull. Mikal wondered if the deep-seated eyes gave it poor peripheral vision.
The creature raised its hand towards Mikal, palm towards him. Deep within him, something alighted, and he truly focused on the creature for the first time in the encounter.
Caelith Scout, Level 12+
His eyes shifted up to read the interface prompt of a second, and when he looked back down, another of the creatures had appeared, standing between Mikal and the first creature, its back to Mikal. He focused on the newcomer. This one wore a gnarled wooden thing over its shoulders, like a large collar.
Caelith Chloromancer, Level ?
The two beings stood still, staring at each other like they were having a wordless conversation. Whatever had awoken in Mikal dimmed, and he off-handedly wondered if he had almost just died. Had the creature meant to cast a spell when it pointed its palm at him? Wait, could other creatures even cast spells? He hadn't seen the venomspike or even the Hrazak cast a spell. Had he?
The creatures in front of him seemed to be done with their conversation or staring contest or whatever. The one with the wooden collar turned around to face Mikal. This one had a tiny speck of green light in each eye socket. Mikal supposed those were its pupils. The green lights looked at Mikal's face for a little while before they looked over his head and into the shack.
The creature focused its attention back on Mikal. Suddenly, an image appeared in Michael's mind. In the image, Mikal held the axe and stood over the Hrazak hunter's corpse, looking down at his kill. With the image, a sense of asking followed, like the image was a question. "Telepathy?" he asked himself. Could they read his mind? "Well, there isn't much to find in there, so I suppose it doesn't matter."
The creature stood still, its head cocked slightly to one side. "Does it want to know if I killed the Hrazak? How do I respond?" Mikal gave a slow nod. The creature in front of him tightened its brows together and cocked its head to the other side. The sight of what looked like a stone mask furrowing its brows was uncanny, it seemed wrong. "But so does everything in this forsaken forest." Mikal thought resignedly.
Mikal looked the creature in its eyes and tried to send an image of himself holding the axe embedded in the Hrazak hunter's head. His stomach turned at the visualization, so he immediately stopped. Instead, he bowed his head and stared at the ground. The creature in front of him didn't move for a long while. Mikal also just sitting there, staring at the ground. When the creature finally moved, it took two steps towards Mikal. Mikal could see its bare, long feet with curled, sharp toenails.
Whatever had awoken in Mikal before screamed again; Mikal tensed and looked up just in time to see the creature extending a single long finger to his forehead. The tip of its sharpened nail made contact with his forehead, and Mikal's world went black.