The Wastes that lay beyond the walled cities, dukedoms, and lesser kingdoms were a place of nightmares, myths and oddities. For the past month or so it seemed that a new one had joined their number.

It had been spotted by the traders. caravaneers, and mercenaries that travelled the roads.  A quick flickering phantasm that appeared on the ordered concrete and chaotic open plains.

Briefly kicking up a cloud of dirt before disappearing. A spooky sight with glowing green eyes surrounded by luminous tufts of vapor.

*****

Billy ran a minimum of eight hundred miles per day. He usually ran more, but sometimes there was a rock in his shoe, or sometimes he was feeling a tad under the weather.

Or sometimes he just wasn’t feeling like running that day, so eight hundred miles was the minimum if he wanted to actually get a good workout. He’d leave his home shortly after breakfast and generally come back a little before noon.

His routes were inconstant. Sometimes he’d follow the roads, weaving back and forth between ragnarok proofed concrete and the wild overgrowth beyond. Other times he’d just run at random. Running through ruins, through abandoned cities that had either fallen recently or in the ages past.

Running over hills and over sand dunes. He’d found quite a few uncharted oases this way and was building a robust mental map. One that was fairly accurate if you ignored the places that seemed to move around when you weren’t looking.

Billy’s reasons for running differed from day to day. Often he ran just for the sake of running. Most of the time thought it was simple exercise. He liked to see the flora and the fauna.

The sparse desert wildgrass. The lumbering big horned grazers. The packs of wild dogs. The airplane sized condors that hovered overhead.

A part of why he did it was just to get a feel for the place, to regain an understanding of the world of his birth. It’d been so long since he’d been back, that it all still felt just a little alien.

He felt less like Mondian come back from space and more like spaceman visiting Monde. He’d look up at the sky and be puzzled, forgetting that suns were a thing. He’d look up at night and think that two moons was too few.

He’d see travelers and those who made their bread and butter by wandering the wastes and often he’d chat with them. Just to get his head around their existence and the fact the people were actually people.

Usually these conversations came after some kind of altercation.

This was another reason that Billy ran. He knew that in Meallan if one walked long enough and far enough one would eventually encounter strife. This “was” the land of blood and sand after all. There were demonbeasts who preyed on unwary travellers. Bandits and slavers who did the same.

Running alone wouldn’t be enough to count as a proper work out so Billy generally ran until he found an occasion to do something slightly more strenuous. This was one of the two requirements for a run to count as successful.

*****

Covered in colorful rags, chittering as they jumped and jerked about, Billy found himself surrounded by a group of humanoid demonbeasts. They were called mummerbugs.

The creatures looked a bit like cockroaches or locusts that had grown too big and then decided to try and wear people clothes. In truth that was sort of what they were. Moderately intelligent and highly dangerous, they hid in plain sight, roaming the wastes and drawing near to wherever people were.

You generally only noticed their presence when you either ran into one, or enough homeless folk, beggars and children started disappearing for it to be noticeable.

Mind you this was Monde, homeless folk, beggars and children disappeared all the time. Thus you generally only noticed a mummerbug when you ran into one or a bunch of them decided to surround you.

One leapt up and gave him a kick that would have turned a normal man to mush or sent a lesser practitioner flying. As for Billy, he was sent sliding back several feet, the sandy ground making it hard to gain  traction. He’d just barely fended off one attack when another came and nearly got him from the side.

With a grunt he was forced to turn and receive it, the claws of the beast tearing through his shirt and delivering some surface damage to the skin and muscle beneath.

He felt a cold tingling that indicated poison or some kind of paralytic power. Fortunately he was able to resist it, or else his life would have been made even more difficult. And possibly just outright ended.

Billy returned the favor, venting his frustrations on a fourth mummerbug that just happened to stray too close. His arm striking out, like ornery viper. The side of his hand crushing the chitin that guarded its neck, the palm of his hand slapping the beast’s head off its shoulders.

The whole process quick enough that the matter was already over by the time the creature’s nestmates could react. Leaping to its defense. Surging forwards in a reckless attack that gave Billy leeway to loose a series of palm strikes that sent more than a few of them flying away.

One or two of them failing to get up again when they fell.

Billy took some damage as well, blood dripping from a wide gash on the side of his face. A spine covered arm, having been driven wrist deep into the side of his torso. The tip of barbed finger touching one of his kidneys.

The arm ending in bit of jagged shell and dripping sinew. The owner of the arm missing, numbered amongst those who’d received Billy’s blows and failed to get up for more.

Billy was covered with several wounds of similar level or worse, bleeding profusely. Fortunately for Billy aether was truly a wonderous thing. Empowering, warping and sometimes even corrupting its wielder.

His ability to take damage and his ability to recover from it, were just two of the traits that had been amplified by his core’ s aether high concentration.

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His skin crawled as it closed the wounds and tears that were all over his body. What’s more, His body was even more advanced than others’ would be. Healing around the bits of demonbeast flesh that were stuck inside of him.

Using memories and genetic extrapolations of the countless species and lifeforms that he’d run into before to integrate the masses into his own cellular structure.

The Mummerbugs repeated their charge and he continued to hold against them. Then he spotted movement on a nearby hill.

A mummerbug that stood taller than the rest, dressed in a robe that had either been stolen from a stage magician or the dumpster outside a costume shop. A magnificent, high collared affair, colored purple and covered in glass jewels.

Billy felt the threat in demonbeast’s aura. While the rest of its fellow had been formidable but low ranked enough that he could hold his own against them, this newcomer was a true monster.  Emperor-ranked with a demonbeast’s edge in base strength.

The kind that could destroy entire companies of mercenaries if it happened to come across them. The kind that could ravage a small town at leisure. Running into such a beast, Billy couldn’t help wondering whether one would call this luck or lack of luck.

He didn’t have the leeway to just run out and face it either. Behind his back, three small figures were whimpering clinging together, while he stood and faced the pack of demonbeasts that would have eaten them bones and all.

A green light glowed in the distance appearing in the Emperor ranked Mummerbug’s claw. Turning into a ghastly green sphere of crackling electrical power.

“Tch…”

Billy couldn’t help feeling put upon, he was barely dealing with this group of king-ranked mummerbugs and now their Emperor-ranked leader was about to throw something new at him.  

Looking at the energy that gathered in its hand and the flow of the aether that it was channelling through its body, he was guessing it’d be some mixture of poison and lightning. Whatever the case would be, he was fairly sure it’d be both painful and irritating and possibly fatal for the young wards at his back.

The answer to his problem was obvious, he’d need to use some magic here. The issue was that he’d stopped using mundane magic and orthodox spell systems around his tenth quintillionth year.

Summed up in three words or less, he was rusty. He knew enough about spellcasting that he could teach a little and he knew enough to throw something out but against a strong opponent he’d need time and the ability to concentrate if he wanted his spell to do anything more than waste precious aether.

Of course no decent foe would give him those things, just as soon as he’d begun despairing the Emperor-Ranked Mummerbug threw its ball of poisoned lightning.

With no other recourse he stopped fretting and just acted, a deep growling guttural intonation tearing its way out of his throat.

He felt a cool numbing tingle, he heard screams and cries of pain, but heard no bodies dropping. Taking it for a success and seeing the mummerbugs in front of him flying back, repulsed by the dome of force and space that he’d thrown up he lunged forwards. Hoping the shield would hold while he played the part of a sword.

Sword was a part he was much better suited to play. He weaved his way through the group striking with sharp kicks and blows. Tearing through cloth and chitin and what little defensive aura the beasts could manage.

He raced to the emperor-ranked beast and seeing him coming it leapt back, jumping hundreds of feet into the air and hundred of yards away. Billy pursued, urging himself forwards. Catching up to the beast before it landed.

The creature’s  cry was mournful as Billy drove his entire arm through its torso, tearing out its heart and crushing it into pulp.

Knowing that the fight wasn’t quite over since such creatures tended to have strong regenerative factors, he finished by tearing the lead beast in two and then doubling back. Stomping and mashing all the “corpses” before he allowed himself to relax.

With that done. He turned to the young adventurers who’d come all this way from a neighboring town. Likely on their way to completing some fetch quest or courier task.

One of the youths was in a swoon, held aloft by the other two. Still standing a short distance away, Billy turned his attentions to her but decided that she was probably fine.

His senses were sharp enough to tell him this, a cultivating doctor had senses that could compete with medical instruments. He could tell that her heartrate was a bit erratic but the rest of her vitals were normal.

Just to be safe he quietly closed his eyes, and concentrated for a bit so he could remember one of his handier spells of health and regeneration. Casting it on the girl and working up a bit of a sweat as he did so.

Making sure to remember the spell just in case he needed it for another time. Setting the spell into his memory so it’d be there for the next time he needed to quickcast something.

“Th-, thank you, sir.” said the oldest of the young adventurers a young man of fifteen or fourteen.

Heroic eyed, his gaze unwavering, as he held onto his younger friend. Postured protectively, to take the blow for her, in case the stranger ended up turning on them.

“Nh….” said Billy. Loosing a long sigh before turning around continuing his run. Waving goodbye before disappearing from their sight.

*****

Normally this would be the point where Billy headed back home, however a few days ago he’d spotted something that seemed like it’d be of use to him. A sort of treat. Now seemed the very best time for him to take advantage of it. After all, refreshing things were best enjoyed after a bit of hard work and backbreaking labor.

Running for ten minutes at full tilt brought Billy to a small copse of woods. Which were a rare thing for the Meallan territories. The ground there was covered in soot and a sort of permafrost that stank of an abundant amount of cold aether.One of the few things that could resist the hot desert sun.

He could hear a low hum. The kind that could only be created by a vast concert of tiny beating wings. The air smelled of blood and rust and rot. Great big black birds roosted everywhere, in the trees and in the scrub, pecking at the abundant mounds of rotting flesh.

Large lizards and desert wild dogs lazily meandered about. This place was filled with carrion feeders and there was plenty of bodies here for them to feast upon. Some of them stacked in heaps, others seemingly just dropped wherever.

Slumping behind rocks or atop of logs, trapped under a few of the overturned wagons that one could see marking the land here and there. From the the looks of things this was the scene of some kind of bitter doublecross between merchant companies. Some kind of deal gone wrong perhaps.

Such sights could be found in many places in Meallan, this was the land of sand and blood after all. Conflicts and calamities striking randomly and frequently. The only nation bloodier was its greener neighbor Gwenael, the Great Summer Kingdom. Maybe it was something to do with their size or their heat.

Maybe it was because both nations sustained themselves on mercenaries and slavery. Maybe it was because both nations were known for the constant infighting that took place within their borders.

In either case death wasn’t a hard thing find there. And in places where mass deaths happened eventually a chill would gather, an air that most people found discomfiting to be around.

This was a sign of death energy, a miasma that could actually grow poisonous if enough of it came to a particular spot. It’d settle and with time eventually  nature would reset the balance and the energy would dissipate and if that didn’t happen eventually something would trouble it. Causing it to churn. In which case it was highly likely that the dead would rise. Evil spirits loved the stuff, creatures of dark could find solace in it. It felt like...home. Filled with silence and shadow and cold.

As for Billy, searching for such places was a very big part of why he ran. Stumbling across a place like this was the second “requirement” for a successful run. He’d watch the skies and keep his ears open, so he could follow clouds of flies and flocks of carrion feeders to the sites of their last meals.

He’d found this place a few days ago and had been watching it, waiting for it to get ripe. For the miasma to thicken. Now here he  was.

Billy found a rock to sit on, a nice place clear of animals and above the thick cloud of  buzzing black flies. He sat and rested there, legs crossed in the lotus position. Eyes closed, shoulders relaxed.

It was less like meditation and more like bathing, swimming, drinking. He pulled the miasma into him and as he did lights appeared. Spirits of the restless dead, spirits of nature, spirits of things that either hadn’t been born, would never be born or had been left over from the universe that came before.

They gathered and they came to him. Some of them accepting what he tacitly offered. Life, freedom, engagement in the real world. Others rejecting it. He didn’t press. He had no intention to. Sure he offered bargains, terms and boundaries but he was no slaver. Those who wanted to stay would stay. Those who wanted to go would go. It was their choice.

Drinking the miasma, he pulled the cold and shadow into his inner world and felt his soul and body grow steadily refreshed, steadily stronger. His base strength rising bit by bit as he continued to sip from the gelid pool of dark energy.

The spirits that accepted his accord flowed into him, were pulled into his depths only to be pushed out again as slightly more corporeal shades. He was going stronger. In the time that he’d been doing this.

In the last month or so that he’d been bolstering the power of his soul and reaffirming the shadowy nature that he’d gained over the eons, the power that he was nurturing had grown more defined. The shapes that emerged, like bubbles rising from a cauldron, weren’t quite as formless as they’d been before.

There were spherical ones he called motes. Round and slow floating. Their gaze unblinking. Then there were ones that were tailed, fast flying, swimming through the air as they playfully spiraled about. Orbiting Billy like planets around a sun. Like birds circling a mountaintop.

In the end with a thought he put them all away. As the last of the miasma was pulled into his being the shades retreated to the world that lay within his shadow. Billy stood, stretching feeling looser and freer and more healthy than he’d been before.

“Nh…”

He jumped off of his rock and headed home. He decided that today had been a good day.