I lay there healing myself over and over again until morning blossoms. During the healing, I came to learn that not all of the headaches were caused by the mana, but by a crack in my skull that had formed from the creature’s foot pushing me against the ground. If I had followed the forum’s advice to only pour all of my stats into magic, I would, no doubt, be dead right now. Hours were spent just casting Lesser Heal over and over again to regrow the bone. Even then, the headache remains. I might have to talk to William about finishing it.

Some of my ribs are probably broken as well. After a few dozen casts of Lesser Heal, the pain is bearable enough to stand. There was something wrong with my knee as well. It wasn’t broken, but it hurt to extend it and felt as if it were a rubber band extended too far. It takes a while for that to fade. Eventually, I unlock the ability to quickly cast Lesser Heal at some point during the night, it made casting it easier, and made it, so I could cast it without end while walking down the thin dirt path through the woods. I put my boots on, and begin the hike.

Life bustles endlessly within the woods. Unseen things dart between the branches high in the trees, or peek out from beneath the arches of the large roots that weaved in and out of the leaf-strewn ground in those shaded woods. The path curled around a large boulder that jutted from the ground, and once I round it the path begins to dip.

Why was this door so large? Was this actually a gate? Possibly. Or was there something else about it? There’s nothing I could do but follow the path. I put the three points I had gained from killing the invisible ratman into stamina to make the walking a little less tiring as I continue down the trail; healing myself all the way.

After the short descent into the woods, the trail began to climb once again. Twisting and turning as it followed the ridgeline of a range of rolling hills that fell in and out of the forest. Even with the occasional dips, it was clear that I was climbing further and further up a mountain. Every so often, the path is cut in two by a trickling stream that I had to step over. Some parts were tricky to discern; was I following the paths of some wild animal, or was I following a deliberate path laid out by the inhabitants of the lodge that I had met and killed? Those questions were quickly answered by some marking that could only be made by sentient hands. A tower of stones stacked on one another atop a boulder; a perfect square segment of the dark brown bark stripped from the tree. I continue down the path, assuming that it would lead to the outpost. Why else would they need such obvious markings? The outpost that was acting as the anchor shouldn’t be too far, right? Right?

After about an hour or so of walking, the forest begins to thin, and the climb begins to increase. Eventually, I rise above the tree line, and I take a break at the edge of a cliff. In the middle of it was a small pit dug out with warm ash, and small bones sat strewn on the stony ground.

It overlooks a sheer drop. A sheer drop that I would have to teeter on as I continued the climb. For now, however, I just take in the view. In the distance, I could see the silhouettes of the giant walls that surround the ratman-infested city that most of the doors in Arville lead to through the distant wall of fog. Stone ruin towers jut out from the woods; outcroppings of the lost civilization that had once lived within these lands. What were they like? Did they have a religion? Multiple religion? Did they have poems and stories now lost forever? Did they view love the same way we did? Questions that will never be answered. I stretch out my back and continue the climb.

The path hugs against the walls of the mountains; flanked on my left by an impassable climb and on my right by a sheer drop into the pointed tops of the trees that reached into the air like so many spears. I press my shoulder against the stone wall and push on. As I climb; the sound of multiple footfalls comes from the path ahead. Is this a result of my clairaudience? I glance around. There’s nowhere to hide, so I ready myself to ambush with my cane pointed forward. Ten minutes later, the sound of many voices drifts down to me. There were at least ten speaking with one another in lively conversation. They were close. I could smell the familiar dank smell of wet, matted fur on the wind.

“By the order of Gob, king of the spirits of the earth, I order you, oh gnomes, seize my enemies.”

I feel the mana pour into my feet, around my heart, and out of my feet. I direct it into the wall of the cliff nearby and hold it there, to be ready at a moment’s notice. The first of the oncoming squad rounds the corner and spots me. It’s a large dogman. Presumably the one in charge as he barks an order at the others, draws his weapon, and charges downhill. The others follow, and there are at least double what I had thought.

I release the mana when the squad leader closes half the distance, and about half of the squad had begun to charge toward me. A hand the size of a mature fir tree juts out from the stone wall and pushes its way into the squad. It pushes through the squad; shoving about three or four dogs and rat-men off the edge as it reaches the target I specify; a gray-furred dogman. It grabs hold of the creature’s head and holds it in place just off the edge of the path. The dogman kicks its feet to try to find purchase on the ledge before the hand crumbles once more into stone and sends the dogman plummeting into the forests below.

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A sharp whistle cuts through the wind, as I catch the quick glint of an arrow. I pull my body to the side closer to the mountain as the whistling arrow sails by. The squad leader is upon me a moment later before I could chant anything else with its shield raised; it pushes me against the wall and raises its short sword to stab at me. Left with no options, I push my battered body to its limits by grabbing hold of the creature’s shield and pushing back against it. Its strength must be greater than mine, however, as it pushes back all the harder, and stabs forward with its blade. I move my head out of the way, and the blade cuts through the solid stone as if it were butter.

The rest of the squad soon forms a barrier that would prevent me from going any further.

“Dance for me, o’ daughters of the wind.”

I utter.

A dome of wind forms around me, and kicks up dust.

A sharp bark cuts through the howling wind, and my spell is stopped. No more movement is made from the mixed-race squad. This dogman, if indeed he were, a dogman, for he doesn’t have the jackal or wolf-like appearance of the other dogmen, but instead had the face of a brown-furred chihuahua and stands at least two heads shorter than the other dogmen, who were about a head taller than me. He didn’t have an imposing figure. In fact, he looked practically frail. Why then, did the other creatures part for him? Why did their shoulders tremble so?

He stands next to the dogman that has me pinned, produces a wand from somewhere beneath his flowing white robes that bore the symbol of Roki, and taps my head. The feeling of someone else’s mana invading my body is disgusting and feels like icy sludge pushing through a pipe.

“Apostle Akar, what are you doing? We are to capture any who come in alive. Those are the White One’s orders.” A harsh and rugged voice came from...somewhere.

Huh? Who was that? The dogman who had me pinned was moving his mouth as if he were talking.

“Relax, Captain. He is alive. I just want to speak with him. Confirm some things.”

This voice could more accurately be described as coming from a snake of some sort rather than this chihuahua. Can I understand them? The White One? The image of the great White Wolf in the gate near the Sunshine comes to mind. Was he alive? After that explosion? The chihuahua mage turns to me.

“Now. Hue-man that’s what they call you right?”

I nod.

“I can understand you?”

“You can. It’s not permanent. Though that won’t matter in a couple of minutes. If my suspicions are confirmed.”

“What do you mean?”

“A large white Mori,” The chihuahua motions to himself, and to the captain currently pinning me as if to indicate that’s what they are. Mori, eh? Not ‘dogmen,’ “Did you come across one recently?”

“What’s it to you?”

The dogman rolls his eyes, taps my head with his wand, and without a word a pain unlike anything I had ever felt pushes its way through the top of my head, and out the bottom of my feet. It feels as if every muscle — every joint, and every nerve in my body was being torn asunder, reformed, and torn apart all over again. He removes the wand from my head after about five seconds of this, and I fall forward. The captain catches me.

“Now, let me ask you again.”

“What’s...it to y—FUCK.”

He puts the wand on top of my head again and holds it there for ten seconds.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes.”

Akar glances at the captain.

“He’s the one that the messages mentioned. Kill on sight.”

“He’s the ‘sage who moved the earth?’ The one who held back The White One’s army on his own? The Great Tactician?”

It seems like I’ve inadvertently taken credit for some of William’s work.

“Yes. See; he’s missing his eye.” Akar taps his wand against my empty socket. “And see his large frame?”

The Captain’s gaze turns upwards.

“Then is the Sky Strider somewhere?”

That must be Monica.

“No. I think he came alone.” The chihuahua-looking dogman snickered. “Kill on sight, remember? Maybe if he disappears, the Sky Strider will show up. The rumors say they’re close, right? Plus, you’ll surely gain merit enough for killing him; maybe you’ll be made an Apostle as well. We need another one anyways since Nyk was killed in the sewers. Hurry it up. We’re supposed to kill the rebels before we...” the chihuahua’s eyes rest on me, and he grins again, “Before we follow through with the plan.”

Plan? What plan? The only thing I could think of was launching an attack on Earth, but they couldn’t do that, right? Right? The captain presses me against the wall and raises his blade to stab forward, and the chihuahua walks away.

“No worries, sage. I’ll send the Sky Strider to you shortly.”

There was no easy way of getting out of this. I swallow my fear, and the dogman stabs forward with his blade. I shift my head, and once more the blade enters the stone wall. I lift my knee and press my foot against the wall as he struggles to pull his blade out

“Oh, you ruler of Olympus, lend thy power for my steps.”

Lightning pulses through my body, and sends me flying forward. I push into the shield and wrap my arms around the captain’s neck, and we launch toward the edge of the cliff. Three others who were around us followed us in our rapid descent. I manage to pull the kris from my belt, and stab forward into the captain’s face; burying it deep through the creature’s eye. It screams and I hold on tight as we fall toward the pointed-top trees. The only thought going through my mind is.

“This is going to hurt.”