Mark squinted at the soft light of morning streaming through the cave entrance, rubbing his sore, bloodshot eyes. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his pounding head up against the cool stone wall of the cave and slowly closed his eyes, quickly drifting off to blissful sleep. He awoke an unknown time later to the quiet whimpering of the small girl as she slept. Mark stood, his body stiff, painful from the awkward position, and slowly walked to her side. The girl still appeared pale in the early morning light, but not the sickly pale of approaching death she had been just a few hours ago. The sweet scent of decay had also faded from the shallow cave, replaced with the smell of burning wood and morning dew.
Mark sat down beside the little girl and stared, a frown on his face as he watched the girl twist and turn in her sleep. She was obviously doing much better, but she was still a 7-year-old girl with a wound that would put even a grown man in the hospital. They needed to get her to an actual Doctor soon, or things would only regress. The man sighed once more and stood, gently patting the young girl on the head. As he did, Merry's brow furrowed, and her small, delicate hands shot out as quick as a whip, latching his own. Mark flinched, pulling away, but the girl held on with surprising strength, whimpering, as a single tear trailing out of her unbandaged eye.
The older man paused, his frown growing deeper, shocked at how deathly cold their girl's hands were despite the sweat beading on her forehead. He pinched the bridge of his nose before settling back down next to the girl, gently closing his rough, calloused hand over their girls, his hand large enough to enclose both.
After several moments, Merry's shivering shopped, and after several more, her tears dried as well. Soon, the cave was filled with the soft sound of her calm breathing. Mark gently released the girl's hands, placing them on top of her chest, and touched her forehead. While not gone, her fever had loosened its grip slightly, but she still had a long way to go. He stood, turning towards the sleeping figure of Alex, the young man dead to the world. Fair enough, he figured; the man had spent the day traveling on horseback, then fought off several combatants, before staying up the entire night to treat the little girl.
Guess that meant he was on watch.
Mark gathered up his stuff and moved towards the front of the cave, sitting on a large boulder near the entrance. He stared out into the dawn, listening to the early morning sounds of the forest as it began to awaken. His mind began to drift back to just a few hours ago and the meeting with the Stranger. Mark wasn't embarrassed to admit he barely understood anything the man had said; all this talk of alternate realities and dying worlds had totally gone over his head. What little he did honestly chilled his soul...
He'd spent all his life following the orders of others; a soldier did not think; he only went where he was sent and did what he was told. Killed who he was told. Yet, despite all of his struggles, all of his sacrifices, what did it amount to in the end?
Thrown away, tossed aside like a broken tool. Not even able to help the few people he'd promised to.
Mark's shoulders slumped as if a heavyweight pressed down on him. The light of dawn cast a deep shadow over his face as his knuckles began to turn white as they gripped the handle of the sheathed, rusty sword.
As the dark clouds stirred around inside Mark's heart and mind, a small blue box popped into existence in front of him,
SYSTEM TUTORIAL PROGRAM INITIATED, WOULD HOST LIKE TO CONTINUE?
[Yes] [No]
Mark stared at the box with a frown, already feeling another headache creeping up on his. He'd been so overwhelmed with everything that had happened recently, he'd totally forgotten about the Stranger's parting "Gift." While he was reluctant to use anything that man gave him, Mark wasn't stupid either. He recognized that his greatest weakness at the moment was a lack of knowledge.
He gave a tired sigh and clicked the "Yes" button.
CONFIRMED, ASSIGNING SYSTEM ASSISTANT TO HOST. PLEASE STAND BY.
A cold mechanical voice echoed in his head, and the small window flashed with the bright light before disappearing.
In that instant, something truly magical began to happen. The morning sunlight filtering through the thin forest mist began to twist and swirl, swimming through the air like liquid gold. The narrow rivers of light slowly flowed together until they condensed at a singular point in front of the cave. The tiny point of light grew with each passing moment as more and more light pooled into it until it reached the size of a tennis ball.
Mark stretched out his free hand and gently poked the little ball of light, feeling a soft give, as if made from cotton. The ball of light quivered slightly like gelatin before snapping to its original shape, giving a high-pitched hum as if in aggravation. Mark smirked at the strange little thing, poking it again, a little harder. The little ball of light went tumbling through the air before suddenly reversing speed and shooting towards Mark with surprising speed.
Mark's eyes went wide, and he took a step back, but the light ball stopped on a dime only an inch or two from his face, seemingly ignoring the laws of Inertia. It quivered angrily in the air, bouncing back and forth, pulsing in dim red light, as if saying thing something in words Mark could not hear. Mark's wide eyes squinted as he gave another smirk and reached up to poke it again... The ball of light, seeing Mark's hand rise, backed away. It stopped a few feet away and began to quiver and hum even louder but stayed just out of reach. After a moment of humming rage, the light ball started zooming around the cave as if looking for something.
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A few moments passed before it stopped near a patch of hanging vines at the front of the cave. It gave a reluctant hum before it dashed into the vines. The vines shook and stirred, as if alive, before something flew out at high speeds, followed close behind by the little ball of light. The black blur was fast, but the little ball of light was faster, and as it chased it unknown blur around the room, it slowly gained on it, like a hawk tailing its prey. The two's extremely high speeds and quick turns prevented Mark from catching a glimpse of the creature's form.
When the ball of light finally struck the black blur, the two were sent crashing to the ground, tumbling for several yards. Having watched the entire confrontation in silence, Mark was finally able to make out the shape of the flying creature. There, wrestling with the ball of light near the cave's back wall, was a massive beetle.
Mark could only stare at the creature in shock; it was huge, a size larger than the Titan Beetles on Earth, but its shape and bulk were closer to that of a Rhinoceros Beetle. Its shell was a vibrant dark green, and it glistened in the morning light in a way that would put any gem to shame. However, the most striking feature of the beetle was the huge "horn" on its head. The blade-like horn was easily 4-5 inches long; Mark could tell from a glance that it was hard as iron and insanely sharp, like a small dagger growing from the beetle's head.
Mark broke out in cold sweat as he thought about that "horn" and the speed at which the beetle had been flying. He did not know what this thing was, but he instantly knew that it was dangerous. Very dangerous. Mark watched as the beetle and the ball of light struggled, wary but unable to take his eyes away from the strange slight. Suddenly, the beetle buck, tossing the light ball away with a squeak. The beetle began to then spin around, clearly agitated and looking for more opponents.
The beetle's tiny eyes fell on Mark, and it gave an aggravated clicking sound as though to vent its frustrations. Mark's eyes went wide as he saw the jewel-like shell raise up and the beetle spread its wings, its thorax raising in the air, its wings blurring as the beetle readied itself to charge.
However, the beetle never got the chance; the moment before it launched itself at Mark, the small ball of light slammed into the beetle, sending it tumbling once more. Mark raised an eyebrow as he watched the small ball of light and the strange beetle roll around on the ground, the beetle desperately trying to separate itself while the ball of light slowly surrounded it. The little ball of light wrapped around the beetle-like an amoeba devouring its prey, and the beetle's struggle began to weaken before finally ceasing altogether.
Finally enveloped the beetle entirely, the little ball of light began to pulse slowly up and down as if breathing. The glowing light seemed to shrink tighter and tighter around the beetle's form with each rise and fall before dissolving into its body entirely. After a moment, all that was left was the motionless body of the beetle.
Mark watched on with bated breath when suddenly the huge beetle gave a jerk, its body twitching several times. Mark looked around in a panic, searching for anything he could use as a shield or weapon, when a tiny high-pitched yawn reached his ears.
Mark's eyes went wide in shock as he looked over and saw something strange. Where the beetle should have been now stood a small "person," only slightly bigger than the beetle, pushing itself up from its knees. The small person looked around the cave in a daze, its eye's slightly dreary as though just waking from a dream, before landing on Mark. The small person stared in silence for a moment before its eyes went wide, its face red. It jumped into the air, the large green shell on its back opening wide as the thin wings gave a light hum.
The small person flew towards Mark's face at a speed he could barely follow, though even if he could, Mark was in such shock that he wouldn't have even reacted.
"You! You, You, YOU! Where do you think you get off poking this Young Lady?!"
The small person spoke, thrust out its small hand, and poked Mark in the nose several times, each time moving slightly closer. This close, Mark could finally the tiny person's face. His mouth slowly hung open as he stared silently at the small person in front of his eyes; although her face was bright red in anger and her cheeks were puffed out with air, he could still make out the profile of a young girl, no more than 11-12 years old.
Her face was striking but not overly so, more cute than beautiful. Her snow-white skin stood in stark contrast to her long black hair that reached slightly past her shoulders. Her eyes, though round in anger, were a vibrant emerald. On her body, she wore a jet black set of leather Armor like one might see in a medieval reenactment; the chest, arms, legs, and other places plated on top with a bright green metallic substance that glistened in the light.
Though currently raised as a pair of thin, transparent wings beat rapidly in flight, her back was covered in a huge green shell, apparently made of the same stuff as the plating on her Armor. Strapped to one side of the shell was a long Naginata tipped with the Beetle's Horn. Though to Mark, this blade would have been nothing more than a Fruit Knife, he could not help but shiver as it gave off a cold glint in the morning light.
The tiny girl, frustrated at Mark's inattention, dropped her arms to her side before huffing and bending forward to stare him in the eye, her own still wide and her face fuming.
"Well?!"
Mark blinked and shook his head as if to dispel an illusion. He looked back at the tiny girl flying in front of his nose, the shock and fear in his eyes replaced by confusion. He tilted his head and lifted his free hand out as if to poke her and spoke with a low voice,
"What are you?"
Mark felt a sting from his finger as a sudden flash of light swept past him before he yelped and quickly pulled his finger back. He looked down at his finger but saw no visible wound until a thin line of red slowly formed. The tiny flying girl looked at Mark with cold eyes before speaking in a neutral tone,
"I told you. Do not think you can touch me, Human".
Mark could feel his blood run cold as he looked at the tiny Naginata she held in her hands. She was fast. Stupidly fast. Mark had specialized in hand-to-hand combat while in the military, and while he would not go so far as to say he was the best, he had absolute confidence in his eyes. Yet, he'd barely been able to see her movement. Otherwise, he'd have lost the finger entirely. Mark had no doubt in his mind that the blade would have passed through his bone like it was air; the blade was that sharp.
The tiny flying girl placed her weapon back on her shell before crossing her arms and looking down her nose at Mark, before sneering in a proud voice,
"But since you ask Human, This Young Lady will tell you! Rejoice, for you stand in the presence of The Great Manifestation of Nature! The Queen of Earth and Wind! Master of the Land! The Great Magi Spirit, Tsutsuji!”
Mark stared in silence at the young girl who called herself Tsutsuji, as a light wind blew through the cave entrance, kicking up a bit of dust, before grabbing his stomach then bending over and letting out a light laugh, not being able to hold it in any longer.
"Hahahahhahahaha"