“It’s perfect.”
“It’s suicide.” Gel countered. “Incredibly obvious suicide.”
“That doesn’t make it any less perfect.” Sean announced with an air of grandeur. “We’re doing it. We’re definitely doing it. Besides, look at the ants! They’re going to need a drink soon or they’re going to collapse. Who’s going to carry our stuff then? You’re the one who didn’t want to share your cactus.”
“Hey, how was I supposed to know we wouldn’t find more? They were everywhere yesterday!” Gel sounded offended, but then the slime looked back at the clearly dehydrated ants behind them. The smallest one’s legs had begun to tremble a bit under its load. “Hnnngh, fine. But if we meet the sand witch out here and she kills us for stepping on her territory then don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
“We’re not going to meet a sand witch.”
“If we do, you owe me a marmlat.” Gel asserted, unconvinced. “I warned you.”
Sean rolled his orbs. Another two days had passed out here in the desert as they had searched for a base to shelter out of while marking their way towards Saren’s city. Only just yesterday the pair of them had remembered the black spire outcropping they had found not far from the ants’ colony, but that had been in the complete opposite direction of Dervash. While it might be nice to stop back in on later, it wouldn’t be suitable for their new ‘home’. Gel had not been pleased to recall that the food they had left buried back there was now most likely in the belly of whatever scavenger had most likely found it, and had grumbled for nearly an hour. Swearing to eat whoever had eaten his ‘lost’ meals when they got back.
To placate him, Sean had started regaling the slime with tales of all the different foods from his world. This had gone well at first, until the gelaton had brought up the ubiquitous ‘sandwich’ and its many varieties. Gel had immediately latched onto the topic, claiming memory of a ‘sand witch’ that supposedly lived somewhere out here in the Sohl desert… but the slime hadn’t been able to offer up any real details on the matter due to the fragmented nature of those memories.
Gel had shared a number of warnings about this elusive character the villagers had been so afraid of. To the point that, as they travelled on, some of that wariness had started to seep through. Eventually, Sean began to wonder whether the near-superstition level of fear his friend now associated with this most-likely fictional woman was actually coming from the slime himself, or was simply another psychic leftover from people of Dry Run.
Maybe it’s some kind of tale they used to scare their kids into behaving. “Don’t stay up late, or the sand witch will eat you!” “Don’t pick on your brother, or she’ll toss you into her stew!”
“We’re not going to run into a witch at the oasis.” Sean deadpanned, for at least the third time as he continued heading in the direction the ants had indicated. “Even if we do, we’ll just get the ants their sip of water before anyone can get offended and be on our way. If she does end up getting uppity about it, we’ll just trade her for some of her wood carvings or something.”
“Why would a witch have carvings? Now you’re not making any sense.”
Instead of answering, Sean simply pointed at the bright red melons hanging from one of the two-story palm trees only a few hundred meters away. Then again at the bright-blue bushes covered in multi-colored fruits next to the water’s edge. As he did, he could have sworn he heard the slime licking his non-existent lips in anticipation.
“See those fruits? And all those berries?” The gelaton asked. “You can’t honestly be telling me you don’t want to eat those right now.”
“Of course I want to!” Gel said, sounding deeply offended. The slime’s whip extended, pointing at the small herd’s worth of different animals queued up in an orderly fashion and taking turns lapping water from the oasis. “What about those flesh sacks? When was the last time you saw animals out here lining up for anything?”
“Maybe they’re all part of the same pack.” Sean offered, unable to resist the urge to tease his friend. “A sand-witch pack!”
“Camels, nermites, hoggaries, peel lizards, and giant scorpions are not usually part of the same pack, Sean.” Gel stated flatly, completely ignoring the humor. “Not in any memory I have, at least. By all rights, half of those tasty morsels should be snacking on each other right now. Though I do appreciate them waiting for us to arrive.”
“Welp, sounds like we’re about to find out what’s going on then. Can’t leave mysteries like that unsolved now, can we?” Sean announced, twirling the slime’s crimson battle axe in one hand as he headed down the dune they were standing on towards the oasis. Behind him, the ants followed. “Unless you want to run the risk of not getting to eat any of them.”
“I would never risk that.” Gel asserted with affront in his voice, before the slime sighed. “Fine, maybe there is no sand witch down there. But there is something weird going on, I can feel it in my wobble. Something strange. You feel it, don’t you?”
“I do.” Sean admitted, and it wasn’t a lie. The oasis had a strangely significant presence to it, like there was more there he couldn’t see hiding just below the surface. Given how much mana affected the landscape here, he was betting that feeling was literal. He wouldn’t be surprised to find it originated from something hidden deep underground.
A wellspring of nature mana, maybe? Is that where all this water is coming from?
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.” Sean asserted. “And get a few of those fruits to take with us while we’re at it for good measure.”
“Oooh, can you put fruit in a sandwich?” Gel asked, rapidly shifting the conversation back to his favorite topic. “I feel like that would be good. Real good, actually.”
“Usually as a side. Unless you count tomatoes, which are technically fruits.”
“How many do you think we could stuff in there? In a sandwich, I mean. Not in a sand witch, because obviously tha–” The slime paused. “Wait, that sounds delicious actually. Can we stuff fruits in people?”
“You can, sure. After they’re dead and provided they’ve given us reason to kill them.”
“What about animals?”
“Sure, why not. There’s actually quite a few recipes where I’m from that do that. Mostly with turkey.”
“How about—”
The pair continued to banter back and forth as they approached, the green-tinged sand underfoot rapidly giving way to lush green grass and small, bright flowers. Sean didn’t try to hide, but he didn’t charge in to attack, either. Given they were outnumbered at least twenty to one here, the obvious approach felt like the best one to take. A few of the animals in line eyed them warily, but other than that their entry into the oasis was largely ignored.
Odd. Figured at least one of them would try and attack. Sean thought as he lowered his weapon and stepped to the base of the nearest fruit-bearing palm tree. It was easily thrice the size of any he had ever seen back on Earth. He looked up, marveling at its height. Cute. Now, how do we get the frui– Hey!
Sean stepped out of the way as the ants carrying all of their loot rushed past him towards the water. To his surprise, their insect valets didn’t rush in to take a drink themselves despite the fact that he knew they must be parched. Instead, they joined the line of beasts already waiting to drink. They didn’t cut either, which must have taken some restraint as the line stretched out for at least a hundred or so feet into the brush.
“I feel like they know something we don’t.” Gel said, clearly watching the same strange sight he was. “Something important… but I can’t put your finger on it.”
“Yeah… You feelin’ thirsty?”
“I wasn’t.” Gel admitted. “But now I have to see what all the commotion is about. That has to be some really good water if it’s got a whole line waiting on it. Come on, let’s go get some for ourselves!”
“Sure.” Sean agreed, certain the slime really meant for myself, but he didn’t press the issue. Maybe it was special water? Then he might actually get some benefit from it. “Let’s get in line behind the ants. I don’t want anyone to think we’re cutting ahead, even if they are with us.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
‘That seems wise.”
The prudence of that decision became even more apparent when the pair made it over to the line and discovered why all the normally aggressive desert animals were on their best behavior. From this new angle, the trees opened up to finally reveal what had been sitting on the other side of the oasis this entire time.
Sean’s jaw dropped open in shock.
“Is that a fucking manticore?”
“A manti-what now?” Gel asked, before popping an eyeball out of his shoulder to get a better view. “What’re you–woah.”
Seated across the water and watching over the proceedings like a king in court, was a creature both massive and heavily muscled. Its body was that of a powerfully built lion the size of a Fjord F-150, with forest-green fur and clawed hands that looked vaguely humanoid. Two large, draconic wings formed from emerald scales sprouted from its back. A several meter long, thorn-covered tail extended from its rear, each thorn along it easily the length of one of Sean’s forearms.
All of which would have been fine, and about par for the course with this world really– save for its face. Sean had heard of manticores back on Earth, and he knew they were supposed to have human-ish faces. He had seen CGI faces added to mythical creatures before, both tastefully and not tastefully executed. Drawings were usually much worse, especially the older they got. This was… something entirely different.
It looks so… human.
The manticore’s face was that of a regal human male somewhere in his forties, whose thick, dark locks extended back into a lion’s mane. Apart from his well-kept facial hair and inhumanely yellow eyes, Sean would not have found the creature’s face out of place on a billboard back home advertising overpriced shampoo. Beneath that beautifully chiseled face, two massive fur paws rested calmly atop one another. Sean could almost hear the commercial jingle playing in his head.
‘L’orelion Hair’, unlock your inner monster. Man, I really missed my calling in advertising. Sean thought, before realizing he had been staring at the manticore for so long that its drifting yellow gaze had now settled on him. Ah, shit.
Not willing to wimp out in front of a powerful creature that was clearly cowing every other monster here just by its presence, Sean returned its gaze with a level one of his own. Long moments passed, and the line shuffled forward. A nermite at the front who had just finished drinking bowed before it left the oasis, and the manticore’s thorny tail twitched to one side. Sean stepped forward as the ants and every other creature shuffled forward once more, and the massive creature’s stare eventually moved on.
“How many steaks do you think we could make out of that thing?” Gel whispered conspiratorially. “Just a rough estimate, doesn’t have to be accurate. A week’s worth? Two?”
“We are not attacking the guardian manticore.” Sean deadpanned, though he had admittedly been wondering the same thing. “Everyone else out here is playing nice, so we can too. At least until we get some more information…”
And a couple dozen more levels. The gelaton added internally. I wonder if manticore-meat has any inherently magical properties.
While it probably did and the gelaton had no doubt the benefits were likely huge stat-wise, all of Sean’s instincts were warning him that this fight was one he wanted no part of. The sheer muscles on that thing! Its arms alone looked like a mountain lion had gotten into a box of steroids.
Hah. “Watch out cocaine-bear, roid-lion is coming for you!”.
“Ooh, what if we got a fire going and boiled it in the oasis? Drop a couple of fruits in there, maybe some of those camels… We could have manti-soup!”
“Stop it.” Sean chided, hiding a mental snort behind the perfect mask of his normally expressionless skull. “You know that thing could probably kill us, right?”
“You know my stance on these things: Danger only adds to the flavor.”
The pair watched two dozen or more monsters get their fill of the sparkling blue water before it was finally their turn. Nermites, camels, and even the scorpions all bowed towards the manticore once they finished, leaving the oasis without so much as a bared tooth or raised claw at anyone else in line. Sean noticed that each group of monsters left in a different direction from the others, and he could see even more making their way here. There were enough he was surprised they hadn’t run into any themselves earlier.
High above, the relentless rays of the sun were beating down without a wisp of cloud support, and the crowd of beasts behind them was steadily growing in number.
Not wanting to interrupt the strangely solemn procession forming behind him, Sean kneeled swiftly at the water’s edge and extended a hand out so Gel could drink. A second later, unable to resist his own curiosity, Sean brought a cupped hand of the liquid to his dusty jaw and ‘drank’ some himself. To his surprise, an aquamarine prompt immediately appeared in his vision, its borders that of dancing palm leaves.
Congratulations, you have supped from waters steeped in a wellspring of nature mana! Your mana will refresh itself at a rate of 1 point per hour for the next three hours.
Note: As a creature of death and chaos, you do not receive any additional, direct bonuses from the consumption of material or liquids steeped in mana outside of your nature. Further consumption may also lead to unknown effects.
Gel made a gagging sound as he digested the last gulp, but then the real surprise came.
The manticore spoke.
“Precious few undead venture out to visit our oasis these days. Fewer still with the presence of mind to respect our rules during their stay.” The manticore said gravely, his voice harsh in a way that was completely at odds with his regal, human features. As if he were talking through an old injury. “Tell me, servant of Death, why have you come?”
At first, Sean wasn’t sure what to make of the words. Mostly because, unlike nearly every other word not spoken by Gel since coming here, he could actually understand them. The manticore wasn’t speaking in English, he knew that, but his mind still contextualized the language as such. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound escaped his jaws. The pair looked at each other.
Luckily, Gel had them covered.
“Those delicious-looking fruits up in your trees!” Gel said brightly, gesturing with his slime-whip up at the palm tree fruits high above them. “We were hoping to sample a few before we left, if you don’t mind. Are they your fruits? I’m assuming everything here is yours, so do you mind if we grab a few? Just to sample.”
Again, Sean was startled to realize Gel wasn’t speaking in English either. There were still words, or at least, sounds that might have been words. Mostly the slime was bubbling about, wobbling around, and articulating wildly with his whip. Yet, somehow, Sean understood him perfectly.
What the fuck is going on?
“Ooh, and some of those berries!” Gel added. “They look good, too. I’d be happy with any amount of berries you’re willing to share, actually. There seems to be plenty of them you aren’t eating. Oh, and we can pay! We have… well, lots of stuff actually. Those ants over there are carrying most of it.”
“The ants are with you, then?” The manticore sounded amused now. Sean nodded, and its yellow eyes flicked from Gel to him. “And two minds, I see. How very curious. Tell me, undead seeker of the desert’s hidden fruits, what sort of pay do you imagine would satisfy such an exchange?”
“Well, it’s for food.” Gel said slowly, as if he were speaking the patently obvious. “So, obviously only the most valuable of our wares will satisfy your needs… and my tastes.”
At that, the manticore barked out a low, rumbling laugh. One heavily muscled paw lifted, and the massive creature rested his human head in it. Long, wickedly curved claws flicked out, stroking his facial hair in relaxed amusement. Sean detected no malice or trickery in the gesture, the manticore seemed genuinely entertained. With a single gesture of its other paw, the line behind them shifted and a large camel moved in to drink at Sean’s side.
“I never joke about my food, let me assure you.” Gel said, clearly somewhat offended. “I meant every word.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that. Your kind is not known for its humor.” The manticore intoned gravely, and Sean both saw and heard the smile tugging at the corner of its lips when it spoke that time. “But out here where the sands are constantly shifting, you’ll find we have little need of material goods. The desert swallows much, and its appetite outmatches even that of the slimes.”
The manticore’s yellow eyes twinkled with his next words. “So out here, we exchange our business using a much more… valuable commodity.”
“... spices?” Gel asked, at the same time as Sean wondered. “We?”
This wasn’t the first time the manticore had used that phrasing, and Sean could tell by now that the creature wasn’t using the royal ‘we’ for theatrical flair. His hunch was confirmed a moment later, as the slime’s confused silence stretched on. The air grew ever so slightly awkward.
“He means information, dear.” Called an older, sophisticated female voice from behind the manticore. One that Sean could, again, inexplicably understand. “Do you have any news to trade?”
A human woman, dressed in a robe made of dark-green palm leaves and bearing a wooden staff topped with what looked like an ornately carved fruit Sean had never seen before pressed her way through the oasis brush. She had olive skin weathered gently by the sun, dark hair, and a bright gleam behind sparkling, emerald eyes. She bumped playfully against the manticore’s side as she stood next to him, folding her arms.
“Rastegar here pays by the bushel in fruit for interesting news. Particularly news he has yet to hear.”
“Oh, well in that case prepare your bushels!” Gel announced brightly. “We have plenty of that to trade!”
Sean watched the manticore’s lion-like body relax as the woman leaned into him with a growing smile, and he could almost hear the massive creature begin to purr even all the way over here as she absently scratched his side.
Great. He thought. Now all we’re missing is the wardrobe.
To Gel, Sean silently added. “Okay, looks like I was wrong. That is totally a sand witch.”
“Hah!” Gel barked out a laugh in his mind. “You owe me a marmlat.”