Chapter 31: The Shadows’ Flight
He was feeling… focused. After yesterday’s incident, along with Mitty’s fall, he felt useless. He was a guardian. Guarding was his purpose. If he couldn’t protect those important to him, what was his reason to be?
He raised himself shakily on one leg, counterbalancing his tenuous pose with his staff. Tsumuji made it look easy, but it was anything but. At least the burning sensation in his leg helped bring his thoughts into focus.
Everyone was okay, but it was really no thanks to him. At least the solution was simple. Get stronger.
He swept his weight forward in a wave, blurring as he struck an imaginary foe with a crisp crack to the head. He’d be lying if he didn’t find satisfaction in his new strength, though he recognized he had a long way to go as far as the power he’d seen.
Following the forward blow, he sidestepped an imaginary swipe from an imaginary cultist before blurring forward in chase with another whiplike blow.
A soft clap sounded from behind, where he saw Violet descending the steps from her house. Now that he looked, he also saw a few children hiding behind some stacked boxes, watching him and whispering loudly.
“Very impressive, Dantes. Could you teach me?”
He frowned.
“I’m not sure. I can try. I’ve barely taken the first step on the path of fighting, or so my teacher said.”
“One step further than me then,” she responded, tossing him a stick, before raising her own in challenge.
He set aside his staff, grinning as he snatched it out of the air. Catching sticks came naturally to him, after all. The practice stick was smaller than he was used to, and so it took him some a few test swings to adjust. It was surprisingly durable and flexible, he noticed, the wood a faint green hue.
With no need for further words, he immediately slashed the stick towards her side. She yelped, dropping her stick, and sending him a pouting glare.
He chuckled, suddenly understanding why his own teacher seemed to have so much fun teaching him.
“First lesson, always be prepared.”
***
Some time later had Violet collapsed in a heap, some light bruises on her arms and legs. He didn’t have the same control as his teacher, and so some grazes from when he’d failed to pull his blows in time were natural. As a result, he’d decided keeping attacks from the neck and head would be safe, until she started exploiting his unwillingness to go for that target. At that point though, her stamina was flagging, and he’d just ground her down with speed and what little skill he had.
Something flashed in the dying light of the day, speeding towards his head, and he dodged it by instinct. A little puff of red powder behind him confirmed dodging to be the best choice as he saw his companion stride into the clearing beside the village path. He knew how unpleasant getting that in your eyes could be.
“Bullying your new friend already Dantes? That didn’t take long. Mind if I have a go?”
Not having asked, she’d already taken Violet’s stick, darting towards him quick as a cat. He shook off the exhaustion that was creeping into his muscles and focused his senses. He knew Mitts wasn’t one for direct confrontation, so he was surprised to see her interested in clashing. He’d hold his blows a bit since she was recovering, but he had no intention of losing.
Her left hand was hidden by her cloak, fabric rustling with movement before it flashed out. Again, he dodged, but this time, he realized, there was nothing to dodge.
Internally cursing at having been fooled, he tried to fix his stance, but Mitty bore down on him in an overhand swing. It seemed weak, so he adjusted the force of his response. She was still injured after all.
The anemic blow landed, and he shrugged it off, intending on striking back, only to find a swift kick in his ribs. He’d been had again. The strike wasn’t weak, it’d been a feint.
He growled in annoyance, closing the distance on Mitty who was already dancing out of range again, ducking below a retreating swing, his own stick whistled forwards and… a burning sensation in his eyes and mouth, as he found himself with a face full of pepper.
He hacked, and rubbed his eyes, but that made it worse so he just retreated, wiping his eyes on his shirt. He heard some giggling from the children, and his face turned red from more than just the spice. Mitty’s voice called out to him from across the impromptu training yard.
“Don’t underestimate me, Dantes; I’m not some helpless kitten who will bruise from a light tap. Find me at Rain’s if you decide to take me seriously.”
He heard her retreating footsteps, light but sure as he rubbed at his eyes with water Violet provided him.
“Your girlfriend is really something, Dantes. She played you like a puppet” Violet said.
He nodded. She really had. He couldn’t even complain about her tactics, since they were ones he’d been taught to prepare for and employ given the opportunity. Something did bother him though.
“Why does everyone call her that?”
“What?”
“Girlfriend. Everyone calls her that. I mean, she is a girl and my friend, but I don’t understand why everyone sees the need to point it out. No one calls me their boyfriend” he explained.
She raised an eyebrow perplexed.
“Are you so dense you do not see it? She obviously has feelings towards you, Dantes. Do you not have feelings for her?.”
“What do you mean? Like friendship?”
“I mean romantic feelings, fool. She was basically goggling at you like a halfwit owl all morning yesterday.”
It was his turn to furrow his brows.
“I think you’re misunderstanding. We are friends. My best friend in all the world, and I hope I hold that place in her heart too, but I don’t think she thinks of me like that.”
That earned him a sound halfway between sarcastic and disgusted, and Violet left too, retrieving her sticks as she returned to her house for the evening.
***
She was actually quite pleased with herself, despite her prior words. It was annoying that he’d been going easy on her, but she felt the thorough trouncing he’d earned from it more than made up for the insult. It was more supposed to be a statement on how she could care for herself. She didn’t want to be a burden, just something to be protected, but an equal. Whether the message was to him or herself, she hadn’t decided, but she was feeling good about it. Even if she did take advantage of her friend’s naivety.
Dantes just wasn’t equipped for trickery, either in employing or detecting it. One of the reasons he was so easy to be around.
She took her day’s harvests out of her pouch, along with some honey she’d gained off Rain, laying them out on the table. He’d also given her some other items for future projects, but today she would be making candy. The kitchen in Zinnia’s house was bare bones, but she had what she needed. Runes for hot and cold, a couple pots and pans, and some dishes.
She decided to start with dinner, which would just be fried cauliflower salad, tossed in sunflower seed oil. It was simple enough, just slicing the cauliflowers in half, tossing them in salt and oil, then broiling them for a few minutes. To top it off, she added some dried Chilly Peppers on top to create a weird vegetable salad thing.
It wasn’t her favourite, but it was miles better than raw veggies they’d been having. Apparently for the eclipse they would make a curry with everyone going all out, but prepared food would mostly be put on hold until repairs were finished.
Leaving out a big bowl for when Dantes decided to stop playing around in the mud, she returned her attention to the kitchen where she would be making candy. Honey candy to be precise, as it was the most plentiful source of sugar in the community.
From Rain, she’d discovered the process of making honey candy to be exceedingly simple. First, she mixed honey and water over heat. When it boiled, she added more honey and lowered the heat. Once it cooled further, she mixed in a variety of ingredients and separated them into a little wooden tray with hemispherical indents in them that she’d received from Rain.
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The preparation of her magical ingredients was the trickiest part and took some trial and error. Fortunately, she’d brought plenty from her earlier trip, and so had room for experimentation.
In the end, she’d managed to preserve the
Lastly, the sunflower seed candies remained tasty, albeit unmagical treats. Nothing she did had much effect on preserving the aura of
Calling it there for the day, she returned to bed to hopefully sleep off the aches and pains still lingering from her injuries, noticing on the way that Dantes had eaten the salad she’d set out for him. Tomorrow she’d look to see about maybe finding some flour.
As she closed her eyes for the night, she wondered where it would all end. When they would part. How long until he decided to move on. As much as she’d tried to stop it, she’d started to grow attached to her big guard dog. The look in his eyes when he perceives a complement, even when there was none, or the satisfaction on his face after some decent food. It was… nice to be around.
She was on the precipice now. On one side, she felt his warmth, his smile, his friendship. On the other, the pain she would feel when he left, the cold pit of anger and grief and worse, acceptance.
Could she do it again? She didn’t know if she could.
No, she corrected. She didn’t know if she could fail again.
Maybe… just maybe, she could unspool her heart for this man. To let herself be tied down, to let herself love and be loved again. Just one last time.
***
A thrumming trespassed into the serene night, slowly at first, then shattering it irreparably. She was awake now, though she wished she weren’t. It was probably a hummingbird. The one they’d saved was rather cute, though she wished they weren’t making a nuisance of themselves at night.
Something fowl disturbed the night air in a way she couldn’t touch with words or thoughts, but it was sufficient to get her out of bed and to the window, fatigue fleeing her body. Below, the signs of the festivities that would take place during the eclipse were starting to emerge. Colorful streams of flowers hung between some of the dandelions, and below a large area was being cleared for an assembly space.
Below, profile lit by ghostly blue lights, Russel stood on the village path, looking grimly into the distance.
As the noise grew closer, she could separate out different sources, perhaps a dozen or so. Before long, wasps as big as horses broke through the treeline opposite the man, one breaking from the group and landing.
Russel’s voice slithered through the air as though the wind itself delivered his words, his voice clear and soft, but hiding danger.
“Followers of the New Sun. What business do you have with the people of my grove?”
The man dismounting the wasp shouted a reply.
“We are here to retrieve our high priestess. Is there a woman here by the name of Princess Fuzzy Mittens Clark?”
“No” was the singular reply.
“Then you will allow us to conduct a search for her?”
Russel planted his staff on the dirt path. “No”.
The man nodded, motioning his allies spread out as he withdrew a jagged sword like the one from the day before, a keening tone filling the air.
“It was not a request. I should not have phrased it as one.”
“No.”
As Russel said this, the moonlight peeking through the canopy intensified, casting him in a pale spotlight. His skin rippled, and his shaggy hair grew into a white mane that overtook his whole body as he lowered himself onto the ground, now standing on four hairy feet the size of tree stumps.
Where Russel stood was the biggest bear she’d ever seen, splotched, brown and white. It charged forward at the man with a great roar.
Numbly she realized they were here for her. How did they know she was here? How did they know her full name?
The prior, she realized was explicable by the strange people they’d met the day before, but no one knew her full name. Not even Dantes knew of that embarrassing remnant of her past life. Such a ridiculous name. But it was still hers, and she didn’t like letting go of what was hers.
She stumbled away from the window, quickly gathering her stuff. She barely heard the bell being sounded from across the way, or the shouts of the villagers. Her blood was singing in her ears. She would find Dantes first. Then they would flee. If these lunatic cultists were after her, she would leave the grove. Then the people here would be safe, right?
She mistily recalled Dantes saying he was staying in the empty house below Violet’s. It was usually reserved for travellers of the Florial Jungle, but it seemed Dantes’ earnestness had won the people over, for they’d given him the accommodation normally reserved for their own people.
As she made for the door, she saw Zinnia in the pale light.
“I was going to say you need not venture out, young Mitty, for we would protect you. I see the look in your eyes though, so instead I will say this: You’ve chosen your path, have faith in yourself that you’ve chosen wisely. True strength is the will to press on despite failures” she said. “Now fly, girl.”
She fled the humble healer’s house leaving behind her own safety. Below she saw Dantes fending off three cultists with that staff of his, making quick, long sweeps that kept them at bay, fearful to approach.
As they should be.
She flicked a pepper ball towards them from above before sweeping down the stairs like a Shadow in the night, not bothering to wait to see its effect.
On the other side of the stem, she saw a long sleek jaguar with two long tendrils sending crackling strikes towards the sword wielding cultist leader. It was bloodied, but defiant. Even as she observed though, the moon seemed to burn into its wounds, a faint smoke staunching the blood and knitting its flesh together. Russel would be fine, she told herself. If that was in fact still Russel.
Reaching the ground, she moved silently along the path, an omen of carnage looming large and unseen, but no less real. The village would burn if nothing was done. She looped around behind where Dantes was fighting the cultists. One lay on the ground, leg bent at an unnatural angle, groaning with pain. Across the way, she saw the cultists woman from before, eyes closed in prayer with a few men alongside her.
Subtly, but suddenly, the shadows that once cloaked around her pulled away, as though rejecting her, the moonlight highlighting her against the treeline. In unison, the ones chanting in prayer looked at her, and she knew they saw. A chilling shiver rain up her spine as something cold gripped her. The sound of fighting faded, and she could her heart beating in her ears.
She turned to run, into the jungle, anywhere else, she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. She saw she was flanked, a large man striding towards her.
Better one than many. She dashed towards him, hurling a pepper ball towards his chest, this one created using the failed ghost pepper experiments. It impacted, and a cloud of pinkish powder enveloped the man.
The tentative silence that had settled into the night was broken by a loud scream of pain, the man ahead of her immediately dropped to the ground, rolling and rubbing his eyes and swearing. He’d be lucky if he ever saw again, she thought, jumping over him.
She heard shouts from behind her calling for reinforcements. She withdrew another ball from her pockets, this time a near transparent candy. She popped it into her mouth, crunching down on it to break it up faster. Sweet and spicy rolled thick across her tongue in a heavy-handed harmony.
She pushed onwards towards Dantes, no longer concerned about remaining unseen, though her form was flickering now, seeming to be made of smoke one moment before solidifying once again.
From the bushes on her right, another cultist came barreling towards her, jumping towards her in a tackle.
Rather than dodge, she stepped through him, slashing at his calf on the way by, though it resulted in barely a nick. The cultist thumped to the ground behind her, having tackled with all his weight and caught nothing.
She kept running when she got to a little hill, barely a mound. On it, another cultist, but this one did not attack directly. She almost moved on, ignoring him, but he raised his hand into the air. The movement held purpose, and she tensed, searching around for an effect. No magic was being cast, or hidden weapon being flung, or trap sprung.
Then she saw it. Up on balconies overlooking the grove were cultists with bows half drawn. She saw the man’s eyes now in the moonlight. They scorched across her with zeal and fear, piercing her traitorous shadows. Then they moved on, turning aside, towards the clearing across the way. There Dantes stood, panting with exertion, though his single opponent looked no better off, the others leaning broken at the base of a stem and in a heap on the ground.
“Priestess, we are here to collect you. Please come with us” the man said softly.
“I’m not your priestess, you crazy weirdos. Leave us alone!”
The man shook his head. “You are Princess Fuzzy Mittens Clark, high priestess of The Order of the New Sun. This need not be difficult. Come.”
“No.”
The man said nothing then, half turning and raising his hand higher. The cultists on the upper floors pulled their bows taut, but they were not pointing at her. She followed their aim… to see Dantes leaning against his staff, battered and exhausted, his final opponent lay at his feet.
“No” she repeated, this time with another purpose. Her insides twisted. She could not lose her friend. Not after all this. She’d already made her choice. The honey in her heart burned like hellfire. She did not want to. But she had no other choice. It was time to walk her own path.
The man’s arm reached its apex, and as he made to bring it down, she cut in.
“Stop! Okay. I’ll go with you. Just leave him alone. Please. And the rest.” The strength flowed out of her body along with the tension, leaving her weak and cold in the night air.
The man clenched his fist, and lowered it slowly, and with that, the cultists on the balcony lowered their bows and filed down their respective stairs like a swarm of ants.
The man nodded to himself and whistled, and after a few moments, a huge wasp descended between them. He circled around and tried to grasp her waist to hoist her on, but found he could not find purchase on her, his hands passing through her smoky form.
Feeling the effects of the candy quickly fading, she rolled her eyes and hopped onto the wasp herself, sitting right behind its wings in a leather saddle. Better than being lifted. She looked on as other cultists retreated towards their own mounts, departing the grove in no particular formation.
She realized haphazardly that they were in the air now too. She fumbled around in her pocket as subtly as she could, looking for… anything. Something that would mean something that she could leave behind for Dantes. There was nothing she had that would convey her regret at leaving him, and the choice she had made. Not even with a pen and paper did she feel confident in leaving something behind. Instead, she just dropped a little leaf baggy she had prepared the evening prior.
It wasn’t the way she’d wanted to leave it, but hopefully he’d get the message.
It was no goodbye, but she faced ahead anyway. It did not need to be a goodbye. They would meet again.
She knew it in her heart.
See you soon.