Sandworms are widely believed to be intelligent, at least to some degree. To what degree, most cannot say — myself included. Not a single person on this planet at time of writing can really say they have the same level of knowledge as even your average bio major on Earth. Even so, a number of initiatives have been launched to study and preserve the Helsan species threatened with extinction by the climate crisis caused by the Great Discharge. This of course includes the noble sandworm, referred to as sunagmy by the natives.
The sandworm that had been standing off with Sanon and I was likely of the higher quotient for intelligence, and it made this clear when it made a low growling noise. It’s many eyes certainly gave off the impression that it was sizing us up. I could hear Sanon’s breathing rapidly quicken to a point of near hyperventilation when the massive creature let out a low growl.
The sound started in our feet, traveling into our bones until it was shaking our very beings. I could feel the low rumble disrupting the flow of my already erratic breathing. Looking over to Sanon I was beheld to a most ghastly sight. She always looked so full of life, even in her usual dismissive yet attentive haze. But now she looked nearly dead — the blood had completely drained from her hairs, leaving only a translucent keratin to convey a feeling that I could only guess to be abject terror.
Sanon was completely frozen in place. Any sort of confidence or bravery she once held was no longer present within her mannerisms. Her eyes were wide, she took a step back.
“Sanon, I need you to stay calm. We can take this thing.” I lied. Realistically, I might be able to put enough mana into a spell that would knock out its shield, but to break through it and kill it? Well, that would assume that Sanon could cast well enough to not discharge, and I hadn’t seen her cast like that yet.
The terrified dwarf shivered. “I am calm.”
Strangely enough, her hairs were standing on end despite a lack of blood flow to them. Some kind of other mechanism perhaps? She said that she hadn’t seen or heard of one of these things before, but it was clear that there was some kind of deep-seated fear within her. Not even I reacted like this until the fledgelings had died, and I had managed to force myself into motion. Had she encountered one in the past, but ended up forgetting for one reason or another? Was it just a natural response? I couldn’t possibly imagine, but this would be a conversation for later. Whatever the case, I needed to know.
The worm’s stance shifted, going from a defensive coil, to an almost inquisitive forward lean. Its gaze still pierced me as it approached the wall upon which we had found ourselves trapped. The low growl persisted, but increased in pitch somewhat, though to an untrained ear it sounded nearly identical to the previous growl. Not much time was taken for the growl to reach an unsettlingly high treble. It sounded like a mix between an air raid siren, the defensive growl of a cornered dog, and the hiss of an alligator.
The rational side of me knew that such a noise was not guaranteed to be a hostile one, but the irrational side of me only registered the change in vocalization as something negative. Something to be feared. In the face of something that I had considered already conquered, I was losing my grip. I couldn’t let both Sanon and myself lose our nerves at a time like this. We just escaped potential execution, and I would be damned if I let this be what finally did us in.
The worm brought its head ever closer to us. It continued leaning forward, all twelve eyes not once leaving my own. Its mouth briefly opened, before snapping shut. Its head persisted in its approach until it was hardly a few inches from me. The growl returned to the low, bone-shaking tone as the worm brought its head closer, closer yet. A mere centimeter away from my upper chest, the sharp collective tip where the four bladed jaws of the creature met nearly made contact with my collarbone. I could hear every detail to the creatures respiration. Like the insect-like creatures I had seen before, this one also seemed to have lungs. It was only logical, such a creature would need lungs to support such a massive size, the head alone could have fit over twenty of myself stacked long-ways.
I briefly stole a glance over to Sanon, who had remained frozen in fear. She continued her hyperventilating, though she seemed to have found the willpower to steal a glance my way too. Our eyes met, and for a brief moment her breathing slowed. I shot her a confident look, hoping to look like I had it all under control. I did not, to put it bluntly. I had absolutely no control of this situation. If the worm chose to filet me, then it would, plain and simple.
The worm’s head remained in position, its breath beginning to slow, and the low growl quieting. A slight downward tilt brough the flat side of the jaws to face me, as it made contact with my chest. A slight nudge, nothing more, before it pulled back. The worm let out an almost arrogant snort, covering me in the blood of those whose lives I had unwittingly cut short. It turned away, seemingly satisfied with whatever it was that it had intended to do, and began ‘slithering’ out of the town. It flattened a few more buildings in the process. I could only hope those buildings weren’t occupied. When it reached the earthen grounds past the stone pathing of the town, it dove below the tender earth, seemingly heading south.
Sanon and I remained in our standing positions, shocked by the encounter. We simply stood there at a loss for words. My own mind had gone quiet, as though whatever processing that might have been going on had completely ceased. Only moments later I would collapse to my knees, breathing ragged and vision blurred. It was in this moment that my mind returned to full function, almost instantly. Painfully. I couldn’t have done anything at all in that moment, I realized. There was nothing that I could have done to escape that situation, and whatever I had done to earn the mercy of that worm, I would hope to never do again. One look at the markings on my arms only intensified those feelings — the worm shared these markings. When I overloaded that circuit, it nearly fried my arms and every other part of my body. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was the worm they were using as a bonafide generator. Unethical? Most likely. Inhumane? Almost a guarantee. But by releasing that worm, I had inadvertently killed many, and ruined the lives of many more.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
At time of writing, I still have not forgiven myself for what transpired that day. Not a single person that survived that day would ever forgive me either. They had no obligation to. It was that day that formed an integral part of who I am now, and it was that day that drove me to do what I did only a few short months ago. I rewrote the future of this world in record time, and I can only hope that my successors will do better than I.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Sanon and I still had a full day ahead of us, and of the two of us, she had been the one to remain on her feet. Though whether she was aware of this, I do not know. Either way, it was she who emerged from her daze first. It was she who carried my nearly catatonic body off of the wall, and over to a building that hadn’t yet collapsed. And it was she who wrapped my hands in cloth that she’d found somewhere within the now dilapidated building. In the panic, I’d not noticed just how damaged my hands and arms had become.
Upon returning to my senses, I noticed something — my hands were quite swollen, and the scorched scars on my grasping appendages had not faded. Despite the obvious injury, I felt no pain. My sense of touch remained, and yet I was numb to the pain that should have been coursing through my rather inflated hands.
That circuit must have done a number on me. I wonder if the worm had a similar experience?
I sat up and observed my environment. The house had clearly seen much use, though now I doubt it would see much use for a while. The ceiling had collapsed in a few parts of the house that were visible from my position. There appeared to be a shelf of some kind that had toppled, all manner of item had been perched atop it. Spices had spilled onto the floor with books joining them. What particular kinds of books they were was unknown to me — their contents hidden from me by the language the inhabitants of the house spoke.
Sanon wasn’t in the room, she had apparently been searching the house for something, though she hadn’t been too confident that she would find it. I could hear her rummaging about in the rooms nearby, and around twenty minutes later she returned, dried leaves in hand. She placed the strange leaves in a bowl before taking a small stick-like object with a blunt end and crushing the leaves in the bowl with it. I now know this to be a mortar and pestle, which are apparently a common household item on Helsa.
I tried standing, though this proved difficult when I realized that my limbs were remarkably stiff, my legs especially. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we be leaving the town?” I asked, ignoring my current disability.
“You are in no condition to move right now, stay put.” commanded Sanon. “I told you that you would regret messing with that circuit, but here you are.” she sighed. “Mana shock is what your condition is called, and lucky for you, I’m familiar with it. Even luckier for you, I found a medicinal plant used to treat the aftershock.”
“Why do I feel like I know what that is.”
“I don’t know. Do you??” a confused Sanon asked, almost expectantly.
“Maybe some enlightenment is in order? O great Sanon, what is your wisdom?”
I had guessed that it was similar to what would happen if you hooked yourself up to an electric grid back home.
Sanon facepalmed with an audible sigh. “Mana shock occurs when a person is exposed to an unprotected mana circuit. The one you ‘interfaced’ with was protected, but it sounded like you just blatantly ignored the deterrent spell, which would certainly be in-character for the Max I know.
“Anyway, normally people only have brief exposure, which will leave someone stunned and possibly in pain for a few minutes. But for people that have long term exposure, in this case you, it can result in paralysis and a loss of the ability to feel pain.”
I’m no electrician but from the sounds of things I just touched a live power line or something. Or not, electricity is weird, and mana seems to be even weirder.
Upon hearing this, my stomach sank. “Is- is it permanent?”
Sanon finished crushing the leaves as I spoke, and poured some water she had spelled into the bowl. She stirred for a moment before handing the not-tea off to me. “It will be if you don’t drink.”
I was never one to turn down free food, which is not what this was. Even so, I was also never one to turn down free medical care, especially considering where I come from. I put the bowl to my lips, and took a pensive sip.
It tasted like bitter ass. I nearly spit it out when the first drop of the vile stuff contacted my tongue. I forced myself to down it, briefly entertaining the idea that this world might not have germ theory. I then quickly evicted this idea from my mind, not wanting any more anxiety than was necessary. It took me a moment more to down the rest of the unfortunate concoction, though after doing so, I learned that the agony had not yet ended.
The aftertaste. Oh god the aftertaste. This stuff was already bad, but have you ever had that pink antacid stuff in gas stations? Yes? Then you have some idea of the aftertaste, though it was somehow just as rancid as the initial taste.
“That was horrible.” I deadpanned.
“Yeah. It is. But you should be coming out of your paralysis in the next couple of hours, so good job on stomaching it. I’m proud of you.” Sanon patted my head, which prompted me to shoot her a glare.
So anyway, the next couple of hours passed, which were quite boring, let me tell you. As it happens, being nearly paralyzed in the middle of a run-down house is quite boring. Sanon stayed right there with me the whole time, watching the door for any unwelcome visitors. Unfortunately Sanon wasn’t much for conversation at this point, so I resorted to reflecting on my journey so far. Looking back, I had been a goddamn idiot.
I should have died back in Dilanja when I fought the sandworm. My experiments in Tokal were dangerous and to be completely honest, how the initial blast from the bonding spell didn’t kill me is beyond me. Something like that should have left me injured at least.
And to make matters worse, I just kept doing it. I kept overextending myself without having any prior knowledge as to what I was doing. I continued doing this even during my journey with the caravan, which did not go over well with Brom. Sanon is tolerant of me, but I can definitely tell that she gets concerned.
And now? So many people died. So many died because of my actions. I can’t keep doing this. Most people would have stopped by now, realizing that it would eventually escalate to this, but I didn’t. No, I decided that referencing an anime would be a good idea. I decided that blowing up a wall, and then shutting down a town’s power grid to bust out of prison would be a good idea. And what did that accomplish? I’m alive now, sure. But how many people died? How many people lost their homes, or their families? I’ve been treating Helsa like a goddamn tabletop RPG. This is real, and I need to get with the fucking program.
…
Once I had recovered to a point of mobility, Sanon and I made for the caravan.
----------------------------------------
The caravan was gone.
Shit.