The bond, now fully formed some 20 minutes later, floods with a fresh set of sensory input and stream of consciousness, causing the young chick to look around frantically as all of the new information streams inside his juvenile mind as if he can see it in the very air.
But, soon enough, he grows more used to the sensation, sending tentative feelings of curiosity over both sides of the bond. Artemis and I respond in kind, with gentle feelings of support, comfort and affection sent slowly in the inverse direction.
As he grows more used to our presence both in his mind and physically near him, he grows more adventurous, hopping over our splayed limbs as we lay seated on the ground, pecking and sniffing at my clothing and Artemis’ cute toe beans.
And, as we prepare to depart his former home, we feel his melancholy, his loss, in stark relief as it is added to our own such emotions.
But this time, he manages to send an image from his memory through following his feelings, one that sends me from near heartbreak to burning rage in a split second.
The image depicts several men dressed in familiar robes launching fireballs at the tree and family of hawks, I assume blaming them for the disappearance of their man and our fallen hawk friend, unable to communicate with them as she did with me, could not try and pass the blame on to us to spare her family.
The Marvelous Mage Clan!!!!
Unbidden, a feedback loop begins in our minds, each of us feeling our special kind of rage but amplified by the next being in our bond, and then the next, and cycling over and over until, in near unison, we roar, or our closest attempt anyway, out as loud as we can, our combined power and raw emotion shaking the very trees!
ROAR!
ARGGHHHH!
CHEEPP!
We each collect ourselves and bury the emotion that had taken such control of us, coming back to ourselves in the present.
I take a knee next to the small hawk and assure him, “We will make them pay, little one. Also, now that you are part of the family, do you have a name? Or would you like us to give you one?” I ask kindly.
Through our bond, a soft, quiet voice whispers through, “You choose….”
Taking a moment, I place my hand to my chin in the age-old method to stoke a brainstorm into kindling, searching my mind for the perfect name.
Moments later I suggest, “How about Horus?”
Yes, I really do like the names of deities for my animal friends.
Sue me, it’s cool.
Anyway….our newly named friend seems to agree, hopping around in celebration, his sadness forgotten if but momentarily.
And so, at my offering, Horus hops his 12-inch-tall form into my arms and I place him upon my shoulder, a perch with which he can learn and grow from us and our engagements with enemies and friends alike.
As we walk out of the only home he has ever known, he looks slowly back at the spot where his families’ bodies had been cleaned up by the System, saying his own, private goodbye.
For my part, I make a vow to the spirit of Horus’ mother, that her child will know love, will know support, will know family, and finally, will know revenge.
We make the trek back to the Viking Village and arrive just before sundown, although we are surprised to notice that the noise level of the settlement spreads out into the surrounding forest for nearly a half mile, a significant population boom seeming to have happened in our long absence.
Artemis and I, with Horus acting as a passenger, push our way through some bushes and into the large clearing near our first battle here two weeks ago, the ground showing evidence of further battles since.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Hmm, seems that daily test is still happening. Wonder how strong the opponents are now?” I muse to Artemis.
My furry friend, still not much of a conversationalist, shrugs her massive shoulders in indifference, her only musings about mainly whatever is in front of her at any given moment even after gaining further Intelligence, it’s just who she is and I wouldn’t have her any other way.
I chuckle a bit at her answer before taking in the sight of the crowds of people working, talking, training and eating their dinner in the main square of the village, its size somehow much larger since we were last here.
Now, the longhouses number nearly 3 times as many, all centered around the now auditorium-like mess hall and the smaller building that houses the Settlement interface system, likely the source of the village’s growth that Grover was so excited about on our last stay.
We maneuver through the crowds, Artemis and my shoulder-hawk getting some strange and sometimes even fearful looks, but many remember us and our defense of everyone, so no incidents occur, thankfully.
I manage to spot Belina in a deep conference with Grover at a small table set just outside the interface building, likely getting up to speed on all that has occurred in our absence.
I push my way through and greet them, “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.”
“Nova! It’s good to see you, my friend. I think we could use your help right about now, if you continued to grow like you did before we first met, then you may be our best hope. Please, things are about to get…difficult.” Grover replies, concern etched into his eyes, I notice.
“Explain it to him. He can only help if he knows what the deal is.” Belina says, clearly somewhat exasperated over whatever this situation is.
“I was getting to it.” Grover says with his hands raised in surrender before continuing in a more sedate fashion, “We were approached by a group, a very powerful one, that controls a large part of the Great Forest beyond our boundaries and deep into the wilds. They declared ownership of everything within the forest though, their emissary making clear that we would either serve, depart or die. They acted like they already owned us! Suffice it to say, we told them where to shove it. Ain’t no one going to tell us how to live, but then scouting and hunting parties began disappearing….” He says, a sad, torn, and yet defiant look twisting his visage.
I feel a suspicion begin to creep up my spine like the most heinous of snakes, wrapping me up but good in its slimy embrace.
He continues his story, that slithering snake of suspicion coiling around my backbone tighter and tighter at each word he utters, “That bring us to earlier today, a group of theirs came through, acting like they owned the place, making demands of us, a bunch of noblesse oblige bullshit if I have ever seen it. We told them to fuck off, but they vowed they would be back, with an army too, sooner rather than later. So, is there anything you can do to help?” he asks at last, imploringly.
“I have but one question…
What does this group call themselves?” I ask in a cold, dead tone, my companions both hawk and hound alike staring down Grover with the intensity of a thousand suns themselves for his answer.
Taken aback at our intensity, he answers somewhat haltingly, “Th-the Marv-Marvelous Mage Clan?”
A dark smile, filled with the promise of pain and dismemberment, makes its way unbidden onto my lips.
Artemis growls deep in her chest, shaking the very foundations of the building just in front of us.
And Horus….Horus throws his head back and for the first time in his young life, cries out the piercing, keening call of the great hunting hawks!
SCREEE!!
Grover, even more taken aback at our collective reaction, asks with widened eyes, “You’ve heard of them, already??”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. We did not get the greatest first impression from the last man we met that represented them, nor some of his fellows we missed out on meeting not long after. We fully intend to track them down, one way or another, and ensure they pay their due.” I reply cryptically, my dark smile still in place and indicating a deeper meaning to my innocuous statements, should anyone be listening for it.
“Well, I fully expect them to return in force tomorrow. Likely to try and bully us into accepting their ‘dominance’ after giving us some time to consider their inane ‘proposal’. We just don’t have enough fighters based upon what the emissary claimed they had, even if he was exaggerating by half, they will still outnumber us greatly.” Grover explains worryingly.
“Don’t worry about that. Get some scouts placed about a mile out from the camp in the direction they came from before and notify me immediately on their sighting. Artemis and I should be able to more than even the odds, Horus will just be overkill.” I direct him, finishing with a little joke as his anxiety seeming to recede ever so slightly with our intent to take some of the weight from his shoulders.
Weight that feels like nothing but air upon my shoulders, as this was something we were going to do anyway, for Horus and his family.
As Horus sends feelings of gratitude and anticipation over our link, I turn to Belina with a wry smile, “You should take the shield and second line weapon users for some training. Perhaps some of Burgess’ methods will encourage folks to advance a bit more before any battle that may come on the morrow. Getting familiar with everyone else is probably for the best for them too, should help them fight harder if they have some stronger bonds between them.” I explain.
“Oh, they will definitely get into shape after I’m done with them. Should be fun to be on the giving end and not the receiving of his methods this time…” she replies with a crack of her knuckles, her own dark smile filling her delicate features, the expression more caused by mirth than murder as mine is.
Turning back to Grover, I ask a very important question, “So, do you have a system Shop?”