Chapter 3 – Trial

A series of further visions has revealed itself to me, the great Emyl, during these past cycles.

They alternated between the dark room from before, and what appeared to be the paved roadways of a large human capitol city. Despite my avatar being one of the numerous humans walking about their daily lifes, I felt outright distress upon being exposed to the gazes of this city’s inhabitants.

Further down the alleyways I encountered a vast line of shiny carriages driving up a hill on small wheels, yet pulled by no animal, and unlike any aether-driven machine I have ever seen.

The next vision took me to the interior of a warehouse of sorts, which was much more comfortable for its lack of people. I was sorting through packages and crates with labels written in unknown runes, performing the monotone work until a threatening figure rose its voice at me - and forced me out of the vision from sheer fright.

…

Even a great mind such as mine was puzzled by the content of these fragmented visions. The one thing I could say for certain was the fact that their holder was a puny human of unknown origin and a person of weak mentality. To be honest, it was quite sickening to witness their slave-like life firsthand.

To me it seemed that they were part of a world similar to Erdh, but living in a surprisingly tidy city with unprecedented use of fine engineering and some type of highly simplified architecture. I was not sure whether such a place really existed on Erdh or anywhere else.

The source of these visions was also not completely clear to me – But I was sure that they only started appearing shortly after Stalker has given birth to those children. It must be some kind of mental connection to one of the younglings that must have been established during the ritual that I performed on Stalker before. And judging from Gemini’s reports, it could have something to do with the pale little thing he named ‚Runt‘.

It was a given that this Runt’s soul is that of an incarnated spirit or human. The memories that were shared with me could have just as well been an elaborate fake, with Runt being some manner of sleeper agent. The content of those visions piqued my interest nonetheless, perhaps I could be able to replicate some of these technologies with the right help.

Ever since I woke up from my long slumber, I have been facing new unknowns year after year. It filled me with a great dread to not have every string in my hand. A horrible dread indeed, not unlike I have felt a century ago, back when I first fled my original domain after that dastardly attempt on my life…

And how I still remember that cursed night so vividly! The gods of war and hunger were my brethren, yet I, who embodied the plagues and hordes, was to be sacrificed for their greed!

But on one thing they were right: In the end I was the one who let himself be made a fool by my naive sympathy for a mere mortal.

A well-known agony was once again pulsating throughout me as my anger welled up. These cursed marks placed upon my body by those traitors were like chains of burning steel, pulling ever tighter with each passing year. A constant reminder that my greatest mistakes go by the names of affection and trust.

I must hurry with my plans, for who knows when this remnant of the killing ritual will end me.

To restore my status as a widely feared god will be the only thing to prevent me from dispersing into the aetherial maelstrom. I am naught but a lowly spirit of nature in this form, just like so many millenia ago…

But now, it was time to congregate with my trusty messenger on Erdh, to receive report about my still-growing future servants. The beast known as Stalker will soon do me a great service through this offering of hers – And hopefully prove to me that saving the life of a lowly beast was not a waste of strength.

Changing from the imposing shape of the feathered Lindwyrm into my more modest human form, I laid my hand into the aetherial stream and focused - Setting my goal to the crumbling ritual site, within my squalid domain on the material realm of Erdh.

As if by a sick twist of fate, this domain was the first one I established myself in during the span of my existence, millenia before abandoning it to join the pantheon that reigns over the Golmon – only to be betrayed in the end.

I emerged from the weathered circle of carved stone after navigating the perils of the aetherial stream, the shockwave my sudden appearance rustling the concealing overgrowth around me. To visit Erdh like this was a dangerous and tiresome affair, but it is necessary also.

To have a messenger was convenient, but even someone as I should be wary of spending all of their time in ivory towers – the tales in which mere servants end up taking too many freedoms and thus harming the ends of their masters were numerous enough as is.

I donned the veil that would prevent my weakened, yet still pulsating presence from distorting my earthly surroundings, lest the higher spheres would enforce their harsh rules on what is left of me and my domain. A second veil I have cast on me also, to prevent the senses of lesser beings from noticing my visit.

…

As the seasons went by in the screaming woods, all remaining whelps of the litter did a magnificient job growing up to formidable size. Even the runt that Gemini did not trust to survive so long was now living strongly, sometimes being accompanied by her sister Swift.

Runt and her siblings could not be called whelps anymore, for each of them has successfully matured into a beast that could bring down game by itself.

Especially Brute has become a menace to the local ecosystem, as he was now almost as big as his mother and preyed on fully grown Thornhogs by usage of his strength alone. Considering the stolen knowledge I have used in the artificial conception of these whelps, it was no surprise for additional mutations to emerge.

But Brute was truly a brute after all, as his body quickly outgrew his rather stunted mind – his hunting instincts were not very sharp, and even at his age, he had yet to speak a word of beast-tongue like his mother and siblings do.

Speaking of mutants, Gemini admitted that he had quite the troubles following that beast he named Swift: The recordings on her were patchy at best, with many spying eyes lost, but as noted before, she was already going on hunts long before her siblings were weaned off.

Contrary to Brute, she grew up to be stealthy and graceful like Stalker, and used the venomous spines on her tail with uncanny finesse. Not unlike that weird runt, she was exceptionally quick-witted and showed a great deal of curiosity.

Not long ago Gemini risked his life pulling her away from one of the sulphuric cracks in the forest to avoid her burning her face. It was amusing to see how the whelps have ended up growing on him. Mayhaps it was a parent’s instinct reemerging from the time when he was but a simple animal himself.

Then there was Fury, who has been as much of a menace as Brute, if not more so. Being already born with a ruthlessly territorial nature, she had no qualms shedding blood whenever or of whatever she pleased.

Even for me, it was delightfully freightening to see her lure other creatures in with the tongue of beasts just to mutilate them the very next moment.

I have to correct myself – She was not just territorial, but bloodthirsty in a gruesome and refined way that a mere beast could never be. Indeed, she had the potential to strike true fear in the hearts of man, making her a great candidate to become even a lord of beasts – provided she practices some restraint against her future vassals.

The only creature of the forest she still kept her distance from were the giant, armored herbivore-lizard creatures roaming the volcanic platteau, as the tongue of beasts fell on deaf ears to them. But even then, she would attempt to snatch away their younglings out of spite.

According to Gemini, Fury seemed to rarely kill for food – Instead she would just take a few bites out of whatever fresh body was available and move on. Even Stalker had no success reigning that child in, making me fear a little for the integrity of my domain.

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Fang was no more, as he was killed by his sister Runt during the last season of wind, a month after their birth. While it is true that Stalker did nothing to stop the fight in which her son was killed, she still requested a keepsake of Fang. She appeared to be satisfied with having his preserved pelt and cleaned skull placed in an alcove next to her nest. I still wonder if she had acted the same if it was Runt instead who died during that duel.

Now about Runt, who was still behind on her growth, and kept more closely to her mother’s territory than her siblings. I have lost hope that she will ever grow up to be larger and heavier than a human, considering the frequent bouts of sickness she fought through.

However, I was still excited to see how she would develope, as her extraordinary skill in using the beast-tongue posed a great merit – though the early discovery of aetherial power came not without problems, as Gemini would report to me some time later.

...

The night was young and a remainder of warmth from daytime was still felt in the winds blowing through the forest. For Runt, this was her second season of wind, and the temperatures were indicating the quickly approaching season of fire. By night, the screaming woods were permeated by the first chirps of crickets, the hooting of owls, screeching of tiny winglizards and the smell of beasts marking off their territories for the coming mating season.

Runt spent most of her days stalking the underbrush in search of prey, sometimes being accompanied by Swift or Stalker. Both of them demonstrated the proper way to approach a target; it was by studying its behaviors and striking from the shadows the moment it abandons its defenses to feed, drink or rest. A great variety of strange and not-so-strange animals were on the buffet for Runt’s kind: Amongst them a deer with a mossy green coat, the younglings of dangerous thorn-covered hogs, some manner of large, beaked herbivore reptile and many kinds of amphibians and platter-sized insects.

With her light grey coat however, Runt was easy to spot and suffered many failures during the hunt, even with her quick learning ability. Runt tested herself on a variety of fruits and plants as well, only to quickly experience the ill effects a herbivore diet had on her stomach.

Her days were mostly spent in frustration, as the more wary prey animals skillfully avoided her. She was forced to come up with other ways of gaining sustenance, and mostly turned towards fishing as her primary food source.

The scales on her front paws were convenient for this purpose, as they allowed her to strike through the water with little resistance and hook her claws into the sizable fish inhabiting the murky waters. At the bottom of the waters usually dwelled orange-black salamanders and fat, striped toads as well, but having made negative experiences with their poison in the past, she strictly avoided them – though, her instincts somehow decided that the colorful patterns made them look appetizing rather than threatening.

Deciding that toxins were not on her menu today as well, Runt instead struck out to grasp a rock-colored fish with helmet-like facial scales and muscular fins.

After dragging the seabeast thrice her weight out of the water with her fangs, scraping off the sharp fish scales with her hard forelimbs was an easy task. Enjoying a meal of still-twitching seafood, she would always recollect particular memories from a long time ago. Remembering bits of hazy memory, she believed to have eaten raw fish like this together with some type of sticky grain, but failed to recall the name of the dish.

Runt’s moments of mental clarity became longer and more consistent, at this point making her practically fully aware of her own existence. With this, she was to be considered an „awakened“ beast now, just like Stalker. Runt was the first to awaken to her sapience, closely followed by Swift who was likely still a month off at this point. Runt was fluent in the beast tongue despite hardly ever being trained by Gemini or her mother, while her siblings just have started to form first words and sentences.

It appeared her mind recalled more and more cryptic bits and pieces of memory, often being twisted into nightmarish visions during which she would beg for mercy and cry in her sleep.

Some other, more peaceful days, Runt encountered her mother or siblings while patrolling the forest for convenient fishing spots. While all of the children have taken up residence away from their birth nest, it seemed that Stalker still looked after her offspring and made sure they would not stray too far away into foreign territory. During these encounters, Stalker would take her time to teach her children in the beast-tongue and various survival skills.

The thing she emphasized the most was the use of the spiny tail that all of her kin bore. It was not a specialized hunting weapon, but rather used to fight off other predators and humans in particular.

„Tense up the muscle… here“, she explained to Runt as she was giving the scaly section of Runt’s tail a light squeeze with her large armored paw, suddenly forcing clear, hollow spines to unsheath themselves from underneath the scales. „No poison yet. Did you eat no toads?“ She asked with an agitated tone. „Of course not! They taste horrible and made me see weird things last time!“, Runt answered in distress. Once again, Stalker scolded her daughter for such behavior – Especially the easily-spotted Runt would need to hone her weapons, even if it meant torturing herself with poisonous prey until her body adapted to it.

Stalker prided herself with bearing the strongest poison of most predators here, as hers stems from a deadly breed of wet-skinned, blue-and-yellow winged reptile. One poke of a single spine was enough to stop the heart of a human in short time, and was even able to kill most creatures bigger than herself with a full hit.

As Stalker was giving further instructions to Runt and demonstrated the correct way to deliver a venomous lash from many different angles, Runt could not help but notices the encrusted claw marks on her mother’s right hind leg. The spaces between the wounds led her to believe that the cause was a creature about half as big as Stalker.

„Mother, did something attack you?“, Runt asked her in a sudden feeling of concern. Of course, there were other feline beasts besides herself prowling through the forest as well – So-called ‚Agruar‘, a particulary slender and agile type of large, jet-black wildcat that are known for their scream-like vocalizations. At the first encounter, Runt was drawn in by their similarity to her own kin, but they had none of her monstrous traits and spoke no beast tongue. Usually they steered clear of Stalker’s territory, but occasionally Runt would see one of them sniff the marked trees at the border of her domain, before swiftly running away upon recognizing the smell of a real monster.

„No. I argued with Fury. She is a strong child, but also a fool. I had to use the voice on her to protect myself.“, Stalker replied. „I commanded her to end her rampages. Gemini told me she even tried to kill him as well. At this rate there will be much less prey left for us by next season, and humans may come to hunt her. You do well to avoid confrontation.“

The thought that Fury would even strike out at her own mother gave Runt a shock. If this goes any further, this crazy beast may attempt to kill Swift or Runt herself. The sense of security she felt since moving far out of her birth nest and away from Fury took a heavy hit.

„For this reason as well, you should train your body! And do it more seriously!“, Stalker continued, almost as if sensing Runt’s worries. She was about to take her leave to teach her other children, when she stopped on her way out and turned back to her daughter.

„I have an idea – For you. Your need to improve is the greatest, so I give you a task.“ Stalker moved closer to Runt with a mischievous expression. „And if you do well, there is a special reward waiting for you, Runt. If you are up to it, that is.“

Runt was unsure about the offer, but she did not feel as if there was anything to lose – Unless she was fed up with her failure of a daughter, and this would be a trick to get rid of her. With a sense of unease she recalled the night where she killed her brother, Fang, just so that she could claim a share of mother’s milk. She recalled how their own mother, Stalker, did neither bother to intervene, nor ever spoke of this event afterwards.

But there was no telling either how declining the trial would influence their relationship – A daughter that was not only weak, but cowardly and disobedient as well would have no right to enjoy the safety of her mother’s territory.

After a short while, Runt gave her answer. „Fine then. What do I have to do?“ At these words, Stalker smirked at little.

„It is not difficult: You go hunt - and bring me a prey I failed to catch. A Long-Ear in white, with a brown marking over the eye. I grabbed it by the ear, but it slipped away. For me, it is not big enough to bother further. But it will make for good exercise.“

As she was talking, Stalker put her armored claw over Runt’s face to let her take in the scent, the rough scales rubbing her sensitive nose in uncomfortable ways.

After a reflexive sneeze, Runt focused on the lingering smell, taking in the various nuances in the long-ear’s fragrance – Her sensitive nose told her the difference between sick and healthy animals, young and old ones, as well as differentiating individuals of the same species. Runt stood there in trance, pulling her lip up in reflex as her nose was working hard to further analyse and memorize the scent trail.

With the smell finally burned into her memory, Runt was on her way to begin the hunt.

Even with the headstart of knowing where to look, it took several hours of scouting to find the group of long-ears amongst which her target was hiding, at a place close to the border of Stalker’s territory.

The area was located uphill, where the forest began to be interrupted by plain grass fields, divided by formations of dark rock in a shape of what Runt judged to be ‚frozen rivers‘. In the distance, she could spot faint yellow columns of smoke rising from the further elevated center of the screaming woods.

Gemini once told her about how the center of the forest was a dangerous area not fit even for a beast like Stalker – it was a hellish place where one would be scalded by erratic eruptions of boiling water, or find themselves faze into unconciousness from unseen misasma.

However, it seemed not like Runt would have to make the trip to these treacherous lands, as the scent trail led her towards a smaller stretch of densely-packed trees. Runt worked herself through the dense underbrush and finally spotted prey.

The long-ears were fluffy, round creatures resembling huge rabbits with a brown coat, and they were occupying a forest clearing where they would feast on various grasses and flowers. Hiding between them was the one with a white coat and a brown marking around the eye. Runt waited for the wind to turn, and after a while she was able to confirm by scent that this one was the escaped prey that Stalker spoke of.

This one would be Runt’s target, even if they were one of the most endearing things living in the forest. „This is a just a trial, I must become stronger than this to survive!“, she thought, silently meditating to detach herself from her worldly desires. This was the wild, and she was the apex predator here. „I will not be stopped by their soft little noses… or falter at… their floppy… ears…!“

At the sight of the long-ears frolicking in the clearing, her hunter’s instinct was overridden by something else entirely, even making her forget the appetite she built up along the way. „This is just hunting practice! I can do whatever!“, she assured herself, leaping onto the clearing and towards the white-brown long-ear. All of them sprinted off in wild panic, hoping that someone else would be sacrificed to the fearsome predator in their stead. Her main target, too, suddenly went at record speed, taking sharp turns that Runt could hardly follow. As she was chasing after it throughout the brush and over grassy fields, her sides started to ache and her body was quickly building up an unbearable heat.

It did not take long until she had to take a break, losing the long-ear she now called ‚Eyepatch‘ out of her sight.

While this body was quite fast even at a young age, it was in no way suitable for a prolonged burst of speed. It took a long time for her to catch her breath and cool down as she was sitting under a bush, with her tongue hanging out like an idiot.

After a good while of resting and revisiting the chase in her mind, Runt started to follow the scent trail again, engaging in a hunt that would take far longer than anticipated.