If you’d ever tried to hiccup at the same time you were swallowing water, you’d know how I was feeling right now. In an instant all the adrenaline and giddiness from winning the battle with the raven mutants instantly drained away. I was left standing there, incapable of movement. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Brook was having a similar situation.
The new challenger stood twice as tall and wide as the previous birds. Although I could tell that it was still an avian, only its wings were feathered whereas the rest of its body was covered in dull green scales. Unlike the other birds, this one had a longer snake like neck that ended in a semi-human face with a permanent grimace on it. It was also disgustingly obvious that this creature was a female.
“Mmm, two little birdies have fallen from their nessst. How dare they invade my home and kill my children.” The creature’s cadence shifted as it spoke, as if common tongue did not come naturally to it. All the while it observed us from a distance while tilting its head back in forth, not making any move to disarm us or attack. If that was the case, I was going to take advantage of the situation while I could.
It was then I realized that my current immobility wasn’t just anxiety like earlier, but I was paralyzed somehow. As if she could read my mind, the tips of the monster’s mouth tilted upwards in a malicious grin as she revealed a row of naturally sharp teeth.
“Ssssince you were ssso kind asss to drop by for dinner, I should give you a show. If I’d know you were dropping by, I might have cleaned up the nessst, sssuch a messss.” With the reptilian beast standing at almost 12 feet I expected to be able to feel its movements, even just a slight tremble. When it progressed toward Brook however there was nothing to give it away, not a tremble or sound. It didn’t even snap the dry branches that made up the nest underfoot as it stalked toward its prey, a natural predator.
It reached Brook in only a couple steps and towered over her sneering. After taking a couple of whiffs, the monster whose home we’d invaded reached down and ran her hand over Brooks form. I struggled to react, still paralyzed and rooted to the spot. Unable to speak or act, I watched the hand work its way up Brook’s side before lingering on the side of her face.
‘Ssssuch a sshame to kill sssuch a pretty little bird. Sssuch soft skin-” A cry of pain from the beast split forth from its unnatural maw. As it was talking it had been running its hand across Brooks face only to linger on her lips. I don’t know how she managed it, but Brook broke free from the creatures grasp long enough to snap out and bite its long gangly fingers. It pulled back before striking Brook so hard across the face that she flew backwards and slammed into the wall.
In that moment I was freed, and I burst into action. Now that I knew of its ability to stun us with fear, I felt better equipped to resist it. It worked almost like getting over a cold, I’d developed a slight immunity. I still felt the monster’s presence heavy on my back, slowing my movements, but it was no longer something that could disable me.
I stabbed at its side and scored a blow underneath one of its wings as it reeled backwards. Unlike the previous birds, this one knew what its advantage was and took to the air. Once it was out of spear range, I took a moment to check on Brook. That seemed to anger the beast though, because as I started toward her the creature lowered in altitude. It was obvious to me that it would dive the moment I turned my attention away from it.
I cast my eyes around looking for literally anything that could help me turn the tide of this battle. A slight groan from my left told me that Brook was still alive, or a zombie. I was going to go with alive for now because as far as I knew zombies were just fictional characters or had gone extinct long before I was born.
The beast did not seem content to wait. As it realized that it literally held every advantage and that waiting could only ever decrease its chances for victory, it dived at me. I’d been trained to hunt wild boars, and other dumb beasts, by setting my spear against the ground and allowing them to use their weight against themselves so I decided I would give that a try.
I braced myself for impact and held my spear in the trajectory with the butt against the ground. This beast however had a keen intelligence and did not murder itself. Instead it veered slightly and took the spear across its already injured wing, lashing out with the other hand and sending me flying to the other side of the decrepit cabin. I slammed against the wall with enough force to feel it splinter behind me before slowly sliding down.
As I struggled to breathe, I twisted to try and find the creature. It was currently nursing its injured wing, licking it with a long disgusting tongue, while staring at me with a tilted head. The smile appeared on its visage and I started crawling away. Brook was nice to talk to and all, but it would help nobody if we both died so I looked for some shelter until I could catch my breath. I hadn’t had such a hard time breathing since Dillon and his friends tossed me from the cliff into the bay and I landed on my stomach. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that somebody had filled my lungs with sand and dirt before capping it off in my throat.
On top of all that I had a blaring interface notification that refused to be muted like the others, making it harder for me to think.
[Warning: Vitality at critical levels. Internal injuries possible, external injuries pretty obvious. Health is sub-ten percent! Seek shelter and medical attention!]
Right, maybe the notification wasn’t the issue so much as the precariously tender spot on the back of my head that was both numb and throbbing at the same time. A cackling laughter reminded me it was time to stop internally monologuing and figure something out. The creature started laughing louder as it painstakingly slowly made its way over to where I lie.
As the crackling reached an all-time high, a whine drew my attention to the outer ring of the nest I was located inside. I managed to spot Sophie through my bleary eyes and reoriented myself to crawl under the shriveled bushes she was under.
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I drew myself inside of the makeshift shelter ignoring the scraping and tearing of the bramble. I wasn’t sure how the whole vitality thing worked, but my Status screen now read ‘Impending Doom’ which I didn’t think was the best, but I was also pretty sure a couple more scratches wouldn’t be my death. Now securely under the bush I reached for my spear, only to realize I didn’t have it.
It was located across the clearing, half piledriven into the ground and the top half crumpled like a can that had been stomped on. My skinning knife was still strapped to my leg, so I pulled it out and tried to hold it in front of me. I was acutely aware of how painful it was to breathe still and assumed that I had several ribs that were cracked, if they weren’t broken that is. Either would make sense to me right now.
“Are you a birdie or a sssssnake? Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. Making me work for my mealsss. No worriesss, I’ll pluck you out like the little worm you are.” The voice was eerily getting closer and closer without any other noise giving it away. I was going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do to save me. Thanks to my selfishness in wanting even a few more moments, there was even a chance Sophie was going to die now as well. She was cowering behind me, scared for the first time since I’d found her.
No. I reject my death. I am the protagonist in my own life, so it was up to me to save myself and everyone else here. The first time Sophie found me I had been dying to a rat and she went out of her way to save me after I’d accepted death. I was tired of just lying down and waiting to die every time things got difficult. That isn’t what heroes do, and that isn’t what a future magus would do either. Sophie had put her life at risk to secure mine, and it was time that I do the same in return.
I reached deep within myself, to that part of my soul that spoke to me during the fight with the rakopian. I felt around my soul, searching every crevice for that inspiration that allowed me to craft a spell and save my life. My entire being trembled and shook while I groped for that spark that would save my life.
“Gotcha,” I felt my leg get accosted and I was slowly dragged out. I kicked out with my other leg and managed to dislodge the hand and backpedaled deeper in my plant-made cave.
“Wasssssting my time, bad morssssel.” I felt the structure of the nest shift slightly as the creature tried to haul itself into the opening, slowly opening it farther to accept its girth. “There you are, get over here worm. It’sss sssnack time.”
It was now or never. I reached out to the dead plant life around me, and the living plants that slowly peaked out between branches and logs every now and then. I poured my soul into the spark of creation, adding fuel to the fire that would hopefully save my life. I spoke three words. But in these three words I threw the weight of my entire soul, of all my mana, of all my dreams and aspirations. I put all of my hope in those three words, and they spoke mountains more than any book ever had.
“Entangling Roots. Growth.” I did not have to speak to cast a spell. Most people didn’t, but using words and motions usually helped reduce the cost of the spells and increase potency. I also had a theory that it further allowed you to influence the effect of your spells, using your words to project your intentions to the spell as it formed. As it was, I was attempting to use more than my maximum mana. I was literally being a begging chooser. Begging the universe to allow me to cash two spells totaling 1 mana over my maximum and projecting my will that I needed it to be more potent than the spells would have been normally.
Whether it was because there was some overlap between what the spells actually did and that saved me mana, or some god or another had taken a liking to me, the spells both cast in short succession and erupted forth into the environment. The plants burst forth with the power of a raging wildfire, instantly enwrapping every part of the monster in reach. That was a significant portion considering it had bent over to start digging me out of the tunnel I was hiding in.
The [Minor Growth] portion of the spell had the added effect of increasing the amount of grasses and plants that enwrapped my attacker. I thought I could even see a couple saplings that had grown from tiny seeds lying dormant in the soil to assist in the cause. Additionally [Minor Growth] had made serious headway toward the goal I’d set with it when casting. The brambles and thorns of the dead bushes that crafted the wall and roof of my cavern had impaled the beast from all sides after enlarging to the size of a small spear.
The creature let out a gagging noise as blood poured from its mostly humanoid face. I wiped the stray flecks of blood from my face and just laid still, staring at my foe and waiting for the faint struggle to stop.
When I was convinced it was done moving, I closed my eyes, ready for unconsciousness to take me. As I drifted away however I remembered that I wasn’t alone here. I needed to check on Brook. I fought off the enclosing walls and forced my eyes open, looking for an alternate exit now that mine was blocked by 700 pounds of raw turkey.
Above me, light was trickling in. Apparently, when I spurred the dead brambles into growth toward my foe, they stretched that way and after impaling it, were dragged forward when it fell to earth. This created a skylight in my cave that, while not big enough for me to get out, was a good start. With no energy left in my body I forced myself onto my knees and pushed at the crevice with my arms and shoulders.
I don’t know how rats and cats did this, as the feeling of forcing myself through an opening that, by all means, was too small to fit me was very unpleasant. Once again, I was reminded that I’d likely cracked several ribs, but I managed to worm myself out. Pun not intended, of course.
I stumbled across the nest to where Brook was lying to make sure that she was still alive. I was aware of several notifications trying to pester me, but even if I’d wanted to read them, I wouldn’t have been able to. When I reached what I thought to be Brooks slumbering form, I slowly bent over to check her pulse. I wasn’t a healer, but I’d been taught basic first aid by the hunters in the village.
I turned her over onto her back and felt at her neck. I pushed the thoughts of how soft her skin was out of mind and concentrated. Finally, I felt a weak pulse and sighed in relief. She had a nasty looking head wound that was bleeding profusely above her hair line, but it seemed to be clotting and slowing down. Since I was already crouched over her from checking her pulse, I decided I’d better check for breathing.
Her breathing was very soft, but I could feel the gentle warm air push against my ear every so often. It didn’t sound to me like she had fluid in her lungs, which was a relief because I didn’t really know how to treat that.
I made to stand so that I could retrieve my pack and get salve to slow bleeding and help prevent infection. At least that was the goal, but as I pushed my arms against the ground to shift my weight and stand up, my vision finally gave up and I collapsed forward. The last thoughts I remember as I drifted off were related to how warm and soft the ground was today.