CHAPTER 8-FORGOTTEN ROOTS
Above the craggy outcrops of rock, a murder of crows descended upon the feast of slain spider and the mysterious remnants of a forgotten world.
The cawing from over a mile away did not reach Busco, whose world was deafened by the sound of pounding feet and hearts. The group descended towards her, not daring to call out her name. The figures remained still, watching each-other closely, although as Busco grew nearer, he could see she was twitching with pain. With gritted teeth and a dangerous snarl, she wrenched the sword out of the earth, flying clumps of grass and dirt were freed from the ground, and with both hands, swung it fiercely at the figure ahead.
Deftly, adorned in a indigo cloak, with a hilt-less sword that curved at the tip, he leapt away from her, and once more her blade buried itself into the ground. The effort carried her, slumping over the sword, panting desperately. The blood around the coils that buried themselves into her arm had grown thicker, and its copper smell flew to meet them.
The hill was not steep, and they could see the two closely, despite being still over thirty feet away. Khol stopped, breathing heavily.
“I know that guy, I've seen him before somewhere.” He said between pants.
“He was on The Narwhal.” Busco said, fixating the cryptic, hidden fellow with his bright eyes.
The figure's face was still covered, but beneath the hood and wrappings, Busco could see his head switch, as if he was detecting the scent of the new comers. He made a clicking sound from within his hidden mouth, before aiming his blade truly at Sareta. With a gallant leap, he bounded towards her, blade moving swiftly.
“We have to help her.” Sir Douglas said, sword at the ready.
Sareta groaned, her long ears flickering. With both hands, she took the heavy sword and thrusted it to her attacked. The blades scraped against each-other, and the assailant darted back, poised, ready for the counter-attack. By now the four were running towards her. Sir Dougls dared to shout her name, and she turned back with wild, angry eyes. Her face was covered in dirt and blood, her hair was mattered and her denim jacket was torn in multiple places. For a moment, her eyes met Busco's, but they were no longer filled with warmth or hope. He was looking into the eyes of a beast, bloodshot and terrible. He felt a sickening fear strike his stomach and his spine simultaneously. He stopped before her, as did the others.
“Help me.” She hissed. “Please-make it stop, the sound, make it stop!”
She roared and contorted with pain. She dropped the sword, and it dangled from the wires within her arm. Her arms groped her shoulders, her head bowed in agony. The figure took his chance, blade balanced in both hands, leaping forward to strike once more, not noticing the crackle of red and black electricity around her.
With a deafening wail, she unleashed her hands, and with it, a wave of shimmering energy was sent forwards. The hands in the clock embedded into her sword spun wildly, and the figure groaned as the wind was knocked out of his chest. He flew backwards, the shock-wave carrying him several feet before he began to bounce, striking the ground heavily, again and again, his blade flown from his grip and barrelling down the hill. He skidded along the grass before finally striking his back against a tall oak tree. He gave a final cry out before succumbing to sleep, a cascade of leaves and acorns dropping around him.
“Busco, restrain her.” Master Gybalt said, brandishing his bracelet.
Busco nodded, parting his feet, and readying his hands.
“This way, Khol.” Sir Douglas growled, pointing to the unconscious figure beneath the tree, and the two ran to him.
Busco scraped his foot along the grassy hill, towards Sareta, listening to what the matter below him told of. It was difficult going from the hard, rigid stories of stone to the crumbling, unpredictable mass of earth beneath him, but time to concentrate was not a luxury afforded to him. He pressed an open palm downwards in front of him, and with a yelp, Sareta sunk up to her knees in the dirt. There was a dizzying flash as Gybalt dissipated, appearing behind the confused Eve.
She shouted and struggled, and Master Gybalt calmly set about his hands on the infernal sword, trying to wrench it away from her. She screamed, a sob of extreme agony melded within, as he pulled. The cords tightened, unwilling to relinquish their new host.
“Stop! Stopstopstopstopstopstopstop-”
Her fingers reached the hilt, and it whipped back to her hands. With a final yell, she held the blade close. The hands in the clock spun even further. Gybalt looked with a desperate fear at Busco, who was rooted in place, unsure of how to move. Her body tightened, dark electricity crackled, more this time, and far louder.
In the blink between seconds, Gybalt had leapt through space, and was by his said, grabbing him by both arms tightly, and the blue flash took over. There was a distant roar, she was still rooted into the hill, but they were by Sir Douglas, Khol and the unconscious fighter, watching helplessly as a dome of energy was born, rendering the hill-top in twain. It surged towards them, burning and breaking grass and stone. Busco hunkered himself down, ready for an impossible impact, while his Master stood firm.
With an outstretched palm, a gentle muttering within a deep exhalation, his palm began to glow an iridescent blue. As the destructive dome hurtled towards them, he thrusted his palm to it, gritting his teeth as it made contact. There were more flashes, high-pitched, nauseating screeching, but the dome began to dissipate, receding and shrinking as if swallowed by Master Gybalt's hand. It was vanquished, leaving only behind a stream of smoke and a weary mage.
Before them, the hill-top was left sundered. Grass had been uprooted, pockmarks were burned into the sloping surface. There was no longer a hill-top, such as a smouldered crater. There was nothing else on that hill-top. No cursed sword, no Sareta. They had vanished again. Busco's head began to spin, nausea filling his lungs. He fell to the ground, heaving on all fours. He felt the large hands of his friend gripping onto him, and an echo that might well have been his name. He was gently coerced into sitting upright, the hill top still spinning until it became the sky.
********************************************************************************
He woke up on his side. The sky had become stone, the rain was light but persistent, hammering gently on the canopy above. His body was hollow, a vessel for empty wind to flow through and out. His biceps and thighs ached, his hands sliding along the moist grass. He groaned as he pushed himself upwards, and heard the gentle pattering of a pair of hooves behind him.
“Busco?” Khol's voice was dulled and muffled.
Busco blinked, darkness framed the edges of his vision as his friend began to refocus. He moaned again, sitting upwards as his head began to spin. Khol offered him some water, which he gratefully accepted.
“Busco, are you okay?” Sir Douglas asked, also coming to his side, and placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Busco nodded as he wiped his mouth, the world began to reset itself. Sir Douglas affixed him with a concerned look, but gave an approving nod. He walked towards the tree, where the unconscious figure still lay, still covered in his cloak. He had been moved to his side, and opposite, Master Gybalt sat watching.
“What happened?” Busco asked.
“I think you were just exhausted.” Master Gybalt said. “That was a lot of magical energy you used today.”
Busco thought back to the jaws of the spiders, and their cruel masters, his body shuddering. He looked back to his master, who had bandaged the palm of his hand. The two shared a look of relief; a relaxation that they could spend a moment to relax.
“What happened to Sareta?” Busco asked with a croaky voice.
Sir Douglas only shook his head.
“Gone.” He said with an air of sadness and guilt.
“So what do we do now?” Busco asked, looking between the knight and the mage.
“What can we do?” Master Gybalt replied.
The hammering of rain drops on the leaves grew louder, and the clouds grew darker.
“She hasn't left any trail behind.” Sir Douglas said. “She vanished.”
“Did you teleport her, Master?” Khol asked.
“No.” Master Gybalt said. “I just dissipated the energy she sent.”
He held out the back of his bandaged hand, and placed it back before his lap.
“What about him?” Busco asked, pointing with his forehead to the sleeping figure.
“Not a peep.” Sir Douglas said.
“M-m-maybe we should w-wake him.” Khol said, with a hand to his mouth.
“Not a bad idea.” Sir Douglas walked carefully to them, and nudged their shoe with his boot.
Busco stood himself up on shaky legs and walked over to him. The distinctive indigo cloak had been soiled by mud. His clothes were simple and grey, his trousers scuffed and shirt was slightly tattered. He was slender, extremely thin, his exposed hands and ankles were grey, the colour of over-cooked meat. Busco felt something move beneath his lungs. Under the hood and facial wraps that covered the top half of his face, was a pointed chin, his mouth was ajar, pointed teeth stuck out like little finger-bones.
He's a Consumer. An actual Consumer!
Immediately, he backed away.
“Don't worry, he's not gonna harm you.” Sir Douglas said, crouching.
By the tree, he had confiscated his sword and a small green satchel, placing them by their own supplies. Busco kept his eyes on him, remembering what he said to him by the fire, back at the settlement.
He's here.
“Bu-bu-bu-but what if he...y'know...” Khol said, panicking only a little.
“He won't.” Sir Douglas said, gently tapping the consumer on the cheek with the back of his hand.
“He might try to, if he's been exhausted.” Master Gybalt warned.
“We won't let him.” Sir Douglas said sternly.
“Try to, what?” Busco asked naively.
Master Gybalt scoffed.
“Why do you think we call them Consumers?”
After a few slaps of increasing ferocity, the figure began to stir. His long, grey, thin fingers stretched out before him, groping at the grass ahead. Busco watched as his nose and ears twitched, sprung back to life. His long teeth clacked together, and he groaned in distaste. Sir Douglas stepped back, his hand on his sheathed sword hilt.
“Get up.” He commanded, watching the squirming creature.
The Consumer twisted his head as soon as it heard Sir Douglas's voice, detecting him without eyes. It's tongue darted between its teeth.
Clack.
“Who are you?” Sir Douglas asked, as the Consumer leant on its forearms, moaning as he stretched his back.
“Kad.” He said weakly.
“Your name is Kad?”
Kad nodded as he pushed himself up, now upright and kneeling. Sir Douglas looked taken aback, and studied the Consumer with a strange new interest.
“What happened with the girl?” Master Gybalt asked.
“What girl?” Kad croaked.
“The Eve you were fighting. The one with the sword.”
Clack.
“Ah. Her.” He said.
“The one you attacked.” Busco said aggressively.
“She attacked me.” Kad turned, staring at Busco with sightless eyes.
He began to sniff like a hound, his ears twitching.
“Ah, it's you.” Kad smiled.
Busco flushed, and he felt the eyes of the others staring at him.
You smell the same.
Before he could say anything, he heard the screeching of steel as Sir Douglas withdrew his sword, pointing it at the consumer.
“I know who you are.” He snarled, like a dog that had cornered a rat. “Kad, is it?”
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Kad shook his head, panic seeping into his body.
Clack.
“Don't move.”
Kad meant to move, his hand against the earth, his body poised to where his sword lay.
“Khol, Busco, restrain him.”
The two looked at each-other, then back to the squirming figure. He darted like a snake, and they pounced on him, each grabbing an arm. He tried to wriggle from them, his bony arms slippery in Busco's grip. He growled like a caged animal.
“Aeinon? What's going on?” Master Gybalt asked, rising.
Quickly, Sir Douglas walked to the sword and bag, and grabbed the satchel. He rummaged through, emptying the contents into the wet grass. Kad continued to wriggle.
“Stop!” He called out.
Sir Douglas reached down, finding a metal chain underneath a water-skin. He picked it up, the dull dark metal ended in a small wooded pendant. It was crudely painted purple, with a white, half-closed eye above a dot, and five short lines like lashes. Sir Douglas gritted his teeth. The Consumer hissed.
“Before we left the city, we were given a warrant by the guardsmen. A politician by the name of Silus Crassius was assassinated. The description was of a consumer, named Kad. Kad Ekisziku. That's you, right?”
“No, no. That's not my name.” He hissed desperately.
“You told us, remember? When you were waking up.”
“No, no, I didn't-”
“What, mean to tell us? Or are you going to tell us now you didn't really do it?”
Busco felt a coldness rip through his arms.
A political assassination? Maybe he was telling the truth. He must know the man with silver hands.
He felt his grip tighten, and the consumer gasped in pain.
“He was the one who killed senator Crassius?” Gybalt asked with an arched eyebrow.
Sir Douglas nodded, turning back to him.
“And now we'll have to take you back to New Peridios, and justice will be dealt.”
Busco swallowed, his mind a whirlwind.
“No, no, I didn't I didn't!” Kad hissed, wailing his head around.
“What about the girl?” Master Gybalt asked Sir Douglas, crossing his arms.
Sir Douglas rolled his head on his neck, thinking hard.
“The trail has gone cold. She could be anywhere by now.” He said, sighing with exasperation.
Busco felt that familiar emptiness deflating him of strength. His grip began to loosen, and Kad tried again to wiggle free.
“We'll bind his hands, take him back to Promise Coast. For now at least.”
“B-b-bu-bu-but, wh-wh-wha-what about Sareta?” Khol whimpered.
Sir Douglas sighed again.
“Maybe Master Gybalt, you were right. Maybe she is a lost cause.”
Master Gybalt remained silent, only studying the consumer. The rain began to lighten, the final few drops rolling off of the leaves. The sky did not brighten, remaining a sheet of ivory. Sir Douglas took a length of rope, and roughly bound the consumer's hands, while he still struggled.
“No, please. Don't take me back!” He pleaded.
“Enough.” Sir Douglas said as he tightened it.
From beyond the rolling hills, there were flashes of movement. Along the wind, the familiar screeching of an unfamiliar horn sounded. They turned to study the mountains, which were flecked with speckles of movement.
“It's more of those things.” Khol breathed.
“Looks like a search party.” Sir Douglas said.
“We should get going.” Master Gybalt said, picking up his satchel. “We won't be able to go the way we came if they're looking for us.”
“What do we do then?” Busco said, standing away from the bound Kad.
“It's gonna be dark soon.” Sir Douglas said, looking beyond the canopy.
“We'll have to circumvent the mountains until we get back to the treeline. We can camp there if need be.” Master Gybalt moved to the edge of the canopy, looking towards the forest that skirted the hillside.
“We can't camp with him in our party.” Sir Douglas said with disgust.
“We won't have a choice.”
The horn sounded a few more times as they quietly walked through the forest, but it grew dimmer and dimmer. Busco was given Kad's sword, hung along his back. As he affixed himself his own satchel, he made sure to withdraw his hidden knife, wedging it behind his trousers. His leg limped as he followed Master Gybalt, while Khol escorted Kad, and Sir Douglas behind them, always with his sword drawn. He had taken Kad's satchel, and gripped it with a sturdy hand.
The group remained silent as Busco thought about the Consumers. He was always taught never to go near them, they were dangerous and hung out in gangs. He had never seen the face of one, they all had wrappings and covers above the nose. He wondered if they too were marked in boils and warts.
After an hour of walking through the rapidly darkening forest, the storm struck. The rain hit hard, fierce bolts in between the mesh of leaves and twigs above them. Small flashes of light were followed after a few seconds by the deep booms of thunder. Although they were not exposed, they were still battered by the endless deluge. The soft ground and piles of leaves became sodden and slippery, and everywhere under-foot were hidden roots.
The dark grey sky began to give way to a river of gold by the time they found a clearing beneath a large ash tree. It's ancient bark melded together like scales, green moss giving way to pale lichen. Before them was yet a green field giving way to a series of hills, but the mountains were now memories.
The rain continued, but lighter now. All of the twigs and fallen branches around were damp.
“We'll stay here tonight.” Master Gybalt said, exhaustedly passing his satchel from his shoulder to the ground.
The others followed, slumping their bags with relief. Busco's arms cried out with the effort, and his legs felt like fragile sticks.
“I don't think we'll get much of a fire tonight.” Sir Douglas said tiredly, gazing out to the field. “If those things are still looking for us, probably safer to be in the dark anyway.”
Kad sunk down on his knees, twisting his wrists against the rope that bound him.
“Khol could always set fire to the sticks.” Busco said, trying to mask his own exhaustion. “Even if they're damp they'll still explode.”
Khol was rummaging through his bag when he heard the slight, and threw a pair of damp skivvies at his smirking friend.
“I'll scout the area. No point in resting if we're not sure it's safe.” Sir Douglas said, dropping his cloak and shield to the floor, and tightening the buckle by his sword.
“I'll come with you.” Master Gybalt said. “I'd like to see where we are.”
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Sir Douglas said, hushing his voice and stepping closer.
“They'll be fine, Aeinon. Right boys?”
Busco nodded, looking to the consumer, whose hands were still by his back. He swayed, defeated. Khol was standing now, nervously glancing between he and his mentors.
“We'll be fine, master.” Busco said, taking a bite out of an apple. “He's not going to do anything stupid.”
Khol gave a quick glance at him, not knowing if that was directed at him or not.
“Good.” Master Gybalt said. “Because if he does, I'll be there in an instant.”
Busco smiled cruelly at the unseeing Consumer, as the two elders struck forth, deeper into the dark forest.
Busco studied the Consumer as Khol nervously rubbed his hands, watching the two men leave. His mouth was moving, almost panting like a dog. Busco reached for his own water-skin, letting the still cool liquid heal his ravaged throat. He savoured the sensation, enjoying the feeling of it as he watched the parched prisoner. His fingers drummed on the skin, realisation setting in.
He's a murderer, he should be suffering.
Still, something gnawed at him. He sighed.
“You thirsty?”
Kad nodded weakly, still swaying.
He looked at Khol, whose eyes dared him not to go near him. Slowly, Busco stood up. As he stepped closer, the consumer's nose and ears twitched. He heard his breath beginning to wheeze. He stopped before him, watching the pathetic creature before him.
So mysterious, so dangerous. What a load of...
Khol shuffled anxiously, watching him. Busco steeled himself, staring at his friend in the eye. He roughly grabbed the indigo cloak by Kad's back. Kad winced, cringing tightly to protect himself. Busco held the water skin with steady hands, bringing it closely, before upending the water into his mouth. His long tongue flailed as it lapped up the water, and Busco watched with disgust. After a short stream, he released Kad who gasped, bowing forwards again.
He put his water-skin back, and looked at Kad.
“Come on, let's sit you down. Khol, give me a hand.”
Obediently, Khol came to his side, and the two grabbed an arm each, hoisting him up. The arms were bony, and the consumer was lighter than any man.
“Let's sit him by the tree.” Busco said, as they escorted him.
Roughly, they dropped him by the trunk, in between a mass of roots. The two stood in front of him, and easily, Kad moved his arms and tucked in his legs, bringing his bound hands past his feet and in front of him. He sighed, resting against the tree. Busco rested his hand on the tree, his body callign out for sleep. Something tickled his fingers lightly, and he twitched, before realising what was crawling on his hand were the long, thin legs of a spider. With a mild yelp, he pulled his hand away, shaking it wildly, and stepping back from the tree, stumbling over the hidden roots. Kad chuckled, a dark, disgusting rattle.
“Someone's a little jumpy.” He rasped.
“Busco, are you okay?” Khol said, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah. Fine.” Busco said, rubbing at his afflicted fingers, the silent fangs that dripped translucent venom still aimed towards him.
“Just a spider.” He said, stepping closely to his belongings.
Khol shuddered too.
“Oh X. Not another one of those.”
Busco chuckled.
“I wonder, what were they?” Khol asked whistfully.
“What, the spiders or the riders?”
“Both. I mean, were they like us? They had weapons and all. Does that mean they have cities? Towns? That kind of thing?”
Busco only shrugged. He looked back to Kad, the remnants of his face was lost to shadow.
“Have you seen them?” He asked the hidden figure.
There was a brief silence, where Busco suddenly wondered if he had fled through the darkness.
“Who?” He finally rasped.
“Those things. The spider-riders, those boily, warty things.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Kad said with a dark laugh.
“Y-y-you haven't seen them? Th-th-they were all about the m-mountains.” Khol added.
“They look pretty similar to consumers.” Busco said.
“I wouldn't know what that means. I've never seen what we look like.”
“S-s-s-so-so-so you-you're face is-is-isn't covered in w-w-wa-warts?”
“No, it's not.” Kad said, irritable. “Might be the was just similar to us. Might be some other reason, like evolution. No-one knows where consumers really came from, but I don't think we'd come from something like that.”
Busco nodded thoughtfully.
“They just look a bit similar. Except for they have warts, and you guys have...well, y'know.” He gulped, trying to imagine what exactly it was Consumers hid under there.
“I keep telling you, I wouldn't know what they, or I, or you look like. Still, they say Eves and humans were much more similar long ago. Maybe we were the same as those things, long ago. Maybe we were all connected by some...forgotten roots.”
Busco rubbed his hands together.
“So you haven't seen them?”
“Those from the mountains? No, I haven't seen them.” Kad snarled. “I've heard them, scurrying through tunnels, chattering to each other. I could hear the spiders, too, among other things.”
Khol gulped.
“Other things?”
Kad shrugged.
“Whatever they were, they were bigger.” He said, smiling throughout the darkness. “And they had lots more legs.”
Busco shuddered, his mind growing dizzy again and his leg throbbing.
The three remained silent for a few minutes, as Khol fidgeted and squirmed. Finally, he stood up and leant to a Busco who was, by now, struggling to stay awake.
“Busco?” He whispered, but still fairly loudly. “Busco, I have to go.”
“Go where?” Busco murmured.
“N-n-no, no-I have to go, Busco.”
“Oh.” Busco said, stifling a yawn. “Well, just go further in the treeline, then.”
Darkness had almost enveloped them.
“Ar-ar-are y-y-you gonn-gonan be okay?”
“I'll be fine.” He said, stretching, and standing up.
Actually, I was hoping you would.
As Khol swiftly pushed past ferns and crunching on sticks, Busco stood before Kad, and sat himself down. Kad was still looking directly ahead.
“Now that they're gone, you and I can finally have a little chat.” Busco said, shifting as the metal of the dagger bit into his back.
Kad's ears twitched again.
“Then we better be quick. The knight and the mage are on their way back now.”
“You better start telling what you know then.” Busco growled. “About the man with silver hands. You said he was here, at the settlement?”
Kad's teeth glared in the darkness.
Clack.
“He's here. I felt him, just as we all arrived.”
“Where? Where can I find him?” He said desperately.
“I know you, Quinn.” Kad said calmly. “Or, to be specific, I know your brother. I know him well.”
Anger flashed through Busco like a lightening strike. He was up, his hand coiling around the thin neck, pushing him against the tree, and Kad wheezed. The dagger was already in his hand.
“You better start making sense.” The dagger was pointed to Kad's cheek. “How do you know Havlok? What has this got to do with the silver-handed assassin?”
“Put that away.” Kad croaked. “You're not gonna kill me, what would your knight friend say of that? He'd say you're as bad as I am.”
Busco began to shake, relaxing his grip over the throat. He stepped back.
Clack.
Kad cricked his neck.
“I know your brother. Havlok.” He spat. “He killed that senator, not me.”
Busco struck Kad.
“You take that back.” He hissed.
Kad growled.
“He killed Crassius, now he's locked up in Braddock's Dungeon. I'm what they call an accomplice.”
He began to mutter beneath his breath, as Busco tightened his grip on his dagger. He stepped close again, gripping the cloak of his prisoner.
“I might not kill you.” He panted. “But I can still hurt you.”
Clack.
“It's the same ol' story, Quinn.” Kad cackled. “Consumer gets blamed for what one of you of the popular races does. Same with that silver-hands. He might've killed that mage mentor of yours, but it was one of mine that got blamed for it. Did you know that? Now he and that brother of yours are rotting in Braddock's together and only one of 'em deserves it.”
Busco gulped.
“What in Hel's name are you talking about?”
“We better wrap up this chat of ours, Quinn.” Kad smiled. “Your friends are back.”
Soon enough there was a rustle of leaves and branches, and muffled voices. Busco stood back, hiding the knife within his cloak. He stepped back to his satchel, and stashed it within. Gybalt and Douglas were continuing their conversation as they walked back into the clearing.
“-gonna be a while anyway. Besides, even if they found them, we have no idea what they'll be like at first contact.” He heard Master Gybalt saying.
“We've already seen what their first contact was like, Gybalt.” Sir Douglas replied. “If they're that hostile to the Recon forces, it's gonna be a massacre.”
They stepped between Kad and Busco.
“Everything okay, Quinn?” Sir Douglas asked cautiously.
Busco nodded, though it was hidden in the darkness.
“Where's Khol?” Master Gybalt asked.
None of the five slept well. The rain continued throughout the night, and the wind flailed through the leaves. When Busco did dream, it was of spiders and silver. He awoke to a picturesque dawn, as Sir Douglas roused them, checking diligently on Kad. Sir Douglas cleaned and re-bandaged his wound. His own wrist had begun to heal, but the strain of battle was still evident. They shared their breakfast with Kad, who was still bound.
“I'm surprised you didn't try to flee through the night.” Sir Douglas said, watching him carefully as he ate.
Clack.
“I would've if I could've, paladin.” He rasped. “It's been a while since I last ate.”
“B-bu-but you're eating now.” Khol noted innocently.
“Not like that, Khol.” Master Gybalt said gently.
“He means since he last consumed.” Busco added bitterly.
Clack.
“I would've been fine if that Eve didn't attack me.”
Sareta.
His thoughts of venom and metal hands suddenly vanished, changing now to the Desert Eve, naively wandering through the jungle, smiling as she did so. Suddenly, the salted meat in his hand turned to ash, and his stomach became iron.
“Ar-are we heading back to the settlement, M-Master?” Khol asked.
“We are.” Master Gybalt nodded. “At least for now. We'll reassess our situation when we get back.”
“Even if you can't come with me, I'll find her.” Sir Douglas said.
“I'll come with you, Sir.” Busco said, his eyes gleaming.
“I know, and I'd be thankful for your help, after yesterday.” Sir Douglas said calmly. “But you're not my student.”
Master Gybalt turned to him.
“If we can help her, then we will, Busco, but only if it aligns with our mission.”
“Yes Master. I understand.” Busco said sadly.
“Good.” Master Gybalt stood up. “Last night we heard running water, perhaps a mile to our east. It could be the Blare-water, and if so, following it will lead us back to the beach-head.”
“What if it's just another river?” Busco asked.
“Either way, following it to the coast is our best chance of getting back for now.” Sir Douglas added.
The group readied themselves, and set off, hugging the tree-line as they walked east. After a mile, the sounds of the river were evident, but not yet visible. The forest curved, and before them the grass-lands dipped, another series of hills and boulders that sloped into a depression. Carefully, they descended the damp stone and grass. Kad's senses were going wild, and Sir Douglas studied him.
“What's wrong?” He asked.
“I don't know.” Kad croaked.
The students looked towards Master Gybalt. He breathed in deeply. The rain and grass were fresh, and the wind was fulfilling. He fumbled his hand into his pocket, and retrieved a familiar gleaming gem. The broken shard of the Spatia-Sen was glowing.
“What the...?” He said to himself.
He moved to a pillar of rock that stuck itself up through the earth and placed a hand on it. The others watched curiously. Kad dropped his knees, placing and outstretched hand to the ground, and concentrating. Busco and Khol shared a curious look. Gybalt slowly moved his hand along, stepping to another jutting of rock. The crystal continued to glow. He walked to a stretch of rock, reaching up like a wall. He waved the Spatia-Sen around. Busco watched, not daring to believe that part of the rock-face began to glow.
It wasn't just a reflection of the shard, there was something on the stone, and it began to glow.
“Oh my X.” Khol muttered.
There was a symbol on it, glowing gently, a bright blue hollow circle and several dashes in the centre.
“What is that?” Sir Douglas asked.
Master Gybalt barely shrugged, stepping back to study it.
“Have you ever seen that symbol before, Master?”
“No, never.” He answered, a ghost of a voice.
Busco looked back to Kad, who had begun to stand, his entire face twitching.
“There's something else, over there.” He pointed with a grey finger directly to his left while still looking forwards.
Master Gybalt looked to Sir Douglas, almost as if searching for approval.
“We should investigate.” He said.
Sir Douglas rubbed at his neck.
“Alright.” He walked towards Kad, and gripped his cloak. “Come on, show us.”
They clambered over the rocks, and were led into another field of tall grass and spreading hills. There were more large boulders. The sky had already darkened, but there was no threat of rain yet. Kad led the way, a hunting hound amongst the fields. Occasionally he would drop his hand back to the ground and twitch wildly, and eventually led them to a rocky outcrop.
“Here.” He said.
Immediately, Master Gybalt began waving the Spatia-Sen around.
“I don't see anything.” He said, disappointed.
“Master?” Khol said, pointing to the ground.
Beneath Master Gybalt's feet, the ground began to gently exert light. Busco, Khol and Sir Douglas began scrabbling at the dirt while Master Gybalt still held the crystal, his mind lost to any and all thought. As they unearthed the stone flesh beneath the soil skin, the first raindrops fell. They wiped the soil free as best they could, and the same symbol was unearthed. The raindrops shone as they came into contact with the light, but did not dissipate. Gybalt place a hand on it.
“There's no heat, or any tangible energy. Kad? What is it you're feeling?”
“I don't know.” The Consumer shrugged.
“Are there anymore?” Gybalt asked.
Kad nodded.
“Show me.”
“Wait.” Sir Douglas said. “Shouldn't we be getting back to the settlement? This man is a wanted killer, after all.”
Clack.
“Later. Right now I need his help.”
Kad sneered as he was pulled away by Master Gybalt.
“Pull that face all you want. You'll still face justice.”
Clack.
“I didn't realise you were such a supporter for the Union Party, paladin.” He hissed.
Sir Douglas clenched his teeth, and Khol nudged Busco gently in his arm.
“What's the Union Party?”
“One of the political parties. You know, the ones who own half the seats in the council.” He replied.
“Bunch of racist, lesser-species hating assholes.” Kad hissed.
“Quiet.” Master Gybalt said.
“Oh my X, does that mean you're a racist Sir Douglas?” Khol asked, unaware of how he sounded.
Busco laughed at the absurdity, and Sir Douglas fitted him with a metal look.
“Of course not. I'm a paladin, legally I'm politically neutral, although if I was going to vote, I'd go liberal-the LPR.”
Master Gybalt scoffed.
“Right, like they are any better.”
“At least they're not the ones taking away my people's rights to work and vote.” Kad spat.
“In any case, you killed a man, regardless of motive or political ideology.” Sir Douglas countered.
“I did not kill Cassius.”
“You'll have your time to plead your case, Ekisziku.” Sir Douglas said with finality.
Master Gybalt hurriedly led them to the edge of the hill, where the ground dropped to a green chasm. Within, the river flowed.
“Where?” He asked the Consumer.
Kad stopped for a second, sensing it.
Clack.
“Tell me where it is.”
“Why? If I'm going to go to jail anyway, what's the point in helping you?”
Master Gybalt turned to the sightless figure.
“Because we are standing on ground that has not been touched in millennia. Now, if there is something strange in property, it is my job to investigate, do you understand? So if you can help me, I think you should.”
Clack.
“Only if you free me.”
“Absolutely not.” Sir Douglas said, clasping at his sword.
Master Gybalt held out a hand to the knight.
“I can't free you, Sir Douglas has a duty to enact for the law, but, being a master at the Astral Academy, I could argue your services to said academy might earn you the right to a leaner sentence.”
Kad chewed on this for a second.
“After all, what have you got to lose?”
Clack.
“It's underneath us.” He said.
“Underneath? By how far?”
“A fair bit below, I'd guess.”
Master Gybalt held out the crystal again, and peered over the grassy edge. Busco walked over, and felt his stomach tingle. It was around fifty feet to the bottom, but there were rocks and ledges that formed makeshift paths.
“Master?” He said, pointing down.
There was a ledge of sorts of cobbled stone halfway downwards.
“Let's give it a try.” He said, handing Kad over to Sir Douglas.
Master Gybalt led the way, gently down the sliding mud and wet stones. There was a short drop to the ledge, and into the hill, it opened into a cavern. The crystal began to glow. The cavern was shallow, and before them was a wall of mud and soil. Rocks enclosed the walls, and below them, the same rune began to glow.
“Busco, check that wall for me.” Master Gybalt said.
Busco strode forwards, placing his hand on the wall of soil. He pressed into it.
“There's something behind it, Master.” He said.
“Kad? Can you feel anything?”
The Consumer shook his head. Master Gybalt turned to Busco and nodded. With his palm, Busco pushed heavily, and the soil began to crumble and fall. A great crack was cloven into it as the soil fell around him, and behind it, they saw what was held against it.
“What the...?” Sir Douglas said.
Master Gybalt held the crystal close, stepping past Busco. Before them, were a set of colossal metal doors. There were no handles, or any other discernable feature. They were sealed together, reaching to almost ten foot tall. On each door was a black circle, with a curious white symbol within.
“What is this?” Master Gybalt asked, expecting no answer.