Chapter 7 – A Nest of Roots

The only sounds around Adam were the soft creaking of the chariot and the muffled steps of the terror bird that pulled it. As quietly as possible, Adam had chewed through several of the ropes that bound him. However, despite the impressive collection of rope strings stuck between his teeth, he wasn’t free yet. After multiple back-bending and neck-twisting manoeuvres, he still wasn’t able to loosen the bindings around his wrists or his feet. His blindfold still allowed only one eye to see. Adam tried to wiggle the rope strings between his teeth loose with his tongue and groaned soundlessly when even that failed.

Right, what are my options? I could let Caine’s humanoid foot-wipes take me to this ‘Palace of Origin’ they talked about. Sounds like the place where their ‘esteemed Lord’ would be, and maybe his servants will let some more info slip along the way. Hmm, palaces do tend to be heavily guarded, though. Plus, I need to check out this library for Emily and Oliver, which should be relatively close.

Another option was to make a lot of noise, drawing the attention of these ‘Roots.’ Theoretically, the enemy of his enemy could’ve been his friend. However, if they were affiliated with this Overgrowth, he doubted they were the kind of company he’d like to drink tea with.

Adam lay at the rear edge of the chariot, waiting until it would enter a bumpier part of the road again. Hopefully, he’d be able to land quietly before the blue idiots noticed. Soon, they hit a pair of uneven street tiles and Adam rolled over the edge. However, a piece of his coat clung to one of the planks. It caused Adam to fall with all the grace and subtlety of a sack of potatoes.

Shit.

The green-haired strangers ran towards him. “You said you bound him tightly!” the middle-aged woman with a prominent eyebrow-ridge hissed.

“I did! Just—”

“I think I told you to stay quiet!” the rather hypocritical woman hissed. She rushed up to Adam, heaving her staff.

Well, guess it’s time for plan B.

As his hands and feet were still bound, Adam rolled to the right to dodge the incoming strike of her staff. Dirt flew up from where his head lay a split second ago. Adam roared as loud as he could.

His opponents shivered and looked around. The rustling of leaves sounded through the massive thorn bushes of the Overgrowth in the vicinity. A scent reached Adam that reminded him of copper and uprooted ground. The terror bird raised its head and looked around in alarm.

“You imbecile!” the woman hissed hysterically, raising her staff again. Before she could strike, Adam swung his legs to the side and hooked his feet behind her leg. She fell with a yelp. Something hard struck Adam on his temple. Adam groaned and shuffled away from his attacker, but he was quicker and raised his foot to kick again.

Having few other options, Adam lunged forward to bite the man’s foot. However, the man quickly darted away and hit Adam’s bound arm with his staff. Adam growled in pain, right before the staff of the woman cracked down on his legs.

“Stay alive,” his heart whispered, sending waves of heat towards the bruised and chafed parts of his body.

With a grunt, Adam rolled to the side and dodged a strike to the head. He tried to create some distance, or at least not to lie in between them. However, his opponents were faster; the woman readied her staff and the man moved around him.

Using the same strategy twice, eh? Tsk tsk. I’ll need to get close though, they have the advantage of both speed and range.

Adam rolled over onto his back, his feet directed at the woman. She swung downwards, but Adam kicked out his legs and deflected the staff sideways towards the ground.

“He’s still dangerous!” the man said as he ran towards Adam’s head.

Adam used the velocity of his sideways kick to turn upright and sit on his haunches. “Damn right I am,” he growled. At full force, he sprang towards the man and head-butted his sternum. Bones in the man’s chest cracked loudly. Wide-eyed and wheezing, the man stumbled back and clung to the chariot for support. The terror bird made honking and screeching noises in clear panic as it tried to loosen its reigns with its beak.

Adam lay on the ground again and turned his legs towards the woman.

Suddenly, a small round object fell a couple of feet to her right and burst open, spraying thorns in all directions. She yelped and took a few stumbling steps. Her right side was covered in thorns and her arm hung limply from her shoulder.

Rasping, shrieking, and clicking noises erupted from the bushes of the Overgrowth to their right. Four gaunt creatures, vaguely humanoid in shape, darted out. Their bodies were almost completely covered in the same vines and thorns as the Overgrowth. Feverish eyes looked through the roughly carved, driftwood masks, each with a glowing green symbol at the forehead.

One carried a crude pouch out of which it pulled a fist-sized nut, similar to the one that had sprayed the thorns. The other warriors had arms that ended in gnarled scythes or spiky claws.

The terror bird screeched and ran towards them. The man stumbled when the chariot was pulled away behind him. Wide-eyed, he stared at the attackers and tried to lift his staff. “There’s… a Shepherd amongst them!” he gasped with difficulty.

The woman’s mouth opened in shock and the colour drained from her face.

Adam crawled away towards the side of the street, capitalising on her moment of distraction. Not my fight, good luck. Behind him, the sounds of exploding nuts and shrieking battle cries erupted. He hid behind a pile of ruined household items, like a dining table and a baby carriage.

Stamping its feet on the ground, the terror bird kept several Roots at a distance with its savage beak. The man already lay on his belly, he whimpered as two Roots carefully bound his hands behind his back. Despite the odds, the woman kept swinging her staff with her one good arm. She hit one of the Roots hard enough to tear its head from its misshapen shoulders. Adam frowned in confusion when the Root’s body crumbled and dissolved into a pile of dirt, bugs, and twigs. She didn’t pay attention to it though, as she stared further down the street.

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A bizarre group of about ten Roots walked towards her. They were clumped together tightly, carrying a wooden, throne-like chair and their supposed leader between them. The Shepherd was an emaciated figure, whose whole fragile body was made of driftwood; the same material as the other Root’s masks. The Shepherd held a long standard, covered in unfamiliar symbols and reminding Adam of the standard-bearers within armies.

Slowly, the being turned its head towards the woman. The back of its deformed skull was elongated and twisted upon itself to form a spiral, like the shell of an ammonite. The air became strangely thick when it got closer. A strange power radiated from the Shepherd, prickling Adam’s skin as if he stood in intense sunlight.

The woman closed her eyes and exhaled before she hoarsely screamed her war cry and charged the Shepherd.

A Root beside the Shepherd reverently held up a purple quill. Devoid of emotion, the Shepherd used it to write in the air. One of the symbols on its standard glowed in green light. Several thorny vines on the ground reacted immediately: they writhed like snakes and lashed out towards the woman. She deflected multiple vines by twirling her staff, but others reached around her and wrapped her ankles. Despite the bloody gashes caused by the thorns, she kept fighting.

Adam frowned. What kind of sorcery is this? The Shepherd isn’t using any kind of gesture, so it can’t be Novaseering. Or can it replicate the gestures with its quill somehow? It could be part of the Forbidden Arts, but I don’t see any sign of emotion so that seems unlikely. The green colour is similar to whatever sorcery Caine used in the Starwing Grove though...

Emotionlessly, the Shepherd wrote in the air again and a different symbol on its standard glowed in green. As the strange Invocation activated, similar symbols appeared all over the gnarled surfaces of the vines. The thorned pieces of Overgrowth that were wrapped around the woman’s ankles spread the symbols over her skin. Once the nasty enchantment had reached her face, she froze in her tracks and seemed completely immobilized.

Adam hastily turned towards an alley to his right and crawled as fast as he could. His arms, legs, and chin ached but he didn’t care; all that mattered was getting out of sight. Way to go, Adam, get distracted! Surely that won’t get you bloody murdered around here! Somewhere behind him, the terror bird screeched. The hissing, clicking noises of two Roots followed, although one of them was quickly silenced.

Adam sighed soundlessly as he reached the alley and crawled in, hoping to find some cover.

The sound of footsteps and a rasping breath came from behind him, along with the scent of uprooted earth and copper. Adam rolled over onto his back. One of the Roots bolted straight towards him, stretching out its savage, clawed arms. Its feverish eyes narrowed and it screeched in what seemed like desperation.

No. Not like this. Adam’s heartbeat quickened and trails of heat flowed through his body. It has the advantage of range with those long arms, but they look inconvenient for combat up close.

The Root pounced; its claws ready to rake. Just in time, Adam raised his legs, placed them under the Root’s belly and kicked out to throw it over him. Shrieking like a swine, the Root landed face-first with an audible crack.

Adam threw himself at the Root and sank his teeth into its left forearm. Tough vines snapped between his teeth, releasing a disgusting, bitter taste. The arm did seem to lose its strength, but the Root kneed Adam’s chin. Before he could react, the Root raked him across the face with its left claw. Adam screamed, aside from the pain and blood he felt a strange looseness in his nose and lips. His blindfold fell off in shreds.

“Stay alive,” his heart whispered, sending fierce waves of heat towards his face.

The Root raised its arm to slash at Adam again. He roared like a beast, bent forward and head-butted the misshapen creature with full force. With a crunch, its mask shattered. The Root sighed in what seemed like relief and its limbs flopped down lifelessly. Adam squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a scream as warm blood flowed over his face.

The Root’s body crumbled. Both the vines and the barely visible body underneath withered to dirt and twigs in seconds. A tiny, brightly glowing speck of light flew out of its remains like an insect and disappeared out of the alley. Adam panted for a moment, staring at what remained of his opponent. Oh wow, glad to see a normal phenomenon again. Yep, nothing strange going on in here.

After he found the brittle remains of his opponent’s claws, Adam moved his bound hands towards them. With a bit of difficulty, he cut through the ropes with the sharp pieces. He sighed in sweet relief. Now that he could use his aching arms again, cutting through the bands around his ankles became a lot easier.

His legs nearly buckled from sudden cramps, but he forced himself to stumble further into the alley. He crouched down in a corner between mouldy barrels and old crates and focused on his hearing for any sign of combat. However, the only sounds aside from his rapid breathing and the thumping of his heart were soft and distant.

Safe for now, Adam sighed deeply and tried to release the tension that cramped his shoulders and neck. After the rush of adrenaline, every wound, cut, bruise, and chafe across his body hurt even more. Hesitantly, he felt the hot wounds left by the Root, unsure if he really wanted to know how bad it was. Two long gashes ran diagonally across the left side of his face. The lower one cut through his cheek and upper lip, and the other one split his eyebrow and nose. He groaned, although it did seem the heat from his heart had already stopped the bleeding and was healing his wounds. Although his heart had been depleted of its unnatural energy when he was at the Starwing Grove, his heart had apparently ‘restored’ some of it during the time he was blacked out.

He held both ends of his split lip as well as his nose together so they could heal properly. Wait, if the claws went through my eyebrow and nose at this angle, shouldn’t it… Adam rubbed his eye. Oddly cool and hard as a rock, his unnaturally green eye was somehow unharmed amidst the hot skin. How? Adam groaned and let his head fall back against the wall behind him. I can deny it all I want, but the disaster of Ziecherhein really turned me into some damn freak of nature. But I guess I should be grateful, if I wasn’t cursed with this heart, I probably wouldn’t have made it out of Caine’s garden.

Adam sighed. He knew, just as well as everyone, that using the Forbidden Arts was an excellent way to reach damnation. And even besides the detail of his entire afterlife, having a whispering, seemingly sentient being trying to manipulate him wasn’t exactly the most comforting idea. His heart was like a damn vermin he didn’t understand, burrowed deep into his chest.

Then again, digging one of his hearts out didn’t seem like the healthiest option. And if he wanted to stand a chance at saving his family and friends, or even survive, he needed every edge he had.

Lo and behold! How the mighty hero crawls through the dirt! How he leaves his fiendish opponents of walking garden waste behind him in a strategic retreat! How he heroically squats in his castle of garbage in some shitty alley and ponders his next move.

Adam’s shoulders slumped. How he knows he isn’t half the warrior he used to be. He looked at his scarred left hand. It was hard to believe it had once beaten down Ajax, a general of the Prophet. A move that had made him famous across the land as ‘the Fist of Gotterburg’, bringing hope during the War of the Prophet.

But now? The very same arm was uncoordinated and slow. Muscles that once seemed like cables of iron had weakened. An undeniable rim of fat had grown on his belly. If he had faced Ajax and his monstrous mount today, he’d undoubtedly be broken beyond recognition.

Worst of all: maybe he could’ve stopped Caine if he’d just kept training these past years.

Adam curled his painful lip into a sour expression and resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. Snap out of your damn self-pity! Oliver and Emily are somewhere out there! He gently let go of his lip and nose, both stuck together in the right shape to his relief. Despite the pain all across his body, he got up again and cracked his neck.