Bo hadn’t changed much over the past… year? Somewhere around there, anyway. Keeping the passage of time straight is a pain; on top of the years having different numbers of days, and the days themselves not being equivalent, physics doesn’t even have the good grace to make it consistently inconsistent. But he had last seen Bo in the cold season, and it was the cold season now – allegedly; the near-boiling swamp had its own opinion – so that was that.
“[Been mostly quiet on the eastern front, yeah.]” There was a seed of disappointment in his voice. “[But I got some action. Mostly the weaker unspecialised guys, but there’s been some smokers around lately.]”
His skin was the same vivid blue, slightly translucent and splotched with black bits like a tropical frog. He was maybe slightly taller, though Lu didn’t trust his memory with such small details.
“[Well, I’m glad that you’ve done well for yourself.]” Something mottled and rubbery made a grab for his ankle, and he jumped off the water’s surface. He came down about twenty metres away, the strangely clear liquid deforming under his boots without breaking. Ah, Water Walking, you would have been so useful crossing through the bog that first time. I certainly won’t be losing my shoes now! “[Not to change the subject, but is this part of the swamp always like, ah, this?]”
Stretching out in all directions was a strange landscape, entirely different from either Knifefish Bog or the southern swamp that he had gone through with the Junk Dog army. There was no vegetation at all, and water covered almost everything. It was so clear that it was basically invisible, just like the lake that Poison Swamp City was built on - but unlike the lake, these pools were infested with all manner of beasts. They were also heated, to the point that visible vapour was coming off them, forming a haze that meant it was easier to see the bottoms of the pools than his own companions darting through the murk.
Not that the wildlife seems to mind the visibility. Or the heat. He dodged another grasping appendage, this one camouflaged to look like old wood. None of the warriors seem bothered either. I suppose all that flab insulates them?
Bo turned to the little red ball hovering over his shoulder, the illusion that Lu was using to extend Interpreter’s range. “[Nah. We flew over this whole place on the speeder, remember?]” Ah, well, maybe a little? “[Things have gone all out of whack. Shamans say it’s a bunch of different stuff happening, but none of ’em can agree which stuff.]” He sniffed. “[It’s probably just the Sun hanging around. Joe’ll come past at some point and chase it off, then this’ll all go back to plants and stuff.]”
His tone was so blasé, all Lu could do was shake his head. Ah yes, certainly nothing to worry about. Just an angry God-like being making a nuisance of itself. Perfectly normal.
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Two days’ out, and they were beginning to hit the end of the swamp. The ground was a lot drier, though still not dry, and it was going from earthy brown to chalky white. Not a bad pace, but not a good one either. They were slow enough that the speeder had to let off the gas to keep from leaving them behind – well, from leaving him behind, really. The others were likely slowing down for him as well, though they had the good grace to not mention anything. Unlike the Warboss. But he would make much better time now that they were on solid ground. Lu was looking forward to trying out his first dedicated straight-line movement art in the field; the training grounds weren’t quite large enough to test its limits, and streaking through the sect for no reason would have been terribly improper, so he had yet to experience the maximum speed.
“[Callin’ the halt! Everybody huddle!]”
At the bellowed command, the speeder drifted to a stop, and the disciples did the same. Jiang was an ill-tempered sort and liked to complain about the lost time, but Lu was grateful for the daily chance to rest his legs. Physical training or not, I’m still the most frail person in the group.
The warriors piled off the vehicle, first Bo dismounting from the back, then Warboss Dreamfever who travelled sandwiched in the middle. Finally, Bone Softener took his grip off the handles and disembarked, shaking his hands as his stiff fingers worked themselves out
Bone Softener had also changed little during Lu’s absence, though markedly more than Bo had. His hair was longer, the thin braided tail going down to his hips, and there was something different about his face that Lu couldn’t quite place. Maybe he used to have a beard? I want to say his complexion was rougher, before. And he was definitely larger, though his growth was more horizontal that vertical. As for the third member of the squad…
Dreamfever was a large man, though less so than Bone Softener, with comically yellow skin and a perpetual scowl. Lu would compare him to a giant lemon, but at least a lemon made a pleasant garnish; Dreamfever was nasty, going around giving everyone the evil eye, including his own men. His voice matched his expression, never dipping below furious, and he seemed to have a particular dislike for the humans.
And Lu would be lying if he said that he didn’t dislike him right back. But he’s extra firepower, so it’s worth it to put up with him. Whatever it was Lu could sense now, the Warboss had a lot of it – more than Bone Softener and Bo put together. Describing the ‘flavours’ that the warriors were putting off was difficult, but if pressed he would compare it to undercooked bread. And Dreamfever was an entire bakery.
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…No, that’s a terrible metaphor. It doesn’t describe it at all – when you eat something, the texture informs things as much as the actual flavour, and this is an entirely different sense, anyways.
Further, the feeling that the three men were putting off was mostly the same thing, so at least he was certain he wasn’t getting a whiff of their actual styles of consumption. But the magnitude, and also the frequency, were different; Dreamfever was almost always broadcasting, and Bo was the same whenever they were on the ground, but stopped when they were in the air.
Bone Softener was the odd one out; he only did it while he was eating, which was one of the few points where the other two stopped.
Perhaps I’m sensing them actively working their consumption? I know that Bo consumes water and Bone Softener rot, so that fits well enough… But Still Water didn’t have any water around during the sit. His seemed to be based more on his emotional state than anything. Maybe I’m feeling their waste ki?
He would keep pondering it; there was very little to do while travelling, after all.
The warriors ate, the cultivators meditated, and there was sporadic conversation between the two parties. Bo was friendly and Bone Softener polite, so they were much more popular than the Warboss, at least with the less combative members of Lu’s party – those being Lu of course, as well as Lady No and Hu Kuon… and Tai Sho. And Ging, as long as the conversation was about combat – he was actually the only one who could stomach Dreamfever for any length of time. So really, it’s only Jiang and Lady Scarlet who are antisocial.
And at least once a day, they would spar. He was mildly disconcerted to find Tai Sho taking an interest in his friend – though, or perhaps because, they seemed to get along.
“[Yes, that looks to be quite the fierce art. I’ll look forward to seeing you use it on the Junk Dogs.]” Tai Sho made a crushing motion with his fist, the contextually savage gesture somehow appearing elegant when formed from his hand.
Bo huffed. “[If you wanted to see it in action, you shouldn’t have dodged.]” His wide grin became more restrained. “[But nah, I won’t be using Water Jail; I just wanted to show it off once. It’ll be way too dry, once we go past this point. Out here I don’t need to be too careful with how much power I use, but once we hit the desert proper…]” He looked up, and shrugged. “[Or maybe not. Horrible Swamp is all screwed up, so for all I know the Junk Pit might be underwater when we get there.]”
Tai Sho chuckled. “[I doubt it. And it would be unfortunate besides; what we want is inside.]”
“[What, don’t know how to swim?]” He teased.
Tai Sho’s nostrils flared in mock outrage, and he held up a fist dancing with lightning. Their spar resumed, and at that point Lu decided to stop eavesdropping and concentrate on putting in a good showing against his own opponent.
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“[Hey, Bo.]”
The warrior stopped digging through his supplies, and sent an inquisitive grunt Lu’s way. Tai Sho was being distracted by Ging, so this would be as close to a private moment as they would get.
“[There’s something you should know. Tai Sho and I… have enmity with each other. For reasons that are hard to explain.]” He had waffled for a bit between explaining everything, and being vague, and eventually settled on vague. I’m not sure if what Tai Sho did would even be considered distasteful here. I was in Poison Swamp City for barely any time at all – I can’t say that I know anything about the nuances of their culture. He had his interactions with Bo and some children’s stories, also from Bo. And then his time with Junk Dog, which was an entirely different group. All he could really say in this context was that cannibalisation was both commonplace and mundane; eating someone for their power was something completely normal. And Bull’s history is his own, anyway. I’m not going to spread it around unnecessarily. “[So I would prefer that you… not get too attached. I’m not going to stop you from interacting, but…]”
Bo’s eyebrows came together. “[You gonna fight it out?]”
“[Ah, not- not me and him, no. A friend of mine he wronged will have that honour.]”
“[Hm.]” After a moment’s pause, he went back to rummaging in his sack. “[Okay. If you do fight it out, I’ll be there with you.]”
Internally, Lu let out a sigh of relief. I’m not even sure why I was so worried, now. Obviously Bo would do the right thing. “[That’s all I ask. Thank you.]” He inclined his head, and turned to go.
But a meaty hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks – even with his third realm physique, Bo was a wall of muscle that couldn’t be budged. “[But in exchange, you’re gonna give me a rematch! You’ve been avoiding me, Lu, and I’m pissed about it!]” His smile took the edge off the words, but Lu could detect a hint of battle-lust hidden in the expression.
Externally, Lu let out a sigh of exasperation. “[You and Bull would really get along. I’m almost afraid of the two of you meeting.]”
They didn’t spar that day, or the next. Dreamfever was apparently so dissatisfied with their pace that he kept the speeder in the air well into a third day – the warriors ate while flying, slept in shifts while flying, and refueled the speeder, also while flying. Bo complained about a cramp in his leg constantly, and every few minutes Bone Softener would look back to make sure they weren’t being left behind.
Lu wasn’t concerned about that, even though the speeder had accelerated to full tilt; now that they had hit sand, he was easily keeping up with the vehicle. He was even outpacing the higher realm disciples’ base running speed, if only slightly, a fact which filled him with validation for choosing one particular movement art.
Desert Crossing Fist was a confusingly-named art that actually worked across a wide range of terrain, both desert and otherwise, as long as it was flat. He could have theoretically used it even in the boiling swampland, but it wasn’t compatible with Water Walking; he would have had to walk across the bottom of the crystal-clear monster dens, and even with the armour he had no desire to stick any part of his body into those festering pools.
He took a step, and the spell magnified the effect by orders of magnitude. It almost felt like he was the one flying, the gently rolling dunes blurring past his peripheral vision like streaks of wet paint. He wasn’t even pushing it as hard as it could go; the qi cost was variable, and keeping up with the speeder was only taking half the maximum amount. Magnificent choice, Lu. Look at Jiang over there, using Sixty-Four Steps of the Grass-Cutting Cheetah. So pedestrian! Like a peasant, trailing after nobility with his head held low!
On a whim he pumped just a little more qi into the spell, and took the lead. With a whoop, he turned and looked back at the speeder.
Bo laughed, whooping back, and Bone Softener’s gentle smile got wider. Dreamfever just scowled harder. The other cultivators joined him, even the standoffish pair, and for a few moments it was the warriors trailing behind.
At this speed, we’ll make it in no time. We’re already deep into Junk Dog territory – tomorrow, or even today, I’m sure of it! Bull is as good as saved!