I catch up to Piia just as she steps onto yesterday's path. The trail of destruction is still clearly evident, no shock there. We both look up and down the jade corridor, something has changed but I can’t put my finger on it.
“The Daemon blood is gone.” Piia points out.
“That's what's missing, how strange. Does it evaporate after some time?” I’m not sure the physical laws and science are the same here. How could blood evaporate at night, especially without direct sunlight or high temperatures? The forest has a pleasant coolness with only a light breeze breaking through.
“The creatures of the night. It was good we got off this path when we did.” The comment makes me tense up in fear, how close did we come to these creatures?
“Do you know what creature would eat dried blood off the floor?” My imagination plays to my fears, though it’s hard to be scared when the day is bright with the sun. Hopefully, we find decent shelter again tonight. If we don’t reach her tribe today, I’ll be encouraging Piia to make camp early.
“There are many, best not to think about it now. They will have followed the trail to the clearing where the bodies are.” Piia says as she begins trekking through Silva.
The forest’s natural glow sits all around us, it hangs in the air as we pass through its midsts. Looking at the emerald motes swirling around as we move reminds me of the clearing when I was attempting to resuscitate Piia.
“Piia, this green glow that surrounds us. You said it is Mother?” I indicate the green air. Piia looks over her shoulder at me, without breaking her pace.
“It is Mother. Have you noticed it thickening the deeper we go into Silva, her presence is getting stronger. Humans once loved it, they used to say that fresh air only begins in Mother’s aura. Their settlements and cities smell foul all the time, it was an escape for them.
Now it only brings them fear, they call it her floating poison. I hope they believe that Satyr dung, it will keep them out.” Resentment thick on her tongue.
I think about how the aura swirled and cascaded down her throat, you could feel the magic.
“I think Mother saved you in that clearing.” Piia slows her pace.
“Why? Did you see her?”
“You weren’t breathing after the Daemon strangled you. Her aura became dense and flowed like water. It stirred all around you and then shot down your throat. Suddenly your chest filled with air and you started breathing again. It was incredible.” I’m glad one of the Gods in this world likes us.
Piia stops on the track and looks into the foliage. “Thank you Mother. Thank you for my life.” She says then turns to me.
“Just as the sun will rise, Mother will protect. Our old Voice would say that every night before we slept. Mother hasn’t abandoned us, she has a plan for me.” Her confidence is now boosted by this new knowledge of Mother's intervention, she moves on with an extra pace.
The healing salve has worked like a charm. I look down at my forearm and see a thick bark scab over the laceration. The scab is already dry and flaking at the edges, almost like the injury happened three weeks ago.
While I was inspecting my wound, Piia was mulling over Mother's magic in the clearing.
“Seth, when you meet my tribe. Can you retell that story to them? They need to hear how Mother saved me, they need to know that she still loves us.”
“Of course, whatever I can do to help.” She smiles at me for a second before changing into a deep scowl as a pungent smell hits us.
“Jesus Christ.” I gag at the smell. I find burning wood has a pleasant scent, however this odour contains oils or chemicals that smell carcinogenic.
“We should check on the forest ahead.” Piia doesn’t hesitate and trudges on.
“I thought you said smoke attracts creatures of the forest. And this is also the path the Daemons used. I can make a strong assumption about what's ahead.”
“We have a duty here, just like the Guardians. Ready your blade.” Piia says with determination. I reckon the Guardians are more suited to this task than me, I unsheath my Xiphos in preparation. I run my thumb down the blade checking the sharpness, hoping it will instil confidence. Fairly blunt until my finger catches on a jagged notch.
Ouch, you stupid twit. I inspect the cut, a welt of blood forming on the end. Looking back at the blade, I catch a strange sight, only for a brief second, and then it’s gone. The little jagged edge of metal glowed a dull red light then quickly died to gunmetal grey.
That was weird. I was about to ask Piia when she let out a soft moan of pain.
I snap up, sword ready for danger (Wow look at me, I’m learning). Piia is standing on the outskirts of a large clearing. This time it’s not natural, it’s man-made or Daemon-made.
Like tombstones in a graveyard, tree stumps spread out before us.
Small fires can be seen everywhere, large patches of black charred ground are clear evidence that fires once raged in the area. Bodies lay all around, a small battle was fought here, however no victor is in sight. I grab Piia and pull her back to the treeline and crouch down.
“This is bonkers. Let’s get out of here.” I whisper while turning in a crouch ready to retreat into the deep woods.
“No, let’s hide and observe. Mother has a purpose for me, this could be it.” Piia’s courage is starting to seem like a death wish.
“Hiding isn’t exactly our greatest talent and what exactly do you think Mother expects you to do about this chaos?” Avoiding this carnage would be the first step to self-preservation, death lingers like a thick fog in the air.
“Listen. This camp wasn’t known by my people because it wasn’t here last Luna. The people that built or destroyed it could threaten my tribe. We are very close to my home Seth.” I see desperation and concern in her eyes. She is thinking of her family first and survival second.
“Okay, but let's not hang around for too long. We spot anything alive with four eyes or horns, and we leave. Agreed?” I try to reason with her heroics.
Frowning, she points at her head. ‘I have horns, you wet fawn.”
“I meant Daemons, obviously. We barely survived our last encounter and they were half dead and a Guardian helped us.”
She just nods a reply. That will have to do.
We observe the camp from cover, it was partially built before the battle and fires were beginning to consume it.
The chopped trees were being used to build a palisade wall, which looked half complete before the battle, with two large watchtowers on opposing sides. Only one tower stood tall and proud now, the other engulfed by flames. Ironically the structure’s design resembled a fire watch tower you would find in North American forests.
The sentry hut on top displayed a large indigo flag that rippled in the breeze. Like a long triangle on its side, the flag starts wide before eventually ending in a thin ribbon flickering in the air. The flag's emblem displays a pair of Daemon eye’s with a ram’s horn curling around, embellished with a laurel wreath and rune symbols for the 15th Lux. I reach into my inventory and retrieve the looted pendant to confirm this.
After making the connection, I look closer at the bodies littering the area. Most are charred crispin remains, humanoid, imps, Guardians and other unrecognisable creatures.
“This was definitely a Daemon camp. Look, the flag matches one of the pendants I retrieved from the Opio Daemon.” I show Piia while pointing to the flag. A deep frown forms in her expression as the realisation takes root.
“They must be building a village in Silva. Why would they try to live here? Mother ensures these lands are hostile to agents of Chaos.”
“This isn’t a village, it’s a military camp." I say with a grimace.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Piia's worry deepens at the comment, her eyes fix ahead watching the base for signs of life.
“What is a military?” I see the peaceful culture all Satyrs must live by in that question. Piia has experienced hardship in her life, but an invading force this close to her tribe will only bring sorrow. I will need to convince her this is a major threat to their way of life, they should leave this area immediately.
“Militaries are a type of industry, soldiers are the equivalent of traders, their products and wares are war and death. They are professionals at organised large-scale fighting.” I can see fear in Piia’s eyes.
“Our Tribe has old stories of warriors and wars. How do you know they are not just settlers looking for new land to live in?”
“Let’s say your tribe moved. What would your priorities be when settling into a new area?” Piia briefly considers the question before answering.
“When I was young, my Tribe was driven deeper into Silva to escape a nearby human settlement. I remember our old Voice had sent scouts to find suitable land. When my people finally made the journey, large huts were already semi-constructed and shrubs had been cleared to plant our fruit and waterleaf bushes.”
“Shelter from the elements and sustenance makes sense. Look at this base and the land they chose to build on. They clear the trees to provide building material, but also for a clear line of sight all around the base, no threats could get close without someone seeing. They establish their base on a hill so any enemy will have an uphill fight.
They build the watchtowers first to see across the clearing in all directions, next they start on the wall to defend their tents. They don’t have young children or old folk living in those tents because this isn’t a village. Once those walls are built, that base will be easy to defend with few numbers, that’s why they are building it before constructing proper shelters.” I feel ashamed of my race while explaining military tactics to Piia.
Back home, the history of wars is taught in schools and present battles spread across endless news cycles. I have no military background, and yet I can explain simple strategic decisions from a five minute observation. I wish I grew up like a Satyr, I wish I didn’t know the word military.
“Mother’s sent you Seth. Your knowledge will steer us from these dangers.” She says with a serious expression.
"It’s quite sad, don’t you think? I'm just interpreting what I see with the information taught to me as a child. I never even served in an army or know anyone that has. Yet my culture can teach us tactics in history class or through entertainment like games. We are no different from the Daemons."
"The Shepherd will arrive in our season of need and take us to lands to flourish for generations. That is what our Voice told us. This isn't a coincidence that Mother sent you as the Daemon invade and hunters grow stronger.
What your kind taught you can be used to benefit my people without building bases or armies. If it was just myself in this destroyed part of Mother’s world, without you, do you know how I would act?"
“No.” I grumble through self loathing.
“I would weep for the loss of nature, curse the Daemons for their vile actions and inform my Tribe to be more vigilant and train harder. We would be wiped from Mother’s gaze in the coming Luna cycles without you, without our Shepherd.” She places a supporting hand on my arm and looks at me with a reassuring smile.
What kind of people do these Satyrs appear to be, what a loss to this world if they become trapped between the ruling races. I’m beginning to comprehend the level of responsibility I have taken on.
I feel the pressure in my stomach tightening. However she is right, ignorance isn’t always bliss when a horde descends upon loved ones in the night. I can screw up leading her tribe to flourishing lands, but anywhere is better than nesting in the shadow of their castras.
"Thank you, we should move on Piia, we know they're Daemons and what threat they pose to your people, objective achieved." If I'm going to be their guide I should start by getting her away from the burnt base full of bodies that will no doubt attract Silva's creatures.
Another castra could be less than a kilometre away, reinforcements mustered and marching as we speak.
"You're right Seth." She says while standing.
Great, let's get away from this depressing scene I think.
Piia leaves the treeline and heads towards destruction. Brilliant, I'm the shepherd of a suicidal flock. Mother just give me lemmings next time and things will be quicker.
"Piia!" hissing as quietly as possible. She waves me to follow and continues.
I draw my blade and chase after her. I thought she was going to teach me how to survive this place.
We approach the first of the bodies. Two imps lay in parts several feet from each other, in fact, it is the same imp. Piia points to deep gouges that have disfigured the imp's face.
“Guardians have left their marks.” She says quietly.
“Piia were you not listening, this is no joke. That base could house an army. We should go now.” I’m failing already.
“There is no one left and we need to find evidence to convince the Voice of this threat. The fruit of words is sweet or poison, we need proof that ours are sweet.” She continues marching quickly towards the unfinished palisades.
I give chase, trying to find my own words to emphasise the danger we were frolicking into whilst simultaneously scanning for movement when I trip on the remains of a quartered imp.
Would you like to loot Imp?
Yes please.
Loot added to inventory:
Imp dagger
Imp ovaries
What’s with these imp genitals? I wonder if the loot system only gives valuable items or also junk. I look at the imp’s features which were ghastly before the Guardian had its way. I can’t see anything that distinguishes their genders. Who knows, maybe this was considered an attractive woman to them.
I retrieve the imp dagger from my inventory. The long blade is crafted from a single piece of white bone, a vicious claw blends seamlessly with an imp’s crooked finger and ends in a small knuckle, the weapon feels light and easy to wield. Attacking with a dagger takes far less technique than a sword, the main setback being its limited reach.
I doubt I have the balls to get close enough to my enemies to use it, and also my short sword puts me in perfect Guardian bear obliteration range as well. Why couldn’t I find a bow?
While admiring the blade, the scent of burnt flesh brings me back to reality.
Crap, where's Piia? I search the area and can’t see my Satyr friend. I slide my new weapon into my belt, I’ll have to find a proper sheath for it later. I move fast in a crouched run towards the base camp, the position and movement quickly burning my leg muscles.
How could I get distracted in such a deadly place? I pass body after body, feeling exposed in the open and alone, I don’t risk looting anymore. Entrails, blood and burnt flesh decorate the battle zone. Daemons and Guardians fought a terrible conflict here.
Other strange and exotic creatures share their resting place. I see vibrant green and brown chitinous plates on severed limbs, I can’t find the main torso they belong to. Is that part of a new Daemon or one of Mother’s animals?
I reach the outside of the remaining palisade and crouch low, listening for any noise that might be Piia or a Daemon. I look across the area we just crossed, back towards the treeline and safety.
There’s nowhere to hide my advance and the feeling of watching eyes causes me to quickly rush towards the palisade. Hitting the wall of roughly chopped wood, I crouch lower and search for movement. Breathing hard now, I realise this is the first time I’ve been alone in this world since Piia collided with me, I hate it.
Hugging the wall, I follow it round towards the openside that was never finished. I reach the end of the embedded logs and peer into the internal camp. Outside the palisade was a mere scrap compared to what had ensued within the walls.
Pure chaos had consumed the base, fires were still burning through most of the tents. The churned ground was covered in bodies. Daemons and creatures that fought to the bitter end, every bit of flesh was torn and shredded. Black and red blood splattered everything in a thick layer.
Fur and purple skin were matted into the stew to result in a horrible concoction. I add to the filthy sight with a spew of vomit, the smell and sight overwhelming me. I can’t understand this violence. If this is the world I now live in then I don’t want any part of it.
Overturned carts of grey wood, partially smashed, were used as a temporary wall on the open side of the palisade. This wood’s tone and grain don’t match the species I’ve seen in Silva so far. I look into the midst of the camp and see movement, I charge the nearest cart for cover.
Peering through a slowly spinning wheel I glimpse a disappearing shadow amongst the military tents. Was that Piia? Should I shout for her? No, that is suicidal. I watch for another minute in silence and push in. Stepping over mangled remains, my greedy mind tempts me with the copious amounts of loot I could find on each one.
But I can’t get distracted, I can loot once I’ve found her.
Walking past a campfire, I see a large cooking pot knocked over. Its contents resembled an alien broth of vegetables or meat. They were attacked around dinner time then. I choose a direction through the tents, avoiding the side with fires.
A large tent before me, made from shiny pink and grey leather, shakes from within. Is Piia in there? A ripped opening reveals a military barracks, with bed mats, weapons and baggage left in a mess. Hesitating to call out for her in case a Daemon still occupies the camp, I stick my head through the gap and peer inside for any signs of my friend.
The space is huge and must have sheltered ten to twelve Daemons at full occupation, their upended foreign contents are in a state of complete riot and scattered everywhere. I push inside, if I can’t find Piia I can at least rummage through a Daemon’s belongings and find interesting artefacts, more weapons or armour.
Maybe I can be a treasure hunter in this world, I think while picking up a strange intricate metal contraption from the mess. How do I know if this has any value, it could be their version of nail clippers.
A wet snapping noise rolls my stomach. I whip my head around and look down the length of the tent. The poles holding the pink leather up have collapsed at one end and a large tail sticks out from under the mound.
Two Daemonic purple legs of an imp lay under the tail, they jerk along with the sound of the snapping noise. I move back in reflex and kick a bag full of hard metal items that loudly clang from the impact.
My eyes instinctively look down at the bag, medieval weapons spewing out and across the floor. I instantly return my gaze to the tail, having only looked away for second.
Two blazing predatory eyes challenge mine as the raptor-like creature crosses the room.