She used her own hands, which transformed into claws as thin as an edge and tough like steel, long like a butcher’s cleaver. She cut the board with human features open, took out its heart and something else with it. It was oval, spherical and it shone with refractions of red light that pulsed at its core. She placed it within her satchel quickly.
She then carved the flesh around its tusks and pulled them out with a glut of blood. Then she took some choice cuts of meat, wrapped then up in leaves and used vines she grew from the ground with her power to create a basket to carry them in.
“So, we should get a move on? I assume we don’t want to stay near the bloodied corpse for long.”
“On the one hand, no Aimon in this part of the Forest can harm me. The outer Parts of Emerald Forest are a Red Region, or a Ruby Rank - if you’re into guild speech. Meaning that the density of Aether, and the quality, here is only enough to spawn and maintain a First Tier Population. On the other hand, the trainer that gave me the wounds I had when you found me, is still out and about searching, and he has a Wind Type, flying Aimon capable of taking him for a ride… so he has eyes on a big area. Moving is advised.” She said but didn’t commit to a particular choice.
“That’s particularly interesting. The Part about regions separated distinctly from each other through density and quality.” Myron asked, finding himself all the more intrigued and invested in the wealth of knowledge Syl carried in her noggin.
Surely he would have to find out all these things sooner all later if he was to integrate into this world, but more than that, anything that had to do with Aimon peeked his interest in a way that nothing else did.
Every time a new bit was offered a thrum went through his heart. It reminded him of home, whilst his parents were still alive, and of a specific game. It hit both a nostalgic nerve and a Survivalist Nerve. “Oh, to not dilly though, we can move and you can explain things to me as we go.” He said, and Syl nodded, and thus begun to move.
They took not a step.
The next moment her arms were on his shoulders. She pushed him down and they crashed onto the ground, and roots near the edge of the clearing. A blade of searing wind cut over them and where they had been, running all the way across the meadow and through the trees standing on the other edge. With mighty thumps they slid and they fell, sliced clean from their roots. A handful of them ancient trees, and dust rose obscuring the naked stumps from view.
Syl stood and pulled Myron with her. A falcon as big as a car dove down where they had been. It’s clawed feet crashing into the earth and tearing it apart before it twirled inside a gust of its own creation.
Syl brandished her claws, which took form in place of her arms and clashed with the falcon’s talons as it swiftly morphed into a beautiful, tan, lady with wings instead of arms and chicken feet for legs, past the knees.
Plumage in a few other areas of her body, a pale blue on her dark skin, with almost gray eyes leering at Myron with killing intent. Sharp serrated teeth and arms that had scales on them of the same color scheme, which ended in three sharp glinted claws.
A man with a balding head, large square shoulders, shorter than most yet with a back as straight as a ruler, legs bigger than trunks, and a scimitar sword strapped on his waist, stepped through the shadow of the forest and into the light of the clearing. He stopped to the side and behind the transformed falcon and glared at Myron.
“Roulon.” Syl stated with sheer disgust, spitting on the forest floor
“Break the bond. And I’ll let you go.”
“?” Myron cocked his head to the side; palms up and shoulders shrugging.
“Give her back to me, She’s my pray and you just stole her.” Roulon threatened and the gorgeous Aimon next to him snarled. Syl did the same, her teeth growing sharp and pointed; Myron noted.
“I don’t think I will. I don’t feel that Syl, here, wants to be with you? That’s just me spit-balling here. Care to elaborate stranger?” Myron pacified the threatened Aimon with a hand to her wrist. He stepped in front of her and shielded her with his body from sight.
He should put his height to some use at least, not that he actually hid Syl, but he thought the effort mattered.
“You play me for a fool one more time and I’ll have you dead.” Roulon threatened.
Syl chittered something ominous from behind Myron that made him shiver. He turned to her with a small smile and mouthed at her. ‘Calm.’ He sent those emotions through his bond with a little shove and they squeezed through to her, to an immediate effect.
“I don’t take threats to my person lightly, fellow. But I presume some type of misunderstanding has taken place. So I’ll start from scratch and ignore all that has been said.”
Myron put on his best fake smile, like he did in front of his supervisors whenever he was called in for the matter of his pay increase.
“I’m Myron, I just walked through a Portal half an hour ago, and found this woman dying.”
“Woman?! HAHA!”
Myron ignored the intejrection. “She requested that I save her, though the method was peculiar, and I did so for I am not one to leave a person stranded, asking for help, I don’t want to be at least. What might be the problem with what I have done?”
“The Problem! Is that she’s my target. I’ve spent days tracking her, wasted a lot of damned Aether to bring her down and then she ran away. I worked damn hard to get her low enough to capture.” Roulon was clearly not ready to negotiate in any civilized manner, making Myron’s job all the harder for it.
Myron hadn’t been in such situation a lot in the past, not once actually, but he found himself calm enough.
He knew it had to be a combination of his skill and his naturally high Clarity, maybe even his Focus. Despite his calm, his ability to bring his adversaries emotions to a calm, and to turn this situation around so as it won’t devolve into base violence was negligible at best. Maybe some part of him was also offended at Roulon’s discriminatory attitude.
“I see. Sorry to interrupt, but as I said I am not from here. I don’t know a thing about Aimon, bonding or capturing. Is there really no way we can solve this peacefully?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Myron said, putting on his best people pleasing performance. It didn’t seem to be working.
“AhA! What’s this I hear? Roulon, you let your one chance get away?!” Another voice cut into the clearing.
Myron’s breath caught in his chest and he sighed soon after. He saw the blond youth step into the clearing, riding atop a massive lizard whose scales seemed like rocks, and in the cracks between them, fire seemed to flow with its every breath.
Peace talks were over and Myron could tell, despite that, or maybe in spite of it, the situation hadn’t necessarily worsened for him and Syl. The more who came to steal from one another, the better the chances they could ran away in the chaos.
Roulon tensed and his Aimon snarled, her wings twitching in anticipation.
“Shut the hell up, Deryn. You and your filthy fucking lizard have no stake in this.” Roulon seethed, his anger barely constrained and his face red as a tomatoes, as if going through his most serious constipation to date.
Myron looked to Syl, with a very pointed look, he sent her through his bond the image of them running but didn’t move yet.
The more the merrier, the saying went, as another person joined the party, this one floating on a dandelion like monster with a mushroom cap like an umbrella holding it aloft. It had roots like tentacles floating below it, and two shining dots for eyes in the middle of the swarm of soft silk-like sprouts that made up its body. She was blue of hair and blue of eyes, cropped short and shaved at the sides. She chuckled when she saw the scene and eyed Syl clinically.
“Oh, look who showed up…. The Peasant Plant Fucker.” Roulon grimaced at the appearance of the woman.
“The Name’s Hanau, Clan Reject, weak little bastard. You know you’re not allowed to take a Jasper Rank quest as a newbie right? I’ll report you to the Guild Master and have you quartered for breaking his rules. Davosh isn’t very kind to clan fucks killing themselves under his watch. Inbred retard.” She spat out, her face warped into a disgusted glare.
Myron’s jaw fell down at the foulness of Hanau’s mouth.
“What was that?! You wanna go? I’m gonna destroy you, mangy bitch!” Roulon cracked his fists, his face red with rushing blood.
“Puhaha!” Deryn laughed till he almost fell from his mount. “That’s what you get you chicken fucker. The words always avoided me, but Hanau here found just the ones, go cry back to your mountain mommy, idiot, fuck a bird, make some eggs.”
Hanau scoffed and spat at at ground. “The same goes for you, bug-eyed freak. Both of you, get out of here before I turn you into fertilizer. I’ve got a Quest for that little Queen, and it has no rank, you won’t get in the way with your incompetence. Peasant or not, I’m your superior within the Guild’s Ranks.” Hanau said.
She was not messing about as a Second Aimon grew from the grass in a mass of roots. His legs made of wood, wrapped around themselves until his waist above which abs grew strong and dark - and a little bit cracked like bark, his skin entirely black like ironwood, his hair tinted red like his bloodshot eyes, and his face lupine, with a big snout that held rows of sharp teeth within it.
The three Trainers where doing a magnificent job working themselves up, and Myron felt hope cling to him. He really would have preferred a more cordial exchange, he wasn’t here to deal with their stupid politics and ideologies. He wanted none of their arguments, or competition.
From the north, stepped into the clearing, atop a fallen tree, valiantly - with the sun shining down upon him alone - a knight. Decked out in armor, with a large double-edged longsword in seethed on his waist. Though if Myron where to judge from the reactions of the other three trainers, the new arrival was more monster than knight.
Grunts and curses stopped the cacophony of yells and grand-standing that had been going on while Myron and Syl inched further away. The mood dropped a few degrees sharply and silence befell the clearing and the Man who posed in the bathing light, was surrounded by three Aimon, each one beautiful and alien in their own unique way.
“Fuck. Syvan. What are you doing here?” Roulon cursed.
“Get in line!” Hanau flipped the bird and spat on the ground once more. ‘Very classy of her.’ Myron couldn’t help but think.
Syvan took off his helmet and turned out to be a dashing young man with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. Bushy brows that shone just a bit lighter and almost matched the gold inlaid on his majestic breastplate. Which was adorned with designs of trees and swords. From top to bottom, he looked reached, powerful, and noble.
“Hello everyone. It’s a fine morning for a Hunt is it not?” His Aimon all flashed smiles, each one more threatening than the other. Myron noticed Syl tense up, a lot. Clearly these Aimon where trained intensely in the art of combat, and had a fame that preceded them.
He paid more attention to them, each one was monkey like, with long arms and legs bent at the knees, half squating. They had round torsos like balloons and hooves instead of feet, four fingers in their hands, and bony protrusions on their forearms. Atop their heads they were crowned with circlets of olive leaves. One of the laurels was red, the other green, the last blue.
“Syvan, The Bastard Knight. Didn’t expect to see you here. A measly Mission like this pulled you into action?” Hanau said, the least afraid out of the bunch.
He frowned at the title plastered on him but smiled none the less as he replied. “It’s anything but measly now, is it. A Lone Queen with no trainer, in a zone safe for me to march through, with clan breeding methods in her genes, and clan training in her body and mind. Don’t you think this warrants someone of my caliber?”
“That brother of yours probably sicked you up to this. You wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, Mister Pretend Royalty. I hear he got a real taste of humiliation once his future wife showed up with a King Kentauros at the Ball. Everyone’s thinking it.” Roulon scoffed.
It seemed they didn’t hold much love for Syvan’s little brother. Myron understood, Nobles shouldn’t be loved by anyone.
“A Bastard I may be, but a sense of duty I do have. That doesn’t come with genetics. Seeing as you all know that I am not one to be trifled with. Leave this place and let me deal with this young man and the Queen.”
“That, we do. I just don’t see why you’d help your brother increase his power. A Second Tier Aimon will do him a world of good, especially if he can somehow get that Princess to work with him instead.” Hanau questioned.
“The thoughts and plans of the Ducal household are not for someone like you to understand or grasp. I think you ought to be asking less questions and start more of that running. Are you sure you want to mess with a Brawler of my caliber?”
“Mister Syvan.” Myron interjected.
“Seeing as how you suggested those three leave, and you deal with me in your own way, should I assume that you have something to say to me?”
“I do, I would like for us to have a conversation…”
“Myron.”
“Good Sir, Myron. I’m sure we can come to an understanding if we just get out of this dangerous forest.”
Myron nodded then turned to Hanau, Deryn, and Roulon.
“You three.” He called out and they turned to him.
He stood ram-rod straight. “If you think my life is worth so little that you would leave me dying out in this forest populated with Aimon, which you seem to consider less than people, Mister Roulon.”
He gave a glare. “Why don’t you fight it out to the death and see if you enjoy the experience before you use me like tissue paper? See the value in my life a bit won’t you? I want to live too. Syl here doesn’t really want to be with you, and you all seem to have your own issues to solve.”
Myron turned to Syl, looked her in the eye. He closed his eyes and walked close. He touched upon their bond and felt himself exist within his soul and on the open clearing of grass at the same time.
“Do you want to remain with me for now?”
“I do. I came this close to letting myself Wither, and die. I see now, that this is not the end for my journey in this world.”
“I want to make this relationship something special. I think we can do it.” He walked closer and almost whispered. “I felt it when we bonded.”
“I can’t promise anything more than loyalty, Myron. I just lost my only Trainer, my human. I don’t know how much more special I can make it.”
Myron shrugged. “I can deal with that. I’ll help you, and you’ll help me. We’re going to be good friends you and I.”
“What the fuck are you two doing staring at each other?” Hanau shouted.
“Enough is enough!” Roulon shouted and stepped forth.
“Syvan! We can come to an agreement, that is for sure. Will you help us?”
Syvan nodded. “I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Why not?” He said with a dashing smile.
“Get serious.” Roulon crunched his teeth and hissed at Myron with venom in his voice. “We can’t let that happen.” He continued and he stepped forward. Syvan took out his sword. Battle was imminent.