We are not monsters. We have souls and do not lack honor, but we must devour our weak to grow. It is why we crave the hunt. No, my friend, we are not monsters—we are beasts. We are the Wild Things you fear at night.
~Cernunnos, Lord of the Wild Things
A dozen Moss Wolves charged at them from both sides of the road. The ambush might have been clever, but Conall already sensed them and had dismounted before approaching the narrowed part of the road. In his hand was a simple woodcutting ax, but to a Druid, standing in a forest, it might as well have been the tool of a butcher.
Blood and entrails splattered everywhere as the ax cleaved through the wolves like a scythe through wheat. The most fascinating part of it all was that not a single drop of blood landed on Conall. The only wolf that he even took seriously was the alpha.
Its massive size and shaggy green fur made it appear formidable. Seeing its pack getting destroyed, it howled in anger, and its sunken eyes glowed red with rage. Berserk mode wasn’t uncommon among beasts since those with lower ability had simpler minds that were still overwhelmed by their instincts.
Its enormous paws thundered up the road as it snarled and spewed saliva. Before it came close, its legs tensed, and it lunged forward like an arrow released from the bow. Conall flashed forward too and then paused as he went past the beast.
The Moss Wolf fell to the ground without its head. Conall turned, facing the remaining whelps while snapping his hand down in a chopping motion. Blood splattered on the ground as it slipped off the well-oiled blade of his woodcutting ax.
“First lesson of surviving—always take care of your gear,” Conall lectured while chopping another wolf down. They were so weak that he hadn’t even activated his Shield. “Even a camp tool may save your life.”
Crow watched his papa from the back of an Elkan beast. Their clan’s responsibility was to keep the road clear of beasts whenever they were spotted. Otherwise, merchants wouldn’t risk visiting their ancestral grounds.
Using the ax, Conall pried out a beast core from the alpha’s head and brought it to Crow. Handing it over, the boy held on to it curiously.
“This is a Beast Core, and our histories claim it was the inspiration for our Shields. Look close you’ll notice two things that stand out that give credence to this theory. First, the crystalline shape, and second, the runic symbol etched into its depths. For beasts, it is a way to classify them. For people, it helps determine bloodline. The Druid Order almost all have an oak tree on their Shield, but it may vary slightly from clan to clan.”
“What if the beast doesn’t have a core?”
“That is a good question. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it’s because it’s not a beast but an animal. Animals are dumb and weak—beasts are not.”
“And the one time it’s not?”
“Some beasts can move their cores inside their bodies. Usually, they are strong, so strong that you’d be a fool not to realize it was a beast.”
“Like dragons, papa?”
“Ha! If you meet a dragon, son, I’ll eat this ax.”
“You promised, papa!” Crow said seriously, his four-year-old head too big for his body, so he looked ridiculous, nodding as if he was some kind of wise bard.
“You little brat!” Conall said, slapping his son on the back of the head.
“How does it hide the core?”
“Most beasts, when they get strong enough, can humanize. At that point, they instinctively learn how to transform their bodies and can move things around. Most beasts in the tower will choose to turn them into Shields so they can hide among us.”
Conall butchered the wolves, harvesting them for meat and resources. Moss Wolves lacked harvestable resources, but their beast cores and meat would be enough to stay at a high-quality inn for a weekend.
“Papa, how come that wolf looks different from the others?” Crow pointed at one of the dead animals that his father hadn’t butchered. Unlike the others, its legs looked more like thick vines woven together. The optical illusion made it hard for Crow to see if the legs were really vines or still flesh.
“It mutated, and that makes it hard to judge its threat level. Like our Shields, the color can tell you the rank, and if you have enough eye for detail, you can even tell the level by the stars lit up around the edges. Beasts are the same. You can tell the rank and level if you observe closely enough, but if mutated, you should always assume it’s one rank higher than that.”
“What rank is mama?”
“She has a Topaz Shield, like me. Which is a rank five Shield.”
“But mama has more stars. Does that mean mama is stronger than papa?”
“You little bastard, are you looking down on your dad?” Conall grumbled. On the other hand, he was glad his son could talk about his mother. The past year he didn’t know what to do to console his boy and felt even more worthless as a husband. “Listen, mutations are vitally important because that kind of knowledge will save your life.”
“Is Toru mutated?” Crow asked, patting his father’s Elkan beast on the head. It snorted and stomped a hoof—one of six. Crow had seen a lot of Elkan on their ancestral grounds because they were a protected beast by the Druid Order. However, only a few of them had six legs.
“He is and is faster than even these Moss Wolves. That makes Toru more dangerous than these wolves, and he can fight above his level. Beasts might even consider you mutated since you’ve opened your Druidic bloodline.”
“So I can fight above my rank?”
“Learn to walk before you run, fool.”
“Then does that mean a mutated beast awakened its bloodline?” Crow asked, and Conall gave his son a deep look. He easily forgot his boy was only four, but the kid remembered everything because of Sage’s Mind. Unlike what most people thought, he didn’t know all things he remembered but could recall anything when he needed to.
There was a small divide between instantly memorizing everything and knowing it, but that small divide made a massive difference. Still, as the kid grew, his brain would train itself like any muscle to eliminate that divide.
“Beasts mutate in three ways. The natural method is a bloodline awakening because not all beasts are carnivores and require rare plants, fruits, and herbs to grow. Toru, for example, is the descendant of an Emperor Beast. The Maddox clan once had a leader that raised his Elkan beast up to that stage, and the beast could humanize. He helped our people establish a royal bloodline among the Elkan beasts.”
Conall continued talking but had sent the meat into the dimensional space inside his Shield. A Topaz Shield had a lot of capacity, and each level and rank increased it further. These dozens of wolves would have fit inside easily without even having to butcher them. Conall performed those acts in the forest so the scraps would fatten up the other game. The other reason he was processing the beasts and doing it so slowly was for Crow’s sake. The boy missed little and knowing the process would be enough for him to figure out the rest on his own.
“We mainly relate method two to the carnivore type beasts. They devour other beasts to become stronger, but in doing so, they also gain some of their bloodline power. If enough power is gathered, it produces a mutation. This is the dirty method, but in my opinion, it is a true mutation. The reason people think of it as the dirty method because the mutations are random. It’ll always be more powerful, but the abilities it ends up with can be really bizarre. Along this line, cross-species breeding achieves the same results.”
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Conall finished up, climbed up onto Toru behind his son, and urged the Elkan beast to move toward Oiche. While it was only a thirty-minute delay, they were expected, so he’d have to make up for some time.
“Toru, faster!” Crow called out and shook his tiny fist at the big beast. Crow was tall for his age but could walk under the thing’s belly without squatting. Toru turned its massive head and snorted. Hot moist air blew out of its nostrils right into the boy’s face. Conall chuckled, unable to help himself.
“Ewwww,” Crow grumbled, wiping his damp face off on his sleeve. The beast raised its massive antlers as if daring Crow to try ordering him again.
“C’mon, old friend. We are behind schedule, and when was the last time you had a good run? I’ll shield Crow. Show him the power of a mutated beast,” Conall spoke to Toru like he would a person because, for all intents, the beast was probably more intelligent than most humans.
Toru nodded its head, and then its legs stomped forward in a chaotic pattern. Its six legs seemed awkward at first, and its gait was uncomfortable for riders, but once it hit a certain speed, the ride smoothed out. Crow felt the wind coming at him so fast he couldn’t breathe until Conall’s Shield lit up and a barrier formed around the two. After that, Crow laughed and cheered in excitement. Once the excitement died down, Crow realized his father hadn’t finished their conversation.
“Papa, what’s the third mutation?”
“Method, not a third mutation, and it’s related to Beastlords. Their cultivation method allows them to initiate mutations, but I don’t know how or why. Asking about other people’s cultivation methods is taboo and disrespectful. The only thing I know for sure is that their method requires a Beast Contract but only if it’s a mutually binding contract. They abhor Beast Slave Contracts which force the beast to bow down to a human, and they may even kill you on sight for using one.”
Crow was quiet for a while, and Conall knew the kid wasn’t done with his questions. One thing he could always count on was his son’s curiosity. He didn’t know if it was the Druidic bloodline or just in the boy’s nature, but Crow was endlessly fascinated by the world around him.
“Then what is a contract?”
“Toru and I are contracted. You’ll learn more about Soul-Links in the future, but it is a spell that links the soul of a beast and human. It can come as a talisman, or you can hire a Beastlord to cast the spell. If you have a choice, ask a Beastlord because there is less risk, and they can strengthen the bond. Before you ask, and I know you will, yes, there are risks. If either party has ill intent, it’ll be sensed during the linking process, and either side can reject. There is potential for feedback from the rejection, which can damage your soul. Violating a contract is even more serious and might kill you. It is one thing to end the contract but never violate it.”
“Is there a risk with a slave contract?”
“Yes. Just know that your Soul Trinity, which is Body, Mind, and Spirit, plays a heavy role in contracts. If your beast is dumb or has a weak Mind, it’ll readily listen to your commands provided you have a strong connection through Spirit. Your Spirit bond is stronger if you trust each other. Slave Contracts are about dominating the beast’s Mind and Spirit. This weakens the Spirit bond to the point of snapping, so the beast will break free from the contract if it ever gets the opportunity. They are proud, and you should never underestimate them.”
“Soul Trinity…”
“Don’t ask. You’ll know in time, and you are too young to worry about it. Once you awaken your Source, you’ll feel the difference. Our Druidic cultivation method has a heavy focus on the Mind. If you focus on anything, pay attention to that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know why our people protect Elkans?” Conall asked, and Crow shook his head. “We nearly hunted them out of existence. Some beasts are a treasure trove of resources, and Elkans fit that category. If made into clothes or cloaks, their hide can adapt to any climate and blend in with their surroundings—a weak form of camouflage.”
“Just for that?” Crow asked, feeling the reason was evil.
“No, but it was the primary reason. They are hearty creatures, so various organs can be used to make pills. Its bones are very dense and stronger than iron. No matter the reason, the Druid Council forbade the hunting of Elkans, but we may raise and train them as mounts. This is much more fitting for their noble status.”
Crow wanted to know more, but they exited the forest. His mind froze as he looked up in awe. Noticing the mood, Conall urged Toru to slow down.
“That massive tree is Father Oak,” Conall said. “I once heard a Bard tell people it was over a hundred kilometers tall, so its branches have pushed themselves into the void of space. Its trunk is forty-six kilometers wide. Its canopy—those branches that nearly reach out this far—are around three hundred kilometers from trunk to tip. It’s ungodly massive, and Oiche, our capital, is under that canopy. It is why we call it the City of Shadows. The closer we get to the trunk, the darker it gets, but don’t worry, they have floating lanterns that keep the sky lit at all times.”
Crow just stared because it was too breathtaking to explain in words. He listened to his papa but didn’t really comprehend what he was saying. Here before him was a tree that reached into the heavens, stupefying his mind.
Father Oak stood in defiance of heaven, unwilling to bend to the will of anyone or anything thing. His four-year-old mind associated the tree with power, power big enough to bring his mama back. A power that Crow felt he needed to have if he wanted to protect his mama and papa from evil people.
“Do you see those stone pillars to the north—standing in a semi-circle like a sacred henge? As the sun passes across the sky, the tree’s shadow will move across the entire northern half of this continent, and those markers work as a sundial. Oiche surrounds Father Oak’s trunk—at least as close to it as we allow them to build. Almost no light penetrates the city, nor does rain or snow reach the surface. Oiche is the holy city for the Druid Order. Our clans may go to war with each other, but all enmity ends if the holy city is ever at risk. All clansmen capable of fighting, even those without a Source, will fight. Honor demands it. Without Oiche, our order has no foundation. Do you know why this is important?”
“Because a place without history has no roots. Without roots, there can be no future.” Crow practically quoted his papa word for word. It was something he’d told him a thousand times.
Conall chuckled. “Good, that is an important lesson a Druid, clansman, and cultivator should always remember. This place is the honor and privilege of all Druid clans—it is the soul of our nation.”
“Can we live here?” Crow asked innocently, not realizing the intent of their visit. Papa rubbed his head before turning his green eyes towards the deepest parts of the city.
“Perhaps in a few years,” Conall replied mysteriously.
They rode almost a hundred kilometers under the canopy before reaching the outskirts of the city. Patrolling guards eyed them curiously but didn’t stop them. Conall had identification. All clansmen received a signet after coming of age, but Druids didn’t need the signet because their Shield was their identification. Then again, most guards rarely stopped anyone riding an Elkan beast, as it was almost a given that the rider was a Druid.
The Maddox clan had declined a lot over the years. This meant in terms of numbers and powerful cultivators, they were lacking. While they lacked the numbers, they still had some of the most powerful Druids on the entire continent of Darach.
Of the nine original clans, Maddox ranked in the bottom three. Still, their history was long, and they had lots of businesses and endless resources. Crow knew all this because it was an example his papa often mentioned when he talked about foundations. In terms of wealth, if they weren’t the top clan, it was close, but power meant more than wealth.
Their clan operated a stable near the eastern gate into the inner city. The stables were a newer edition to their line of business, something the Maddox clan thought up despite having the ability to store beasts.
“I could store Toru in a Tamer Charm, so do you know why I use the stables instead and why these places are successful businesses?”
“No, and what’s a Tamer Charm?”
“The charms are a dimensional device that can store living things. It puts them in stasis, so it won’t harm them, but they can’t grow either. The stables are highly successful because most docile beasts like Elkans are social. They have the chance to interact with other beasts, and they—”
“Stable?” The manager laughed when he saw Conall leading Toru in. “It’s more like a brothel for beasts.”
“What are you saying? My boy is only four, you idiot,” Conall thumped the stable manager on the head. The man didn’t seem upset and even chuckled. “How’s it been?”
“More than a dozen requests for your stud mount.”
“A dozen? I won’t be here that long, but whatever Taru wants,” Conall sighed and waved the man off. He could tell by the way Crow’s little face turned up that the boy was about to ask something inappropriate. “No questions.”
Crow’s open mouth snapped closed, and he frowned. Behind them, they could hear the manager laughing his butt off. Either way, they left and approached the eastern gate into the inner city. Another reason the stables were famous is that large-sized beasts weren’t allowed in the inner city. After a few beasts rampaged, the Druid Council strictly banned them. Even the smaller beasts used as protectors needed to be vetted by the council.
Conall and Crow approached the gate, only to be stopped.
“Purpose of visit and length of stay?” the guard asked, eying the father and son duo before him. He was an older guard, and Conall could tell at a glance the man was a veteran—a warrior that survived the tower through life and death struggles. It was part of his aura, his presence—just as the guard sensed it from Conall. Recognizing a warrior, the guard raised the question respectfully.
“We plan on visiting the Druid Council and Maddox Clan Manor. Term of stay… uncertain, depends on the council.”
“Names?”
“Conall and Crow, sons of Maddox.”
The guard frowned and hesitated to speak, warring with duty and respect.
“Go on in,” he said in a firm voice but then said softly so that only someone with Conall’s level of cultivation could hear. “There is trouble at the Maddox clan’s House of Danu—you should hurry.”
Conall outwardly didn’t show any emotion but imperceptibly nodded and entered the gateway. Crow followed behind, oblivious to the potential trouble brewing.