I had been following the alma for almost three months. Traveling in the moors was normally a careful affair of avoiding hazards and leaving no evidence of your passing.
That did not apply for the alma. They just cut across the land in a straight line.
Cutting through the underbrush like that resulted in frequent assaults from minor hazards. Various wildlife attacked the alma for destroying their habitat.
The abundance of armed guards were enough to handle the assault. Chopping through toxic plants posed a greater threat.
Several of them ended up disabled after touching toxic sap or pollen. The use of enchanted antidotes prevented casualties. But, they were still unable to work for a few days.
The process was a strange mixture of moronic and impressive. It was a bit like watching an enraged tarrasque smash through the forest in a straight line, rather than maneuver around the trees.
They could have avoided so much effort and danger by going around obstacles. Yet, the straight line was faster. That was, if it did not kill them.
The liberal usage of healing potions kept any of the many injuries from having true consequences. I had traded for such items before.
They were the product of the alma’s form of casting. As far as I could tell, their magic involved the utilization of their souls.
The lack of forthcoming sapients within the moors had limited my investigations. I had mostly studied the instinctual magic of beasts.
Beasts used a particular part of their soul to fabricate excess animus and the secondary material that gave souls structure into spells. They basically made miniature souls without a source to go out and change the world until they ran dry.
If that sounded a lot like how my casting pattern worked, that was because we observed the wildlife’s casting to develop it. The mechanics were quite different, but the idea was the same.
Every soul I had studied had the mechanism for casting. That meant everything with a soul could learn magic.
That said, you could also say every gam could learn to juggle. Simply having hands did not mean they would take the time and effort to develop the skill.
Animals used it in very minor ways. The alma clearly took it much farther. I based that on the items they traded.
Healing potions were an impressive example. I could strictly make something similar with my casting pattern. However, my imitations were much weaker and often unstable.
That was another reason I was following them. I wanted to see how intelligent creatures used magic.
The usage of such items dropped off as we reached a part of the moors I had never seen before. The constant marshy soil I was used too started to be replaced by drier and more solid ground.
There were places in the moors that had solid ground. But, they were small islands in the omnipresent swamp.
This place was different. The ground I walked on was hard and even the air felt lighter.
I could not see water anywhere. The only exceptions were rivers that flowed with a speed and clarity I was unfamiliar with. They carved deep into the soil and did not bleed outside their banks.
Fascinated by the first such river I encountered, I stepped into the water. It flowed past my calves. The rapid movement was not something I associated with water.
Water flowed in currents, but not this intensely. I stepped out of the water. Having regained perspective, I stepped in again.
I repeated this pattern another half a dozen times. I might have been a bit bored.
It was not especially surprising I never investigated this area. There were quite a few gam villages at this point.
Even so, we did not objectively cover that much distance. It felt like a large territory because distance was misleading in the moors.
To move safely, you had to go slowly and take twisting paths around hazards. It would take me far longer to travel this far on my own.
It was hard to travel in a straight line. Most of our exploration involved investigating new territory geographically close to us.
I had only been able to travel straight like this because I was following the path of destruction the alma left. It was a point to be said for there approach.
It risked stumbling on something that could wipe them out with ease. Yet, it did get them to their destination faster than caution could.
The underbrush became thinner and trees sparser as we continued. Then, a week after the ground grew hard, the forest ended all together.
I was shocked when my foremost flies came out into a great expanse without trees as far as they could see. Thin reedy plants completely hid the soil.
A long faded knowledge not my own told me I was seeing a plain of grass. The implicit knowledge from my body had mostly faded after the first few years.
I retained any knowledge that did present itself. But, new information from nowhere was an uncommon occurrence at this point.
Gæri The must have been very familiar with grass. I did not get a lot of detail, but it was enough to understand this was a wholly new environment.
It was a few more hours before the alma had completely left the tree cover. I trailed far behind.
I stopped at the edge. This was a bit of a problem. I could get close to the expedition because of the thick vegetation.
I could maneuver through the moors with far greater skill than they could see through it. That did not apply to this open space.
I ended up waiting for their stragglers to get far enough ahead that my control over the flies was straining. Then, I started down the trail stomped flat in the grass.
Night was falling when the alma’s destination became clear. I had seen plenty of buildings in my life. The gam tried a wide range of shelters over the years.
But, nothing was like the sprawling cluster of colossal structures the alma approached. Solid buildings as tall as some trees surrounded a far larger structure.
The central building was no taller than the others. Yet, it seemed more like several of the smaller ones branching off each other.
I could not easily tell what the buildings were made from. But, the central one was obviously different. It seemed darker and lacked the sharply angled roofs of those around it.
The expedition was met by a group of three alma riding steeds I did not recognize. The steeds loosely resembled a species of giant deer that roamed the moors.
That said, the resemblance was more in general shape and size than the details of their appearance. These creatures had the defined muscles and frame of a creature built for speed.
The riders met with the expedition leader and received a quick report of safe returns and profitable bounties. Once they confirmed nothing had gone wrong, the riders led the trail of tired people back.
I was interested to see most of the returning alma disperse into the surrounding buildings. Only the leader and a few alma I knew were important to the expedition headed directly to the larger building.
Most of the expedition carried massive packs of gear and supplies. Those were all dropped in from a building I now suspected was made from planked wood.
The bag carriers mostly headed to other buildings, but a few stayed and greeted the alma who came out to bring the bags inside. Following the new alma inside revealed a massive storage room.
The whole building was for storing the equipment and spoils of the expedition. Based on the stacks and towers of crates, this was far from the only expedition.
Investigating the central building revealed it to be made from stone. Large blocks of carved stone had been fitted together with the slightest of seams.
The fly I landed on a wall detected magic within it, but not what the spell did. I could use the link between me and the reanimated flies as a target for casting.
However, it was a bit like trying to paint with your toes while doing a handstand… if your head was submerged in murky water. I could barely tell what I was doing and had little control.
My true body did not come in sight of the compound until it was truly dark. That was good, since I clearly needed to find a hiding place.
There were signs of activity all around the buildings themselves. Wooden barriers clearly designed for keeping in their steeds cordoned off the land.
The grass within was short to the ground. The culprits were grazing when my flies first appeared. Now, none could be seen.
I did not leave the tall grass. Instead, I found a place in the grass not easily visible from any path. There, I started digging.
Long before sunrise, I had buried myself a few feet under the soil. I was sure anyone who stood above me would notice the loose dirt and imperfectly replaced grass.
But, the eyes of my flies revealed my spot to be hidden from anywhere else. My present safely buried, I settled in for a period of observation.
Over the next week, I discovered much about the alma settlement. Mainly, I discovered I needed a way to get closer.
The flies let me pick up conversation and follow the inhabitance in their daily life. That was how I learned this was just an outpost.
The compound seemed to exist as a launching point for expeditions into the moors. They equipped groups heading out and gave a place to recuperate when they returned.
There were long term residence. The outpost had a manager and support staff to keep everything running and help the expeditions.
However, this was not the alma homeland. I heard references to a place called Rojin.
It seemed to be the land everyone at the outpost came from. I got the impression Rojin also referred to the organization that controlled the outpost.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
It sounded as if Rojin was their village. Yet, something about how they spoke of it felt like something more. As if Rojin was a force in itself.
The most interesting thing I discovered was the magic. Magic items were something we traded for. Yet, they remained uncommon amongst the gam.
That was not the case here. My senses were limited through the flies. But, I saw numerous small enchantments.
The lights on the walls were glowing stones. When a cooking fire was started, they used a metallic disc enchanted to conjure a flame.
It was not anything truly new. The impressive part was how common they were. Every alma had at least a few minor items.
I also noticed some larger spells. The biggest was a massive spell work surrounding the buildings a the center of the outpost.
I could not tell what it did. All I could recognize through the flies was the presence or absence of magic.
That was especially irritating, since they had a healer. She was an onyx skinned alma who was on the lower end of their hight.
I discovered her presence immediately. Several of the returning expedition had been injured.
Their potions were a powerful resource for keeping the guards fighting. But, they were a limited one.
Potions were not spared for minor injuries, especially on non-guards. By the end, many had wounds.
Those had all filed past their healer over the first few days. Untreated injuries were healed and those the potions left partially healed were finished off.
Even after the returning wounded were healed, day to day injuries would drop in for healing. It was exasperating.
I could tell magic was being used. I could even tell it was far more affective than our healers. I just could not tell how it was being done.
My casting pattern was fundamentally different from the organelle that let souls perform magic. But, I had proven in past experiments I could copy their magic.
It required me to make essence with the properties of the processed animus they used. That was easy enough for my casting pattern.
I had tested it on the magic of non-sapient beasts. That worked fine, but required me to observe the spell being constructed. I had never seen an alma caster constructing a spell.
They had a caster, and a skilled one. Yet, I could not observe the process. Which was why I needed to get my physical body in range.
With that intent, I formulated a plan. It would require me to kill one of the alma’s steeds in a place I would not be observed.
The creatures were apparently called horses. The alma let them graze around the outpost and use one of the buildings for shelter after dark.
The important thing about them was where they could go. The barrier kept them within a limited area. But, that area included the entire outpost.
The horses occasionally wandered in between the buildings. They seemed to be friendly enough towards the alma that it was not worth keeping them out.
They could not get into the buildings. So, the only obvious downside was the inoffensive droppings and slight risk of a large animal stepping on your foot.
My plan began by finding a distant corner of the enclosure. The spot I chose was hidden by a small rise.
I was sure the spot could not be seen from the outpost. At nightfall, I dug myself out and snuck over.
The rest of the night was spent digging a pit out of easy sight. It would have been easier if I had a proper tool. Still, a stick was enough given time.
Light broke over the horizon in a way I was still getting used too. In the moors, the trees made it impossible to see the sun come over the edge of the world.
The sight really was something. Something I had time to appreciate while waiting for the horses to graze in this area.
It was several hours before one got far enough out for me to target it. The one I chose did not wander near my pit. However, it was out of sight of the outpost.
I released the spell I had been refining over my wait. A ripple of color flowed over me.
My form broke up and became a smear of grass tones to the naked eye. It was not invisibility, but it was fairly good camouflage.
The blob of grass colors marking my presence snuck to the quarry’s position. I did not dare get close.
Alma were not the most observant of creatures. But, these horses seemed to scare easily. And when they did, they bolted.
Instead, I stopped just beyond the barrier that kept them in. I pinched a tiny bone needle in my fingers.
The needle’s enchantment came to life at my coaxing and levitated over my palm. A moment later, it shot forwards at great speed.
Expending its enchantment, the needle buried itself in the horse’s flank. The creature only twitched, as if the pinprick was just another biting fly.
Of course, the needle was not meant to cause harm itself. Its enchantment could not propel it hard enough to cause real damage.
Maybe if it hit an eye it could destroy the soft organ. But, it would not be lethal even then.
No, the needle was not harmful. The whisper spider venom it was soaked in was.
The horse stumbled a few seconds after the venom entered its bloodstream. I knew whisper spiders were deadly to creatures fueled by life animus, even if it was only a minor inconvenience to those with unlife animus.
The horses used life animus. This one proved that by folding its legs and collapsing onto its side.
I crept forward as it lost consciousness. Its breath had already stopped by the time I lay a hand on it.
And so, I began my work. The source would not vanish until the creature was truly dead. That required more than not breathing, but not much more.
I unwove the spell I prepared for this purpose. It was incomplete. I lacked the time to enchant an item with the spell and could only hold so much of it in preparation.
Still, it took me little time to finish and adjust to the creature. As the horses source vanished, my magic swooped in and replaced it with a link to myself.
An unfortunately large chunk of my essence was converted into a perfect imitation of unlife animus and traveled across the link. It flowed out into the horses soul.
The life animus that had fueled it washed away as new animus was provided. I felt out my new reanimated horse.
It was taking over two thirds of my essence generation. But, I could control it pretty easily.
The soul still remembered how it moved. I only needed to listen to it. The horse stood under my control.
As me, I snuck back to my pit. As the horse, I trotted to the same place. We met and I set to work.
Positioning the reanimated horse over the pit, I placed my knife just past its pelvic bone. Apparently it was a female.
Carefully cutting into the creature, I dragged the blade up to the base of the rib cage. The guts were not immediately freed.
I had to go back and clean up my cut before the internal organs were free to bulge out. A few careful nicks at both sides of the digestive tract, and everything was free to escape.
There really is very little keeping the organs in. I now had a pit full of organs and an empty horse.
The horse was unaffected by loosing all those pointless organs. After all, it was running on unlife animus now.
I stepped it past the pit and set to covering the organs with dirt. Once my gutting was hidden, I returned to the horse.
I pet the mane the way I saw some alma do. I could see why they liked doing it.
There was something soothing about it. Even more so when I could feel the stroking from the horse’s perspective.
Sitting the horse on its side, I crawled into the cavity and curled up as comfortably as possible. I did my best to pull the flesh back together.
I ended up resorting to casting to get both sides to line up correctly. At that point, I started healing the wound.
Flesh sealed together over the next few minutes. Another couple hours had the wound completely gone.
I was left in a cavity more than large enough for me. In fact, I was not big enough to comfortably fill the space.
My first idea was to make a spell that would inflate it the rest of the way. Then I mentally slapped myself for overlooking the obvious.
A minor use of shapeshifting later, and I perfectly filled the organ cavity. Having settled in, I stood with my horse disguise and surveyed my work.
The grass was stained with blotches of blood and the filled in pit was obvious. The heart had not been pumping blood, and the gutting happened over the pit.
However, there was no way to do this without leaving some gore. It was also easy to tell a large hole had been filled in.
That would change with time. Plus, I chose this spot for the unlikelihood of discovery.
Trotting around a bit, I grew comfortable with my de facto body. I was going to use this as my main body.
I might have been able to shapeshift into a horse. But, that plan would have posed several issues.
First, I would have to hide the body of whatever horse I replaced. With the relatively low number of them, I doubted the alma would overlook an extra appearing.
Hiding an entire corpse would need a much deeper hole. The digging of this one had already sucked.
Second, I was not that good at being a quadruped. The shapeshifting pattern had mechanisms built in to make different forms easier to control.
It even had a system to negate morphic dysphoria. After all, most creatures freaked out if their body did not match their instincts.
That was all solved by the pattern. At the core, those instincts were not part of the mind.
They were just a different form of the physical body, if not an anatomical one. And that meant they could be shapeshifted if you knew how to approach it.
No, I was just not used to acting like a horse. Controlling the body was one thing. But, controlling it the way a horse would was another.
The dead soul I was hijacking solved that. It already knew how to move and act like a horse.
All the little movements and demeanors still present. I had only replaced the conscious will.
As a result, I was walking like a real horse and acting perfectly natural within minutes. This was proven as I traveled to the river that ran through the enclosed area.
None of the horses by the water reacted to my presence. I waded into the river, getting deep enough that the water ran across the dried blood on my underside.
That might not have been regular horse behavior, but no one reacted. The application of a minor cleaning spell let the blood separate from my fur and join the water.
My disguise proved as effective against the alma as the horses. I was worried the first time I wandered into the center of their activity.
My worry quickly faded as they ignored me. I only got attention when I got in the way, something hard to do in the open space between their buildings.
Even then, they would just guide me out of the way. I got a bit worried the first time an alma put a harness on my head.
However, I quickly realized it was just how they led the horses effectively. That was made easier by how much this one talked.
In fact, a lot of alma talked to the horses. I did not think any of the others understood.
There was a certain shape to a sapient soul. Horses did not have it. Plus, I did not get the feeling the alma were expecting the horses to understand.
I mimicked the behavior of the other horses. And, that let me observe the alma close up. More importantly, it let my real body inside my horse observe their magic.
I got to observe the healer first hand. Or… hoof? I got to stand outside the building while she worked.
The wall had no effect on my nonphysical senses. I was able to analyze her work, and it was… complex.
The spells were reminiscent of the enchantment in healing potions. But, the mechanics within a healing potion were entirely automated.
Her healing still had a lot of automation. It was obvious from how the spells formed that systems in her soul were handling the microscopic details of living tissue.
Yet, it was seamlessly guided by conscious control. The principal was the same as essence healers. But, the alma’s automatic casting was clearly more advanced than ours.
I was also able to study the massive spell covering the central outpost. It was elaborate, but clearly inactive.
My best guess was some sort of kinetic spell. It also had force detection.
That was probably to help it react to anything that tried to move through. It would be pretty wasteful for the barrier to push against everything constantly.
Still, the details of the grand spell were even farther beyond me than the healers work. It was a good thing I had time.
Over the next month, I got familiar with the outpost and its residence. Most left for Rojin half way through.
But, they were replaced when the broken and battered remnants of an expedition staggered to the outpost. Not that most of them could walk on their own.