Chapter 6, Silver Snow
Every sense of mine came back to life slowly, something tugging at my pants urged my heart to beat faster. A sensation of wet saliva, with a rough tongue scraped against my arm as a detached feeling of pain grew. The fuzzy edges of my conscientiousness fading as my brain spooled back to life.
Breathing felt labored, some mixture of a bad hangover intermingled with the pain that came with a particular strenuous day at the gym. Simply put? I wanted nothing more than to curl up and die in a hole.
My mouth was far too dry, the sensation of dust had covered all open spaces that my skin shone through. Every breath that I took drew in smoke, once I had woken up enough for my eyelids to flicker open, a coughing fit overtook me. A light skittering raced away from my prone form at the noise I was making, prompting me to wave a hand over my head to further scavengers.
While I hadn't felt the beak of a vulture, the idea that something else had found me in the midst of my moment of weakness sent my heart racing.
I was a drop away from shattering into a thousand pieces, slowly putting myself back together as I reached a kneeling position. My chest heaving as my head rose above the layer of smoke to get as much oxygen as possible. The realization came far too late after the fact, that I had pushed my magic too far. Too soon.
The ache in my chest died down as my eyes adjusted to the morning's dawn, thin streams of the dawn's light lit up the entrance of the cave. The irritation that built up in my throat left as a raspy moan while I blind fumbled around for my flask filled with water.
Saying that I had landed myself in a sorry state would be quite the understatement, my gaze doing a quick sweep of my surroundings. Instead of a thin layer of mist wrapped up in between trees I saw a veritable graveyard. Black ash covered the forest floor, and what remained on the few trees remaining were darkened husks. Split upon and apart by the raw heat of last night's fire.
I could still feel a ghost of its warmth, issuing a silent prayer of gratitude to whatever or whoever was watching over me. While it didn't make us even, it was certainly a start.
The dozen feet of gravel that cut a patch through the forest, starving the raging fire of sustenance to follow me. A blanket of morning light illuminated the area, providing me with a vague assumption that I had awoken around eight, or eight thirty. Just a few steps away from the narrow path that I had carved with my. . . magic.
Certainly was odd to think of myself that way. Me, a wizard.
Pain in the form of a burning sensation on the back of my skull was the reminder of how far that I had pushed myself. Taking stock of the cave whose shelter I had sought out, my eyes settled on the brown shivering mass that had taken refuge further within. With three pairs of eyes, bright dots breaking up the image as they seemed to track my every movement.
I paused, taking in a sudden short breath to hold until my brain caught up with what it was I was looking back at. Releasing a puff of air through my nostrils as I recognized my fellow survivors. Coming to a decision after I let my mind take a look at my clothing, finding small marks where they had tried to rip apart my clothing.
They weren't newborns, that much was clear.
As much I was of the opinion to just leave them here before their parents returned, given that they hadn't already. I doubted that anyone was left to come back for them. Looking back at the aftermath, there was a particularly large black lump just a few feet away where the border of our little bastion ended.
While I am not one to celebrate the death of a parent, I was grateful that my morning had not started via an unprompted mauling. Dying to the pitbulls ancestor was something I had been hoping to avoid.
I kept an eye on the pups while rummaging through my bag, digging into the very bottom to take out a plastic bag full of jerky. I didn't have a steady supply of meat, just what I had brought with me weeks ago. Figuring that I'd hold off from devouring my only source of long lasting rations. Alcohol was a different matter, and the less said about my smoking habit the better.
So, wolf pups, what should I do with them? Under normal circumstances I'd just fuck off and let them fend for themselves, or drag them into an animal shelter. The ears of one of them perked up as I ripped the packaging open, my sensitive nose breathing the scent of salted meat.
My own stomach rumbled after detecting food, forcing me to take greater consideration of what I was about to do. I was already on the run, and I doubted that anyone would take them in given the time period. Wolves having a not too dissimilar reputation to modern day coyotes, can't say their pest status was undeserved.
An explosion of flavor spread across my tongue, salt, sugar and spice that had been cooked into the meat. Tearing the piece that I had chosen in half before I approached the pups. It was a stupid idea, but if it worked out in the end then it wouldn't be such a foolish thought in hindsight. Bringing them along with me was rationalized as an investment, and the cost low enough merit taking them considering that I didn't intend to keep them alive for that long. Better than getting scammed by a butcher again.
One of them flopped out of the puppy pile, eyes pinned on the strip of meat while its siblings backed up. Barking, more like light yips in an attempt to ward me off. The skinniest one that had taken a few steps toward me flinched after I threw the piece of meat out in front of its face. Releasing audible sniffs before it's mouth latched onto the treat.
The others seemed to have gotten the message, running past their sibling on wobbly paws after they saw me take out another strip of jerky. Nearly ripping the food out my hands before going back to snarling at me, in between bites that is.
A part of me wanted to pet them so badly, but interrupting someone mid meal, especially that of a wild animal was never a good idea. I was already being far too pushy with Lady Luck, so I chose to wait them out. Given their enthusiasm for food over focusing on me that seemed like the best move to make. Fiddling with cordage that I had also taken out of my bag, fidgeting with the strands that I kept with my injured hand.
None of them were really old enough to bark yet, and no older than a month.
In the time that they had gotten closer I was able to get a better look at them, the rising sun at the perfect angle while I looked them over. They weren't timber wolves, baring a pelt that was of a far warmer brown and tan than the grays and black from wolves back home. Fuckin' figures that even the wolves would be different here.
Fixing a makeshift leash around the necks of the pups was a task and a half, coaxing them to stay still with the promise of more jerky. Administering them in pieces so that they wouldn't try to bite my hand.
Took the longest to get the first wolf to comply, taking a dozen pieces while ducking its head out reach before I was able to loop the cord around her neck. Instead of dropping the last piece a safe distance away where she'd be comfortable, I kept it between my fingers. Close enough that when she approached to sniff my clenched fist I could hand it over so that I could secure a grip on her neck.
Doing so turned out to be the worst decision to make, as an icy sensation proceeded to crawl up my arm. Buckling under the pain that lights up the nerves in my splintered limb, the wolf in my finger stilled as my vision became hazy.
Breathing was harder, each one taking far longer to complete as I had been suddenly thrust into taking manual control of it. The blood that filled my veins seemingly threatened to burst forth, with heartbeats that resembled the same sort of echo in this cave as something natural. And my thoughts? My thoughts were an absolute mess. Caught between a feverish desire to sate my hunger, overwhelming anxiety that was worse than this morning's cold winter air and my very sense of self fought to reassert itself.
My nose was wet, puffy as it radiated heat into the cold air. There was so much, so much more than just the jerky that lay. A ghost of sensation made its way into my skull, forcing me to take a knee as I came to familiarize myself with things I should have never been capable of noticing. The salty sweat that permeated in the air, or flesh that had been burned that had all been hidden behind a thick layer of smoke.
My two siblings worriedly yapping right into my ears were the first sounds that I managed to make out once I left my stupor, both of them nudging me to stand up from where I had collapsed onto the floor. I just wanted things to go back to how they were before the fire, for the pack to be back together and whole. To sate the thirst that had set in, to return and venture further home to escape the brutal cold. With all the pressure building one of my worst habits reared its ugly head, but for once I was grateful.
As the side of my cheek erupted in pain the distinction between man of beast became clear, I regained my grip of the paracord leashes that I had tied around the juvenile wolves. Going as far as to lift myself up with my hands and knees before the terrible sense of nausea swept through me. My speech slurring with a mix of growls while words felt like a foreign concept to my tongue and vocal cords, "Urgh. .What in the Sam fuck was that?"
I felt naked in the state that I was in, the cold morning air brushing against my skin without any fur to shield me from it. Taking in slow breaths so that I could allow my double hearts to synchronize, pushing away the concerned yips that banged against my skull. Getting back onto my two feet was a difficult affair, as my weight seemed to almost double after I heard something 'thump!' as it hit the ground. Pain sprouted from the back of my head as I heard one of the wolves whimper from some injury.
Once able to stand I swung my head over to the trio, with the two of my sibl- the siblings huddled around their prone kin. The ghost of someone's touch kept nudging my cheek, and I soon made the connection when they prodded their fallen kin at the same time.
Karma, that's what this was.
Realistically it was probably the weirdest shit that I had gone through to date since arriving here, a pattern that fate had no intention of diverting from. Feeling a particularly strong wave of nausea washed over me that brought me to my knees the moment after my revelation.
Returning to my senses the second time today, I had to wipe my mouth clean of the drool that accounted. Spitting out the excess saliva that was in my throat, dry heaving because it had been a whole day since the last time I ate. Part of me just wanted to lay down and die, the mixture of homo sapien and canine instincts remained at odds with each other. It was frustrating, compartmentalizing the inexplicable bond we shared. Eventually putting the metaphorical lid on that shit, staying calm so that the lower rate of my second heart could pump the foreign sensations and thoughts through my chest instead of my brain.
Burying that second set of instincts and thoughts under my own seemed to work. Slowly becoming aware of veins and other parts of my body stuck in a state that my second heart seemed to mimic, like some strange reflection of myself. By the way pups stopped whimpering in the background it had seemed like I had done something right for a change.
The wolf that I had seemingly 'bonded' to, was an exhausted lump of fur too tired to object to being picked up. A small puddle of salvia right beside her, pieces of jerky that she had failed to swallow after throwing up lay on the floor. Merely huffing when I scooped her up into my arms, meanwhile her sibling just pawed at my legs. No worse for wear in comparison, and for that reason I was reluctant to actually touch either of them.
I didn't want to go through that whole ordeal again, honestly the overstimulation made me want to rip off my own skin. The world was too dirty, more active than I could even possibly manage, but I did so anyway. Whatever psychic jet lag that I was under maintained its grip, slowly loosening with every step that I took. Taking my- the pups along with me, making not of the devastation left behind by the forest fire consuming everything in its wake.
What quickly became oblivious was how lucky that I had been, or we had if I was to include present company. Momentary glancing at one of the pups for the noisy cough he released, accidentally inhaling ash from a particularly thick cloud of it that had been kicked up. Lightly tugging on the little guy's leash to get him to follow along and ignore the destruction wrought upon the valley.
A reminder that I made in vain and would come to realize that the three of them were all very curious, and equally as stubborn. I really shouldn't been expecting anything less given their feral nature even if they were old enough to put much of a scratch on me. My- the older sister of the trio would a moment later would tug on me in turn, wishing to investigate the burned bodies of one of my pursuers.
In this we were of one mind, the former to satiate her curiosity, and the latter. I suppose to satiate my more morbid curiosity, being allowed unrestricted internet access had been a mistake.
Coming across some of the remains of those that had made an effort to pursue me, finding the bodies as I returned to the main road that I fled from. There wasn't much left, just a dozen burned bodies of people whose steeds had abandoned them once the fire gained speed. There we're a couple of torn pieces of rope to support the theory, with an oddly straight line in the dirt leaving the forest beside tracks left by a horse heading north.
Much like crows and other corvids, the pups seemed to have a fondness for shiny things. With the three of them, the one that I had bonded with becoming too restless while in my arms to hold onto. I had no interest in sticking around long enough for any of the survivors to double back, and look for me. Getting the creeps with all the corpses of people that had failed to escape the flames.
There was plenty that I could've looted off the bodies themselves, but there wasn't much that I was capable of taking with me. Empty bottle and vials littered the ground where the dead could be found, abandoned weapons that lay on the ground or impaled into the bodies of wolves.
While the vast majority of weapons that had been left behind were cheap and frankly weren't worth the effort that it would take to carry them. Shitty iron and bronze blades that hadn't fared well under the heat, malformed with clumps of dirt that clinging to the metal. There was one piece of bronze that did catch my eye though, not quite a spear but certainly larger than the short swords that I had become familiar with.
(1) Bronze ingot
Had it been a brighter shade than I might have mistaken it for brass, the damaged axe head had suffered like most weaponry on display. Caught in the dead center of the road, the shaft shattered and splintered into a million pieces. Absolutely fucking useless, then again I lacked the hands necessary to make much use of it anyway.
That didn't mean that I left it behind, instead choosing to use my knife to tear it free from the wood. The tourist in me was trying to figure out how I'd best put it on display, and fighting my rat half that wanted to sell it.
'My life really hasn't gone the way that I ever expected it too,' The idle thought gained a significant amount of weight as dissociated while chipping away at the wood. While I could've called it a day once the broken shaft was fully dislodged, the work gave me time to think and my devilish hands something to be occupied with. One of the pups tugged at my pant leg while my thoughts were in the midst of spiraling, "Hmm? Hello brown shitling #2, I'm afraid that I am out of jerky."
The damn things just looked up at me with it'd dumb ol' eyes like I somehow had all the answers to its worldly questions. Stepping back to sit up right we just exchanged a glance before I released a huff. Leaning over I bent down to scratch the canine behind the ear like I would any other dog, completely forgetting what went down last time. Only making the logical leap in logic the moment that my fingers grazed the ma- top of the fur that lined the tip of my brother's ears.
'Fucking moron.'
Not much went through my head, more or less erupting into a cold sweat on the spot as I started to convulse. It sucked, majorly. Though it was nothing to blame but myself while I writhed in pain on the dirt road. Must've looked strange, a man shaking on the floor with three wolf pups surrounded on all sides by the ruined forest.
Contemplation of my life choices aside, it seemed there actually was something in my stomach that I ended up ejecting. Though from the rancid smell it appeared that the substance was more along the lines of digestive acid then the remnants of any actual food. I would've preferred to just have passed out from the overload, the new influx of sensations redoubled just when it felt that it was about to subside.
Sheer volume of information flooded my brain, sights and sounds that my human mind lacked the ability to categorize. My only saving grace while I coughed up dirt was its lower quality, shades of gray that wolves couldn't comprehend but appeared familiar to my eyes.
Their sense of smell dwarfed mine, the ashy layer had been overpowering other lesser scents that my human nose had been too weak to detect. Smoke filled my lungs, overwhelming the remnants of familiarity coming off of the four legged charred lumps. A hint of something unnatural, made sure that I could not mistake the smell of pork for anything other than what truely. It certainly wasn't coming from dead wolves while we were so close to the roads.
My vision came back in pieces, fuzzy stars in overlapping patterns while I pushed myself back onto my two feet. Everything was sharp, with mere air stabbing my skin bearing the force of thousands tiny needles. Taking a breath made me buckle from the heartburn that kept me from properly breathing deeply. While the weight of my clothing had me on the brink of clawing off my skin.
I was not having the time of my life, my salvation coming in the form of my natural heart rate pumping back up. My panicking nerves fell silent as the full body feeling of paresthesia faded away.
"Fuck me sideways," My words we're slurred, muttered in the midst of mentally washing away the aftermath demonic version of what I'd bet people would label a 'religious expierence'. Demonic possession maybe? I maintained a death grip on my knees, one wrong misstep might have led to dislocating my own caps or worse. Generally I was at a loss for what I had done to deserve experiencing the 'finding out' half of fuck around to such a degree, "God, if you can hear me. Please stop. Just give me rabies at this point."
While talking aloud made me feel marginally better, I felt equally unstable to be muttering at no one in particular. The disoriented puppies didn't judge me at least, too fucked up that I hoped our connection was largely one way.
I don't think that I could handle any more insanity like animals that could speak latin might just break me. Even if I had unconsciously long abandoned the plan to use them as my portable meat lockers, they were proving to be more trouble than they're worth.
Their consciousness's lay at the back of my own, at the chewing I felt against my expensive boots I released an animalistic growl of my own. It should've concerned me more, but my frustration outweighed the level of mercy that formed the basis of my morals. Not being able to vent more feelings about being stuck in this shithole leaked over.
Having to walk on veritable egg shells just so that I could hold onto my fragile freedom had been driving me up the wall. Working myself down to the bone on that damn ship, looking over my shoulder with every footstep I heard coming from behind when I had to pass through a town.
My hate outweighed their merger existence, if they had been older, closer to adults and not just a month or so old they may have been able to put up a better fight. A maelstrom of negative emotions thrashed them, my erratic thoughts jumping each one. The echoes of their minds slowed to crawl, unraveling as my stress boiled over the barrier and began to affect them in term.
"Be quiet," The world stilled, oversaturation and the different angle of awareness stuttered as it was replaced with my human lens of seeing things. My chest heaved from the exertion, feeling like I had run a mile as I lay on my hands and knee. At the whimpering of the pups temper ignited and sent the creature cowering again, "Just shut up you little shits!"
I wanted to be rid of them, I think they felt much the same if feedback I was getting suggested anything. Had I been a lesser man, a more meager animal it might have turned into a loop. My rage tapered off, even while acting as some fucked up nexus point for four distinct mind I was left unbroken. Bent in dozens of places that the beating veins throughout skull and deeper threaded through my brain, aching with pain.
Just thinking about it, zoning out while I sat in the dirt brought on a terrible migraine.
So instead I just walked, heading south with some vague clue of where I was heading in the foreign land. Kept walking even when my mind heard the complaints of cubs that had tired and we're being half dragged along, feeling both the objections and their own exhaustion before my ears registered the sound. They went ignored, I loved dogs but to compare these wild things to them would be my last mistake. One that I wasn't all that eager to make.
They were tied to a tree most nights, left with their feet hanging several feet above the ground. Biting my leg had been the least of what had been done, and they had clearly never heard of the saying that advised you to not bite the hand that feeds. I had little patience for them, especially when I adjusted to their presence in my head.
Staring at the last cigarette that I had left, illuminated by the small campfire that I had managed to scrape together was particularly depressing. If they were going to stick around then I had decided that if they wanted to continue existing, being a nuisance would no longer be allowed.
God I craved it, needed it more than I relied on air to breathe or sleep to keep me oiled. I was wound up worse than a spring, with the key for my stress in my goddamn hands. My hands were clammy, sweaty too as I put my lifeline away and rubbed the bridge of my noise. I was dying inside and I wasn't quite sure how much longer I would last this go around.
Even sitting but a single foot away from the orange flame the icy chill in my bones remained. I didn't want to go through it again, not here, not when I had gotten so far with so much further to go.
Clutching my own hair was the only thing I could do to center myself, sat on some dirty log begging to burn. I'm a crazy person, or this is hell. Of that I was sure of, being robbed of my own peace and quiet that I had been able to rely upon in days past.
click!
Safe to say that I didn't sleep much that first night, and I could feel the bags forming under my eyes as the sun came up the second go around.
click!
Bathing in a nearby river helped, though my shortening temper kept it as a relatively calm affair. The water helped wash off the stench, weeks of sweat mixed in with the dirt and general grime. I wasn't all that experienced in cleaning clothes, and I lacked the right things to really make use of the source of freshwater. Though I would like to say that I tried my best, it was therapeutic to say the least. Kinda wished that I could've spent more time there, but after spending half a day in one place my paranoia got the better me.
click!
God I missed the rain, it's fucking winter. Where did all the goddamn snow go?!
click!
Really I shouldn't be jinxing myself, but it was turning out to be hard not to. There were only so many times that you could sharpen a knife, or collect spare tinder before going stir crazy. I was too afraid to drain my phone of its battery.
10:45 A.M. Saturday, January, 18th . . . No Signal Available 43% /..]
Just using it to periodically check on the time, though it was probably a bad decision to go through with in the long term. Merely upsetting myself whenever I turned the thing on after an hour would pass. So I traded it out of something to satiate my ever building anxiety, and actually running out of battery like a phone would.
click!
Flicking my lighter on and off again to occupy my mind while traversing through the forest. The grays and brown landscape had been exchanged for one without so much ash. A mixture of sounds and smells made their new appearance through the bond I shared with the cubs, to say the new sensations had slowed us down would be an understatement.
It took some adjusting to, finding the chirping of birds fascinating as the noise bounced around inside of my skull. Picking up traces of fur that had been torn from the bodies of wild beasts hooked onto barren foliage. Some seemed to belong to prey while others to predators.
The pieces that I took notice of turned out to be more recent as I continue to travel south. Nothing the same shade of light brown that the cubs shared, or those that might've belonged to grown wolves.
Eventually I came across a scent that felt like my own, something rustic and metallic that clung to the stump of a tree. A steel axe lay embedded into the log of a fallen tree just a few feet away. Growing closer to the clearing my anxiety peaked, the pups ignorant of my racing thoughts sniffed at the abandoned tool's wooden handle. Something about the quiet village a mile off from here unsettled me.
My steps were tentative, taking out my knife to be wielded in a forward grip as I creeped closer from the safety of the treeline. It took a while, but the cubs seemed to catch on. Following behind me with their heads low to the ground as they tried to mimic my stealthy approach by stalking instead of running out in front of me.
The birds had stopped chirping, apart from my own breathing or that of the cubs beside me. Turning my gaze toward the tree line opposite to me I wasn't able to spot any sparrows or ravens that I'd grown accustomed to. Weighing my options in my mind turned out to be pointless, coming to the conclusion that it would be in my best interest to investigate further. Even if I ran the risk of capture, getting my hands on food was always going to be high on my priority list..
Stepping into the open was a risk, one that I took with bated breath as I entered town. Everytime my feet or those of the cubs crunched the gravel, my heart leapt into my throat while my head was on a constant swivel. I always expected some to pop up, tunic and trousers or a town guard clad in chainmail.
Nothing ever came of it.
The place was a ghost town- ghost village, it was too small to be categorized as the former but the distinction hardly mattered. It was dead, littered with empty with classically old Canadian homes that had been boarded up. Shops had been closed up and an entire street had been blocked off with several carts blocking the way.
My first place to loot turned out to be the smithy, returning to the abandoned logging axe to help me tear down barricades. It was awkward not being able to rely on my dominant arm to deliver the blows, forcing me to slow down and take frequent breaks. The tendons in my severed wrist burned, something definitely hadn't healed correctly by the way my right hand would spasm uncontrollable if I twisted the blade too far.
Doing the same for every single building quickly became incredibly unappealing once the job was done I was free to drop the dead weight. The place reeked, brick and mortar led to a sickeningly sweet smell coming from inside. Combined the cubs pulled against me, bucking furiously at my insistence to enter the building.
Grumbling to myself I left them tied to a post, leaving them behind while I looked for supplies inside. Ignoring how the youngest, the very same cub that I had initially established a bond with frantically scratched my leg. The pup ceased to bother me after I grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and pinned it with a glare. Sitting on its hind legs before she flopped down onto her belly with a whimper.
I kicked the door in, flipped my phone around and turned on the flashlight function so that I could search the building more effectively. The place had been ransacked, seemingly, even before I had gotten here. Little of value remained in the main room, spare logs and coals were piled high stored within a bin in the corner. Drawers lacked tools, half finished projects lacked the metal that would normally top off wooden handles.
There wasn't much money, not like I had much use for a dozen spare gold coins hidden behind a shelf. Stuck inside of this wretched place, smelling like a dead raccoon had been rotting for a week straight. I wanted nothing more than to be able open a window, or at the very least pry apart the bars that had been placed over every possible opening.
(2) Silver ore
Amongst the cold coals that formed the basis for the forge held two chunks of something that did catch my eye. A pair of silvery rocks, like if steel had taken a bad blend to make a brittle alloy from being mixed with granite. Each one coming in at about a pound more or less from my guesstimates. Releasing a satisfied sigh, both went straight into my backpack.
Thinking that I had come across a pretty good find all things considered and with my good mood I rose to my full height. Spotting the tip of someone's shoe from the corner of my vision I panicked, almost tripping over myself as my phone fell to the floor.
My knife was out in my left hand in a quick blur of movement, ready to defend myself in the event that I had to. But nothing ever came for me, the half of the person's shoe that I could see remained where it was. It was the only real reason I felt confident enough to pick my phone back up again. Releasing a 'tsk' under my breath as I spent a brief moment to examine the damage, "Fuck!"
There was a huge crack running through the center of the screen, but remained perfectly functional behind that. Seems like my screen protector had been money well spent as it had taken the brunt of it, though I could've benefited from having a real case. The flimsy plastic piece of shit that held artwork on the back proved to be a bad decision.
"pfffffff," Breathing out slowly the coil of heat that had built up within the deepest part of my gut began to unwind. The sudden drop in temperature was reflected in the puff of warm air that exited my mouth.
I wanted to leave my knife behind, hold onto the feeling that had crawled itself up my throat. Certain that magic would impart a greater effect than a six inch knife in the hands of a fucking cripple.
Relying on the supernatural capacity to conjure flames or blast someone with ice was a bit hit or miss. Turning the corner to find the dead body, presumably the one that belonged to this village's smithy.
From the size of the corpse, had the man been alive and actually taken issue with me going through his belongings. I don't think that I would've had the breathing room to blow his face off.
What was left of the man made my stomach squirm at the sight. Bloated and releasing gas as flies ate away at the older man's face, the sight and sound made me gag while in his presence. Even if I hadn't been intent on channeling the feeling in my gut into an actual spell, the water that I had been balancing spilled from my cupped hands. Relief washed over me before disgust overtook it, the germaphobe in me realizing why this town had been so vacant of life.
The aftermath was fairly obvious to me now, but I needed more information as to what had affected the people here. People had been boarding up their homes, in the port city I passed through with [Oliver] at my side. I had wondered why we never stayed in an inn or hotel for longer than a day at most.
Guessing how long the body had been dead was a bit hit or miss, especially when you're dealing with diseases. Prying open one of his eyelids with my blade bore no fruit, finding a lifeless milky gaze staring back at me. Something like spores stored in the puss and blood burst forth after I lifted up his tunic with the edge of my knife.
"God damn," I was playing with fire and that had been the last straw to get me moving. To seriously kick me into the next gear and back away from the corpse while I held in my breath the best I could. Only releasing a sigh of relief after I had slammed the door behind me on my way out.
A sudden feeling of being unclean had overtaken me, the creeping paranoia of my own mind whispered traitorous thoughts. Ones that I couldn't escape even while I occupied idle hands with untying the cubs, their own restlessness a reflection of my own anxiety. Stamping down on the little frustration that I had felt with myself as my hands struggled to speed up the process.
Snap!
Sitting on the outskirts with the cubs my focus was on the flames, flickering between shades of orange, red and yellow. My mind tried to rationalize the systemic razing of the settlement. The work had been a lonesome affair, using my heartbeat to focus on expelling the heat needed to torch every building. The fire was in my blood, in my very veins as the two parts of me became one whole in order to become a living lighter.
Snap!
Part of me wanted to create a moat, just to do so that I didn't have to stare at the wooden building crumbling to pieces.
Snap!
That any of the gods held me and what I did to what was left of that town in a favorable light after I had cleared out a moat around the village. Most were located in the center of, isolated from the greater forest that surrounded the clearing. Nails aching digging out roots so that the blaze wouldn't have any way to bridging the gap. I desperately didn't want a second dead forest on my conscience, nor did I want to focus on how small my fuckups made me feel.
Snap!
Sometimes I think God was speaking to me, but not in tongues. He is the quiet moments, when I am most alone. His words etched into the wood and stone in equal measure, while I could not make heads or tails of the abandoned little village.
Snap!
I wish that I could say that he approved of my actions.
The tips of my fingers hurt from snapping, falling back on the motion to trigger the magical variant of combustion. Repeating the motion even now with the steely determination to actually try to advance my skill with magic. No matter how insane the proposition made me feel. Willing sparks into existence while the pups played with each other until every building in the town burned to the ground.
5 Reason
Can't say I learned much, by the time that the flames died down I didn't feel any more proficient in magic. I assumed that it would take more than an hour to see any noticeable results, but that is what I get for getting my hopes up.
My path south didn't really consist much of a tangible plan, cutting through the forest while avoiding the main roads at every opportunity. The map wasn't really clear when it came to the local geography.
It depicted the continent as a whole and parts of the surrounding landmases, and while that in itself was intriguing. The distant deserts of the far north or miles of ocean that lay to my right were hardly relevant. Besides, I could literally see the westward sea of '[Mach Coast]' for miles from my place on the hill.
Part of me was worried heading this far south, with a large mountain range to my east. My left. The trajectory that I was on didn't allow for much wiggle room. Even if I made it to the capital without being intercepted, there was a high chance that I'd encounter resistance. With getting chased being a very real possibility I had to consider what options I had, or the lack thereof. Seeing as my best chance lay in looking for someone that could help send me back home in the nation's capital.
With a possible hostel city to what would be my back in my worst case scenario, my emergency escape paths were quite limited. I would undoubtedly wash back up on shore if I fled to my west/left, or die from drowning if the waves proved to be too rough. Thus I was left with risking retreading my own steps or going mountain climbing, eventually coming to prefer the rocky incline over this forest.
At least by going east I could level the playing field by making it harder for those with horses to follow any tracks that I'd leave behind. Here's to hoping I suppose, as a chill went down my spine what luck I possessed was a thin rope.
Just enough from the gods so that I could hang myself, god damnit Jupiter. The bags under my eyes had grown, just enough so that my vision being cut in half had become the new normal. My eyelids lay halfway on my face like I was constantly ready to take a nap. It was hard to sleep, even harder to find the will in me to eat as time just seemed to crawl by.
Settling a whole ass tent every night just so that I could take a few hours to sleep just seemed so. . . inefficient. That excuse was apt in my mind, everything stemming from my own safety was more important.
If I got far enough the bounty hunters would lose my trail, when I reached the city it would matter. That woman being nothing more than a fever dream would be something I'd joke with my step siblings about.
The weight on my frame, shoulders that felt more sore than I had ever had before in my life. Carried something on top of my altered clothes, making me feel dirty on multiple levels. Hugging my cloak closer to myself, just buried my head within the article of clothing that weighed a dozen more pounds than it ought to. Channeling magic was getting harder to do, wasn't practice meant to lead toward perfection?
What was I doing wrong. . .
Next morning brought snow, a new chill had settled into my bones because of it. I cut the pups loose before the energy left my body, the fading heartbeats that I felt through the connection we shared proved to be too much.
We just spent that morning cuddling, the hounds with their wet noses pressed against my sides under the cover of my warm cloak. The relative warmth brought by our proximity was enough to set aside any grievances I had kept in reserve. It all could wait for tomorrow when letting go and closing my eyes didn't feel like the last time I would be alive to witness.
Several hours passed like that, until life returned to my limbs and my chest ached for the distant memory of caffeine. Dunkin, gods I would kill for some good coffee.
The memory was enough for the meanwhile as I shook myself free of the freshly fallen snow, the cubs yipping at me for being pushed off their personal heater. Ironically the only thing that saved them from my retribution was the cold. Preventing my mana infused frustration to build up enough so that they could feel it over our connection. Chuckling darkly, I chased after them.
Grabbing them by the scalp I finished the job that I had started in the morning.
Shhlivp! Shhlivp! Shhlivp!
What remained of their paracord leashes fell apart as my knife made a clear cut through each of the makeshift collars that I had made for them. I was almost tempted to leave the older female leash on after she bit my hand hard enough to draw blood while I was in the middle of cutting her out of it.
Her brother just tugged on her leg before I went back on my decision, bringing an exasperated sigh from my lips. The familiar sight just made it all that much more painful, seeing a piece of home but just succeeded in reminding me of where I was stuck. Wrapping up my aching right hand with the dark brown cloth of my cloak I muttered under breath, "Don't make me regret this you little shits."
Looking at the newly winter wonderland of a landscape all the joints in my legs ached in unison. Though at least I wouldn't have to worry about dragging a certain trio straight through the snow. Whether they would be able to keep up, well I suppose that we'd have to find out.
The visage of gray walls that lined the foundations for the great city in the distance winked at me. Sunlight shone off the snow that had collected to make the nation's capital look incredible from this distance.
A jewel of a city that was smaller than a quarter if I brought one up from my pocket to compare. The still active port flush with the visage of tiny warships pushed that extra pep in my step that I needed. No matter how many of the pricks were there, I was going to go home whether it was the death of me or not. Looking over my shoulder I spotted an out of control snowball barreling past me, the two other wolf cubs chasing after it.
Hah, if I didn't speed up they were going to be the ones to leave me behind.
Chapter 6 Note:
I have but one excuse: Midterms. To say that I feel ill would be an understatement, I have another test in two days lol.
Before I was cucked by classes I had planned for the 'mind merge' to be a lot more visceral, and costly on both sides. Diarrhea etc etc, that was until I realized that Alcides hadn't eaten anything in a while to leave behind. Oh well.
Choices (optional to participate in)
1) Fucked up shit has been pushed back to Chapter 8. I bring this up to bring you a once in a lifetime opportunity, a character fate rewrite. Be warned! I have many terrible things in store for multiple characters, and you are only getting this once. You can comment complex conditions under which this will activate(like saving it for later or something), but if enough people comment just the name with nothing else. I will monkey's paw the fuck out of it, like if I wrote something fucked up that happened to a character in a past chapter. There will be no retcon. This is not comparable to Sothis's time reversals.
2) Pick one deficiency and proficiency for Alcides to adopt, alongside the proficiencies and deficiencies he already possesses. If they coincide or contradict what is already present then a proficiency will be negated or a deficiency will be converted into a weakness.
3) Wolf pup names! WooooooW, you guys get to name the dogs. That or I'll just spin a randomizer for names that I think would be funny. (New!)
Character Sheet and Details
Alcides, Lv [7] Monk, Experience: 150/177
HP: 28 (40%)
Mv: 2
Str: 10 (35%)
Lck: 9 (30%)
Mag: 18 (60%)
Def: 11 (35%)
Dex: 9 (40%)
Res: 18 (60%)
Spd: 13 (50%)
Cha: 4 (20%)
Base Critical Chance: 9% = [(Luck Dex) / 2]
Dodge: 8% = Luck Ability bonus
Attack Speed: 8 = Speed [Inventory weight (Strength / 5)]
Class Growths: (Monk)
HP: 5%, Str: 0%, Mag: 5%, Dex: 0%, Spd: 0%, Lck: 0%, Def: 0%, Res: 5%, Cha: 0%
Personal Skill: Deserve to Die - Foes within four spaces take 2 extra points of damage.
Class Ability 1: Prepare - Spend an action to store any spell that can be triggered at any later date as an action with no reaction. [Mage Mastery required, 4/60]
Class Ability 2: Logos , Lv 1 - Grants 1 range for spells per whole new letter grade beyond F. (1)
Class Ability 3: Pathos, Lv 1 - Increases the user's max uses of spell by 0.1 per partial letter grade beyond F. (x 1.1)
Class Ability 4: Ethos, Lv 2 - Grants the ability to use magic that is lower than or equal to this skill's level multiplied by two. (Threshold of 4 Might)
Class Ability 5: [Mastery required]
Ability 1: Knife Prowess, Lv 5 - Grants 5% to land a crit while using sharp weapons.
Ability 2:
Ability 3:
Ability 4:
Ability 5:
Learned Combat Arts: Flash Slash - Allows the user to throw their weapon at the target, with a durability cost of 5 while preventing counter attacks with a range of 1~2 tiles. Strength Weapon Might 3 = Attack.
Learned Abilities: (jack shit)
Learned Spells: Blaze - Mt: 3. Hit: 85. Crit: 15. Rng: 1. Wt: 1. Lv: F. Uses: 35. Description: Can inflict Burns that reduce physical defense equal to might on critical hits.
Skill Levels: Knives (63; D), Reason (38; D), Authority (10; E), Faith (5; F)
Proficiencies: Reason.
Deficiencies: Faith.
Budding Talent: (to be decided later)
Inventory: Steel Knife (1 mt, 10% crit, 1 wt), 1 Blizzard Tome (2 wt), No Vulneraries, and a pair of Sacred Galewind Shoes (0 wt), traveling pack (7 wt), 2 silver ore, 1 bronze ingot.
Currency: 955, 955 Marks - 1 Small Bullion/Kilogram and 55 Gold Coins.