quick, “Be safe.”
“Thanks for everything!” Xalen called back before he darted into the curtain of leaves.
“Come back and visit sometime,” was the last thing Xalen heard from Febron before the eerie silence of the forest once again took hold.
ΩΩΩ
They had been trudging through the dark trees for about two hours when Xalen, growing tired of the silent treatment, blurted out a question. “So. Why is Febron so far away from the dojo?”
Silence.
He pressed on. “I mean. The dojo is so big. I’m sure you could find a place to put him, and that way he won’t have to be alone all the time.” The melody of birds erupted around them for a second, then it stopped as quickly as it had began. “Or at least Sensei Kayos could send someone to spend some time with him. He seemed really lonely. Maybe an apprentice would do him—”
“Shhhh!” called Junia from up ahead.
Xalen didn’t know what was going on, but he did as he was told. He mimicked Junia, who was now staring intently at the ground below them.
“What’s going on?” asked Xalen.
“Shhhh!”
Junia’s eyes darted up at the trees above, then back down at the ground. “Get back!” She didn’t wait for Xalen to react; instead she grabbed him by the neck and tossed him aside. Xalen stumbled into a tree trunk. No sooner had he come to a stop, then the ground he had been standing on exploded in a web of cracks. A long, scaly hand erupted from the earth, taking hold of the firm ground. A grunt that sounded more like a howl followed.
What is that? Before Xalen’s mind could come up with an answer, the body that belonged to the hand emerged. It was something so vile, so terrible, that he could only describe it as a product of the most twisted of nightmares.
The creature before them was a Dearg, of that Xalen was certain. He’d never seen one before, and he knew that most of them differed physically, but there were certain traits that all Deargs shared: the brown masked face, unnatural long smile that seemed to have been stitched together by a child playing with red yarn, the crimson mop of hair, and the putrid stench of rotting corpse.
The sheer size of it, easily over twenty feet long and ten feet tall, caused Xalen to freeze, fear taking hold as the Dearg approached him on all fours. Everything moved in slow motion. The creature’s defined muscles along its black body flexed and unflexed as its legs pumped at an uneven pace. The mouth opened, revealing a set of sharp fangs and an impossibly long, forked tongue. Then, with an untamed ferocity, the creature took to the air, its massive body looming over the Alioth. It was mere feet away from Xalen when it was suddenly and viciously thrown back by a tremendous blue blast to its gut. It crashed, back first, into a nearby tree.
The Dearg hissed savagely at its attacker.
Junia stood, with a bored expression on her face, looking down at the massive monster. In her hands she carried a long, lapis-lazuli rifle.
The Dearg recovered, bared its fangs, and ignored the Feehan, moving toward Xalen once more.
This time Junia sprinted directly into the Dearg’s path, jumping and landing on the creature’s mask. Her right hand laced around a chunk the monster’s untamed hair. She waved her free hand. A blue cube from her bracelet came lose. Instantly, the cube opened, taking the shape of a handgun.
How the? Xalen’s mind was still trying to figure out how such a small cube could have taken the shape of an orange handgun ten times its size, when Junia unloaded shot after shot at point-blank range into the Dearg.
The orange blaster shots bounced off the mask and flew into the nearby trees, burning a clear slash mark in the trunk where they landed.
Junia’s fiery red eyes widened ever so slightly.
The clawed hand of the Dearg came up, swatting the Feehan aside like a mild pest. A cloud of dust and grass rose from the forest floor as Junia rolled across it. Before she came to a stop, she
“Thanks for everything!” Xalen called back before he darted into the curtain of leaves.
“Come back and visit sometime,” was the last thing Xalen heard from Febron before the eerie silence of the forest once again took hold.
ΩΩΩ
They had been trudging through the dark trees for about two hours when Xalen, growing tired of the silent treatment, blurted out a question. “So. Why is Febron so far away from the dojo?”
Silence.
He pressed on. “I mean. The dojo is so big. I’m sure you could find a place to put him, and that way he won’t have to be alone all the time.” The melody of birds erupted around them for a second, then it stopped as quickly as it had began. “Or at least Sensei Kayos could send someone to spend some time with him. He seemed really lonely. Maybe an apprentice would do him—”
“Shhhh!” called Junia from up ahead.
Xalen didn’t know what was going on, but he did as he was told. He mimicked Junia, who was now staring intently at the ground below them.
“What’s going on?” asked Xalen.
“Shhhh!”
Junia’s eyes darted up at the trees above, then back down at the ground. “Get back!” She didn’t wait for Xalen to react; instead she grabbed him by the neck and tossed him aside. Xalen stumbled into a tree trunk. No sooner had he come to a stop, then the ground he had been standing on exploded in a web of cracks. A long, scaly hand erupted from the earth, taking hold of the firm ground. A grunt that sounded more like a howl followed.
What is that? Before Xalen’s mind could come up with an answer, the body that belonged to the hand emerged. It was something so vile, so terrible, that he could only describe it as a product of the most twisted of nightmares.
The creature before them was a Dearg, of that Xalen was certain. He’d never seen one before, and he knew that most of them differed physically, but there were certain traits that all Deargs shared: the brown masked face, unnatural long smile that seemed to have been stitched together by a child playing with red yarn, the crimson mop of hair, and the putrid stench of rotting corpse.
The sheer size of it, easily over twenty feet long and ten feet tall, caused Xalen to freeze, fear taking hold as the Dearg approached him on all fours. Everything moved in slow motion. The creature’s defined muscles along its black body flexed and unflexed as its legs pumped at an uneven pace. The mouth opened, revealing a set of sharp fangs and an impossibly long, forked tongue. Then, with an untamed ferocity, the creature took to the air, its massive body looming over the Alioth. It was mere feet away from Xalen when it was suddenly and viciously thrown back by a tremendous blue blast to its gut. It crashed, back first, into a nearby tree.
The Dearg hissed savagely at its attacker.
Junia stood, with a bored expression on her face, looking down at the massive monster. In her hands she carried a long, lapis-lazuli rifle.
The Dearg recovered, bared its fangs, and ignored the Feehan, moving toward Xalen once more.
This time Junia sprinted directly into the Dearg’s path, jumping and landing on the creature’s mask. Her right hand laced around a chunk the monster’s untamed hair. She waved her free hand. A blue cube from her bracelet came lose. Instantly, the cube opened, taking the shape of a handgun.
How the? Xalen’s mind was still trying to figure out how such a small cube could have taken the shape of an orange handgun ten times its size, when Junia unloaded shot after shot at point-blank range into the Dearg.
The orange blaster shots bounced off the mask and flew into the nearby trees, burning a clear slash mark in the trunk where they landed.
Junia’s fiery red eyes widened ever so slightly.
The clawed hand of the Dearg came up, swatting the Feehan aside like a mild pest. A cloud of dust and grass rose from the forest floor as Junia rolled across it. Before she came to a stop, she
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