Chapter Twentyfour
The trip took seven more arduous, blister-inducing days. At the end they found themselves standing on the lip of caldera.
They had crossed out of the Kingdom of Vildris, skirted the edges of the Republic of Doria, and pushed deep into the unclaimed wilds. Now, they overlooked the lava bays."
The massive caldera stretched for miles, a jagged bowl of green jungle and black rock, steaming with geothermal vents that looked like cigarette smoke against the blue sky.
Siurad stood at the precipice, furrowing his brow as he looked down into the abyss.
“How the hell are we supposed to find a secret cult in all of that?” Siurad asked, kicking a pebble over the edge and watching it vanish. “And... is this thing active?.”
“C’mon, Shepherd,” Yona said, stepping dangerously close to the ledge with a smirk. “Don't tell me you're afraid of a little heat. Time to earn your keep.”
“This does seem... concerning,” Alexander murmured, peering nervously down at the rocky, vine-choked slopes. He pulled his collar away from his neck, fanning himself. “The humidity is oppressive. It feels... tropical. And sulphurous.”
“Quit whining,” Yona snapped, stretching her arms. “We slide down, crack a few skulls, find the intel, and we're out of here before a Langcha lays an egg. Besides...” She turned to Siurad, her amber eyes gleaming with the reflection of the sun. “It wouldn't be any fun if it was easy. Fun means loot.”
A hot gust of wind ripped over the ridge, flapping Alexander’s robes violently. He leaned against a gnarled tree, looking miserable.
“Heavens, woman,” the priest sighed. “Why can't we just do things the safe and legal way?”
“Pfft. If you wanted safe, you should have stayed with Guil,” Yona laughed, “And legal? Saint, you crack me up. Laws are just suggestions for poor people.”
“Okay, focus,” Siurad said, ignoring the banter. He scanned the dense canopy below, trying to assess threats. “We need a plan. We have to get down there, locate these creepy cultists, and avoid that demon thing all the while trying not to die. Which is easier said than done, considering that looks like a two-mile hike straight down.”
He groaned, rubbing his face. “I hate hiking. I hate the outdoors. Why am I doing this again?”
Suddenly, the Ring on his finger pulsed with a violent violet light.
'...YOUR HESITATION PERSISTS.'
“Welcome back, Obi,” Siurad muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion. “Top-notch timing, as always.”
'...DESCEND THIS FORSAKEN CREVICE. ROOT OUT THE VERMIN OF PERONIN. WE HAVE MUCH TO DO. YOU ARE THE CHOSEN HEIR MY INSTRUMENT FOR THE GREAT WORK THE.'
“Ack! Enough already!”
Yona clapped her hands over her ears, wincing in extreme irritation.
“Volume control, ring-boy!” she hissed at Siurad’s hand. “You’re giving me a migraine! I can hear you too, remember? Sensitive ears!”
“I am the only functional adult in this party,” Siurad thought, watching Yona balance precariously on the rim of the volcano.
The Ring pulsed instantly.
'...THE VESSEL CLAIMS ADULTHOOD, YET THE VESSEL WEEPS AT THE SIGHT OF A SPIDER.'
“Pussy,” Yona snickered, nudging him hard enough to rattle his plate mail. “Gods, I love that word. Told you I liked it. Now, move your ass, looks like there’s a path over there.”
The group shimmied toward a series of jagged, rhythmic indentations carved directly into the basalt wall. They weren't natural; someone had hacked a staircase into the cliff face centuries ago.
“Odd,” Alexander murmured, peering over the edge. “They look almost like stairs. Terrible, dangerous stairs.”
“What's the deal with this place anyway?” Siurad asked, gingerly testing his weight on the first slick step. “Who builds stairs into a volcano?”
“Not much is known,” Alexander said, placing a shaky boot onto the path and clinging to the rock wall. “This region is a political void. It borders Vildris and the Republic, but neither nation has ever been able to hold it. Between the active magma vents, history, and... well, the chaotic fauna... it is safe to say no one wants to live here.”
The pathway was narrow, steep, and covered in loose scree. The trek down was a slow, nerve-wracking process. They had made it halfway down, sweating through their armor, when Siurad froze.
A rush of wind buffeted them, smelling of sulfur and wet feathers.
A massive creature took flight from a gnarled tree jutting out of the cliff face. Its wingspan was easily seventeen feet wide, blotting out the sun for a brief second. It had beady, hateful eyes sunk deep into a narrow, naked skull.
To Siurad, it looked like a gigantic, prehistoric turkey had mated with a pterodactyl and then done a lot of steroids.
“What the fuck is that?” he whispered a statement of horror. “That thing... physically shouldn't be able to fly. The wings… the body… it's impossible.”
“Oh, those?” Alexander said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Those are actually quite common in the warm zones. Greater Vulture-Hens.”
'...NOW THE VESSEL FEARS POULTRY.'
“Shut up, Obi,” Siurad hissed.
The massive creature took off without so much as a backward glance. Its wings beat against the humid air with a sound like cracking sails, generating a pressure wave that rattled the leaves.
They watched the large frame recede into the distance, the shrinking shadow the only evidence that death had just hovered over them.
Siurad let out a long, ragged sigh of relief, his hand sliding off the hilt of his sword.
“Thank you, Mr. Vulture,” he muttered, grateful to have one less boss fight on his schedule. “Fly safe. Don't write.”
“Pu—” Yona started, a mischievous grin splitting her face.
“Don’t,” Siurad warned, cutting her off with a sharp wave of his hand.
“You’re no fun,” she snickered.
“This is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Alexander exclaimed, anxiously brushing volcanic dust and stray leaf matter from his pristine robes. “A haystack that is on fire. And filled with dinosaurs.”
“Let's get to the bottom before you start writing a eulogy, Saint,” Yona said. She slid down a steep incline of loose shale to a landing halfway down the caldera wall.
Siurad and Alexander followed with considerably less grace.
As they descended, the pathway widened. The jungle canopy grew thicker above them, blocking out the sun and turning the light a sickly, filtered green.
Siurad slowed as they passed a section of the cliff face that curved inward.
“Hold up,” he said.
The rock wall was covered in symbols that were painted in thick, jagged strokes using some kind of black charcoal or ash paste. The lines twisted and turned violently, like some alien form of cursive.
“Alex, do you have any idea what this stuff means?” Siurad asked, hovering his hand over a particularly sharp, angular spiral. “Is this related to Peronin?”
Alexander leaned in, his fear momentarily replaced by academic curiosity. He adjusted his glasses, squinting at the dark strokes.
“No...” Alexander murmured. “I have studied the dialects of Vildris, the Republic, and even the old tongues of the nomads. I have never seen this script before.”
“Is it runes?” Yona asked, poking a symbol with her dagger.
“Maybe,” Alexander said, his interest piqued. He reached into a hidden pouch within his robes and pulled out a small leather-bound pad and a charcoal stick. “Or it’s a cipher. Look at the repetition. It’s not random. It’s... mathematical.”
He began to quickly sketch the symbols, his hand moving with the practiced speed of a scribe.
“Whatever this language is,” Alexander whispered, “it is a very angry language.”
They continued their descent finally coming to the bottom of the caldera. They were surrounded by dense trees, bushes and foliage. Yona took the lead attempting to clear a navigable path.
As Alexander focused on studying the strange mathematical symbols, Yona suddenly froze.
She went rigid. Her amber eyes narrowed, looking through the gaps in the foliage, focusing on something deep in the shadows.
“Shhh. Quiet,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Something is up ahead. A lot of them. And they don't sound friendly.”
“Shit,” Siurad muttered.
Instinct took over. Siurad grabbed Alexander by the collar of his robes and dragged him behind the wide base of a mahogany tree. Yona dissolved into the shadows, taking up a position on an adjacent branch, her daggers already in hand.
They sat in silence for a few agonizing moments. There was nothing but the sway of the canopy above and the distant, nervous call of a bird.
Siurad was about to whisper a question when he heard it.
A low huff came from straight ahead. It was followed by a guttural growl. The sound vibrated in Siurad’s sternum and rattled down to the pit of his stomach. It sounded like the drone of a semi truck's engine brakes.
He leaned closer to the tree, trying to keep his voice lower than the wind.
“Yona,” he whispered. “What the fuck is that?”
“Shut up,” she hissed. She tapped her temple, looking at Siurad’s hand. She whispered something so softly Siurad could not hear.
A second later, Obi’s voice hammered into Siurad’s skull.
'...THE FOX THINKS IT IS AN URSAURUS AND SHE ALSO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN YOU WILL STOP ASKING HER INEFFICIENT ...'
Yona shook her head, staring daggers at Siurad from her perch as Obi continued.
'...STUPID QUESTIONS.'
Siurad blinked, the weight of the words hitting him. He really wanted to throw a pinecone at her, but he decided that provoking the stealth assassin while a monster was nearby was a tactical error.
Obi, Siurad projected his thoughts, what is an Ursaurus?
'...A BEAR-A-SAUR.'
Siurad stared blankly at Yona. She nodded slowly, her face grim, trying to convey the deadly seriousness of the situation.
Siurad was beside himself. They were currently cowering behind a tree because a T-Rex and Winnie the Pooh had apparently decided to have a bastard love child.
I hate this world, he thought.
Before he could process the biological impossibility of a Bear-a-saur, he saw movement in the distance.
The creature stepped out of the shadows, and Siurad’s brain tried to categorize it. Bear, his mind supplied. It’s a massive, mangy bear.
It had the silhouette of a grizzly, the hulking shoulder hump, the broad, blocky skull, the sheer wall of muscle. But as it moved into the shaft of sunlight, the image distorted.
It didn't lumber, so much as it stalked.
Its fur was a coat of coarse, wire-thick quills that rattled softly against each other, interspersed with patches of grey, pebbled scales. The snout was broad and ursine, but there were no lips, just a jagged zipper of interlocking, serrated teeth that grinned permanently in the gloom.
But the horror was in the legs. The rear legs were too long, powerful and digitigrade, ending not in paws, but in talon-tipped feet with a massive, curved sickle-claw raised off the ground. A thick, muscular tail swept behind it, twitching with calculated energy, acting as a counterbalance for a frame that looked like it could outrun a horse.
It turned its head, and the eyes weren't the small, beady eyes of a bear. They were large, gold, and slit-pupiled. They scanned the treeline with a terrifying, intelligence.
It let out a sound, a low, clicking chitter that escalated into a bass-heavy growl.
'...URSAURUS,' Obi supplied, helpful as a tombstone
“This ain't good, Big Guy.”
Yona’s voice was barely a whisper. The chaotic, greedy smirk that usually defined her face was gone, wiped clean by a pale, subtle terror. Her hands were wrapped around the pommels of her daggers with a death grip, her knuckles white.
“Can't be that bad, can it?” Siurad asked, keeping his tone hushed but trying to inject a little bravado.
The low growl stopped abruptly.
Silence hung in the heavy, humid air for a heartbeat. Then, a series of sharp, wet clicks emitted from the creature’s throat, a sound like stones striking together.
The massive Ursaurus turned and simply melted back into the heavy bush, its camouflage shifting with the shadows until it vanished.
“Well... that was something,” Siurad exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow.
Yona turned her head slowly, staring daggers at him.
“They know we are here,” she hissed, her eyes darting to the left, then the right. “And they hunt in packs. Shut up and let me think. That one didn't leave because it was scared. It left to get into flanking position.”
The gravity of the situation slowly started to dawn on Siurad. The humidity of the caldera suddenly felt suffocating. What he assumed would be a random encounter or a simple skirmish was quickly becoming a life-or-death situation.
“Okay, so we run?” Siurad asked, looking to Yona for the play-call.
“No.”
The correction didn't come from Yona. It came from Alexander. The priest was wiping his glasses frantically, his hands shaking.
“You must be unfamiliar with the physiology of the Ursaurus,” Alexander whispered, his voice trembling but factual. “They possess explosive speed. They are vastly faster than any of us. Running triggers their chase instinct. If we run, we are prey.”
'...COWARDICE WILL BEGET DEATH.'
The Ring pulsed violently on Siurad’s finger, the violet light throbbing with irritation at the party’s hesitation.
“We sit tight then?” Siurad asked, ignoring the burning sensation on his finger. “We turtle up? Watch the perimeter three-hundred and sixty degrees? Maybe they'll get bored and find something easier to murder.”
'...FOOLISH VESSEL, XARA CRUSHED ALL HER ENEMIES SHE DID NOT HIDE IN THE MUD.'
The psychic voice grew louder, dripping with disdain.
'...YOU COWER AT AN OVERSIZED RAT.'
Yona winced, pressing a hand to her temple, bypassing their usual game of telephone.
“DO NOT listen to the jewelry, Big Guy,” she snapped, her eyes scanning the tree line. “We wait it out. If we move, we die. If we run, we die. We stand our ground.”
They remained motionless for several agonizing moments, wincing at every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves. The humid air shifted, the earthy scent of rain and soil strangled by a heavy, cloying musk, rotting meat and wet fur. Yona’s knuckles turned white around the hilts of her daggers.
“Plan B,” she whispered, her voice tight. “I smell them. They’re close. Definitely more than one.”
Siurad slowly drew his blade, the steel hissing against leather. A rapid succession of low growls and chittering clicks rang out, echoing from the dense brush on all sides. They were being hunted.
Then, the world went unnaturally quiet.
Yona had enough of waiting. She sheathed one dagger and thrust her open palm toward a patch of darkness in the foliage.
“Glacial Barrage.”
A storm of ice shards erupted from her hand, shredding branches and bushes in a chaotic spray of green and white. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the brush exploded.
A massive monstrosity broke the tree line, a jagged shard of ice protruding from its shoulder. It ignored the wound entirely.
The beast moved with a terrifying speed that defied its bulk. Yona had no time to cast again; she threw herself into a desperate dive, slashing at the creature’s forearm as she passed. The blade connected, but the hide was like iron; her dagger left only a shallow, weeping gash. The charging Ursaurus twisted mid-stride, its jaws snapping inches from her boots. Its massive tail whipped around with the force of a falling tree, shattering saplings as it hunted for her.
Siurad braced himself, stepping forward to flank the beast, but a sudden shift in the air stopped him cold.
To his right, the undergrowth vanished. A second Ursaurus burst forth, a blur of muscle and teeth. Siurad raised his sword to guard, but the creature swatted at him.
The impact felt like a battering ram. The force traveled through his sword and shattered his stance, instantly numbing his arm and lifting him off his feet. He slammed into the trunk of an oak tree with a sickening crunch, his sword tumbling from his grasp into the mud. Air left his lungs in a wheezing gasp.
“Focus!” Yona screamed, barely dodging a swipe from the first beast. She thrust her hand forward, unleashing a point-blank burst of hellfire. The smell of singed hair and cooking flesh filled the clearing, and the Ursaurus roared, the sound vibrating in their chests.
It was a signal.
A third bear rocketed from the trees directly behind Yona’s exposed back. Its jaws stretched impossibly wide, aiming for her neck. She couldn’t turn in time.
“Prismatic Aegis!”
The shout came from Alexander. A shimmering white veil materialized around Yona, snapping into place a millisecond before the jaws clamped down. The barrier flared violently under the bite, spiderwebbing with cracks. The kinetic force sent Yona tumbling across the dirt, but the shield held just long enough before shattering into light.
Alexander spun from Yona to Siurad. The swordsman was on his knees, struggling to breathe, the second Ursaurus looming over him, raising a claw to finish the job.
“Shield your eyes and roll!” Alexander bellowed.
Siurad didn’t question. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw himself to the left.
“Divine Light!”
A sphere of blinding, searing radiance erupted from Alexander. It struck the looming bear directly in its sensitive eyes. The beast shrieked, a high-pitched, terrified sound, and reared up. Its tail whipped frantically, and it slashed blindly at the air, its talons carving through the space where Siurad’s head had been a second before.
Siurad scrambled backward through the mud, gasping as pain flared white-hot in his chest. His left arm hung uselessly at his side, the shoulder likely dislocated or shattered from the initial impact. He tried to stand, but his legs trembled violently.
The blinded Ursaurus didn't stay confused for long. It slammed its front paws down, shaking the earth, and sniffed the air. It locked onto the scent of Siurad’s blood.
'...THE PREY IS BROKEN,' Obi’s voice thundered, cold and analytical. '...COMPENSATE. USE THE SHADOWS.'
Siurad gritted his teeth, tasting copper. He didn't have the leverage to swing his sword effectively with one arm, not against this mountain of muscle.
He opened the void. Forming shadow spikes. Three jagged lances of solidified darkness erupted from the beast's own shadow. They pierced the creature's thigh and abdomen, driving deep.
The Ursaurus roared, but it didn't fall. The spikes, which would have skewered a normal man, only sank a few inches into the dense muscle and thick hide. It snapped the shadow constructs like dry twigs as it lunged forward, jaws snapping inches from Siurad’s face.
Pop.
Siurad vanished in a haze of black mist.
He reappeared ten feet in the air, directly above the beast. Gravity took hold immediately. He fell, driving his black steel sword down with all his remaining weight, aiming for the base of the skull.
CRACK.
The blade struck bone. It pierced the hide but wedged tight in the thick vertebrae. Siurad wrenched the hilt, screaming in effort, but the sword was stuck. The bear thrashed, throwing Siurad off its back. He hit the ground hard, rolling to avoid being crushed as the beast rampaged, the sword still sticking out of its neck like a splinter.
"It’s not dying!" Siurad yelled, coughing up blood.
"Duck!" Yona screamed from somewhere to his left.
The third bear, the one that had ambushed Yona, had bypassed her, seeing the easier prey. It barreled toward Siurad, a freight train of fur and claws. Siurad was on his knees, weaponless, his body screaming in protest. He couldn't dodge this.
"Hey! Over here!"
Alexander stepped into the path, halfway between Siurad and the charging monster. He looked terrified, his knees knocking together, but he raised his staff with both hands.
"You want a meal? Come get it!"
The bear obliged. It shifted targets, closing the distance to the priest in a heartbeat. It raised a paw the size of a manhole cover to flatten the fragile human.
" Prismatic Aegis! "
Alexander shouted the incantation, squeezing his eyes shut.
A multi-faceted dome of hard light materialized around him. The bear’s paw slammed into it with the force of a falling boulder. The shield groaned, spiderwebbing with cracks instantly, but it held. The force of the blow, however, wasn't negated. The sphere, with Alexander inside, was batted away like a toy ball. It flew through the air and smashed into a tree trunk, shattering on impact and dumping a dazed Alexander into the roots.
The bear shook its head and turned back to Siurad, confident the little nuisance was dealt with.
Siurad forced himself up. His vision blurred at the edges. He needed his sword.
'...THE WEAPON IS IMMATERIAL,' Obi whispered. '...YOU ARE THE VOID.'
Pop.
Siurad flickered out of existence a split second before the bear’s shoulder checked him. He reappeared instantly in the beast's blind spot, directly underneath it.
He slammed his good hand onto the soft, white fur of the creature's belly.
A massive spike of shadow erupted from his palm, not cutting the skin but manifesting partially within the beast's gut before solidifying. The Ursaurus stiffened, its momentum carrying it forward as it let out a gurgling howl. It crashed into the dirt, sliding past Siurad, clutching its stomach as internal trauma ravaged it.
Siurad didn't have time to celebrate. He turned to the second bear, the one with his sword in its neck. It had shaken off the disorientation and was lumbering toward him, blood matting its fur but its rage undimmed.
"I need... my sword," Siurad wheezed.
He prepared to Step again, but his legs gave out. The mana drain and the blood loss were too much. He hit one knee.
The bear opened its jaws.
Across the clearing, Yona’s fight ended ugly.
The first Ursaurus lunged it's smoking maw of burned fur, it’s jaws snapping for her waist. Yona dropped flat beneath the bite, rolled under its chest, and drove both daggers up into the soft hollow beneath its front leg.
The beast roared and tried to crush her.
She twisted the blades outward. The artery gave way, sending a heavy, scalding torrent down her arms. It coated her leather bracers and flooded her palms in a thick, warm slick, dangerously loosening her grip on the steel.
The Ursaurus staggered, its massive frame suddenly hollowed out and uncertain. Thrashing blindly, the creature swatted at Yona. The massive claws barely nicked her shoulder, but a hot flash of pain tore through her as a fresh line of red opened across her skin. Ignoring the sting, she kicked hard off its ribs and vanished into the shadows of its flank. She reappeared a heartbeat later, her right dagger roaring to life, coated in crackling hellfire. With one brutal, sweeping motion, she opened a smoldering gash across the side of its throat.
The beast roared in defiance, rearing up on its hind legs to strike. But the sheer loss of vitality was too much to overcome. Its knees buckled, and it collapsed with a heavy, wet crash, shaking the dirt hard enough to strip the dead leaves from the surrounding branches.
Yona came up breathing hard, hair stuck to her face, eyes wild.
Then she saw Siurad on one knee and the second Ursaurus bearing down on him.
She moved.
A blur of red, slammed into the side of the beast’s head. Yona grabbed the hilt of Siurad’s sword, which was still lodged in the bear's spine. With a feral snarl, she used the leverage of her jump to wrench the blade sideways.
There was a sickening snap.
The bear dropped like a stone, its spinal cord finally severed.
Yona landed in a crouch, panting heavily. Her armor was slashed in three places, and blood that wasn't hers soaked her hair.
"Clear!" she shouted, spinning around.
Siurad looked at the bear he had gutted with the Shadow Spike. It was still twitching, trying to rise, vomiting dark blood.
Siurad dragged himself over to it. He placed a boot on its neck to hold it steady, ignoring the agony in his own chest. He willed one last, small spike in his hand and drove it into the creature's eye.
The twitching stopped.
Silence fell over the clearing, save for the ragged breathing of the three companions.
Siurad tried to take a step toward Alexander and collapsed. The world tilted sideways and went gray.
"Siurad!" Alexander’s voice was weak, coming from the tree line.
"I'm... awake," Siurad mumbled, though he made no move to get up. He looked down at his left arm. It was bent at a wrong angle, and his side felt like it was on fire. "Think... something's broken."
Alexander limped into view. His robes were torn, and his glasses were missing, but he was alive. He hurried to Siurad’s side, his hands glowing with a soft, warm light.
"Don't move," Alexander stammered, his hands hovering over Siurad's chest. "Internal bleeding. Ribs are... oh dear. Just breathe."
The saint’s hand glowed with golden light.
"Check Yona," Siurad grunted, flinching as the magic knit flesh together with a stinging sensation.
"I'm fine," Yona said, walking over. She retrieved Siurad's sword from the dead bear and dropped it next to him. She looked at the carnage, three massive apex predators, their bodies turning the forest floor into a slaughterhouse.
She looked at Siurad, then at the massive internal wound on the second bear.
"You're getting scary, big guy," she said quietly.
"We need to move," Siurad whispered, grabbing his sword with his good hand. "All that noise, all this blood... it's a beacon."
"You can't walk," Alexander argued, sweat dripping from his nose as he focused on the healing spell.
"I can Void Step," Siurad lied. He tried to focus his mana, but the well was dry. His vision swam. "Okay. Maybe I can't."
'...RECOVERY REQUIRED,' Obi agreed, his voice fading into the background of Siurad's mind.