Traebus and Dusk hurried toward Sparky, following the excited trills that echoed across the black sand. When they reached him, they found the lightning-scaled lizard half-buried in the ground, claws digging frantically at the damp earth. Traebus'' eyes followed the disturbance, and then he saw it—a wreck of what had once been a boat, its skeletal remains barely clinging to existence.
The primitive vessel was in a terrible state, the wood rotted through with age and exposure to salt and sand. Much of its frame had collapsed, the remaining beams sticking out at odd angles like broken ribs. Any cloth or rope that had once been part of the boat was long gone, likely claimed by the ocean years ago. The shape was small, barely large enough to fit two people comfortably. It was primitive in design, nothing like the great ships Traebus had seen in his world.
Dusk sniffed at the remains, sending a faint impression of decay and disuse. No scent of recent activity. Whatever had once piloted this thing had been gone for a long time.
Traebus crouched beside it, running his fingers over the softened wood. “Well,” he muttered, “I guess it would’ve been too easy to find a nice, intact boat just waiting for us.” He sighed and tapped a knuckle against the frame. “Still, this means someone tried to leave, or maybe they arrived here like this.”
Sparky trilled and flicked his tail, sending a rapid series of mental images—other boats, big ships, floating things bobbing in the water. He clearly wanted to know if this was supposed to be what all boats looked like.
“No, this was a bad boat,” Traebus answered dryly. “I wouldn’t trust this thing to float in a bathtub, let alone an open sea.”
Dusk chuffed in amusement, but his frills twitched as he scanned the area again. He wasn’t convinced they had found everything yet.
“Alright, let’s spread out again,” Traebus instructed. “If there’s a boat, there might be more. Tools, supplies—hell, even another skeleton with something useful on it would be nice. Let’s see what else is buried here. However, after another hour of searching, they came up empty-handed. No tools, no supplies, nothing but the worn skeleton and the wreckage of the boat. If there had been anything of value, time and the elements had long since claimed it.
With a sigh, Traebus turned back to the skeleton. "Well, mystery friend, looks like you get a proper burial after all."
He dug a small grave near the shoreline, the black sand shifting easily beneath his hands as he worked. Sparky, for once, didn''t interfere, watching with unusual solemnity, while Dusk stood nearby, silent but present. When the hole was deep enough, Traebus carefully placed the bones inside, covering them once more with sand before standing back to regard the simple, unmarked grave.
"I don’t know who you were, or how you got here," he said quietly. "But I hope wherever you are now, it''s better than here. And if not, well… at least you don’t have to deal with giant spiders or lizards trying to eat you anymore. That’s gotta be an upgrade."
He dusted off his hands, exhaling. "Alright, let’s get what we can done before I get sentimental."
As he straightened up, Traebus took a long look at the surrounding jungle, his eyes scanning the dense foliage beyond the beach. There were plenty of large trees, thick and sturdy, their trunks stretching high into the sky. The sheer abundance of lumber gave him pause—he could use it for so many things. Reinforcements, tools, even furniture for the house back at the island. But a thought crept into his mind, unbidden and reckless.
"I could even build a boat," he murmured to himself, tilting his head as he entertained the idea. "Not a bad boat, like that one." He shot a glance at the wreckage with disdain. "A good boat. One that doesn’t immediately try to kill its passengers."
Dusk flicked an impression of deep skepticism.
"Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that," Traebus said, crossing his arms. "It’s not like I’ve never built something before. The bridge works, doesn’t it?"
Dusk let out a slow chuff, unimpressed.
"Fine, fine. Not now. But eventually," Traebus conceded. "A boat would open up a lot of possibilities, though. If there are more islands, I’d actually be able to reach them. Maybe find something other than murder lizards, giant spiders, and things that want to eat me."
Sparky flicked an image at him—one of a massive sea creature with far too many teeth.
Traebus groaned. "Right. Water monsters. Because of course this place has those. You guys really know how to ruin a man’s optimism, you know that?"
Dusk and Sparky both trilled in amusement, and with that, they turned back toward the jungle, ready to continue their exploration.
They spent the rest of the day thoroughly scouting the small, acre-sized seaside jungle, carefully examining every inch of the dense foliage. Traebus kept an eye out for anything useful—plants for food or medicine, unusual mineral deposits, or anything else that might help them survive long-term. The thick canopy above filtered the light into dappled shadows, giving the undergrowth a strange, shifting quality as they moved.
It wasn''t long before Traebus stumbled across a small deposit of obsidian, its glossy black shards jutting out from the base of a rocky outcrop like the jagged teeth of some buried beast. He knelt down, brushing away the dirt with his fingers, and let out a satisfied hum. "Well, hello there, you beautiful death glass. You''re going to be very useful."
Dusk flicked an impression of curiosity and mild approval, while Sparky, being Sparky, sent an image of himself triumphantly standing atop a mountain of obsidian blades, shooting lightning in all directions.
"Okay, no, we’re not making you an arsenal, Sparky. But good enthusiasm."
They continued their search, finding a few edible plants Traebus thought he could cultivate, as well as a sturdy vine that might be useful for crafting. The jungle was resource-rich, and despite the ever-present knowledge that something deadly could be lurking nearby, the day had been productive.
As the light began to wane, Traebus took a final look around. "Alright, I think we''ve got enough for today. Let’s haul this back and see what we can do with it."
With their bags slightly heavier and their minds buzzing with ideas, they turned back toward the bridge and their island home.
As they reached the base of the stairwell leading up to the bridge, Traebus paused, something catching his eye. Just off to the side, partially obscured by dense foliage, was a jagged outcropping of rock he hadn’t noticed before. He stepped closer, brushing aside thick vines and overgrown moss to reveal a dark, gaping entrance.
It was a cave.
His pulse quickened as he took a step back to take it all in. The overgrowth had almost completely concealed it, making it nearly invisible from any usual vantage point. It must have been here the whole time, yet he had never noticed it before. The sheer size of the entrance suggested it wasn’t just some shallow recess, either. This could be something significant.
Dusk rumbled low in his throat, stepping beside him as he flicked a cautious mental image—darkness, the unknown, the possibility of danger.
"Yeah, I know, buddy," Traebus muttered, narrowing his eyes at the cave mouth. "But we both know I''m going in there eventually. Might as well be sooner rather than later."
Sparky trilled in excitement, already eager to bolt ahead, but Traebus shot him a look. "Nope. We do this smart. We get some torches, some backup, and a whole lot of patience. Last thing I need is getting eaten by some nightmare that’s been hiding in there for centuries."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He exhaled sharply, his mind racing with possibilities. A cave could mean shelter, resources, maybe even something left behind by whoever had once called this place home. But it could also mean danger.
A lot of danger.
Traebus shook off the momentary apprehension and led Dusk and Sparky up the stairs to the house, eager to offload their haul. As they reached the top, the small lizards and Tank perked up, trilling excitedly at the sight of them. The little ones practically vibrated with curiosity as they caught wind of the scents clinging to the gathered materials.
Inside the storage building, Traebus began sorting their finds. He laid out the vines they had collected—thick, fibrous cords that could be braided into strong rope or used for binding tools together. Next, he carefully arranged the plants he had gathered, a mix of broad-leafed greens, a few stalky roots, and some strange, bulbous growths that oozed a faintly glowing sap when cut. The latter, he suspected, might have some alchemical properties worth testing.
Then came the obsidian—jagged, glossy black shards that glittered ominously in the dim light. Traebus turned a piece over in his hands, admiring its sharp edges. With proper shaping, this could be used for weapons, tools, or even reinforced runes. He set the shards on a separate shelf, making a mental note to carve some new blades later.
Tank loomed nearby, watching with a calm, patient presence, while the smaller lizards hopped around, occasionally snatching at the vines and making off with them like tiny thieves. Sparky, ever the show-off, took a piece of obsidian and flicked it into the air before catching it with his tail, trilling smugly.
Traebus sighed. "Yeah, yeah, you''re all very excited. But if any of you chew on something important, I swear I''m feeding you nothing but salted roots for a week."
Satisfied that everything was in its proper place, he dusted off his hands and stepped back. "Alright. We’ve got materials, some plants that may or may not kill me, and a whole lot of ideas. Now let’s figure out what’s next."
Traebus gathered samples of the plants they had collected and made his way to his workshop, where his salt identification table awaited. The ritual circle, still faintly inscribed from his last experiment, glowed softly as he placed the various plants in the center. With careful precision, he activated the circle, feeding a trickle of mana into the etched runes. The salt began to move, swirling outward before forming slow, deliberate words that described each plant’s properties.
The broad-leafed greens turned out to be highly fibrous, making them an excellent base for poultices. Mixed correctly, they could be used to bind wounds and slow bleeding. The stalky roots, gnarled and tough, had minor antiseptic properties—good for preventing infections when ground into a paste. The glowing sap from the bulbous plants was particularly interesting; the salt indicated it had a mild numbing effect, making it useful for pain relief, though an overdose could lead to temporary paralysis.
Traebus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, that’s not bad. Could be the start of a basic first aid kit. But what else?"
He continued placing each sample onto the salt table, watching as new words formed. Some of the vines they’d gathered were incredibly strong when dried and woven together, making them perfect for rope or bindings. Another plant exuded a thick resin that hardened into a waterproof coating—potentially useful for sealing tools, or even boats if he ever got that far.
The small lizards gathered at the edge of the workshop, trilling curiously as they watched the salt shift and spell out words. One of them, clearly impatient, flicked its tail and attempted to nudge a plant closer to the circle, as if eager to see more results.
Traebus smirked. "Alright, alright, let’s not rush it. Science—er, magic—takes time. And I’d rather not explode myself over a misplaced leaf. Again."
Traebus and the group settled in for the night, exhaustion from the day''s explorations settling deep in their bones. The stone house provided a solid, comforting barrier between them and the outside world, while Tank took up his usual position just outside the entrance. The small lizards curled up in a pile near the warmth of the firepit, and even Sparky, who had boundless energy, had finally stopped twitching and lay sprawled out near the doorway.
The night was quiet at first, the only sounds the rhythmic crashing of waves against the cliffs and the occasional rustling of nocturnal creatures moving through the underbrush. Traebus sighed, stretching out on his stone cot and letting his body sink into rest. For once, there were no immediate fires to put out, no enemies to fight, no ridiculous experiments to conduct. Just sleep.
Then Tank mooed.
The deep, reverberating sound sent a shudder through the ground, immediately snapping Traebus awake. He barely had time to process it before a series of loud, warbling honks echoed through the night, reverberating through the island like a chorus of angry geese from hell.
"What in the actual abyss?" Traebus groaned, fumbling upright as the lizards around him all jerked awake, eyes wide and alert.
Dusk’s frills flared in alarm, his body tensed for a fight. Sparky crackled with electricity, immediately ready to throw lightning at something, anything.
Tank let out another deep, grumbling moo, shifting his massive bulk in the dirt outside. More honks followed, growing louder and more distressed.
Traebus staggered toward the door, rubbing his face. "I swear, if it''s another thing trying to eat me, I''m moving to the damn moon." He shoved the heavy stone door open and stepped outside into the dim glow of the moonlit night.
What he saw made him blink.
A group of large, stocky, bird-like creatures stood just beyond the gatehouse, flapping their stubby wings and honking in loud distress. They had thick, rounded beaks and muscular legs, their bodies covered in fluffy down that made them look utterly ridiculous for creatures their size. They were somewhere between a giant goose and a prehistoric cassowary, only more rotund.
One of them let out an aggressive honk, flaring its wings at Tank, who simply stared at them with his usual unimpressed expression.
Dusk slinked up beside Traebus, his gaze fixated on the creatures. He flicked an image into Traebus’ mind—food.
Traebus groaned. "Of course you think that. I don’t even know what these things are yet! They could be dangerous."
As if in response, one of the oversized birds let out a piercing shriek and charged forward. It wasn’t charging at Traebus. It was charging at Tank.
And Tank, being Tank, simply turned his head slightly, snorted, and knocked the honking menace away with a single, effortless shove of his massive skull.
The bird rolled backward, flapping indignantly before righting itself with a furious honk.
Traebus rubbed his temples. "Great. Giant angry chickens. Just what I needed."
Dusk flicked another thought at him—still food.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it.
Trying to keep a safe distance, Traebus squinted into the moonlit gloom, attempting to figure out where in the abyss these feathery hooligans had come from. He stepped away from Tank, who was now glaring at the panting, thoroughly insulted bird he''d just knocked aside.
"Alright, who invited the killer geese from hell?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "And how did they even get up here?"
Dusk flicked his gaze to the cliff’s edge, sending a mental nudge of caution. A second later, several more of the honking creatures clambered over the side, their clawed feet scraping against the rock as they awkwardly hopped onto the plateau.
"Oh, fantastic." Traebus pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to groan dramatically. "We’ve got more inbound. Looks like they’re not the best climbers, but they’re persistent."
Sparky trilled a series of rapid images—pushing them back over the cliff, zapping them, maybe even eating them. Traebus shot him a weary glare. "Let’s not default to murder until we know if they’re actually dangerous... or, you know, if they’re packing more of a punch than just angry honks.
Just as he finished speaking, one particularly plump bird caught sight of Sparky, who was still half-asleep and blinking drowsily at the new arrivals. The bird’s eyes narrowed—if that was even possible—and it let out a piercing honk before charging straight for the unsuspecting lizard.
With a startled trill, Sparky sprang up, tiny arcs of lightning crackling off his scales. But before he could gather himself to zap the intruder, two more of the rotund birds joined the charge, their honks echoing in the night air. All three barreled toward him like a feathery battering ram.
“Uh—Sparky?” Traebus called, alarmed.
But Sparky had already decided that self-preservation took precedence over a glorious stand. He let out a panicked burst of sparks and bolted in the opposite direction, darting between clumps of grass and around Tank’s bulk. The birds, honking in furious unison, thundered after him as fast as their stout legs would allow.
What followed was a frantic, almost comedic chase scene. Sparky zigzagged around the plateau, squeaking each time a snapping beak got too close. The pursuing trio clumsily skidded through dirt and knocked into each other, forming a chaotic, honking huddle as they tried to keep up with the lightning lizard’s erratic path.
Traebus could only stare, torn between concern and the absurdity of the situation. Dusk, for his part, remained on high alert in case the birds turned their attention elsewhere, but even he couldn’t hide a faint wave of bemusement at Sparky’s misfortune.
“Try not to run off the cliff!” Traebus shouted after Sparky, half in warning, half in exasperation. The last thing he needed was an electrocuted lizard plummeting into the darkness below.
Sparky, continuing to squeal with indignation, made a sudden pivot around a small rocky outcrop, nearly colliding with Tank, who gave him a displeased snort. The birds, slower on the turn, slammed into each other in a flurry of feathers and offended squawks.
Traebus couldn’t help it—he laughed. “Alright, big guy,” he said to Tank, “mind giving our scaly friend a bit of cover?”
Tank let out a deep, unimpressed moo, but dutifully shifted to block the birds’ path. They squawked in dismay, flapping stubby wings, while Sparky used the opening to scurry back toward Traebus, panting and crackling with leftover adrenaline.
“Well,” Traebus muttered, eyebrows raised, “that’s one way to wake up.”