《Scalebound Sage Second Edition》
[1] Hatched
The inferno raged all around the man in a deadly dance of destruction. There amongst the hellscape was a reflection of chaos, his senses nearly overwhelmed by the haunting wailes of a kingdom¡¯s final death throes. Flames so tall they licked the heavens, scorching tongues reverberated with the cacophony only war could bring. A thousand screams, a thousand lives lost and a thousand more.
Blood pooled beneath his feet and painted his flickering shadow red. Each breath was a struggle to fill his lungs, every heartbeat a wave of paint. Yet despite the world growing colder even amongst the flames, despite his eyes growing heavier, he stood defiant. He was a monolith that refused to topple, a solitary pillar against the tide.
A sword sliced through him, stabbed him in the back and cut through his entrails. He spoke the words of power not to save himself, but to save those that cried out for a savior. His vision blurred, darkness encroaching on the edges of his consciousness. As the final syllable left his lips, the world seemed to pause, the fire''s roar muted.
Death.
***
The first sensation was warmth, then breath, then darkness as his eyes rolled open. Everything was muted, all sensations felt odd. That was when he noticed that he was confined in a small area. Everything in him told him he needed to move. He had to get out! He pushed at the walls with his arms and legs as hard as he could. Then with his tail¡ Wait tail?
I don¡¯t have a tail!
¡°What is going on? Someone help.¡± He wanted to speak but he found he could not talk.
His mind raced as he processed an appendage he shouldn¡¯t have, or at least he thought he shouldn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t know who he was, he didn¡¯t know why he was in this box¡ or was it a box? It was more an ovoid than cuboid. The walls of his prison were not stone, or wood or steel, or at least he thought so. He wasn¡¯t even sure how he knew what those words meant, only that what he was in was not that.
What am I, where am I? Why is it so hard to breathe all of a sudden? Wait, am I about to die?
Panic set in as he struggled to release himself as another sensation took hold. This one was more pressing and primal. Suffocation. If he did not get out he would die. He continued to kick and scratch and bite at the walls of his ovoid jail which would soon be his crypt. As he fought for his life it felt as though the walls were closing in on him. That was when he noticed it. A crack in the prison, a means of escape. It was so small he nearly missed it. He focused all his might into that one point until the crack widened and he saw light.
¡°You will not be killing me today,¡± he thought to himself in triumph.
He pressed his mouth against the crack and breathed. The air felt nice but his lungs burned as if it was their first time taking in the crisp substance. After taking in a few more breaths, he continued to claw at the crack until there was an opening barely large enough for him to see through. Despite not getting much done he was tired, his body wanting to rest and his muscles aching. Something in him told him he could not rest, he needed to get out. So he struggled to widen the hole until it was large enough for him to get his head and shoulders through.
¡°Finally I can get out of here,¡± he thought as he pushed his way into the light.
Triumph in freedom was short lived as the exhaustion finally took him, and he lay down still half inside his prison. Now at least he could see what he was trapped in.
His jaw fell open when he saw it was an egg, and from it came a long, slimy and scaly body. It didn¡¯t seem right, but was that his body? He was sure his body was different; somehow the scales seemed, well, new. He wondered how he could turn his head so far around, so he looked down to see his neck was long and serpentine.
¡°Am I a lizard? I thought I was something else. I think I was just born, but how do I know that if I am a lizard? Shouldn¡¯t I be all instinct and no thought? True Dragons are smart. Am I a True Dragon?¡± He looked back at his body, his long neck allowing him to examine what had so far escaped the egg. ¡°No wings, no dragon. Uhg, what is going on? Wasn¡¯t I just killed or something?¡±
He finally turned to look at his surroundings. He was on a circular platform a few inches off the ground in the middle of a bedroom. It was about four feet in diameter, and had arcane carvings arranged in a geometric shape all over it. His egg was placed in the center of the platform. The room itself was nothing special; just two beds, a study area and dressers. The floors were hardwood, and the walls were painted a baby blue. His spot seemed to be the most interesting out of everything he could see.
¡°How do I know what walls, hardwood floors or beds are?¡± he thought to himself. ¡°Wasn¡¯t I just born? Is it weird to know that? I mean I am the only newborn I know, and I know it, so I guess it is normal.¡±
A new voice said abruptly, ¡°Hello, sir. It would appear everything was a success.¡±
The lizard looked around for the source of the voice. He tried to speak but all that came from him were squawks and chirps. He tried again but no luck. The only sounds he could make were all unflattering squawks and chirps.
¡°I do not believe you will be able to speak in that form, Sir. Don¡¯t worry though; I am speaking directly into your mind and I can hear your thoughts,¡± the voice responded.
¡°Where are you? Who are you?¡± the lizard thought, mainly to see if the person could indeed hear it.
¡°I am the Reincarnation System you created before your untimely demise. You named me Failsafe. You have my deepest sympathies on your death, Sir.¡±
¡°Reincarnation?¡± the lizard asked mentally.
¡°Your rebirth failsafe. Hee-hee, I just realized why you must have named me Failsafe. I believe you may be experiencing memory loss due to these unforeseen developments. You were supposed to reincarnate into a sentient humanoid race.¡±
¡°Wait, Failsafe, who am I?¡± the lizard asked. ¡°What am I?¡±
¡°I am unsure, Sir.¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°My main function is to restore your reincarnated mind and spirit back to how it was, but the amount of magic you possess in your current form is limiting my capabilities and memories as well. It must be another unforeseen happenstance due to the fact you are now a uh¡ baby long neck lizard thing, and not a human or some such race. I will run a diagnostic; please wait.¡± Failsafe was only gone for a moment before he spoke again. ¡°Ah, I see. In your current form you are wayyy less magically apt than you were at time of death.¡±
The lizard cut him off. ¡°What does that mean for me and my memory?¡±
¡°You need to gain magical strength equivalent to your previous self for me to access your memories and share them with you. I will develop a system that will aid in displaying your progress to that state. We can even set milestones for certain levels of strength,¡± Failsafe said, sounding excited at the prospect. ¡°I will need to get more information on your current capabilities first. So we can add to it as we go.¡±
¡°Uhuh¡ So what do you need?¡± the lizard asked.
¡°Right now nothing, Sir. You are exhausted from being born-uh hatched, so, I will see how long it takes you to recover,¡± Failsafe said.
¡°Do you really not know anything about who I was or how I died?¡± the lizard questioned.
¡°All I know is that you were human before, and my creator,¡± Failsafe admitted. ¡°I am not even sure what you looked like, but you were powerful. That I know for sure.¡±
¡°Well that doesn¡¯t help much,¡± the lizard said. ¡°Maybe the best thing to do is just look around. Let''s see if I can get used to these limbs.¡±
Despite what he said, he ended up not being able to move. His strength had all but left him. The most he could do was kick at the shell that still covered half his body, freeing the last of his form. He found his body to be more dog-like than that of a lizard, aside from his neck, which was long and snake-like. His front arms, or legs, whatever they¡¯re called anatomically, had dexterous fingers. Not as adept as human hands, but they were capable of some manipulation. His hind legs, all lean muscle, looked powerful. His tail was longer than his entire body, making him look almost like a snake.
If not for the long neck he would assume he was some type of drake. He wasn¡¯t a dragon nor was he a normal lizard. With his current memory he didn¡¯t recognize what he was. Failsafe didn¡¯t know either, so there was no point in questioning it. He pushed himself back into his egg, which seemed safer than just laying on the table. Drained of all of his strength, he laid his head back down and closed his eyes.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
***
He woke up to Failsafe buzzing in his head. He yawned, which came out as a chitter and a tongue flare. The movement seemed rather natural. That led him to think maybe he was a chimera of some kind; it would explain the odd body. If he was someone''s science project to combine a snake and a drake it would give him some interesting abilities. His thoughts were interrupted by the continuous buzzing in his head, so he decided to turn his attention to Failsafe.
¡°I have completed your analysis,¡± Failsafe said, his voice full of pride. ¡°Until we know what you are and what you are capable of some places are blank, buuut,¡± he held the last word for a while and paused for suspense. ¡°Ta-daa, look at this.¡±
A square menu appeared in the lizard''s vision, causing him to jolt awake. It was magic. Somehow he recognized the sensation and understood that only he would be able to see this. It was a mental projection, but he didn¡¯t know how he knew that. He wanted to understand how it worked and how Failsafe managed to do this without it taking what little mana he had. He was so intrigued it took nearly five minutes before he even looked at the words.
Name: ???
Species: Unknown
Level: 0.01
Vitality: 1
Restoration:1
Constitution: 1
Strength: 1
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 1
Magic: 1
Magic Regeneration: 2
Page 1 of 2
¡°Well, good job but what is that level?¡± the lizard asked.
¡°Ah, so while I don¡¯t know much about who you were, I have a good feeling about how powerful you were,¡± Failsafe said cheerily. ¡°So I divided that hypothetical magical strength into 500 milestones. I didn¡¯t like how milestone sounded, so I called them levels instead.¡± He started to sound less confident. ¡°You know, it is like you¡¯re¡ I don¡¯t know, rising up. You know, leveling up¡ on a new level of power.¡± He paused. ¡°I mean it sounded better in my head but now that I am saying it out loud¡¡± He coughed nervously. ¡°I can change it, it-its not set in stone or anything.¡±
¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant, it¡¯s fine,¡± the lizard assured him. ¡°I just didn¡¯t know what the term meant in this context. So essentially according to your gut feeling, which is all I have to go on, I am about, hmmm, lets see¡ 0.002 percent as powerful as I was when I died. Huh.¡±
¡°W-well, yeah but I was trying to make it sound nicer,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°Did you take a look at the second page yet?¡±
¡°No, I was getting to it. First, why out of five hundred instead of one hundred?¡±
¡°Well by my calculation, at each level you should gain enough magical energy for me to access more of your locked memories. So, each level requires twice the power of the previous to unlock. It doesn¡¯t mean you would be twice as strong though. You can think of it as an unrefined resource being turned into a key and opening the next stage. The unlocking of the memories is the main reason for the number of levels.¡±
¡°Are the other statistics like magic and vitality based off of the 500 rule?¡± the lizard asked.
¡°No, those don¡¯t technically have a limit, just kind of a general observation,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°Ignore them for now. I need more observation data and something to compare you to. But you know what I don''t need more data for? Page two. You should look at it.¡±
¡°Okay-okay.¡±
Skills Analysis
Reincarnation Failsafe
An incomplete reincarnation magic construct and your best friend that has your back no matter what!
Venomous Bite
Magic Cost: 0
You have a neurotoxic venom which can be injected through a bite with your fangs.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
You can mix your venom into the air using magic, creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside the area. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal overtime.
Mysterious Magic Connection
Magic Cost: -1?
You are connected to an outside entity which is feeding you power. More study needed.
Page 2 of 2
¡°Skills, does that mean what I think it does?¡± the lizard asked.
Failsafe said with pride, ¡°Yep, in fact©`¡±
Failsafe was cut off by the sound of someone entering the room. Everything seemed to stop for a moment as what sounded like two girls chatting in an unfamiliar language drew closer. Then without warning a high pitched squeal rang out. If it was of excitement or terror, the lizard did not know. He peeked his head from the now sizable hole in his egg. Staring back at him were two faces, both flush with excitement. They spoke with one another, still staring at him, until one quickly dashed out of the room.
Something about the girl that stayed resonated with the lizard. It was something the lizard could not quite place. An aura, an attraction¡ no, it was more like an arcane compulsion. Something about the girl''s presence felt right. It was like he was supposed to be near her, protect her, befriend her, even raise her as his own daughter.
It was odd to feel such a strong paternal instinct towards a stranger. For some reason in her presence he felt stronger and less tired. He had so much renewed energy that he uncurled from his hiding spot in the egg and started to emerge. The girl held out her hand, a smile stretched across her face.
The girl seemed to only grow more excited as the lizard drew closer, stumbling over himself a few times as his muscles adjusted to carrying his weight. He didn¡¯t notice before, but he didn¡¯t know what the girl¡¯s race was. She looked humanoid, sure, but not quite human. She had a human face; young with brown skin and three large freckles under each eye. The reflection of her large circular glasses almost hid inviting eyes whose color was only slightly lighter than her skin tone. Her hair was raven black. Most striking were her antlers, a feature humans most certainly did not share. They were small and barely peeked out of her hair, but something told the lizard they were going to grow as she aged.
¡°Bjorn,¡± the girl said as if calling him by name. ¡°Bjorn.¡±
Somehow the lizard knew that this was his new name. As he reached the girl he stretched out his paw curiously. The girl took his paw, then suddenly wrapped herself around him in an embrace, tears rolling down her face. He was startled at first and tried to escape by kicking at her but when he realized she wasn¡¯t hurting him he calmed down. She did this while saying something in the language he did not understand.
¡°Soooo, don¡¯t want to interrupt, but I think I know what that Mysterious Magic Connection is now,¡± Failsafe said in Bjorn¡¯s mind. ¡°It would appear you are a familiar and you just received a name, so, congratulations? Bjorn?¡±
¡°We will go with that name for now. It¡¯s not like I can remember my actual name. Can you understand them?¡± Bjorn asked mentally.
¡°I will after I hear them talk for maybe an hour or two,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°I got a few words down so far but not enough to translate anything meaningful. Good news though, the magic connection between you two seems to be rejuvenating you at an accelerated rate. The familiar contract you are under is symbiotic.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°You two are connected through a magical link,¡± Failsafe stated, obviously proud of his deduction skills. ¡°That link shares magic between you. Her magic is stabilized and amplified by being around you, while at the same time you get a steady supply of that new excess mana.¡±
The girl finally stopped crying and picked Bjorn up by the armpits. She held him in the air for a moment, spinning around before placing him back on the ground and sitting down beside him. Now that Bjorn had a human-ish girl to compare to, he was about the height of a medium sized dog, but a lot longer because of his serpent neck and prehensile tail.
The room was larger than he thought it was from his egg. The beds shared a common space between them that had a small coffee table. There were books under the beds and the girl had an insignia on her uniform with a coat of arms. Bjorn assumed that this was a dorm for a school given the girls ages and similar outfits. He didn¡¯t know how he knew what a dorm was but it was the least of his concerns.
He took the opportunity to look around and get used to his new legs, now that he was strong enough to walk thanks to the girl. Walking on all fours felt right but at the same time different. Every few seconds he flicked his tongue, which he realized was automatic. He noticed that he could literally taste the world around him, including magic. Now that was unexpected.
The horned girl watched him closely and prevented him from crawling under the beds by pulling him away anytime he tried. She also prevented him from getting too close to the door to what he assumed was a hallway. He could taste the presence of many different people and magics coming from under the door which made him want to explore even more.
Then he tasted something wholly unlike anything else. A savory flavor that brought attention to how hungry he was. It didn¡¯t take long before the first girl returned with a plate of meat cut into small chunks and a young man that looked to be about the same age as the girls. They were all around sixteen or seventeen. Most interestingly, the two newcomers were human, fully human. The boy''s blue eyes were striking, as if he could see into the soul, and the girl had a mane of red locks with tribal beads and feathers. They stopped at the doorway when they saw Bjorn walking about. While Bjorn could not understand them, he could literally taste their concern.
As the group conversed, he noticed they didn¡¯t walk any closer. The girl he was bonded to was called Freja by the human girl, who in turn was called Julie. The boy was called Mat. It appeared Freja had to demonstrate that Bjorn wasn¡¯t going to bite them by picking him up again, which he offered no resistance to as he simply wanted the meat Julie was carrying. She placed him back on the platform near his egg. It wasn¡¯t until Bjorn tried to step off the platform that the runes and symbols carved on it started to glow. A barrier of light prevented him from stepping off without Freja¡¯s assistance. Mat and Julie finally entered, and Julie presented the grilled meat for Bjorn to eat.
[2] Dorsehal Academy
Freja woke up excited to see how her familiar was doing. She barely got any sleep, she wanted to spend every waking moment the previous night with him or her? She still needed to complete the blood test to determine what sex Bjorn was. There were actually a lot of unknowns. She had no idea what the small creature¡¯s species was, but he seemed docile and readily accepted the bond so she couldn¡¯t be happier.
Normally she wouldn¡¯t have been able to perform the summoning and binding. In fact, without her friends and the dorm mother vouching for her she would have never been permitted to try. Without Mat she would have never succeeded in the summoning. Her magical ability was below even the most average wizard. If not for the fact she had the kiss of magic at all she would have been¡ well she tried not to think about that too often. Her family had already banished her from home so what is the worst they could do now?
She practically flipped out of the bed, grabbed her glasses and skipped over to her familiar. She had to be quiet since Julie was still asleep. Bjorn was curled up in the containment field near his egg. He was also asleep so she squatted down next to the barrier and tapped it with her finger. The barrier went through a sequence of colors. First blue, indicating the familiar bond was stable and strong. Then green which meant Bjorn was healthy and comfortable. This type of containment doubled as an incubator so it was warmer and more humid inside.
The last one was the warning color which for Bjorn was purple. It meant he was venomous and if he bit her she would most likely die. It is normal for young animals to use way more venom than they needed. Some of them are not good at controlling the venom glands until they are a little older. As long as the bond was in place Bjorn shouldn¡¯t attack her unless she is hostile first. Julie and Mat scolded her yesterday for taking him out of the containment. She was thoroughly reminded that new proto-bonds fail all the time and overconfident mages die because of it.
¡°He is so cute though.¡± Freja said to herself. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly.¡±
Freja sighed as she looked at Bjorn¡¯s wingless back and her jovial expression fell. There was movement behind her and saw Julie sitting up in bed stretching out with a yawn that sounded more like a squeal. She rubbed her tired green eyes. Which slowly focused on Freja who was squatted down in her underwear.
¡°Freja, what are you doing?¡± Julie asked as she rubbed the last bit of sleep from her eyes. ¡°You aren¡¯t taking him out again are you? What did we say about that?¡±
Freja and Julie had always been morning people. They woke up at the same time everyday without fail and without any need for an alarm.
¡°I know-I know. Don¡¯t worry he is still in the containment and still asleep.¡± Freja said as she put her hands up in defeat.
¡°Good. The last thing we need is for you to get bit or something.¡± Julie said. ¡°Or get me bit!¡±
¡°He¡¯s not going to bite anyone. Come over here, look at ¡®em he¡¯s adorable.¡±
Julie sighed and got out of bed. She walked over to the containment and looked at the sleeping form of the lizard. As his back rose and fell it sounded almost like he was purring. Freja saw the ends of Julie lips curl upward and immediately pointed at her with an excusatory expression.
¡°See!¡± Freja whisper-screamed.
¡°I didn¡¯t say he wasn¡¯t cute.¡± Julie said, a little flushed in the cheeks. ¡°Just that he was dangerous. Now, let¡¯s get dressed. I don¡¯t want to be late for the breakfast hall. He will be here when we get back.¡±
¡°Maybe I should stay here for the day,¡± Freja said.
¡°Ms. Dimii is here and she will take care of him. You know the professors are not going to let you take a day off just because your familiar hatched,¡± Julie said.
¡°He might need me though.¡± Freja pouted.
¡°He is fine, what did the containment barrier show you?¡± Julie asked.
¡°That he¡¯s fine.¡± Freja stood up and crossed her arms.
***
The two girls quickly got dressed, which was fairly simple when they have to wear the same uniform everyday. Black cardigan and skirt with a white button-up dress shirt and tie. There was little freedom in their choice of outfit but Freja liked to accessorize with bracelets and bangles. Julie, on the other hand, held onto her heritage with multicolored beads and feathered hair accessories that swayed gently with each step, talismans of luck from her homeland.
Lastly but certainly not least were their wands. Freja¡¯s wand was faded wood with a leather wrapping for a handle. There was a weak magic pulse from deep within the magic median. This was the same beginner¡¯s wand she had wielded since childhood, a relic that her family had long expected her to outgrow. Each time she looked at it, a pang of embarrassment twisted in her chest. She made a leather case for it which would attach to her belt but hide the entire wand from view. Julie never asked about it but it wasn¡¯t like in the four years they had known each other she hadn¡¯t found out.
Freja''s gaze drifted to Julie¡¯s wand, a stark contrast to her own. It was a magnificent tool, crafted from twisted wood as red as Julie¡¯s fiery hair. The wand seemed almost alive, its magic humming in perfect harmony with its wielder. Julie¡¯s magic flowed into the wand effortlessly, refined and potent, as if the wand itself was an extension of her will. Freja quickly turned her eyes away, a flush of envy creeping up her neck. The last thing she wanted was for Julie to catch her staring.
¡°Okay let¡¯s go! We still have to meet with Mat.¡± Julie said, her voice light and cheerful.
¡°I¡¯m coming. Bye Bjorn baby.¡± Freja said to the sleeping familiar.
Freja grabbed her bag, making sure the wand case was securely fastened at her side, and followed Julie out the door. As they walked down the hallway, the familiar routine of the morning gave her a small measure of comfort, even as the quiet insecurity gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder when¡ªif ever¡ªshe would be able to wield a wand that resonated with her as effortlessly as Julie¡¯s did with her. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside. There were more pressing matters to attend to, and Julie¡¯s infectious energy was hard to resist.
***
The halls were alive with the hum of morning chatter, young girls gossiping and exchanging the latest news as they bustled out of the dorms in the typical morning rush. Freja moved through the crowd with Julie by her side, but there was a noticeable distance between them and the others. While the hallway was packed with students, it was as if an invisible barrier surrounded Freja, creating a buffer that kept most of the other girls at arm¡¯s length. Aside from Julie and Mat, people didn¡¯t get close to her. She was used to it, she was, after all, the daughter of the noble family that owned the domain and academy. There were always wary glances pointed her way which made her tense up.
They didn¡¯t see the dorm mother, Ms. Dimii in the mad chaos of the morning. They would have time later to catch up with her and ask about Bjorn since she took care of young familiars when they were left alone in the dorm. She was a nature mage with a specialty in taming and highly knowledgeable in healing magic. Even knowing all that Freja still wanted to stay just in case.
The courtyard outside of the girls dormitory held a small garden which was maintained to perfection by magic runes hidden beneath the soil. Freja inhaled deeply, letting the tranquility of the garden ease her nerves. The campus stretched out beyond the courtyard, vast and sprawling, home to over a thousand young minds, each one brimming with potential.
Before classes started everyone rushed to the dining hall for breakfast. Getting there late meant waiting in long lines and rushing to class. As they approached, they spotted Mat waiting for them just outside, flanked by a couple of his guy friends. The moment the girls appeared, the boys exchanged knowing looks and smirks before sauntering off, but not without some good-natured teasing.
¡°Hey, Mat! Better watch out, or people will start calling you a player,¡± one of them called over his shoulder with a grin.
¡°It¡¯s not like that, guys,¡± Mat called after them, shaking his head in exasperation.
¡°Not like what?¡± Julie quipped with a playful smirk. ¡°You get to hang out with gorgeous ladies like us; they¡¯re just jealous¡±
Mat chuckled, though a slight blush crept into his cheeks. Mat, like Julie, was human, but he was taller than the two girls. Unlike them he carried a staff which was required for his specialization in evocation magic. It is common knowledge amongst the magic world that a lot can be said about a mage by the quality of their staff or wand in whatever form it takes. Mat was nobility like Freja but he was from one of the human kingdoms that bordered Yuhia.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
¡°Jealous, huh?¡± Mat grinned as they fell into step beside him. ¡°More like terrified of you, Julie. Remember what you did during the magic exam last week? But hey, if you¡¯re okay with people thinking I¡¯m a player, who am I to argue?¡±
¡°They said use your most powerful spell and he survived!¡± Julie said with a dismissive huff. ¡°A healing potion or two and he was as healthy as a yadie in a pond¡ and¨Cand I apologized.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think the apology was the problem.¡± Mat responded.
His staff was a reflection of his skill, it was dark wood that emanated a sense of elegance. It was tall, six feet end to end and topped with a perfect wooden circle made from twisted wood that braided into itself. Inside this circle, a second, smaller wooden ring floats, held in place by invisible, magical tethers, maintaining flawless balance. A metal wrapped around the handle area mimics the wood''s natural texture. The craftsmanship, while notable, reflects its purpose as a student¡¯s tool: reliable and sturdy, but not exceptional.
The friends met up and Freja excitedly told Mat every detail she could remember about Bjorn. She nearly choked on a breakfast sausage while talking animatedly about Bjorn¡¯s cute paws. Mat wasn¡¯t as inclined with reptiles as Freja or Julie but he did hide that fact in his smile. He was more enamored with the girl telling the story than the content. It was because of that Julie let him sit in the middle between her and Freja.
¡°Mat.¡± Julie whispered out of Freja¡¯s earshot while nudging him in the side. ¡°Geez, could you be more obvious? You need to tell her, this is just getting sad.¡±
Mat tensed and his cheeks blossomed into an embarrassed pink as he turned from Freja to Julie. He looked as if she exposed his biggest secret. She just rolled her eyes and pointed at Freja who was still recounting stories of Bjorn completely unaware of the statement. Mat visibly relaxed but shot Julie a death-glare.
¡°After class today we can go to the library and see if we can find out what he is.¡± Mat said, to push the conversation along. ¡°I am sure there are a couple of bestiaries we can look through.¡±
¡°That sounds like a great idea. He should be from around here right?¡± Freja asked.
Mat was the biggest contributor to the creation of the summoning ritual Freja used to summon Bjorn¡¯s egg. As a student evocation mage he had a better handle on building out rituals and magic diagrams. He was the only evocation specialization mage in the academy because it was a rare specialization.
¡°The summoning ritual would only bring something from the continent but it could be from anywhere.¡± Mat said, while in deep contemplation as if doing some internal math. ¡°Yuhia, the Force Isles, any of the dwarven kingdoms or even as far out as the Land of the Djinn.¡±
¡°I want to go to the Land of The Djinn some day.¡± Julie said. ¡°I heard that they can grant wishes if you save them from peril or show them magic they have never seen before. Could you imagine if I became queen of Mesha, or even a princess would be pretty cool.¡±
¡°Then you would have to learn all of the politics too.¡± Freja said.
Julia¡¯s face turned sour as she breathed in sharply from clenched teeth. ¡°Oh¡ yeah you¡¯re right. You know what, I would just wish for ten-thousand platinum coins and my family would never have to work again. I could travel with a small army through any of the corrupted lands and see the world!¡±
¡°Too bad djinns don¡¯t work that way.¡± Mat said.
¡°Aww, come on don¡¯t ruin it for me!¡± Julie pouted. ¡°How would you even know?¡±
¡°You have met a few djinn¡¯s already. We all have.¡± Freja said.
¡°W-wait what? When, who?¡± Julie asked.
¡°Professor Zafir is a djinn.¡± Mat said matter of fact. ¡°Wait-wait did you not know that he was a djinn this whole time? Red skin, three eyes and can make himself intangible. He is even the professor of foreign magic studies.¡±
Julie¡¯s mouth hung open for a minute. ¡°I thought he was a triclops or something. Wait does that mean that¨C¡±
¡°Yep, Rashid and Layla are both djinn¡¯s too.¡± Freja said.
¡°Well, that doesn¡¯t mean they can¡¯t grant wishes.¡± Julie said as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. ¡°All we need is to save one of them from peril. Like what is the likelihood I could save them from falling off a cliff or something?¡±
¡°Don¡¯t push anyone off a cliff, Julie.¡± Freja said in an exasperated tone.
¡°What? I would never?¡± Julie said completely unconvincingly. ¡°Besides there aren¡¯t any cliffs around here that¡ I know about. Then again it would probably work with a bridge too.¡±
¡°Julie.¡± Freja admonished.
¡°Yeah-yeah, no pushing professors off of a bridge. I know mom.¡± Julie said with a groan.
¡°Anyway,¡± Mat said to get the girls back on track. ¡°We don¡¯t know where he came from but there are plenty of books on draconic and serpentine creatures we can read through.¡±
***
¡°It may be quaint but it is important that everyone here understands where they are in their studies.¡± Professor Zafir addressed the class. ¡°Everyone in my class is here because they have shown magical aptitude that places them above those that are magically inept.¡± His three eyes scanned the room and landed on Freja for the briefest moment longer than the others. ¡°Well most people in my class have shown that aptitude.
¡°Magic is an innate gift you are born with and in the same vein you either have the talent to utilize it or you don''t. At the bottom are the magicless¡ªpeople devoid of magic even within their core. These individuals, sadly, contribute nothing to the advancement of magic aside from being the occasional test subject. Next we have the wizard which is the most pedestrian of magic users. They can perform simple spells but anything more is an uphill battle. They would be lucky to master even basic spell forms on their own within any discipline.¡±
Freja shrunk back in her seat as the professor continued. She could feel not only his gaze, but also other students'' eyes fell on her a few times during the explanation of wizards. Her magic was not at the level of a mage which was the minimum requirement to be in the class. The only reason she was permitted entry was because she was a Salstar. Her family owned the domain and everything in it including the academy. She was a failure in a long legacy of prodigies and everyone knew it and Zafir hated her for it.
The djinn man was a bright shade of red closer to the sheen of a perfectly ripe tomato than a natural skin tone. His hair and clothing flowed in the air as if he were moving through water. He stood at his podium in front of the fifty students in the tiered classroom. His eyes twinkled as he moved onto the next magic caster in the list.
¡°Mages, this is where we see true potential.¡± Zafir made a grand show of the word by opening his arms wide. ¡°Mages have the affinity for a magical discipline. Nature, Starlight, Darkness, Elemental, Spellcraft and the all too rare Anti-Magic. All of you have the potential to ascend to the highest echelons of your specialties. As a mage you represent the pinnacle of learned magic, a true testament to what can be achieved with real talent and perseverance.
¡°Even with that being said there is always a limit to what even a mage can accomplish.¡± Zafir had a wide grin across his face. ¡°However, where mages fall short, sorcerers excel. Their power is not learned but innate, a raw, untamed force that sets them apart from all other magic users. Sorcery, granted by a True or stemming from a sage¡¯s might, is unparalleled in its uniqueness and strength. Sorcerers are the true aristocracy of the world much like the Royal family here in Yuhia.¡±
¡°What about arcanists,¡± a young elf girl asked.
Zafir pressed his lips into a thin line. ¡°Ah, yes how could I have forgotten. Some people consider them to be magic casters. They are not even fit to be called such. They are magicless that have derived their power through pacts of servitude and slavehood through patrons. They are mere vessels for another¡¯s power.¡±
¡°And sages?¡± Mat asked this time.
¡°Excellent question, Master Mat. Sages are surrounded in myths and legend although the truth of the matter is that they were the creators of magic disciplines. Each of them were magical geniuses that advanced the study and exploration of magic for all of us. While tales of their magical exploits such as doing the impossible in mastering multiple disciplines or having a unique core may have been exaggerated. Their legacy is their undeniable contribution to magic.¡±
After the lecture from Zafir the group would have to split up to go to their next classes. Normally it would be their magic specialty class. Mat would go to the spellcraft class for his invocation magic and Julia to her elemental class for her geomancy. Freja on the other hand did not have a specialty. So she spent the time in the alchemy lab as an assistant. It was usually her favorite part of the day. Today however, what she wanted most was to finally get to the library then back to her dorm room with Bjorn.
***
The end of the school day could not come any faster. Freja and her friends met up at the library to finally find any information they could on Bjorn¡¯s species. The Grand Library of Dorsehal Academy was one of the largest buildings on campus. From the outside even the colossal double doors looked intimidating. There was a hum in the air picked up by magical senses. It was the perfect resonance of hundreds of enchantments protecting the tomes inside.
Freja¡¯s group stepped inside, the air filled with the heady aroma of aged parchment.The space seemed all the larger from the inside as the towering bookshelves spread out in all directions and even ascended several mezzanine levels. The space was illuminated by the soft, ethereal glow of floating crystal orbs that drift lazily beneath the arched, vaulted ceiling. A ceiling that was a masterpiece of architectural design unto itself. It was adorned with detailed frescoes depicting battles, the creation of magical artifacts, and the ascension of the powerful Royal Family of Yuhia.
The group immediately went to find one of the archivists who would point them in the direction of the bestiaries. Three levels up and on the west wing. It was there that the real battle to discover what Bjorn was could finally begin. They chose a table and stacked any books classifying draconic and serpentine magic beasts and animals. Given the sheer amount of material they would have to look through them by region.
¡°What is the chances he is actually some kind of bird and his feathers just haven¡¯t come in yet?¡± Julie asked as she pulled an avian book off the shelf. ¡°There are those weird raptor things down south.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know if those are birds.¡± Mat said as he sat down and opened a book of his own. ¡°I think they are draconic, maybe even just reptiles.¡±
¡°They can¡¯t be reptiles, Mat.¡± Julia said with a snort. ¡°They have feathers.¡±
¡°There are dragons with feathers.¡± Mat said.
¡°If Bjorn is a male he would probably have beautifully colorful feathers when he matures. If he is related to them.¡± Freja said.
¡°That sounds a lot like the kobolds around the Force Isles. Some of them are really colorful.¡± Mat said. ¡°Those are the ones you have to watchout for.¡±
[3] Social Decorum
The light of Bjorn¡¯s third day as uh, whatever he was, started with a squeal of excitement as Freja watched his eyes slowly flutter open. She was watching him from her desk at the far end of the room. Bjorn knew the girl was completely enamored with him by how much attention she gave him. His body was still in extremely early stages of development so he spent more time asleep than awake the past few days.
Julie was dressed but in a casual orange summer dress and a big floppy straw hat instead of the school uniform. She was saying something to Freja but he still couldn¡¯t understand the language. Failsafe had underestimated how long it would take him to be able to translate. Unfortunately, the girls were either gone most of the day or Bjorn was asleep so he didn¡¯t have much time to learn it. The magic construct claimed throughout the night he would make a new magic spellform that would allow him to understand it in real time. Reading, on the other hand, was something he would have to learn the old fashion way.
Julie left the room with a wave leaving Bjorn and Freja alone. He stood up and proceeded to stretch when he noticed Freja had walked over to him. She was wearing the same thing she normally did; a black vest over a white dress shirt, black and white striped tie, and a skirt. She walked to the door and poked her head out suspiciously. She returned with a smile and picked him up, and he noticed the barrier that kept him from leaving the platform dissipated. He could taste the magic in the air, and given enough time he was confident he could identify what exactly was being used to make the barrier. He expected Freja to put him back down, but instead she tiptoed back to the door as if Julie would catch her if she made too much noise.
The hallway was mainly empty aside from a few girls entering their dorm room. It was Bjorn¡¯s first time being able to leave the room and he was excited to learn more about his surroundings. He coughed as the spicy scent of cinnamon incense assaulted his greatly enhanced senses. The dorm had an oddly sterile look; no pictures or plants, no colors beside the natural hues of the wooden floors and brick walls. The only break from the bland look came from the intermittent doors to other dorm rooms.
She froze in place when she noticed that there was an older woman waiting for them right as the hall opened up into the second floor mezzanine of a grand lobby. Freja quickly turned around to avoid being caught but jumped when the woman called her name, and after a brief exchange Freja turned back around revealing Bjorn. The woman''s eyes flew open, a mix of surprise and worry flooded her gaze.
She was a halfling, a full head shorter than Freja, with a motherly demeanor. She called Freja over and waited as the girl reluctantly marched over like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar. The two talked for a few minutes; the woman pointed at Bjorn a few times, especially at his mouth and back. Bjorn wished he knew what they were saying, but could only shrug off the talks.
¡°Hey, Failsafe, you got that translation thing done yet?¡± Bjorn asked mentally.
¡°Almost. I just need a bit longer. I¡¯m trying to optimize it as much as possible given your low magic ability,¡± Failsafe responded promptly.
Bjorn sighed. ¡°Well, can you tell me what they¡¯re talking about?¡±
¡°Sure thing,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°The halfling woman¡¯s name is Dimii. She¡¯s trying to figure out what you are. She thought you might be a dragon, but no wings, so that was out. She is also upset Freja took you out of the containment field. I am assuming that¡¯s the platform in Freja¡¯s room. Apparently you¡¯re supposed to stay in it for a few days to ensure you don¡¯t reject the bond and attack her. She is reminding her that you are venomous and carrying you is dangerous.¡±
It suddenly made a lot more sense why Julie and Mat didn¡¯t want to come into the room while he was free. A bonded familiar could reject the bond, and then be no different from any other wild animal. The fact no one seemed to know what he was meant Freja was taking a big risk to her life. While he had no intention of harming her, if he was a wild animal one bite and his venom could kill her.
¡°So, I could reject it?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Yes, you could cut the connection if you focused on it hard enough,¡± Failsafe stated. ¡°Oh, now the woman has told Freja that her father is on the way to see her, and she should stay at the dorm today.¡±
As Failsafe spoke Bjorn could taste fear in the air. He looked up at Freja; she seemed neutral but her body was giving off a strong sense of dread. He felt her arms tense up around him but she quickly stopped herself once she realized she was squeezing him. Something wasn¡¯t right, why would she be afraid that her father was coming to see her? Family troubles seemed likely.
After the two talked for a few more minutes, several girls around Freja¡¯s age slowly made their way up the stairs to the second level. They were wearing the same uniform as Freja, and none of them were human. He saw an elf, a fey and a cynocephali, along with another of Freja¡¯s race. They all had bookbags on their backs, and a staff in hand or a wand at their side.
When they saw Freja with Bjorn, he noticed they seemed to take a longer path around to avoid them. At the same time Freja noticeably avoided eye contact and shrunk in her demeanor. Bjorn could taste fear, embarrassment, and anxiety as the girl shrank. The halfling woman noticed, and said something that of course Bjorn could not understand, but it seemed to help Freja somewhat.
¡°It is weird not having any context to what is going on.¡± Bjorn said.
¡°I don¡¯t have any either but with all of these people talking it is helping me put things together much faster.¡± Failsafe said.
***
Everyone was inside of Ms. Dimii¡¯s office on the ground floor which turned out to be rather cozy. Stone walls were covered in paintings of various scenes; the front gate of the academy, flowers and other serene images. Had Bjorn been paying attention he would have seen Freja¡¯s eyes focus on the portrait of a man. His skin as dark as the night sky and antlers that grew in wide branches covered in gold. Shelves made up nearly all other space on the wall and were filled with ancient tomes, potion vials, and curious trinkets collected over the years.
Bjorn could taste the magic before he saw the protective runes that shimmered softly like a flickering candle. He hadn¡¯t noticed it before but the effects of this rune permeated the entire dormitory. A large wooden desk made up the majority of the space, its surface a messy clutter at first glance but there was a visible pattern to the chaos that even Bjorn picked up on after a second glance.
Freja was made to sit in one of the finely carved wooden chairs that was cushioned with plush velvet. She held Bjorn in her lap and stroked his back gently. All the while the two women had been talking while Ms. Dimii was looking for something in the drawers of a cabinet. Failsafe again had to approximate what they were saying.
The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°So, Ms. Dimii thinks that your bond with Freja is strong enough for you to be out of containment.¡± Failsafe said in Bjorn¡¯s head.
¡°That¡¯s good right?¡± Bjorn said.
¡°Yeah but she is still worried you are going to bite other people even if it is just exploratory biting.¡± Failsafe said.
¡°Exploratory biting? Like a child putting things in their mouth to see what is or is not food?¡± Bjorn questioned.
¡°Yep, but exploratory biting would be deadly if you did it.¡± Failsafe said.
Ms. Dimii found what she was looking for, which turned out to be a muzzle. She handed it to Freja who secured it onto his face. Bjorn didn¡¯t resist it. The last thing he wanted was to be seen as dangerous while he was still so weak, especially when going along with them may lead to answers he couldn¡¯t find on his own as, whatever he is. In fact as far as lives go, while he would have preferred to be a human, being a familiar in a school was a better option to than being a wild animal.
After speaking to Dimii, Freja was permitted to take Bjorn out of the dorm. Bjorn felt his animal instincts fully come to life the moment he could feel the unimpeded sun rays against his scales. A myriad of new tastes, and sensation flooded him as Freja set him on the ground in the courtyard. There was a garden in the wide space between buildings which Freja let Bjorn freely explore.
The feeling of earth beneath his feet for the first time was a grounding experience. Everything had felt surreal up until that point. Some small part of Bjorn, or rather whoever he was before he became Bjorn, hadn¡¯t accepted that he was alive or that he was no longer human. That part of him had to accept it, with the sun on his face and the dirt beneath his feet, he could not deny what he was. He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that; he wasn¡¯t sad, but there was something pitted in his stomach that he couldn¡¯t identify.
¡°I really am not human anymore, am I?¡± Bjorn said morosely.
¡°No, you aren¡¯t.¡± Failsafe responded.
***
Bjorn¡¯s exploration ended when Freja called his name and she led him across the campus. The academy was almost overwhelming to his sensitive magic perception. His tongue flicks tasted the vast weaves of magic that impregnated the air like an invisible mist. Brick buildings hummed with ancient magics, people carried auras infused with magic aspects as they walked. Even the bricks that made the walkways were subtly enchanted.
Students of all shapes and sizes bustled about, their casual wear caused a riot of colors, fabrics and cultural style, save for the occasional sleek black school uniform like what Freja wore. He noticed that there was a flavor to different races auras.
Elves'' aura was light and ethereal, while the goblins were earthy and humble. The fay had an intoxicating mix of wild nature, the halflings exuded a homey comfort, and the dog-headed cynocephali had a sharp musk. Human¡¯s scent and magic was oddly proud and self centered. Even so, the most distressing was the scent of Freja¡¯s race, the antlered people¡¯s aura tasted domineering and predatory. It was as if everything and everyone was theirs to control and consume.
The adventure came to an end at a large building not much different than any other they had seen. Freja picked Bjorn up when they went in and it didn¡¯t take long for him to see why. Inside was full of other people and their familiars. Most of the people with familiars were Freja¡¯s race but there was a small smattering of humans and elves.
Freja checked them in and after a few minutes they were called to what Bjorn best described as a physical check-up. They drew blood, and milked him for his venom to test. Failsafe was happy to announce when they discovered from his blood that he was in fact officially a male. Unfortunately, even the mage that officiated all of the tests didn¡¯t know what his species was according to Failsafe¡¯s translations. They guessed a poison drake hybrid or something from outside of Yuhia.
***
When they arrived back at Freja¡¯s dorm room she took off Bjorn¡¯s muzzle. Since Julie was already gone she allowed him to freely walk around the space. As with the day before he found the space to be rather barren; there were two desks, wardrobes and beds but not much else. Freja sat at her desk while Bjorn jumped up onto her bed to see what she was doing.
Freja was working with an alchemy set and some dried ingredients. She had a notebook and several textbooks open while, with some difficulty, she used her magic to ignite a flare jewel that served as the ignition for a Bunsen burner. She worked diligently on something, occasionally looking over at him, especially as he jumped on and off the bed to get used to his new body and find the best way to jump.
Once she finished whatever she was working on, she put out the flare jewel, though it took her a few attempts. She picked Bjorn up and placed him back on the containment platform, then grabbed her book and sat down next to him, where she spent the next two hours reading aloud to him. Bjorn just listened, despite not understanding a word. He had nothing better to do anyway; Failsafe was working on the new framework, and he didn¡¯t want to distract him with questions and updates. He didn¡¯t really understand what Failsafe even was. Judging by the description Failsafe wrote about himself in the Skills Analysis, he was some type of sentient spell. Bjorn felt like he should know what that meant, like it was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn¡¯t quite put it together.
¡°... He is accredited as the ¡®Wandweaver Extraordinaire¡¯, and it is thanks to his lifelong pursuit of magical knowledge and his refinement of magical wandmaking techniques that mages today can craft spells with the use of a wand,¡± Freja read, which caused Bjorn to jump up in surprise. Which in turn caused her to stop. ¡°Are you okay Bjorn? I didn¡¯t startle you, did I, baby?¡± She pet his head.
Failsafe celebrated. ¡°Heck yeah, guess who just solved one-way interspecies communication magic? Come on guess-guess.¡±
¡°Uh, you?¡± Bjorn said mentally.
¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Failsafe said proudly. ¡°Not only that, but it uses ambient magic, meaning you won¡¯t even have to worry about it draining you.¡±
Bjorn immediately tried to talk out loud but all that came out were the usual squawks.
¡°You hungry, baby?¡± Freja asked as she stood up. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±
¡°I thought you figured this out?¡± Bjorn thought frustratedly. ¡°Why am I still squeaking?¡±
¡°It is one-way,¡± Failsafe stated matter of factly. ¡°The translation is happening in your head. You can¡¯t speak, that would be sound magic or something.¡±
As Freja reached for the door, it suddenly swung open with a foreboding creak. The taste of air which was stale with the natural ambient mana of the building immediately thickened. There was an acrid taste of anger, disappointment and disgust which caused Bjorn to immediately snap his head around in alarm. He could also taste Freja¡¯s sharp terror, which cut his nerves like a knife.
On the other side of the door was a man who stood as a monolith of power. Bjorn nearly gagged when he tasted the man¡¯s aura, a confusing mixture of pure light and inexorable death. Bjorn always tasted the dominating nature of Freja¡¯s race¡¯s aura but with him it was as if he were domination given form. His antlers, adorned with rings and jewels, seemed to gleam with the tide of his magic. His skin was as dark as a starless midnight, only broken up by the blood-red suit and long shoulder cape emblazoned with the crest of a dragon.
Authority and mana flowed from the man like a relentless typhoon, which pressed down only on Freja with a palpable weight. This was a display of dominance not a physical nor a magical attack. The man masterfully manipulated the mana in the air. If one could not defend against it, then it would make the person feel vulnerable and under pressure as if they were standing before a superior. It was considered rude and even an insult, but the man at the door seemed utterly indifferent to social decorum.
¡°Fath¡¡± Freja began, her voice trembling before she quickly bowed her head. ¡°I mean Lord Salstar. It is an honor that you have come to see me.¡±
Lord Salstar¡¯s voice was deep and impassive, resonating with an unsettling calm. ¡°Where is it, girl?¡±
Freja noticeably paled, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Right this way, Lord.¡±
[4] Failure of The Salstars
Freja felt as though she might faint as she turned from the door. She had to clasp her hands together to stop from shaking, her eyes glistened from unshed tears. The last time she saw him was four years ago when he sent her here to exile her from family affairs. The transition wasn¡¯t pleasant nor easy as she was all but ostracized from everyone she had ever known.
The man, her father, Lord Ulfar Salstar, walked up to the containment that held Bjorn. With every step his anger rose. His lips pressed into a thin line, jaw clenched and his brow furrowed as his gaze locked onto Bjorn. Without warning, he spun around and struck Freja across the face with an open palm. The blow sent her collapsing to the ground, blood trickling from her nose. His aura flowed from him which caused the light to bend towards him in a beautiful kaleidoscopic and unnatural way. It was as if everything bent towards him to the point he was all that was in the room that mattered.
¡°What is this¨Cthis thing? You have brought even more shame to my house,¡± Lord Salstar said, his voice uncomfortably calm for how angry he appeared to be. ¡°Are you trying to embarrass us, Freja? I gave you strict instructions: keep your head down, do not speak my name, and do not embarrass the Salstar name. We are dragonkeepers! For generations our family has only summoned and tamed the mightiest of all beasts.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°And you¡ªyou failure¡ªnot only have the audacity to be a pathetic wizard, the only one in our family lineage, but now this?¡± He pointed to Bjorn, his contempt searing.
Freja, still on the ground, could barely meet his gaze. The oppressive atmosphere, laden with her father''s anger and disdain, pressed down on her. Bjorn clawed at the barrier keeping him contained. He tried everything in his power to help Freja, but all he could do was claw and hiss, which of course accomplished nothing. He could not believe that the man would come here just to belittle her. Everything in Bjorn just made him want to see just how effective his venom was on that man.
Freja cried. ¡°I¡¯m sorr¡ª¡±
A wand appeared in Lord Salstar¡¯s hand, it was made from black metal and inscribed with golden runes. With a single flick of his wrist, his magic wove masterfully into a complex array, producing a chantless spell. In an instant a ring of soft light formed around Freja¡¯s neck, choking her. It lifted her from the ground to her knees then slowly rose higher until she had to stand on the tips of her toes to keep from being hanged. Her eyes widened in sheer terror, her hands clawing desperately at the magical noose, trying to gasp for breath that would not come. Her face turned a shade of purple, her vision blurring as she teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
¡°I don¡¯t want to hear your excuses, I am sick of them,¡± Lord Salstar stated coldly. ¡°Pack your bag; you have thirty minutes, do not make me wait.¡±
The Lord dismissed the magic and Freja fell to her knees, coughing and gasping for air.
¡°There is too much at stake for us to keep a failure like you. Helga could have kept you as her pet. She had a pension for mercy that I do not share.¡± Lord Salstar watched Freja squirm on the ground. ¡°You know what we are, you know what the Salstar name means. We are the Sword and Shield of Yuhia, but what could you protect? What could you conquer? Tell me?¡±
¡°But I have gotten stronger, father.¡± Freja coughed.
¡°What use is the strength of a fly to me? Wizard, failure, that is what you are known as, that is the filth that has dirtied our name. Your magic hasn¡¯t improved in the four years you¡¯ve been here, and your sister isn¡¯t around to defend you anymore. Pathetic.¡±
The man turned as his wand floated back into its case at his side. He looked at the hissing Bjorn with equal disdain and hatred. He walked to the door, which opened under his magical manipulations. Julie, standing outside, bowed her head. Obviously terrified of the man, she stammered out a greeting. Lord Salstar didn¡¯t even acknowledge her before continuing on his way. As soon as he was out of sight, Julie rushed into the room, checking on Freja, who was still struggling to breathe and trembling from the ordeal.
¡°Freja, are you okay? You''re bleeding,¡± Julie said as she knelt down beside the coughing girl. ¡°I¡¯ll go get a healer or Ms. Dimii.¡±
¡°No-no don¡¯t do that,¡± Freja said as she grabbed Julie with a shaky hand. ¡°I-I have to pack. I¡¯ll be¡ªI¡¯ll be fine.¡±
¡°No, what in the Infernal Planes are you talking about? Are you serious? Where are you going? Not with that evil Divine¡¯s damned noble hopefully,¡± Julie said as she helped Freja up to sit her on her bed. ¡°He can¡¯t treat you like this just because you¡¯re a wizard. We can get the authorities or something.¡±
Freja shook her head as she slammed her hand into her thigh. ¡°And they will do what? Arrest him, the Lord? No offense but I don¡¯t know if a human would understand. It is just¡ how things work here. Just leave me alone. I need to pack.¡±
¡°Me being a human has nothing to do with this! He just attacked his daughter. That is not alright. You don¡¯t have to¡ª¡±
¡°Yes I do, Julie!¡± Freja yelled, then took a long breath and wiped her tears and blood. ¡°Yes, I do.¡±
Freja stood up and pulled her wand from a cylindrical hoster on her waist. The wand was a gnarled piece of faded wood that could be easily mistaken for a kindling if not for the rather comfortable leather grip. She spoke the words of power to call forth two wisps in the shape of hands. A beginner level wind spell would usually create substantial hands of wind that could interact with the world. Freja¡¯s wind hands, however, looked weak and could not move quickly without winking out. She used the hands to quietly gather her things.
¡°Here let me help.¡± Julie said.
Julie summoned hands of her own, however due to her geokinetic magic they were made from rock and earth. It wasn¡¯t real rock but a magic construct that simulated the real thing. She was sure to continue her slurry of insults towards Lord Salstar. Some of which were quite creative, and others couldn¡¯t be translated yet as Failsafe didn¡¯t know what they meant. It took only five minutes for Freja and Julie to pack the meager amount of belongings the girl possessed. Most of this time was spent carefully packing up her alchemy equipment. The wind hand carried her books, while she had a single bag full of her clothing and other nicknacks.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°I can¡¯t believe this is happening,¡± Julie muttered, her voice shaking with a mix of rage and helplessness. ¡°He has no right to take you away from here.¡±
¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, Julie. He¡¯s my father. I have to go.¡± Freja said.
¡°Freja, please, there has to be another way.¡±
¡°There isn¡¯t. This is my life, my family. Thank you for everything. You and Mat have been the best friends I could ever ask for.¡±
Julie swallowed hard, nodding. ¡°We¡¯ll always be here for you, Freja. Always.¡±
¡°Are you ready to go, baby?¡± Freja asked as she picked up Bjorn. ¡°Guess you aren¡¯t going to be able to meet the rest of my friends after all.¡±
¡°Is it safe to carry him like that?¡± Julie asked, apprehensive to get any closer. ¡°The containment did tell us he¡¯s venomous you know.¡±
¡°Bjorn is a good boy, he wouldn¡¯t bite anyone. Would you baby?¡± Freja asked while nuzzling Bjorn.
Bjorn let out an affirmative squawk. He didn¡¯t notice before, but while she held him he could feel the faintest flow of mana coursing through her muscles. She was augmenting her strength with mana in order to carry him, which made sense as she was a pretty petite girl. His tail still dragged on the ground so he wrapped it around her waist, which could help with the weight distribution.
***
The lobby was full of girls staring out into the courtyard; more and more seemed to be rushing down the stairs to see what was going on. Whispers of admiration for Lord Ulfar Salstar and the noble family spread out amongst the students, especially those of Freja¡¯s race. At the top of the stairs to the main lobby Miss Dimii was ordering the girls not to do anything that would embarrass the academy. As soon as she caught sight of Freja and Julie carrying bags she hurried over to them.
¡°What is going on, Freja?¡± Dimii asked, she then saw the swelling presenting itself on her cheek. ¡°By the Divines, are you okay?¡± A gentle blue glow surrounded her hand as she touched Freja¡¯s swollen face. ¡°There.¡±
Healing magic coursed into Freja and the swelling quickly subsided.
¡°Looks like I have to go,¡± Freja responded as Ms. Dimii finished her healing. ¡°Thanks for looking after me these four years.¡±
¡°Oh sweet baby.¡± Ms. Dimii did her best to hug Freja. ¡°Everything is going to be alright.¡±
¡°Thank you.¡± Freja said.
Dimii opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a panting boy who inserted himself into their space.
¡°Freja, Julie, what is going on, why is Lord Salstar here?¡± Mat asked, trying to catch his breath. ¡°Are those bags?¡±
¡°It was horrible what that man did.¡± Julie said.
¡°It looks like I¡¯m leaving,¡± Freja said, choking back sadness. ¡°Lord Salstar came to take me back home I guess.¡±
¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to go,¡± Julie said.
¡°But you just summoned your familiar, why would he take you now?¡± Mat asked as his eyes darted between Freja and Julie. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what he is yet. Speaking of, is it safe to carry him around like that?¡±
Freja sighed. ¡°Bjorn is fine and I don¡¯t know why Lord Salstar chose now to get me. Probably because my sister¡¯s¡¡±
¡°Oh. Yeah, didn¡¯t mean to bring that up,¡± Mat said with a frown, scratching his head. ¡°But she died a few years ago, why now?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know but,¡± Freja said. She tried to smile but couldn¡¯t. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine though, I¡¯m just going back home for a while it seems.¡±
¡°That is the Lady? Wow, she is so pretty.¡± Someone down stairs said. ¡°Let me get a better look! Woah!¡±
A crash downstairs pulled Dimii¡¯s attention, and she had to deal with a student that apparently tried to get a better view by standing on top of a coffee table. The trio was quiet for a few seconds, each of them struggling to figure out what to say next. Julie then stepped up, placing the case she was carrying on the ground; it was the one with all of Freja¡¯s alchemy equipment. Julie grabbed Mat¡¯s hand and Freja¡¯s shoulder, since Freja¡¯s hands were full with Bjorn.
¡°It¡¯s not like this is goodbye, guys,¡± the red headed girl said. ¡°If you are ever in the Mesha Kingdom come see me. I may not be from nobility or whatever, but my family knows how to cook up a feast. Also, Mat has a crush on you.¡±
Mat and Freja both perked up at the last statement. Their eyes locked for a second before they both averted eye contact.
Mat stammered, ¡°Wha-Wh-what?¡± His eyes locked onto Freja, cheeks turning nearly as red as Julie''s hair. ¡°Well I¡ you see uh.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°If you''re ever in the Force Isles you''re always welcome.¡±
¡°Oh¡ That is kind of you,¡± Freja said. ¡°The invite I mean. Both of you. Thanks.¡±
The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and lingering dread. Freja clutched Bjorn tighter like he was the air she needed to breathe, the strength to push forward despite her misgivings. Bjorn flicked his tongue, tasting the air, sensing the mingled emotions of sorrow, fear, and unexpressed affection.
Julie squeezed Freja¡¯s shoulder one last time before stepping back. ¡°Take care of yourself, Freja. And Bjorn too.¡±
Mat hesitated but looked to have come to a decision, he stepped forward, awkwardly patting Bjorn on the head which surprised everyone. ¡°Yeah, take care. And remember, if you ever need us, we¡¯re just a letter away.¡± He stepped forward and hugged Freja.
Freja nodded, her eyes misting with tears she refused to shed. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you both so much.¡±
***
The crowd parted as Freja and her friends made their way to the door. She was the daughter of the Lord and Lady but also a disgrace to their noble lineage. The murmurs and curious glances from the students heightened her sense of unease. She always tried to keep her head down as instructed but now she had to stand firm. She stopped at the open doors and could finally see the reason for the gathering. Two imposing figures stood clad in red beside a massive lesser red dragon.
Her father, Lord Ulfar Salstar, loomed with his dark, imposing presence. But it was her mother, Lady Ingrid Salstar, who drew the most attention. Ingrid''s white skin seemed to glow, an almost ethereal, ageless beauty that stood in stark contrast to her husband''s midnight darkness. Her antlers were adorned with delicate flowers and ribbons that fluttered softly in the breeze, creating an otherworldly aura around her.
The dragon, Thrand, Lord Salstar¡¯s familiar, was equally formidable. Its scales shimmered with an ominous crimson, and a large enclosed carrier on its back had enough room for twenty people to sit or stand comfortably. The sight of the dragon, combined with her parents'' presence, cast a heavy pall over the courtyard. Freja knew something was wrong. Both of them here told a grim story for her future.
Freja steeled herself with a deep breath and squeezed Bjorn a little tighter. The familiar warmth of his scales provided scant comfort. Freja made the mistake of meeting Ingrid¡¯s gaze. Her eyes, though beautiful, held a coldness that sent a shiver down Freja¡¯s spine. Lord Ulfar¡¯s expression was unreadable, his eyes shimmered with his magic. There was no parental love in either of their eyes, only disdain. They didn¡¯t see her as a daughter, they barely saw her at all.
[5] Shai
Bjorn and Freja swallowed hard as they saw the scene before them. The courtyard was full of spectators, all of whom were collectively holding their breath at the scene before them. Many of them were not Freja¡¯s race and this would have been their first time seeing a dragon. They would have heard rumors of course but few outsiders believed anyone could tame the draconic creatures. Yet there it was, in the middle of the courtyard stood Thrand, the massive lesser red dragon, alongside Lord Ulfar and Lady Ingrid Salstar, the nobleman and woman who ruled this domain.
Thrand¡¯s presence was overwhelming. The air seemed to shimmer in heat waves around his crimson scales and Bjorn could taste the unrelenting power that if unleashed could raze a city. Thrand was large, his size dominated the space, dwarfing everything around him. There was a garden where he had landed but he spilled out into walkways towering over the roofs of even the dormitories. The bricks beneath his feet were crushed into dust by his sheer weight despite being magically reinforced.
As Thrand exhaled, plumes of smoke curled from his nostrils. The temperature seemed to rise with every passing moment. There was a primal fear that landed on anyone that crossed the dragon''s gaze. It was an instinctual recognition that before them was a predator and to it, they were all prey.
Freja took her first shaky step out of the dormitory. Julie grabbed Freja¡¯s wrist, spun her around, and gave her a long emotional hug. She reached out and dragged Mat into the embrace as well.
¡°Be sure to send a letter to me and Mat,¡± Julie said as the trio released. ¡°And don¡¯t let that ass hat get his way. Promise me you¡¯ll be alright.¡±
¡°I promise. As soon as I can, you will hear from me,¡± Freja stated.
Freja¡¯s Wind Hands, which had been dutifully following with her books, also took the bag Julie had been carrying. She turned and approached her parents. When she was just a few feet away a figure jumped from the dragon''s back. He landed with surprising grace despite the large fall. The boy looked at Freja with a self-satisfied grin. He was a few inches shorter than Freja, but was a spitting image of Lord Salstar if he was many years younger. That was to be expected as he was the Lord¡¯s only son and Freja¡¯s younger brother; Ragnar. The boy had on a blue suit to his fathers red, and instead of a wand he wielded a staff with a large orb at its end.
¡°Ah, sister dear, it is nice to see you again,¡± Ragnar said with a vicious smile. ¡°I heard you successfully summoned your familiar.¡±
The boy sounded like he was reading from a script and Bjorn could not help but notice how staged everything seemed to be. There was something going on and Bjorn liked it less and less with each passing moment.
Freja stopped in front of Ragnar and bowed her head. ¡°Master Ragnar, the pleasure is all mine.¡±
Bjorn got the sense that Freja knew what was going on. She tensed up and Bjorn could taste the fear and shame in the air. Ragnar seemed to be displeased in Freja¡¯s response as if he was prepared for a different outcome. Bjorn got the feeling that Ragnar was prepared for Freja to stand up to him and was disappointed she didn¡¯t. He turned around and looked at his mother for guidance, she nodded and he turned back around to face his sister.
Ragnar''s smile vanished. ¡°What is with the formalities, sister? Oh, let me guess, you heard I am next in line to take over as head after dad since big sister, Helga, is no longer with us.¡± He paused for a dramatic over-acted flare. ¡°You know what that means, right, Shai? Don¡¯t worry, we are siblings, please, let me see your dragon. Of course as a member of the Salstar family you summoned a dragon.¡± His performance seemed to have reached the zenith as he paced around Freja, eyeing her up and down. ¡°I mean it would be a complete shame and dishonor that a Salstar would even attempt to summon anything else, right?¡± He pretended like he just noticed Bjorn. ¡°Oh, what is this little ugly thing? Don¡¯t tell me you disobeyed father.¡±
¡°His name is Bjorn,¡± Freja whispered.
Ragnar grabbed Freja by her antlers and threw her to the ground in front of their father and mother. Freja had to hold onto a hissing Bjorn, who was eager to fight in her defense. The Lord and Lady stood impassively, their expressions neutral and unreadable. However, Bjorn could taste their pride; they had been planning this for a while.
¡°I am sorry, what was that,¡± Ragnar yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t talk back to me, you''re a failure. From today on you are a Shai and I have taken the right to be an heir from you! The Forest Father blesses those who are his true children and I am blest, the Salstars are blest, but you are a blight that does not belong. I will show you what a real Salstar should be able to summon.¡± He snapped. ¡°Vilja, here.¡±
There was an electrified rush of wind as a new presence announced itself. A shadow rose into the sky from Thrands back then turned and twisted in the air. A dragon pup flew down, her sleek form cut through the winds with effortless grace despite her young age. The performance did what it was supposed to as a new silence fell on the courtyard. Everyone was transfixed on the black meteoric flight as the young dragon beat her wings in a smooth rhythm.
Vilja landed next to Ragnar with a final graceful swoop. The pup¡¯s scales shimmered with a deep, inky black, a telltale sign of a lesser storm dragon, renowned as one of the strongest variants among the lesser dragons. She was small now, about the same size as Bjorn, but everyone was fully aware that this was just the beginning. One day that dragon would command storms and lightning with the same ease that Thrand commanded fire.
Ragnar stood all the prouder now that he had his familiar. His eyes flicked back and forth between his parents, who he desperately wanted to impress. His chest swelled with pride, a young boy basking in the recognition of his power. Beside him, Vilja, the lesser storm dragon pup, stood tall, her scales gleaming in the sunlight like polished obsidian.
Bjorn managed to free himself from Freja¡¯s grip. He positioned himself between Freja and her kin, his long neck arching in defiance. Ragnar merely laughed at the display, seeing the small, long-necked drake as an odd, unimpressive creature. His laugh was tinged with arrogance as he pointed.
Vilja saw Bjorn differently than her master. The moment her eyes locked onto him, she freaked out. Her body trembled as she squawked cries of fear and bloody murder. Her wings fluttered in frantic panic in an attempt to flee but she was too scared to even lift off properly, she scrambled backwards, tripping on her own tail. Bjorn could taste her instincts screaming at her to flee. Ragnar had to rush to calm her down before she could take off.
¡°What has gotten into you, Vilja?¡± Ragnar asked as she bucked him off of her. ¡°Calm down, it¡¯s just some stupid lizard.¡±
Thrand turned his attention to the group due to the commotion and looked down at the little Bjorn. He also backed up, lowering his head as if to hide behind Lord Salstar. The Lord was shocked that even his dragon was affected, even afraid of the small creature in front of him.
¡°Poisoner.¡± Thrand said in a low rumble that sounded more like crushing rocks.
The Lord got control of the large dragon with a simple wave of his hand, unlike Ragnar. The Lord¡¯s displeasure now turned again into anger at the scene before him. The Shiagaunt would have removed Freja properly, but his son losing control of his familiar made them look weak, which was not acceptable. This was supposed to be a display of strength over the cancer in their family that was Freja. A Shai that would soon be excised.
¡°Get control of your familiar, boy,¡± Lord Salstar said curtly. He turned his attention to his daughter on the ground. ¡°Get up Freja, we are leaving.¡±
¡°Ragnar.¡± Ingrid chastised.
Freja grabbed Bjorn, this time being sure to hold him tighter so he could not escape.
¡°What did that little monster do to Vilja?¡± Ragnar screamed in outrage, the mask of his performance broken. He walked over to Freja, who was still picking herself up, and kicked her in the side, causing her to fall over. ¡°She¡¯s never acted like this before. What did your freaky little familiar do?¡±
¡°Ragnar, enough. Or do you mean to further shame yourself,¡± Lord Salstar said in a deep rumble.
¡°But it was her. She did something,¡± Ragnar protested.
¡°Excuses Ragnar? You think I want to hear them from my heir?¡± the man asked in a rhetorical tone. ¡°Take Vilja and get out of my sight. You have done enough. Ingrid love, take him.¡± He turned to Freja. ¡°With this the Shiagaunt is complete, come.¡±
As the two talked Freja once again stood up, her head down to hide the pain she felt. The pain that Bjorn could sense all too well. He could taste her anguish, her torture, her hatred and every ounce of her fear, and it broke his heart. If he could, he would rip those entitled pricks apart. For now at least all he could do was hiss and watch them closely, as either were more than capable of killing him in an instant.
***
Thrand and the noble family were gone; they absconded with Freja right after Ragnar lost control of his familiar. The spot where the massive dragon landed was already being repaired by groundskeepers. Students were expected to continue their studies as if what had just happened was normal. Mat and Julie were mortified, and many other students looked the same. Those of Freja¡¯s race had already started mocking her for being a failure of a noble who was kicked from her family, calling her something Mat had never heard before: a Shai.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
¡°What was that?¡± Mat said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone do anything?¡±
Julie''s eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she still had a hand over her mouth. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know, Mat.¡±
¡°What you all just witnessed was called a Shiagaunt,¡± Ms. Dimii said to a small group of stunned girls a few feet away. ¡°None of you have to worry, it is a complex tradition.¡±
The Dorm Mother¡¯s voice instantly gained the two shell shocked student¡¯s attention. Mat and Julie looked at each other for a moment as the initial surprise gave way to questions they wanted answered. Nearly all of the students that huddled around Ms. Dimii were also human, with a smattering of elves and a single goblin. They were all worried about what they¡¯d just seen, and obviously shaken by the fact that the Lord of the domain let his son terrorize his daughter out in public.
A tall elf girl asked, ¡°Can that happen to us? I mean, he just abused his daughter in front of all of us.¡± She looked more and more like she was going to hyperventilate. ¡°Can the Lord of this place just show up and¡¡±
Ms. Dimii cut the girl off before she worked herself up any more. ¡°No-no, the Shiagaunt is a tradition to disown a family member who has dishonored their family and was in line to become an heir. It is a form of public shame on the individual that has caused the disgrace. It may have appeared brutal to many of you, but I can assure you what the Lord did is completely legal and an accepted practice only under those extenuating circumstances. Everyone here is completely safe.¡±
¡°What¡¯s going to happen to Freja?¡± Mat asked.
The crowd all nodded along with the question, many of them still shaken by the brutality of the Shiagaunt.
¡°The rules around the Shiagaunt are pretty clear,¡± Dimii said calmly. ¡° They will give her money and some stipulations about not using the family name, and then she will be released to start her life over. The fact that she was the daughter of a noble means she will be given enough money to travel wherever she wants and place down roots easily.¡±
¡°So, she¡¯ll be fine?¡± Julie asked.
¡°Yes, there shouldn¡¯t be anything to worry about,¡± Dimii said with a small but reassuring smile. ¡°If you all have any other questions about the Shiagaunts you can read about it in the library, in the cultural section.¡± She placed her hands on her hips. ¡°Now I know that this was more excitement than usual in the morning, but you all need to get to your classes before you¡¯re late. I will not be writing any excuse passes for you all.¡±
The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed. The girls felt assured that at the very least the Shiagaunt was not something that could happen to them. A few students stayed to ask the Dorm Mother other questions related to their rooms, but they were quickly answered and moved on. Mat and Julie were the last students around the Dorm Mother. They were Freja¡¯s best friends and had more questions as to the safety of their friend and her whereabouts.
Dimii kept her tone light, but there was obvious worry behind her words. ¡°I understand you both want more information, but there is no set location for where a family has to take a dishonored family member. Freja should be fine, though. They will give her money, and when she settles down I¡¯m sure she will send you both letters.¡±
¡°Is there nothing else we¡¯ll be able to do but wait?¡± Julie asked. ¡°Please, Ms. Dimii.¡±
Ms. Dimii looked them both over. ¡°Right now, no. All we can do is wait to hear back from her. Just remember they can lose track of time quite easily; it comes with the longer lifespan. Now all students need to get! I was serious about not writing any passes today.¡±
The two students felt there was more to the story, but just like Ms. Dimii said, if they wanted to find out more about the Shiagaunt they needed to look it up for themselves. They dropped the subject and hurried to their classes.
***
The ride on the back of Thrand was smooth as the large dragon followed the ebb and flow of the wind. The cabin on his back was large and decorated for nobility. Gold and red interiors and upholstery in booths around the windows. Above them fancy chandeliers with magic stones lit the space. Even a couple of servants to serve the Lord and his guests, and a separate section for preparing meals.
¡°I don¡¯t know what happened. She was fine then she just went berserk.¡± Ragnar said.
¡°We will get to the bottom of it, Ragnar. Vilja is young, she will need more training.¡± Ingrid said, her voice calm and methodical. ¡°It is not that she lost control that is the issue. You lost control. One day you will be as powerful as Lord Ulfar. Do you know what will happen if he loses control? The magic inside him would react, Thrand would react and we would all be dead. Being powerful makes you better but it also means you must hold yourself to higher standards.¡±
Freja¡¯s mother Ingrid was also present, but she hadn¡¯t so much as looked at Freja. Ingrid was the same race as the rest of them but with notably lighter skin and white freckles along her neck. Bjorn guessed that she might be a different ethnicity within the race.
¡°With me being the heir now does that mean I have to go with father?¡± Ragnar asked.
¡°Yes, all heirs must be taken by the current family head. It is a tradition for all of Yuhia to ensure that our next generation is strong.¡±
¡°Love, that is enough.¡± Ulfar said. ¡°I will discuss his actions and what happens next later. Leave that conversation for me.¡±
Ingrid nodded. ¡°Of course, Lord Husband, Ragnar is yours to shape.¡±
The Lord sat in a special seat near the front of the cabin at a desk. Behind him was the banner of the Salstar domain, which Bjorn had yet to find out the name of. The Lord was going over some paperwork while smoking from an ivory pipe. The servants were both elves, sisters by the look of them. They were at the beck and call of everyone other than Freja, whom they ignored completely.
Freja and Bjorn sat alone in a booth with a closed window. She gently petted Bjorn, emotions all over the place. Meanwhile Bjorn decided that, now that there was a lull, he could finally go over some things with Failsafe.
¡°So, the skills were interrupted when we were going over them,¡± Bjorn said mentally.
¡°Ah, yes!¡± Failsafe exclaimed. ¡°I actually had to make some changes, given the new information about you being a familiar and all.¡±
Bjorn opened his menus with a thought and looked over his status.
Status Menu
Name: Bjorn Salstar
Species: Unknown
Level: 0.02
Vitality: 1
Restoration:1
Constitution: 1
Strength: 1
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 1
Magic: 1
Magic Regeneration: 2 (+1 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Reincarnation Failsafe
An incomplete reincarnation magic and your best friend that has your back no matter what!
Venomous Bite
Magic Cost: 0
You have a neurotoxic venom which can be injected through a bite with your fangs.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
You can mix your venom into the air using magic creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal over time.
Familiar Pact Connection
Magic Cost: -1
As a familiar you are receiving +1 to your magic regeneration
Dragon Repellant?
Passive Skill?
Dragons seem to dislike you for some reason and show hesitation and fear around you. More study needed.
Page 2 of 2
Failsafe cleared his nonexistent throat. ¡°So what I was going to tell you is that right now you can use one spell, hence you only have one point in magic. The magic cost on your spells is one point. As long as you are near Freja you should regain that point of magic once every twelve hours. Should you be separated you will lose that bonus and it will take probably twice as long.¡±
¡°That is ridiculous right? Why does it take so long?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Did you forget you were just born yesterday?¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°You are a newborn; the fact you can use magic at all is crazy.¡±
¡°So only my natural venom doesn¡¯t cost any mana. What¡¯s that Dragon Repellant thing you added?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Just an observation. Ignore it for now,¡± Failsafe stated.
¡°Do you have any idea how potent my venom actually is?¡± Bjorn asked as he stretched on Freja¡¯s lap.
¡°We won''t know until you use it,¡± Failsafe said.
¡°Some experimentation would be nice if only I could talk,¡± Bjorn sighed.
¡°Right, remind me I might have come up with a way for you to get stronger faster, but we¡¯ll need to kill something for me to test it out,¡± Failsafe said.
¡°We need to kill something? Will a bug do?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Not unless it can use magic,¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°Because I¡¯m a magical construct I can actually absorb and manipulate mana. It¡¯s not much but that¡¯s how I¡¯m able to function without draining your mana constantly. Right now I am running on free mana out in the atmosphere, also called ambient mana. But when something dies its remaining mana can be absorbed. I¡¯ll even gain some of their experiences as well as a memory or two. If I can store some of that mana I can introduce it to you in a manner your body will absorb.¡±
¡°That sounds like cultivation,¡± Bjorn said without even thinking. He then lifted his head and thought about it. ¡°How do I know what cultivation is? That is cultivation, right?¡±
¡°I believe sooo¡ or something like it. Maybe? Look-look, both of our memories are incomplete, so either it is or it isn''t and I just invented a brand new way to grow stronger,¡± Failsafe said almost dismissively. ¡°The important part is getting stronger as fast as possible so we can get our memories back.¡±
Bjorn set his head back down on Freja¡¯s lap. ¡°That reminds me. If I die before that can you reincarnate me again?¡±
¡°Once you reach level 410 I should be able to. If you die before that we¡¯re just going to be regular dead,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°However, if you hit level 410 and croak, in our next life both of us will lose all of our memories and we won''t be able to recover them. This you and the you from your first life will be dead in a sense.¡±
The smooth motion of the dragon¡¯s wings came to a stop as Thrand landed abruptly. Lord Salstar stood up from his desk, smoke pipe in hand. He walked over to Freja, standing over her, and before she could even react a soft white light ring appeared around her and Bjorn¡¯s necks. The ring dragged both of them out of the booth as they struggled against it. The door to the cabin was opened, and the two were thrown out.
[6] Agony and Rage
Freja and Bjorn rolled down Thrand¡¯s back, his massive wing creating a leathery ramp to the rocky ground below. The descent was anything but gentle; sharp scales left small cuts and the sheer speed of the fall made the inevitable rocks at the end all the more painful. The fall was not pleasant as the rocks and speed caused them both to be rattled with pain.
Freja lifted her hands over her head to protect herself as much as possible but her limbs scraped against rough surfaces. Bjorn was slightly better off aside because his scales offered moderate protection that Freja didn¡¯t have. The clearing where they landed was surrounded by dense forest, the towering trees casting long shadows. They came to a painful stop at the base of a crag, the sharp edges of the rocks digging into their flesh.
Lord Salstar watched with cold detachment from high atop Thrand. With a dismissive flick of his wand the starlight magic that had been choking them vanished. He just stood there as if their suffering was an ordained inevitably playing out at his inconvenience. His eyes shone with a silver light, almost holy despite their cold unyielding nature.
Now that Lord Salstar was no longer around so many people his mana flowed from him unabated. A magic caster as powerful as him had to keep his aura and mana under fine control. It was dangerous for normal people to be around a mage with mana as potent as what he possessed. It could overwhelm them and cause serious harm both physically and mentally. Lord Salstar¡¯s might permeated the world around him and looking up at the man was like looking up at an angry god preparing to strike down blasphemers to his holy word.
Freja had been sure this would happen the moment she saw her brother at the school. This was a Shiagaunt, the removal of a potential heir to a noble house. The Shiagaunt made her a pariah, a Shai and would serve to separate her from her house. Since her older sister died, technically she was next in line to become head of the family after their father. However, invoking a Shiagaunt in front of spectators, bowing to her younger brother, and him grabbing her antlers showed that she recognized him as her superior.
All that was left was for her family to abandon her. She had steeled herself for that outcome but hadn¡¯t thought it would come so soon, or with such brutality. The reality of it hit her harder than the fall. She tried to gather her thoughts, to muster some semblance of strength, but the pain and the humiliation were overwhelming.
It was her mother Ingrid that jumped down off the back of Thrand. She landed with perfect grace and without so much as disturbing the air around her. She walked over to the injured girl and looked at her with a disappointed sigh. Freja groaned as she tried to push herself up, her body screamed in protest which caused her to lay back down. Bjorn hissed and jumped to their defense, his scales dulled and scraped from the rough landing.
Ingrid knelt down to her daughter, ignoring Bjorn entirely. ¡°Freja, for too long you have been the stain on the honor of our family. We were wrong to believe a mere wizard was worthy of the name Salstar when all you did was fail again and again. Ulfar had to listen to your sister when she was heir. Helga was an idealist to a fault and she believed that one day you would be useful.
¡°I don¡¯t know what she saw in you but if you had died instead of her we would be so much better off.¡± Her gaze turned predatory. ¡°Well, let''s see if you can be useful for once. If you have learned anything in your studies worth a damn.¡± She pointed behind Freja. ¡°In that cave is a troll. I assume you know what that is. It has caused problems for the people of a nearby village. Any Salstar worth their name would be able to kill it easily. Prove to me you are worth my time, and maybe I will convince Lord Salstar you are worth his.¡±
¡°You expect me to kill a troll?¡± Freja asked pleadingly. ¡°But-but how?¡±
¡°With your magic.¡± Ingrid said as she stood up.
¡°If you wanted to kill me, why not just do it?¡± Freja said in a trembling voice. ¡°We are out here in the middle of nowhere. No one would care if I didn¡¯t show up again, no one would even look for me.¡±
¡°Kill you? Aren¡¯t you a Salstar? Where is your pride, we are asking you to kill one small troll for forgiveness. Even Eira would have no problem with this task. Yet you are groveling on the ground? Stand up and brace yourself for victory or death. If you expect to die, decide now if it will be on your knees or on your feet.¡±
Ingrid walked up the dragon''s wing and joined her husband at the top. Moments later Thrand flapped hard, and in seconds the dragon was far off in the skies above. Bjorn was much faster to recover than Freja, who appeared to be in shock.
Freja knew it was true that a trained mage with battle experience could take on a troll alone, but she was not a mage nor trained in combat. Her family just left her to die. They left her to get brutally ripped apart by some crazed beast. She was still reeling from the tumble, the choking, the slap, and now this. Before she could even stand the world went silent as all of the animals in the area fled. A thunderous roar came from the cave a little over 300 feet away. The beast stepped out into the sun, irritated that some weak intruders dared step into its territory.
The brute stood over eight feet tall, its muscular form hidden under a thick hide. Its arms were long and hairy, its claws caked with the dried blood of its previous meal. Its form was oddly humanoid, but wrong and misshapen. Its mouth was full of jagged blackened incisors. It took another step out of the cave and let out another roar, this one even louder.
Bjorn once again inserted himself between Freja and danger. The young girl''s eyes were locked on what she was sure would be her death in a few more heartbeats. Fighting was suicide, Bjorn knew that, but if Freja ran maybe she could get away. Bjorn turned and bit her shirt sleeve to try to get her to move. She was so scared she couldn¡¯t even stand. The troll took another step and Bjorn could taste the creature''s anticipation; he was eager to hunt and his eyes were locked on Freja.
¡°I think we should get out of here, like yesterday, Bjorn,¡± Failsafe said, panicked.
¡°Damn-it she won¡¯t budge. She¡¯s in shock,¡± Bjorn responded.
¡°Yeah, I noticed, but we can move, we can get out of here,¡± Failsafe said.
Bjorn paused; he hadn''t even considered leaving Freja. The idea was asinine, or was it? He knew his protective instinct for the girl was because of the familiar contract. He could break that contract and run. Yes, that would mean leaving this girl to die but shouldn¡¯t he prioritize his own life? He obviously cared a lot about himself, seeing that his previous life created a return from death magic in the form of Failsafe.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He thought back to the dream he¡¯d had before waking up as this lizard thing. It was fuzzy but he knew it was how he died, his last memory. In that moment he didn¡¯t think about saving himself. He was putting his all into a spell that would save the people of that kingdom. Bjorn would like to think that was who he was. A man who put others first. He knew he was grasping at straws and romanticizing his death like it was something noble. In truth for all he knew he caused that destruction in the dream.
The lizard took a deep breath. ¡°How do I activate one of the skills? The Poison Scratch one.¡±
¡°Are you seriously going to try and fight that thing?¡± Failsafe screamed in disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re going to get us ki¡ª¡±
¡°Failsafe,¡± Bjorn said in a tone reminiscent of a man ready to die. ¡°How do I do it?¡±
Failsafe was quiet for a few heart beats. ¡°Since you are an animal it should be automatic. Focus your magic on your claws with the intention of infusing your venom into them. No chanting or anything like that, it¡¯s just directing the flow of mana.¡±
¡°Thanks,¡± Bjorn said solemnly.
Failsafe took a long breath. ¡°Well, this was a short life but it was nice being here with you.¡±
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal over time.
Bjorn focused on the flow of his mana, moving it around his body. He felt his only point of mana drain from his core into his claws and they started to steam with a sickly green vapor. With the troll focused entirely on Freja he decided to run in an arc, making it first look like he was running away. The troll watched him only for a second before turning his attention back to Freja who was the easier prey. The beast hunched over and began running on all fours like an ape.
Freja screamed as the creature drew closer, snapping her out of her frozen state. She frantically looked around for Bjorn, only to see him running away. Despair washed over her; she believed she was going to die alone, abandoned by her family and her own familiar. She tried to get up and get running but slipped as she tripped over herself, only managing to crawl in a pathetic mess of frantic terrified motions.
That¡¯s when she heard the troll scream in agony. It howled as the running thumps of its footsteps stopped. The sound of it wrestling with something drew her eyes back around. She saw Bjorn on the creature''s back, biting and scratching as many times as he could. The cuts were superficial at most, barely drawing any blood. Besides that, she knew trolls had an extremely fast healing factor. Cuts and bites would heal up in minutes.
¡°Bjorn, run!¡± she called out as she finally reached for her wand.
The troll thrashed his arms wildly, trying to reach the nuisance on his back. His animal intelligence didn¡¯t allow him to think of any better strategy than wild rage. It was all he needed after all, and soon Bjorn was knocked free. The troll whirled around with speed unbefitting its size. His ape-like hands clasped tightly on Bjorn¡¯s torso while his claws dug deep into the lizard''s ribs. The monster''s other hand quickly reached for the lizard''s neck, but with another bite it decided to slam Bjorn against the ground until he stopped moving. He then threw the lifeless lizards body away as he turned back to Freja.
Freja chanted her spell, but when she saw Bjorn''s broken body hit the ground her words petered out. The spell failed, which was expected since she¡¯d never tried offensive magic before. The troll rushed Freja, and with a slash of its claw she was sent flying. Her body burned with pain as flesh tore. Her vision blurred as she breathed in a mountain of earth. She found herself face down in a muddy red pool of her own blood. She rolled onto her back but could not sit up. The troll stepped on her right leg as it approached, shooting blinding pain into her as several sickening cracks rang out.
The creature raised both hands over its head, ready to bring them down on Freja and end her life in one quick and decisive blow. Freja looked up, past the hulking giant into the sky where Thrand circled overhead. She reached out her right arm since the other was broken; she only had one thought in her head. Through the pain. Through the sadness. Through the abuse, the torment, the years of hatred. She didn¡¯t want to die, not like this, not to this beast in this field.
Her heart darkened, and all she could think was to curse her fake fucking family. She cursed them over and over again. She screamed all of the rage she¡¯d built up over the years. Every profane thing she could think she wished upon them. Even through it all there were no more tears, not for her sad life.
That¡¯s when she noticed the beast had not brought down its hands. She turned her attention back to her executioner as he stumbled dizzily off of her pinned broken leg. The creature continued to drunkenly wobble as blood began to foam in its mouth. It spun and Freja saw that none of the wounds Bjorn had given it had healed; they all seemed to only grow more intense and bloody. After a few minutes of this the creature fell over, going into a violent seizure.
Trolls were notoriously tough creatures, their healing factors usually meant that your first strike had to be a decisive killing blow. Their bones were as tough as iron, their hide ridged leather. They could regenerate from near anything. They were resistant to poisons and venoms and even weaker magics. Freja knew all this, and could not believe what she was seeing. A troll felled by venom¡ It was unheard of, it was damn near impossible.
As the creature let out its last few death throes Thrand landed in the clearing with a tremor that shook the landscape. Moments later Lord Salstar, Lady Ingrid, Ragnar and a few servants descended the dragon¡¯s back. Ragnar had a bemused look on his face; he hadn¡¯t expected her to survive and kill the troll. Lord Salstar, on the other hand, watched her like a hawk preparing to strike.
Ingrid approached first, her stride slow and methodical. She again bent down next to her daughter looking over the mangled girl like a bug to be crushed. Freja could barely see her through the relentless pain. She could hear her heart beating in her ears.
¡°I am surprised you are still conscious.¡± Ingrid said. ¡°However pathetically you won, you still won. I will keep up my promise.¡±
Ingrid returned to Lord Salstar and the two talked, Freja could not tell how long the pain made it impossible. Lord Salstar and two of his servants approached the heavily bleeding girl. Her mother and brother were ordered to keep their distance. The servants dropped Freja¡¯s belongings on the ground in a pile before they too distanced themselves, leaving the Lord alone with his estranged child.
¡°You could not cast a single spell. You froze and got your familiar killed, and here you are, only alive because of a fluke. It is like you were born to disappoint me. I can not believe Helga convinced me to keep you around for so many years, may she rest with the Forest Father. It looks like your mother was right all along. We should have removed you long ago. The Salstar family will be all the brighter after today.¡±
¡°Fuck you,¡± Freja said. Her mouth was dry, dirty, bloody and was barely able to speak. ¡°You tried to kill me. You killed my familiar. You ruined my life. Fuck you, Ulfar Salstar.¡±
The Lord clicked his tongue in disapproval. ¡°You are stripped of any nobility my blood would have granted you. You are no Salstar. You are Shai. You are disowned, never use the Salstar name. Never return to the Salstar territory or any of our towns.¡± He bent down and placed a small potion and a silk bag on the ground. ¡°I pray you have a short life and for your sake we never meet again.¡±
It only took a few moments before her family was gone, back on Thrand and into the skies.
Freja laid there in agony and rage. She looked at the potion her father left her. A small health potion, not enough to fully heal her wounds of course, but maybe enough to set the bones and stop some of the internal bleeding. She reached for the potion and drank it in one gulp.
The girl screamed as her broken arm, ribs and leg bones reset but didn¡¯t heal. Her body grew hotter and some of the more grievous wounds stopped bleeding. The pain was quick but unforgiving, and as soon as it was over she passed out.
[7] Hope I Can Swim
It wasn¡¯t simply darkness¡ªit was a void, a profound emptiness that defied existence itself. There¡¯s a difference, however subtle, between a vast, dark expanse¡ªsomething the mind can grasp, even if infinite¡ªand a place utterly devoid of being. Darkness, after all, is still a concept, something one can envision or feel pressing in. But this¡ this was an absence beyond even the idea of light or darkness, a space so barren that not even the notion of existence could take root. It wasn¡¯t something the mind could understand¡ªonly the soul could recognize it, an instinctual awareness of the absolute nothingness.
Bjorn floated in that void, suspended in the weight of non-existence, but only for the briefest moment before something yanked his soul violently back to the realm of the living. He had experienced it once before and found that the feeling was the same. The first sensation was warmth, then breath, then darkness as his eyes rolled open. It took longer than it should have for his vision to focus and his body to respond. He didn¡¯t feel injured, just tired and weak.
I am alive? Well, that fight sucked.
He tried to focus on his vision; he was still seeing double but after a few moments his vision returned to normal. He rolled over onto his paws, now laying on his stomach instead of his side. His muscles were sore and felt as if he had been shredded from the inside out then quickly stitched back together.
He struggled to remember what happened to him. The last thing he could recall was being caught in the grasp of the troll, then nothing but the void. He coughed, his throat dry and scratchy. He flicked his tongue and tasted death. The sun was setting but the crag face caught the light, giving the area a few more minutes before night.
He followed the taste of death with his eyes and it didn¡¯t take long to find the troll. It¡¯s body unmoving as a gentle breeze ruffled it¡¯s fur. He didn¡¯t see Freja though he could feel his connection to her. He didn¡¯t know if that meant she was alive or that he would need to break the bond.
¡°Failsafe? Failsafe are you there?¡± Bjorn called out mentally
¡°Five more minutes.¡± Failsafe responded with a sleepy voice. ¡°I am just kidding.¡±
¡°Do you sleep?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Nope, I couldn''t even if I tried.¡± Failsafe said. ¡°And I have tried mind you.¡±
¡°What happened to us? I thought we were dead.¡±
¡°Yeah, about that. I discovered something new that totally saved our lives. As for what happened, you almost got us killed, the troll grabbed us and nearly turned us into a lizard paste.¡± Failsafe said happily. ¡°Apparently we have a really powerful regeneration ability. I am still analyzing it so give me a minute. I think I will have something for you.¡±
¡°I feel fine, sore but fine, how bad was it?¡± Bjorn asked
¡°Oh, it was bad, like your insides looked more like minced meat bad.¡± Failsafe groaned. ¡°And it hurt too.¡±
¡°You can feel pain?¡±
¡°I feel everything you do.¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°I can see what you see too.¡±
¡°Huh¡ good to know.¡± Bjorn said.
Bjorn shifted his thoughts back to what had happened to him and he really couldn¡¯t remember how the fight ended. He remembered jumping on the back of the troll and very vaguely remembers getting grabbed. He thought it would be better to just put that behind and think about what comes next. First he needed to make sure the troll was dead.
The lizard moved as silently as he could, and crouched to make himself as hard to see as possible. He had a slight limp on his back right leg but it was more of a phantom pain than an actual injury so he powered through. The last thing he wanted was to wake the creature if it wasn¡¯t dead. With each flick of his snake-like tongue he could taste death in the air. It grew stronger as he got closer but he wasn¡¯t taking chances.
He walked around the completely still cadaver a few times from what he considered a safe distance. With no movement from the creature he approached its back, not confident in being able to escape if it suddenly sprung at him from the front. After scratching it with his claws and jumping back with no reaction he approached again. The creature was good and dead, but that left Bjorn with a question.
¡°Did our venom really take it down or did Freja use some kind of spell on it?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°I didn¡¯t see any other wounds on it, soo¡ I think this was all us.¡± Failsafe said.
¡°Failsafe, did the cultivation thing you were talking about work? I mean we killed this thing, right?¡± Bjorn asked as he examined the dead creature. ¡°This thing had to boost our level, right?¡±
¡°Huh, oh that, well yes and no,¡± Failsafe responded though he sounded embarrassed. ¡°Most of our share of the energy I took from it, and I mean like 95% got used up healing us¡ and the rest¨C¡±
Bjorn cut him off. ¡°You said most of the energy got used up and our share. What do you mean our share shouldn¡¯t all of it be ours? Who are we sharing our brand new possibly cultivation, uh, energy? Energy with!¡±
¡°So, funny story. I forgot to account for the fact that you¡¯re a familiar.¡± Failsafe said. ¡°So, when I created your menu system Freja¡¯s magic copied it. I don''t think she¡¯s used it yet, in fact I don¡¯t think she consciously knows she has the ability, but her body is also able to create mental projection menus, stats and skill sheets. It would be based off of ours until her magic changes it to fit her needs.¡±
¡°You lost me, what does that have to do with my question?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Wellll,¡± Failsafe held the word for longer than necessary. ¡°When I developed our cultivation method her magic copied that as well, and technically you are an extension of her magic as long as you have the familiar bond.¡±
¡°So, when I kill something the energy or reward or whatever is shared between us?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Yes so your¡ uh, let''s call it experience, got split between the two of you,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°And she now has a cultivation method.¡±
¡°Well, I guess that will be a good thing in the long run,¡± Bjorn said. ¡°It¡¯s going to start getting cold soon; let¡¯s check out the cave, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be smart to stay out here in the open.¡±
¡°True, night belongs to the monsters,¡± Failsafe agreed.
Bjorn felt better with the confirmation that the troll was dead. He looked around in the direction he could feel Freja thanks to their bond. Since he could now stand to the fullness of his height he could make out the crumpled form of Freja not too far from the collapsed troll. He limped over to make sure she was still alive. He could feel the familiar bond still active so she had to be breathing, right? Failsafe didn¡¯t say she was dead and he couldn¡¯t taste death in her direction, only blood.
Freja lay before him in a terrible state, the ground beneath her soaked in blood, staining the remnants of her shredded uniform that clinged to her in tatters. Her wounds had stopped bleeding, the potion she¡¯d taken working its magic. Her right arm and side were marred with fresh scars, angry red lines that had been hastily closed by the potion she¡¯d taken. It was a small mercy in the midst of such violence, but it wasn¡¯t enough. The empty bottle clutched in her hand was a lifeline, a small glass vessel that had likely kept her from death¡¯s door.
Bjorn¡¯s gaze swept over her, taking in the ragged rise and fall of her chest. She was alive, but just barely. He knew the potion had done its job on the surface, but the damage beneath was still there, a ticking clock counting down inside her fragile body. On the ground beside her were her belongings, which appeared to have been thrown to the ground without care for the contents.
¡°She¡¯s alive, but you hear that?¡± Bjorn said mentally, his concern deepening as he listened to the ragged sound of her breathing.
¡°Yeah, she¡¯s got internal injuries. Her breathing sounds bad,¡± Failsafe replied grimly. ¡°I don¡¯t think she is surviving this. We can at least make death comfortable for her.¡±
¡°That¡¯s awfully dark. I think we can help her. I survived,¡± Bjorn said.
¡°Well, if you think so.¡± Failsafe said optimistically. ¡°You know what, yeah! Let¡¯s do it. We¡¯ve got to find somewhere not so out in the open, though.¡±
Determined, Bjorn scanned the area until his gaze settled on the cave the troll had called home. As he approached, his vision easily adjusted to the darkness within, and his flicking tongue confirmed that the cave was clear of any more trolls. The inside was lined with the bones of all sorts of animals and even other magic beasts. The strong musk of the troll was everywhere, which might keep them safe; other beasts would likely stay away from the troll''s territory.
Satisfied with the shelter, he returned to Freja with the plan to drag the girl into the cave. He bit onto her shirt, careful not to nick her with his fangs. He didn''t think moving her would be easy, but he also didn¡¯t think it would be so hard. Freja wasn¡¯t a big girl by any means, she probably weighed about a hundred ten pounds soaking wet. The minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity, each foot gained a small victory in the struggle against her weight.
Ever so slowly but surely, after an hour and a half they finally made it. The sun fully set and the temperature was dropping fast. That brought up a new problem, with her being in such a delicate state the cold could push her over the edge and he was determined to make sure this wasn¡¯t her final sleep.
¡°I need a plan, what do you suggest?¡± Bjorn asked hurriedly. ¡°She is going to get really cold really fast.¡±
¡°Maybe she has more things we can cover her with in that pile.¡± Failsafe responded.
¡°That yeah, that makes sense, thanks!¡±
He needed to act fast. Without wasting time, Bjorn darted back to the pile of her belongings, his mind racing for a solution. He found her travel bag among the scattered items, its contents spilling out: books, papers, and various personal effects. He left the unnecessary items behind, focusing solely on what could help her survive the night.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Tugging the bag along was far easier than moving Freja had been, and he quickly brought it back to her side. Once he returned to the cave he decided it was high time he got to see how dexterous his hands were. He didn¡¯t want to rip the bag because it would be useful when they traveled. His front paws looked like they were meant to grab and hold onto things with three finger-like talons and a forth that functioned kind of like a thumb. He used his hands to carefully unzip the bag.
He found that he could do simple movements with his hands, but he was never going to be a painter, not in this life at least. Once the bag was open he used his mouth to quickly take out all of the clothing inside, placing a layer of skirts, sweater vests and shirts on top of Freja. Once he was done with the task, he curled up beside her to share body heat. With things calmed down he finally opened his status to see what changes had been made.
Status Menu
Name: Bjorn Salstar
Species: Unknown
Level: 0.5
Vitality: 1
Restoration:10
Constitution: 1
Strength: 1
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 1
Magic: 1
Magic Regeneration: 2 (+2 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Reincarnation Failsafe
An incomplete reincarnation magic construct and your best friend that has your back no matter what!
Venomous Bite
Magic Cost: 0
You have a neurotoxic venom which can be injected through a bite with your fangs.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
You can mix your venom into the air using magic, creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal over time.
Familiar Pact Connection
Magic Cost: -3
As a familiar you are receiving +3 to your magic regeneration
Dragon Repellant?
Passive Skill?
Dragons seem to dislike you for some reason and show hesitation and fear around you. More study needed.
Super Regeneration?
Magic Cost: 40-ish
Currently only usable if fallen beasts powers the magic, major wounds can be healed. More study needed but not recommended we try again.
Page 2 of 2
***
Morning came with the sound of a pained scream, causing Bjorn to spring awake. He hissed loudly in alert and scanned his environment for any signs of attack. He dreaded the idea of another troll returning from a night of hunting. Only the far wall of the cave was illuminated by the rising sun. The low light didn¡¯t matter because, as Bjorn found out last night, he could see in darkness quite well.
It didn¡¯t take much to discover the source of the scream. Freja was awake but didn''t have the energy to sit up with her broken ribs. Her shock and joy quickly turned into confusion when she saw Bjorn up and about after what had happened to him the day before. She winced in pain as she reached out her hand, following the familiar bond that connected them. He wasn¡¯t gone; she couldn¡¯t believe what she was seeing, he was alive.
¡°Bjorn?¡± she whispered, as if saying the name too loud would cause him to vanish. ¡°That is you, right?¡±
Bjorn squawked in response, and the girl reached forward despite the pain by infusing her muscles with mana.
She embraced him. ¡°I am sorry, baby!¡± She cried. ¡°I couldn¡¯t even cast one spell to protect you. It must have been so scary for you and I just sat there and watched. I am so, so sorry.¡±
The tears wouldn¡¯t stop as pain forced her back to the ground. The pain didn¡¯t even allow her to lift her arms and pet the loyal familiar. Bjorn knew she was injured but not to what extent. It may be a few days or weeks before she would be fit to move. That meant she would need food and water, especially after losing so much blood. He needed to do something for her and fast.
¡°What happened to you? How did you survive?,¡± she said but winced in pain. ¡°We have to go. My father¡ my father disowned me. He actually tried to kill us.¡± She shook her head. ¡°If Helga were alive he wouldn¡¯t¡ it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Her eyes finally darted around the cave. ¡°Did you drag me in here? Good boy. I just need to rest a little mo¡¡± She passed out cold.
Bjorn stayed by Freja for a few more minutes, then he decided to search around the mouth of the cave. He wanted to get a good lay of the land. He decided to finish gathering the rest of Freja¡¯s belongings, which included her alchemy set in a rather nice leather-bound case along with several notebooks and textbooks. It was a few hours from midday, and aside from a couple of vultures circling the dead troll not much had changed from the day prior. The clearing around the large rock face stretched out into a short grassland before transitioning to unkempt woodland.
¡°Do you think Freja can eat troll meat?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°I don¡¯t know, but you did pump it full of venom so probably not,¡± Failsafe responded.
¡°Can she not eat anything I kill with my venom?¡± Bjorn asked as he found a rock that he could climb to get a better view of the surroundings. ¡°That might be a problem. I am pretty sure I¡¯m supposed to be an ambush predator that strikes and wraps my prey up with my long body.¡±
¡°We just have to hunt something small like a bird or rabbit after we find some water,¡± Failsafe added.
Bjorn swung around, looking for any signs of monsters skulking about. With each tongue flare he could literally taste the decomposition of the troll along with the vultures¡¯ frustration trying to get to the meat beneath the thick hide. He decided to watch for a few hours just to make sure nothing would show up while he left Freja alone in the cave.
¡°Well it is my venom so I should be okay, right?¡± Bjorn said as he approached the troll. ¡°I¡¯ll take a bite for the road.¡±
***
After he satisfied his stomach he returned to check on the sleeping girl before he left for the grassland. She looked worse and he could taste her turmoil in the air. He walked over to the alchemy case and after a few tries managed to undo the latch and open it. Inside were vials, beakers, a mortar and pestle along with a host of tools, potions and ingredients. Bjorn could tell that the girl was passionate about her use of alchemy, and he felt she most likely wanted to learn to cover her deficiencies as a magic caster.
Bjorn took one of the empty glass beakers in his mouth. A runic symbol at the bottom reinforced the durability, making it far stronger than the thin glass made it seem. Now that he had a cup he was off to the grassland to find water. The clacking of his talons against hard rocky ground changed into a much softer comfortable jaunt now that he had soft soil beneath his paws. The lizard decided to use his magic to tug at the familiar pact under the direction of Failsafe. He found that he could feel the direction back to Freja; at least he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about getting lost.
The grass was tall, or at least taller than he was, meaning he had to rely on his sense of the familiar bond like a compass to know he was going in the right direction. Soon enough he reached the entrance to the forest. The canopy was thick, making the passage look menacing. Bjorn wanted to test out a theory to determine a possible escape should he encounter any predators.
He placed the glass beaker down and walked up to the closest tree and sunk his claws into the trunk in an attempt to climb. His first try looked more like he really just wanted to give the tree a hug. He tried again, this time with a bit of a hop using his front arms to grab on then his hind legs to push up. He found that doing this he could climb pretty well and made it about twelve feet up the trunk. But it was too tiring to keep trying until he found water. He used his long tail to wrap around the tree trunk as an added safety precaution as he slowly descended.
Now that he had an escape should something happen he felt confident enough to enter the forest with his glass. The darkness didn¡¯t impede his vision, and he used his heightened senses to smell out the location of water. Every few minutes he would have to set the glass down and flare his tongue then continue.
He walked for a half hour until he finally picked up the taste of water in the air. He tugged at the magical connection he had to Freja just to make sure he could get back to her.
¡°We¡¯re not too far from water now,¡± Bjorn said mentally.
¡°Stop,¡± Failsafe said with a sharp edge to his tone. ¡°I think we¡¯re being hunted.¡±
Bjorn froze in place, then got low to the ground as both he and Failsafe used all of their senses to observe the area. Everything looked normal, the canopy blocked most light but a thick carpet of leaves made nearly every step crunch. He didn¡¯t smell anything but the natural musk of the forest. His tongue tasted the air and he could pick up the faintest trace of other animals; they all seemed far away. Then something jumped out at him, the taste of magic so faint he only noticed it because he was focused so intently.
¡°Run!¡± Failsafe screamed in Bjorn¡¯s head.
Bjorn picked up the beaker with his tail and took off running in the direction of the water just as something lunged out at them, so close they felt its breath. As soon as they started running the forest erupted into life. Bjorn heard the sound of several things chasing them. He didn¡¯t dare turn around; he needed absolute focus on where he was going. The last thing he needed was to trip on a root and stumble.
¡°Shadow wolves,¡± Failsafe said ¡°Go right, now,¡± Failsafe ordered right as Bjorn narrowly avoided the jaws of the leading wolf. ¡°Left-left!¡±
Bjorn quickly changed directions again and again, following Failsafe¡¯s guidance. The sound of more wolves joining in the hunt painted a grim picture, especially when the sound came from ahead. Bjorn, in a moment of desperation, turned to the nearest tree and jumped as high as he could. His claws sank into the trunk as he pulled himself up as fast as possible. It wasn¡¯t fast enough; he felt one of them bite onto his tail, sinking their teeth in deep, nearly pulling him down off the tree. The pain caused him to release the beaker, which fell to the ground.
Bjorn looked back for the first time and saw a pack of at least ten pitch-black wolves closing in. Their bodies were like optical camouflage, changing to match the shadows round them. The one that gripped his tail was already ripping at his flesh and the pain was intense. Bjorn could feel his grip on the trunk loosening; he needed to do something now or he was dead.
¡°Failsafe, poison puff, what do I do!¡± Bjorn screamed in his head. ¡°How do I use it?¡±
¡°Animal magic, remember? Just do it!¡± Failsafe responded, equally frantic.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
You can mix your venom into the air using magic, creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
Bjorn felt the single magic point he had drained from his core rise up his throat and pool in his mouth. A sickly green mist seeped out from between his clenched jaws, quickly darkening into an ominous black fog as he opened his mouth and exhaled. The mist smelled unusually sweet despite its deadly nature which seemed to curl the air. It churned like a thundercloud, crackling with malevolent energy as it spilled forth from Bjorn''s maw.
The mist poured out in a thick, relentless stream, far more than seemed possible for his small body to produce. It billowed around him, clinging to the air like a living entity in its own right. As soon as the mist touched the wolf gnawing at his tail, it whimpered in agony, releasing him instantly. The other wolves ran into the mist only to also whimper in pain and confusion as they fled in retreat. Bjorn looked around and saw the wolves back up, some of them coughing and a few started running away.
He looked out and saw they were only a few hundred feet from the water he had been tracking. It was a large swamp, the wetland cutting through the forest like a jagged scar. The mist wouldn¡¯t last long, and he had to make it to the water before it dissipated. His heart pounded in his chest as he calculated his next move, this was life and death for him and Freja.
The lizard looked back down at the wolves; they were still regrouping and obviously more wary of chasing him now that they saw he was a threat. He tugged at his familiar connection to make sure he could feel Freja¡¯s direction and he could. He could make it to the water and make it back home. That is all that mattered now.
¡°Shit,¡± Bjorn said. ¡°Hope I can swim.¡±
[8] Blood Pact
The cloud of poison was thicker than Bjorn thought it would be but now was his chance to escape. He spotted the beaker in the foliage below, which he had dropped when the wolf bit him. He flicked his tongue tasting the air, with scent alone he could accurately count the wolves even though he couldn¡¯t see them.
There were twelve in total; he could taste the confusion and fear of the toxic gas radiating from those that remained. The problem was, according to Failsafe, he would not be able to use his magic again for half a day. That¡¯s when the air changed and he could taste death. Two of the wolves were having seizures, twitching on the ground. He believed the first was the wolf that bit him and breathed in the poison the longest. The second must have been in the mist longer as well.
Bjorn wasted no time in sliding down into the mist which to him had a sickly sweet smell. He picked up the beaker with his tail again. He had to run by one of the shadow wolves in order to make it to the lake. The wolf was taken completely off guard as Bjorn bit its leg without even slowing down, pumping a lethal dose of venom into the creature.
The wolf howled in pain and turned to give chase. It didn¡¯t even make it a few yards before it started bleeding from the eyes and mouth and collapsed against a tree. Before any of the other wolves could even react, Bjorn was already jumping into the water, diving as deep as he could as quickly as possible. Surprisingly he found swimming to be quite natural for him. His instincts took over and guided him in how to properly swim with his anatomy.
He continued to swim out until he was sure he lost the shadow wolves. He floated along the surface of the water easily enough. He basked in a mission complete; now all he had to do was get back. Bjorn didn¡¯t like how close the shadow wolves were to the troll¡¯s cave. He was only about forty-five minutes walk away, and with the troll dead it was only a matter of time before they became another problem. Bjorn knew he was going to have to do something about the wolves, but that was a problem for later.
¡°I think I¡¯m a water lizard thing of some kind,¡± Bjorn thought.
¡°Yeah, you might be right,¡± Failsafe agreed. ¡°That was a close one though; let''s not do that again.¡±
¡°How did they get so close to us without us noticing them?¡± Bjorn asked. ¡°They didn¡¯t have a scent or anything.¡±
¡°Looked like shadow manipulation magic,¡± Failsafe stated. ¡°I remember the name shadow wolf so we have seen them before, but I don¡¯t remember anything else about them.¡±
The duo continued to float in the swamp, traveling far downstream to hopefully leave the shadow wolves¡¯ territory. Bjorn noticed a bask of crocodiles, dozens of snakes and other reptiles and even frogs leaving the water as he slowly floated by. He could taste the fear of him in the air as the animals seemed to be eyeing him warily.
¡°Well that is weird,¡± Bjorn stated.
¡°I think your dragon repellent works on all reptiles and amphibians by the look of it,¡± Failsafe stated with intrigue. ¡°Hmm. I¡¯m going to have to give that skill a cooler name.¡±
Bjorn asked while counting the animals he saw at the bank, ¡°That reminds me, what about our cultivation thing, did I get anything from the wolves?¡±
¡°Yes, actually we killed four of ¡®em. I saw another collapse in the Poison Puff. Also, good news, you have a healing factor,¡± Failsafe stated as if it wasn¡¯t obvious.
¡°Well, yeah of course,¡± Bjorn shrugged. ¡°I kind of guessed that since I had my internals turned into paste and am still kicking. Well, swimming in this case.¡±
Failsafe was quiet for a minute as he thought about what he was going to say. ¡°Right, of course¡ Some of the experience was used to heal your tail, but take a look at your status. Oh and-and tell me what you think about the name change for dragon repellent. I am open to some badass suggestions. I will highlight it for you,¡± he said excitedly.
Bjorn looked back at his tail where the missing scales and torn flesh had already healed. Water washed away the remaining blood.
Status Menu
Name: Bjorn Salstar
Species: Unknown
Level: 0.9
Vitality: 2
Restoration: 20
Constitution: 1
Strength: 1
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 2
Magic: 1
Magic Regeneration: 2 (+3 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Reincarnation Failsafe
An incomplete reincarnation magic and your best friend that has your back no matter what!
Venomous Bite
Magic Cost: 0
You have a neurotoxic venom which can be injected through a bite with your fangs.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
You can mix your venom into the air using magic, creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with your neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal overtime.
Familiar Pact Connection
Magic Cost: -3
As a familiar you are receiving +3 to your magic regeneration
King of the Reptiles (Whatcha think?)
Passive Skill
Dragons, lizards, amphibians all show hesitation and fear around you, going so far as to run away from you. More study needed.
Super Regeneration?
Magic Cost: 40-ish
Currently only usable if fallen beasts powers the magic, major wounds can be healed. More study needed but not recommended we try again.
Page 2 of 2
¡°Wow, a little more and we unlock more about who I was, right?¡± Bjorn asked as he looked over the status. ¡°Restoration jumped up but my vitality stayed the same?¡±
¡°The two are close in meaning but not the same. Restoration is how fast you heal, while vitality is how much life energy you have. On the same note, constitution is how durable you are physically and mentally.¡± Failsafe paused for a second. ¡°Uh, actually, I should probably change that one, how does Willpower sound for mental fortitude?¡±
¡°I think it would be fine; the more accurate these are the better I¡¯m assuming,¡± Bjorn stated.
¡°Yeah and it¡¯s also pretty fun, right? When we get stronger, probably around level ten, no, level fifteen, you should have enough mana for me to scan and calculate other people¡¯s status and skills. We¡¯ll know how strong someone is just by looking at them. Won''t that be crazy?¡±
¡°Yeah, that would be really helpful in a fight,¡± Bjorn stated as he looked over the status again. ¡°But why did the amount of mana I¡¯m getting from the familiar bond go up?¡±
¡°Huh? Oh, I didn¡¯t even notice that. Weird,¡± Failsafe admitted.¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe it¡¯s just how the bond works. It would make sense the more you two interact the stronger the bond would become.¡±
Bjorn thought about it. ¡°Strengthening the bond would eventually make it so I couldn¡¯t break it. The containment back at the academy was supposed to do that, right?¡±
¡°Yep, I imagine there¡¯s a point of no return. I will keep an eye on it so when we reach that point you can make the decision if we¡¯re going to stay or go. So what do you think of the name of the skill?¡± Failsafe asked cheerily. ¡°King of the Reptiles sounds pretty cool, right?¡±
Bjorn didn¡¯t really care about the name but thought it was a little on the nose. ¡°Well¡ it¡¯s not bad¡¡± He could feel Failsafes mood dropping. ¡°It¡¯s not bad, uh, because it¡¯s great, buddy. So-so cool.¡±
The two continued floating for a while before returning to land and immediately climbing a tree. Now that they had the beaker full of water he had to be careful as he carried it in his mouth. Bjorn wanted to look out for the shadow wolves, and now that he knew the taste of their magic he knew what to look out for. The last thing he wanted was to lead the pack to Freja.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
***
After watching his surroundings for an hour he felt it was safe to move. He climbed down and began his walk back to the cave, this time far more cautious than his arrival. It took another hour and a half for Bjorn to make it back. He wanted to give the wolves¡¯ territory as wide a berth as possible. He tasted the air as he arrived and could detect no changes, aside from the increased numbers of vultures.
He arrived back at the cave and saw Freja still lying on the ground. She was crying and didn¡¯t seem to notice him until the clacking of his talons against the cave floor roused her. She turned her head with a wince and some of her worries seemed to melt.
¡°Bjorn,¡± Freja said; her voice was weak. ¡°You really are alive. I thought I might have been hallucinating that.¡±
***
Bjorn walked up to her and proceeded to set down the swamp water. Which, of course, Freja couldn¡¯t drink as it was, unless she wanted to get sick. He went through her alchemy equipment using his talons to the best of his ability but found that simply using his mouths was far easier and quicker.
¡°Bjorn, what are you doing, baby?¡± Freja asked as she tried to get a better view from her spot without causing too much pain. ¡°Did you bring me water, h-how?¡±
Bjorn squawked affirmatively as he focused on finding the bunsen burner. Once he did he quickly ran out of the cave, leaving Freja confused. She saw the dirty water sitting next to her alchemy case and the majority of her equipment taken out and neatly organized. This just left her more confused. How did her familiar know how to do that? He is just a few days old at this point and he spent most of his time in a containment field at her former school.
¡°Is he intelligent enough to know how to boil water? Does he know I would need the water boiled?¡± Freja questioned out loud to herself. ¡°Our bond isn¡¯t even at the Iota stage yet, there is no way he¡¯s seen my memories.¡±
She continued to question what she was seeing as Bjorn returned with a few sticks in his mouth. Sure she didn¡¯t know what he was, but the fact that he was this intelligent meant he might be a True¡ something. The True were from beyond this world, much like the True Dragons, which had power beyond anything a mortal could comprehend, unlike the lesser dragons born in this world. If Bjorn was a True then she was very lucky he hadn¡¯t killed her and everyone else when he hatched.
¡°Bjorn,¡± she whispered. ¡°Can you understand me?¡±
Bjorn stopped stacking the sticks he brought and turned to face her. He nodded and squawked before running out of the cave again to gather more sticks. She didn¡¯t know what to think about that, her mind started to swim. If he was intelligent to this level he is sentient. That means their bond is illegal; it is practically a Blood Pact. Does he know that too, should she break the bond? Would it be right to have the bond influence him when he is practically another person.
She saw he was preparing a campfire and was going to use the bunsen burner as a lighter. That all but told her that he was special; he had knowledge that no regular animal born a few days ago would ever have. Where did his knowledge come from? Was he just born knowing how to survive in the woods and take care of an injured person?
She shifted a little and lifted her right hand to rub her face. The healing potion she drank was only enough to stop the bleeding and set the bones in her right ribs, arm and leg. She could feel that they were very much still fractured, possibly still broken in a few places. She was sweating profusely, which wasn¡¯t a good sign. She looked over herself as best she could and saw that her leg was swollen and red. She had an infection, one that would have to be addressed quickly or she would have to cut off the appendage.
She felt tears well up again when she saw Bjorn carry more sticks inside. Something about him trying to keep her alive filled her with hope. He was doing so much for her, so she couldn¡¯t just lay there and cry. He ran out and returned with more dry sticks and finally seemed happy with the amount he gathered. He sat them down, meticulously stacking them to start the fire. He held the burner and seemed frustrated. Freja called him so he put the device down and walked over to her. She petted him warmly.
¡°To turn on the burner you have to focus mana into the flare jewel.¡± She pointed at the metal burner. ¡°Can you do it?¡± Bjorn shook his head no. ¡°It¡¯s okay, bring it to me. It is an older model so it can be tricky. Miss Dimii, Julie and Mat all pitched in to buy it for my birthday two years ago.¡± Bjorn went and picked up the burner then returned to Freja, placing it next to her. ¡°I was never really all that great at magic, but alchemy¡ I thought if I got really good at alchemy then maybe dad or mom would¡ I don¡¯t know. Like me. We see where that got me, huh?¡±
She placed her hand near the burner and spoke the words of power, expecting it to take a few tries as it always did. As she did she felt her magic core within her and stopped. She examined herself internally, circulating magic in her core and felt that it had changed. Her magic had always been an unruly mess she couldn¡¯t control. Her magic core was an anomaly no one could explain so they labeled her a wizard.
When she examined her core she felt the familiar bond had grown significantly and had begun to unravel her magic in a way she¡¯d never felt. Normally she would only feel chaos but this time she felt that beneath the chaos was very pure and very malleable mana. She decided to tap into it even more and felt something click in the core of her being, and all of a sudden a screen appeared in front of her.
Status Menu
Name: Freja Thundersky Salstar
Species: Wendigo
Level: 7
Vitality:9
Restoration: 2
Constitution: 2
Willpower: 8
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 4
Stamina: 2
Magic: 16
Magic Regeneration: 25 (+3 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Familiar Contract
You are bonded with a named familiar. You gain +3 magic regeneration.
Mystic Wind Hands
Magic cost: 3
Speak the words of power and call forth the mystic hands created from the wind. These hands can interact with the world and will act out the caster¡¯s will.
Mana Manipulation
Magic cost: Variable
Manipulate the pure mana inside and around your body. Allows you to circulate your mana and use mana-dependent tools.
Mana Muscle Saturation
Magic cost: 1
Push your mana into your muscles and bones to temporarily increase your physical attributes.
Page 2 of 2
Freja looked at Bjorn, who watched her expectantly. She held her hand to the burner again and focused her mana. It flowed at her command in a way she¡¯d never felt before. She watched the flare stone ignite instantly and tears came to her eyes again. She had done it with ease, like a normal person. Like a mage would have, like Mat or Julie or anyone else. All it took was her dying in a cave to finally get there.
Bjorn watched her for a moment, so she reached out her hand and petted him again.
¡°I am okay, you can start the fire. Be careful not to burn yourself,¡± she said as a pained smile graced her lips. ¡°Thank you, Bjorn.¡±
She watched as Bjorn carefully picked up the burner and stood up rather awkwardly on his hind legs as he waddled over to the sticks and lit them. He placed the beaker with the water close enough to the fire to heat up. He then returned to Freja, laying down beside her and watching the fire as it crackled. They just laid there for a while, listening to the sound of the fire.
¡°Bjorn.¡± Freja broke the silence, her voice raspy. ¡°I can make a healing potion with my alchemy supplies, but I will need a few things. I don¡¯t know if you understand everything but I am dying. I have an infection in my leg. I will have to cure that first but do you think you can get the ingredients for me if I show you what I need?¡±
Bjorn¡¯s head rose immediately and he squawked. She directed him to one of the books, a Florea which contained a large compendium of herbs and other plants. He had to help her sit up against the cave wall which was painful, but she needed to endure. She was going to survive this and figure everything else out after. She went over the plants she would need with Bjorn, showing him the pictures. Fleron root, dorma bulbs and shade caps were all she would need for a basic herbal healing potion. Then the jora mushroom and fell-moss for the infection.
The infection would take one concentrated dose to heal but she was on a race against time. If things progressed too far she would have to find a way to cut the leg off. The idea was sickening to her so she turned her attention to the herbal health potions. They would take many doses over the course of a week to heal completely, but she would be able to walk in a few days. She needed to keep her mind on the positives if she wanted to survive.
Freja was surprised at how responsive the lizard was; she could tell that there was real intelligence behind his eyes. That made her wonder even more what he could be. The summoning she performed was a basic one that should have only pulled something from their world, not reached into the Higher Planes. She was sure that wasn¡¯t even possible to do in the first place especially for Mat. He was a student not a master or grandmaster of spellcraft. If Bjorn was a True then why would he help her? He could easily break the familiar contract, kill and eat her then go off to gain power. If he wasn''t, why had she never heard of his species before?
¡°Bjorn, do you know what you are? We tried to look up your species in the library but no luck,¡± Freja asked, and Bjorn shook his head no. ¡°Hmm.¡± She trembled a little at the next question. ¡°Do you hate me for summoning you here away from wherever you¡¯re from? I can break the bond, it¡¯s not right to have it if you are¡ sentient like this. You could go and leave me to my fate.¡± He shook his head again and Freja let out a breath she didn''t know she was holding. ¡°Thank you.¡±
Freja needed to prepare; she reached for the wand she had at her side only to find it missing. She remembered when the troll attacked her she¡¯d had it in her hand; she must have lost it when she was nearly killed. Her wand wasn¡¯t anything special but it was the only gift she¡¯d ever received from her mother before they found out she was a wizard and not a mage, before they started to treat her differently.
She focused her magic, using her left hand to draw out the formula in the air while speaking the words of power for the Wind Hands spell. Her magic bent to her will far easier than she had ever known, and without even trying she had two substantial wind hands floating above her. The mana flowed so easily she barely realized that she cast the spell at all. She examined her mana core again and could feel the framework of the spell.
¡°Before you go,¡± Freja said. She directed the hands to grab one of her bags and tie it to Bjorn¡¯s back. ¡°Please be safe, baby.¡±
She gave him another beaker to fill with water and placed it in the bag. Bjorn left shortly after in search of the materials. Freja grit her teeth and looked at the incomplete set up of her alchemy equipment. With a thought the Mystic Wind Hands got to work setting up the lab that would soon be her salvation. She knew without a shadow of a doubt she was not going to die here. She was going to live even if it was just to spite the people that put her there.
¡°I will survive this,¡± Freja said to herself. ¡°Fuck you Ulfar.¡±
[9] Not Going To Talk About It
Bjorn had one final look back at the cave before exiting. Freja seemed to be taking everything in stride; she wanted to live and Bjorn also didn¡¯t want the young woman to die. He didn¡¯t know how much of his concern was genuine and how much came from the familiar bond but it didn¡¯t matter. Something about Freja resonated with him beyond the influence of the bond. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he had a daughter in his previous life. He can¡¯t remember her if he did but there was something there.
He was surprised at how well she was holding up. She was from a noble house, a lady of class, but she seemed to have dedicated herself to survival no matter what. He imagined anyone else her age and in her position would have broken down and been paralyzed with grief, but not her.
He marched out, flicking his tongue to taste for any predators nearby. Once the coast was clear he continued on his journey. This time he wanted to take a different route to the swamp to avoid the wolves'' territory. He still had at least seven hours before he could use his magic again which left fleeing his only option.
Several of the plants he was looking for grew in grassland not dark forest so he would take a long detour around the woodland following the tall grass. He felt more confident in it since he could hide if necessary. He had to use scent and the familiar bond constantly pointing to Freja to keep himself from getting lost in the tall gently swaying grass.
¡°Freja¡¯s wind magic has gotten much stronger, did you notice?¡± Failsafe asked absently.
¡°It was an improvement from what we saw at the academy,¡± Bjorn agreed as he flicked his tongue and altered his course slightly. ¡°Why bring it up suddenly?¡±
¡°Well, I think she may have finally realized what our magic did to her,¡± Failsafe stated. ¡°While the familiar contract is helping stabilize her magic, what her body copied from me is organizing it in a way that is helping her with control.¡±
¡°Yeah, and as she grows in magic we do too,¡± Bjorn added. ¡°The more her mana is refined and amplified the more we get from her. She also seems to be okay with the fact that I can understand her.¡±
¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she may think that you are a True of some kind. I mean, I would too if I were her,¡± Failsafe said. ¡°I thought she was going to freak out or think she was going insane. She might be in shock so maybe try not to do anything too mind shattering around her.¡±
¡°Well, as soon as we get enough magic and I can talk, we¡¯ll clear all that up,¡± Bjorn responded. ¡°And she isn¡¯t human so maybe they are more resistant to mental trauma.¡±
¡°What if you are a True? We¡¯re going to unlock a small fragment of your memories soon. What if we find out this creature you reincarnated as is one,¡± Failsafe stated thoughtfully. ¡°When you¡¯re a few hundred years older you will literally be one of the most powerful entities in this plane. Freja will be too, if she lives that long. Or rather, if you keep the familiar contract. Both of you might be pulled into the Higher Planes.¡±
¡°That¡¯s thinking so far ahead it doesn¡¯t even matter,¡± Bjorn said. ¡°Right now we need to focus on getting out of this forest alive. The shadow wolves will expand their territory now that the troll is dead, and we¡¯re at least a week or two away from being able to leave.¡±
¡°Right-right. I¡¯m just excited about being that powerful. I have a vague image of you before you died, but you would have been limited by the fact that you were mortal. Being a True would mean not only will we inevitably reach that level of power again, but we¡¯ll grow far beyond it.¡±
¡°If I am one that would make you obsolete. I will live forever so why have a reincarnation system?¡± Bjorn asked as he flicked his tongue, tasting the air for the direction of the water. ¡°See, it¡¯s better to think about what we have going on right now.¡±
¡°Oh, right¡¡± Failsafe thought about it for a long while. ¡°That just means I get to hang out with you forever then, so that¡¯s okay.¡±
¡°Hmm, isn¡¯t this one of the flowers.¡± Bjorn stopped and saw a cluster of yellow flowering weeds in the grassland. ¡°This is it, right?¡±
¡°It matches the description of the dorma plant. We need to get the bulbs of this one.¡± Failsafe agreed.
Bjorn dug up the plant¡¯s bulbs which weren¡¯t too deep under the surface but he quickly found that he is not the best at digging. It wasn¡¯t a problem since the bulbs were only a few inches in the soil but he knew he would have a harder time with fleron root when he got to the swampy area. He could easily place things in the bag Freja had tied to him.
He continued traveling further out and away from the forest when he stumbled across more of the dorma and even a few of the shade caps.
¡°All we need for the herbal potion now is the fleron roots.¡± Bjorn said. ¡°Before heading towards the swamp let''s go out a little more.¡±
***
After a while Bjorn picked up the scent of smoke. There were also the faint taste of people, other¡¯s of Freja¡¯s species. The grass was too high for Bjorn to see them but he could make out the direction thanks to the scent. More people meant he could get Freja the help she needed. He pushed his way through the grass until it finally broke into a pasture.
Bjorn stopped and lowered himself to the ground as the new scent hit him like a bucket of cold water. It was the all too familiar scent of death and it permeated everything. There was a small village not too far away on the other side of the pasture that contained the rotting corpses of long deceased bovines. There was a single fire burning in the village, but there wasn¡¯t any sign of life.
The homes were simple wood and thatch and there weren¡¯t many that Bjorn could see. There was a strange magic being carried in the wind that set off alarms in Bjorn¡¯s animal instincts. The magic even seemed to be in the ground causing plants to grow faster. They accelerated to the point that even in the short time Bjorn had been there he saw a single sprout grow into a sapling at the edge of the village.
¡°Well, that¡¯s ominous.¡± Bjorn said.
¡°And we have to go too.¡± Failsafe sighed.
¡°Why, I don¡¯t think we should.¡± Bjorn responded. ¡°Look at that place it is giving me bad vibes.¡±
¡°Look at the walls of that first house. You see what I see, right?¡± Failsafe said.
Bjorn saw the green moss growing at an accelerated rate on the side of one of the houses. With the exponential growth of plant life there were bound to be the mushrooms they needed in some dark crevice in the village. Honestly, Bjorn''s bad feeling didn¡¯t subside at the discovery. Maybe if he saw a single person and not just a field of hundreds of dead cows he would feel better about going there. As it stood it seemed more and more like a dumb idea.
¡°We¡¯ll come back if we need to. We haven¡¯t checked the forest for the moss or the mushrooms.¡± His eyes lingered on the carcases. ¡°Hopefully we don¡¯t have to come back here.¡±
***
Bjorn was on his second trip back to the swamp, taking the longer route around the shadow wolves¡¯ territory. He had the goal of hunting a few snakes and lizards since they would leave the water in fear of him. He also needed to find the last of the ingredients for Freja¡¯s health potions and antibiotics. The first two ingredients luckily grew in the grassland, but the last three he needed grew closer to water sources and shade. They stopped at every mushroom they found and closely examined it but had no luck, the same with the moss.
The water came into view and Bjorn immediately went to fill the beaker, thankfully this one had a lid and he could put it back in the bag. As he approached the water he could see reptiles avoiding him and tasted fear in the air. He would have to focus on that later, when it was time to hunt.
Fleron was a small blue-green flowering plant with feathery leaves. He needed to dig some up for its roots.
The first time he was there he was so on edge he hadn¡¯t even had the time to appreciate the beauty of the wetland. Now that he wasn''t being chased he could really use his heightened senses and keen awareness to experience the world in a whole new way. While he kept a constant lookout for the taste of shadow wolves¡¯ magic, he also came across a vast array of natural scents and tastes.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The muddy ground gave a little under the weight of his paws, and a break in the trees allowed the area to glow with a myriad of greens and browns. A few trees grew out of the water; life magics seeped out from their branches into the ambiance of the air. Moss grew in drapes across the ancient woodland though none of it was what he was looking for, and a sense of untouched nature threatened to cause Bjorn to drop his guard and just take it all in.
After climbing over the gnarled roots of an ancient tree he finally came across the first plant that looked similar to the image Freja had shown him. His journey took him dangerously close to the shadow wolf territory, but he didn¡¯t have a choice. As soon as he collected the plants he would swim back so they couldn¡¯t track his scent if they tried.
***
Bjorn knew that digging up the fleron root was going to be a pain and he was right. Digging already sucked without having to contend with the mud and water trying to rebury his progress as soon as he made it. He was working diligently to uncover his third fleron cluster; each of them had been a hassle to claw up from the mud. The roots of the plant were connected to a bulb the size of a green onion, and they grew in small clusters of about four or five. Worst still he had to keep a constant look out for any signs of the shadow wolves. He¡¯d been at the swamp for three hours and he still had to hunt something before going back to the creepy village to collect the moss.
¡°All that¡¯s left is to find something we can catch really quick,¡± Bjorn said mentally to Failsafe as he placed the fleron cluster in the bag. ¡°This is going well.¡±
¡°What did you have in mind?¡± Failsafe asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on several snakes and lizards.¡±
¡°We¡¯ll kill a few snakes,¡± Bjorn said thoughtfully as he turned to look at the sky. ¡°We should be able to carry them easily enough. We need to hurry though; it¡¯ll be getting late by the time we return.¡±
Failsafe easily guided Bjorn to the scent of the snakes, the magic construct being well attuned to Bjorn¡¯s senses. The coiled up brown serpent was almost invisible amongst the dead vegetation and fallen leaves. If not for the strong taste of fear in the air Bjorn would have missed the creature altogether. As he approached the snake opened its mouth, revealing its fangs in an attempt to dissuade him from getting any closer. Of course it didn¡¯t work, and the snake continued to coil in preparation for a strike.
In the blink of an eye the snake lunged forward, only for Bjorn to catch it mid-strike between his jaws and bite down on its head. The iron tang of blood mixed in his mouth, and the snake hung limp. He found the taste oddly pleasant, even more so than the cooked meat they¡¯d fed him at the academy. Something about the fresh kill and blood spoke to his instincts. Nevertheless, he needed to catch a few more and would eat a couple before returning.
***
Bjorn found himself hiding at the edge of what he assumed was once a thriving village. There was still a single faint spire of smoke flowing up from some unseen fire in the middle of the village. The place was barely recognizable even from just a few hours ago. Nature had reclaimed the village, new growth had spread rapidly and tore up the roads and crawled up buildings. The air was thick with the stench of decay, so potent that he could taste it at the back of his throat¡ªa mingling of rot and something darker lurking just out of sight.
The pasture was a macabre mix of bone and rotten flesh from the cattle that had inexplicably died en masse. The carcasses of livestock strewn about, bloated and festering. Flies buzzed around the putrid remains, their droning the only sound in the oppressive silence. There was no sign of the villagers, not a single soul. No other animal went near the village and even the normal carrion feeders had not come to eat the feast of dead flesh which made Bjorn want to turn around all the more.
¡°We¡¯ll get in, get the moss, look for any sign of the mushrooms and get out.¡± Bjorn said to himself.
¡°And not die!¡± Failsafe added.
Bjorn sighed, he was trying not to think about death. ¡°Yeah, buddy, of course. And not die. Top of the list.¡±
He slowly walked towards the village, staying as slow to the ground as he possibly could. The closer he got the more he could taste the nature magic suffusing the area. It was everywhere in the ground, air and especially the plants. It didn¡¯t seem benign or malevolent, just a presence, like it was part of the world just twisted in some strange way.
He could tell that it wasn¡¯t natural, the ambiance of the world had a neutral flavor to his scenes. This was the work of something or someone and Bjorn didn¡¯t want to find out what. After what felt like an eternity of crawling a few feet, stopping, listening and tasting for changes in the environment, he finally reached the wall with the moss.
¡°That''s it,¡± Failsafe whispered, despite only Bjorn being able to hear him.
¡°Okay now for the mushrooms.¡± Bjorn responded just as softly in his head. ¡°Let''s look for a cellar or something.¡±
Bjorn scraped some of the moss down off the wall as quietly as he could. Then stuffed it into his bag with a sigh of relief. Once he was done he listened out for any changes. After he decided it was safe, he crawled along the house sticking as close to the shadows as he could. The new growth around the village made sneaking harder as he had to push his way through brush that grew through the dirt road and tall grasses everywhere else.
After a few minutes of sticking to mainly the outskirts of the village he finally decided to go deeper. There weren¡¯t many houses in the village but he did find a stable that had a cellar door. He opened it just enough to get inside and disappeared into the darkness.
There were no lights inside but he could see in the dark so there wasn¡¯t any issue.The space was humid and bursting at the seams with fungus thanks to the odd magic causing things to grow so rapidly. Bjorn and Failsafe had to very carefully identify each mushroom they found in comparison to the description Freja read and picture she showed them. Luckily, Failsafe had a perfect memory which made finding the right ones easy.
They escaped the cellar and were on their way out of the village when Bjorn heard movement. He quickly looked around using all of his senses to determine if he had been spotted and he needed to run. Then he heard the sound again, the sound of something being dragged. Bjorn crouched low behind a thick bush, his breath shallow as his heart beat quickly in his chest. Then a creature slowly meandered from one of the houses.
Bjorn didn¡¯t know what he was looking at, it, whatever it could be, was collecting the dismembered corpses of the villagers. The grotesque humanoid creature was a mockery of life despite the life giving nature magic flowing from it like a waterfall. The creature itself was barely held together by the very magic that seemed to pulse with each shuddering step it took. Its once-mossy robes, now tattered and filthy, clung to a body that was more wood than flesh.
One antler jutted from its skull, not quite the same type of antler as Freja¡¯s race, the other snapped off, leaving only a jagged stump. Its face was a patchwork of living wood and decayed flesh, with parts of its skull visible where the skin had rotted away. The creature¡¯s right arm and left leg were crude prosthetics, fashioned from twisted living branches that creaked with every movement. Meanwhile its torso was a mess of splintered wood and festering wounds. It leaned heavily on a gnarled staff, each step accompanied by the sickening sound of old wounds tearing open, fresh blood seeping through the makeshift repairs.
Its free arm was dragging the top half of a long dead man. Blood stained the path the creature walked in a crimson wash. Bjorn mistakenly looked up to see where it was going when he saw what had happened to the villagers. Bodies were strung up in the trees held in place with vines and branches as their blood fed the plants below.
¡°Bjorn! What in the Infernal Planes are you doing? Run run run!¡± Failsafe screamed getting louder with each word.
Bjorn snapped out of his stupor and looked down at the creature. It had stopped walking and turned its head around to stare him in the eyes. The creature raised its staff and began chanting a spell, its voice a horrifying facsimile of a human male. Bjorn turned and ran right as roots spiked out of the ground where he had been a moment before. He didn¡¯t turn around to see if he was being followed instead he pulled on the single point of mana he had and unleashed Poison Puff to make sure he couldn¡¯t be followed.
Bjorn spent a few hours in the forest looking out for any signs of being hunted before deciding to return to Freja. He didn¡¯t know what that creature was but it had killed a village of people and strung them up like decorations. He was going to stay as far from there as possible. The cave was in sight and night was approaching fast. The rot of the troll and the ever-increasing flock of vultures meant not much had changed. The last sprinkling of light faded as they reached the cave mouth.
¡°So we aren¡¯t going to talk about that, right?¡± Failsafe said.
¡°No-no we are not.¡± Bjorn agreed. ¡°We got what we needed. So, Freja heals herself and we get out of this Infernal Plane cursed forest as soon as possible.¡±
¡°Do we even know if Freja eats meat?¡± Failsafe asked as they entered the cave, glad to change the conversation. ¡°I mean she does have antlers like a deer, what if she¡¯s vegetarian?¡±
¡°You have a point. I don¡¯t know. Well, if we bring her animal corpses she¡¯ll either cook and eat them, or send us to find something she can eat,¡± Bjorn responded, thinking back and realizing he¡¯d never seen her eat before.
Freja was asleep when he arrived, but the sound of his claws clacking against the rock floor roused her. The fire was little more than embers but the stack of firewood had decreased. Freja must have been using wind hands to keep it going. She greeted Bjorn with a pained but genuine smile and inquired about the trip. He presented her with the bag on his back which was full of all the ingredients and three snake corpses. She examined the roots while Bjorn placed the water near the embers and replaced the wood, restarting the fire.
¡°Bjorn, did you kill these with your venom?¡± Freja asked, looking at the snakes.
Bjorn shook his head and continued to stoke the fire when he heard crunching behind him. He looked, and to his surprise Freja was eating one of the snakes raw, scales and all. He¡¯d never noticed before but her teeth weren¡¯t that of a herbivore or really even an omnivore. They were sharp and she had eight canine teeth, four top and four bottom to drive the point home. Freja¡¯s species was most certainly not vegetarians. She seemed more comfortable eating the snake raw than he did.
Failsafe said mentally to Bjorn, ¡°I think we know what she eats now.¡±
Freja picked up the second snake and opened her mouth, ready to bite when she noticed Bjorn watching her. She lowered it, slightly embarrassed.
¡°What?¡± she asked as she looked between Bjorn and the snake. ¡°Were these for you?¡±
[10] Clearly Suited For Land
When Ingrid towered over Freja¡¯s body broken and bloody, a twisted sense of satisfaction bubbled up from the depths of her heart. She had waited for this moment, for the chance to see the source of her shame finally pulled out by the root. As she looked down at the girl, there was no pity, no sorrow¡ªonly a dark, and calculated satisfaction. At last, Freja was getting what she deserved: death.
¡°I am surprised. You are still conscious.¡± Ingrid said she kept her tone sharp and to the point. ¡°However pathetically you won, you still won. I will keep up my promise.¡±
Ingrid walked to her husband and nodded. She had to keep her appearance neutral and proper as she watched in glee as Ulfar gave her the customary gifts for a Shai. Useless, Ingrid thought. Freja wouldn¡¯t survive her injuries, and these formalities were nothing more than hollow gestures. The girl had lost everything, and now the only thing left was to let her die. It didn¡¯t matter though this was already more than the failure deserved and she would put this whole debacle to the back of her mind. Freja wasn¡¯t worth remembering.
She looked down at her son who stood at her side. He was the heir now, the next to take the name Salstar through the generations. She wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, but that part of her role was over. He wasn¡¯t hers anymore. He was the heir to the name Salstar, and it was Ulfar¡¯s task to mold him into a leader. Still, Ingrid couldn''t ignore the flicker of pride she felt. He was strong, smarter than Freja ever had been. He would never shame them the way she had.
¡°Watch your father closely, Ragnar.¡± Ingrid said with a smile. ¡°This is the duty of a Patriarch.¡±
Ragnar nodded, but Ingrid could see the hesitation in his eyes. He was observing, as he should be, but there was something else¡ªa softness, a flicker of something unspoken. He turned his gaze from Ulfar to Freja¡¯s broken body, his expression faltering. He looked conflicted for a moment before trying to harden his expression.
Ingrid''s jaw clenched. The flicker of concern in Ragnar¡¯s eyes gnawed at her. It was weakness, yes¡ªbut it was also something she couldn¡¯t quite name. She hated it. Hated that he felt anything at all for the girl who had failed them. She had to trust that Ulfar would root out that softness.
She could see it¡ªthe worry in his eyes, the unspoken question hanging in the air. The same weakness that Freja had once shown. She wanted to snap at him, to tell him this was how things were supposed to be. But no, Ingrid could not speak those words. She couldn¡¯t let him see her own frustrations, her own joy in this outcome. It wasn¡¯t her place anymore. He was still her son, though, and in that moment, she wanted to harden him. To show him that this was how the world worked, that Freja had earned this end, that it was necessary.
¡°Mom. Is she going to die?¡± Ragnar whispered his voice caught in his throat.
For a brief moment, Ingrid almost softened. She almost reached for him, almost allowed herself to be his mother again, but she stopped herself.
¡°What happens to her next is not our concern,¡± she said coldly, cutting off any chance for sentimentality. ¡°As heir, refer to me as Ingrid, not mom. Now watch.¡±
***
Days had past and Ingrid stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, where the sun dipped below the mountains, casting the land in an ever darkening shadow. The chill in the air mirrored the icy grip that had taken hold of her heart for the past century. Noble houses in Yuhia were only as prestigious as the strength of their Patriarch or Matriarch. In a society where power dictated all, her role was to stand beside the mightiest, a position she had earned through blood and steel. The Salstar name was synonymous with power, and Ingrid had fought with every fiber of her being to be a part of it, to be with Ulfar, the most powerful starlight mage in the kingdom. Together, they were the Sword and the Shield of their house.
Yet, beneath the surface of that illustrious legacy lay the bitter truth of her greatest failure¡ªFreja. She did not know if she was dead yet but it didn¡¯t calm her mind.
Helga, her firstborn, had been a beacon, her potential in starlight magic shining even brighter than Ulfar¡¯s. However, that light was snuffed out too soon, leaving a void that no other could fill. Then came Freja, the embodiment of every nightmare Ingrid had ever harbored. A daughter born without the gift, without the strength that was their birthright. Freja was a stain on the Salstar name, a constant reminder of Ingrid''s inability to bring forth greatness in every child she bore. The thought¡¯s still sickened her, the idea that she, Ingrid Salstar, gave birth to her like some sick joke.
Ulfar had changed after Freja was confirmed to be a wizard, of all things. The love that once burned in his eyes when he looked at Ingrid was replaced with cold duty. When he laid with her, it was not out of love or passion, but an obligation to erase the mistake she had brought into the world. Freja had driven a wedge between them, and every moment with Ulfar became a painful reminder that she was ultimately to blame.
Ragnar was her redemption, her precious son who proved that she could still produce greatness, that the Salstar blood was not tainted beyond repair. Even Eira, with her laziness, showed promise that Freja could never hope to match. The shame of Freja¡¯s existence lingered like a festering wound, a cancer that threatened to rot away everything Ingrid had built until finally she was cast out.
Ingrid sighed as she turned from the twilight outside her window. The fading light cast long shadows across her room, caressing the edges of her red silk robe as it draped lazily over her form. The dwindling light danced across her fair skin and alluring form. She knew Ulfar wouldn¡¯t be seeing her that night; he hadn''t slept in the same room as her in a decade, not since Eira turned two. Although she wanted to give him more children it was his decision as Patriarch. Now he would be too busy as he needed to train Ragnar as the next heir of the family.
Ingrid knew her role¡ªshe was the Sword of Salstar, destined to spill blood in the name of her family and her kingdom. She would be leaving soon anyway, trouble was brewing in a nearby domain and the First Prince would unleash her on their enemies. She was the Sword after all and there was blood that needed to be spilt. She ran her hands across her bed as she laid down, sinking into the familiar comfort of her sheets, only to be pulled from her thoughts by a hesitant knock at the door.
¡°Enter.¡± Ingrid said bemused but curious.
The door creaked open, revealing a small, timid figure. Eira, with her downcast eyes and shy demeanor, stepped into the room. The girl¡¯s brown skin, the result of Ingrid¡¯s snowfallen heritage mixed with Ulfar¡¯s nighthand lineage, made her a perfect blend of her parents. She was a woodentail wendigo, a darker-skinned mirror image of Ingrid¡¯s younger self, yet there was a softness in her that Ingrid recognized as a vulnerability.
¡°Eira? What is wrong my L¨ªtill Svere?¡± Ingrid asked softly, her tone softening in a way that it rarely did.
The stern warrior fa?ade melted away at the sight of the small girl. Eira looked like she was just caught doing something she shouldn¡¯t have. Ingrid believed in strength above all else and one day her daughter too would be made strong. She would be the Sword when Ingrid no longer could kill in the name of the family. One day Eira would be put through the fires of battle and blood as all Salstar¡¯s before her, but at least for now she can be spoiled a little bit.
Ingrid sighed, she was the Sword, yes, but right now, she had to be a mother¡ªa mother to a daughter who deserved her love and protection, not the cold indifference she had shown to another.
¡°Come on, you can sleep with me.¡± Ingrid offered, patting the bed beside her.
Eira¡¯s face brightened instantly. She scrambled onto the bed, her small form diving under the covers with a giggle. ¡°Thanks mom!¡±
Ingrid tucked in her daughter and nuzzled Eira gently, a tender gesture of affection for wendigo.
¡°Goodnight my L¨ªtill Svere.¡± Ingrid whispered. Here, in this brief, tender moment, she was simply a mother, and that was enough.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
***
Freja pulled the empty beaker from her lips as the herbal health potion slid down her throat. She screamed through gritted teeth, her voice raw from days of enduring agony. Every nerve in her body felt like it was being scorched, as if hot coals were being dragged across her flesh. Everything burned as the herbal health potion ran its course and forced her body to repair itself ever so slightly faster. It was her third day trapped in this cold, damp cave, and the fourth dose of the potion had brought only marginal relief after a wave of intense pain. There was still constant thrumming in her chest and leg.
Her only saving grace was Bjorn. He was the only reason she hadn¡¯t succumbed to despair. Day in and day out there was only her, Bjorn and pain. He wasn¡¯t giving up on her, everyday he patrolled the cave, went out and found water, even hunted to feed her. She couldn¡¯t just let all his effort go to waste. The pain was excruciating, but it wouldn¡¯t break her. She had someone who believed in her, someone who cared when no one else did. There was no room for surrender, no space for the pain to win. She was going to survive and they were going to finally get out of this place.
Bjorn returned to the cave with a large stick; it was the second one that she had requested. He placed it beside the other while she spoke the words of power to create the Mystic Wind Hands.
¡°Good job, Bjorn,¡± Freja said after the spell was completed.
He assisted Freja in making a splint for her leg. She had to sacrifice a few garments, namely her bloodied outfit that was already torn to shreds by the troll. The Mystic Wind Hands lined up the sticks and even carefully wrapped the torn fabric to secure them in place. Freja had to use the wall and Bjorn to finally stand for the first time since she was abandoned.
¡°Look-look! I am standing.¡± She said with a smile.
It was a small victory but she needed as many small victories as possible to keep sane. To keep the dark thoughts of just using a bit too much of one ingredient in her next potion and killing herself to end the agony. It wouldn¡¯t even be difficult to make it lethal. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as Bjorn joined in her mini celebration by jumping around and squawking. She couldn¡¯t help but think about how adorable the familiar looked. The pain was manageable but she couldn¡¯t put much weight on her leg. She used the wall for balance as she walked out to the open air. She was hoping for a breath of clean air but ended up gagging immediately.
She dry heaved a few times. ¡°Oh, Forest Father above, that smells terrible!¡±
She was disappointed that the air outside smelled worse than the musky cave. The troll''s body was still decomposing and the flock of vultures were taking their time getting through the thick hide to the meat underneath.
Freja pinched her nose to block the smell. ¡°Let¡¯s take a short walk away from here. I am tired of smelling that thing¡ or the cave.¡±
Freja kept a hand on the rock face for balance as she limped along the crag. Bjorn was ever vigilant as they moved just a few yards away from the cave. She wanted to know how far she could go so she carefully shifted her weight and counted each step. She knew the sooner she could really move the better testing her limits was important. The results were promising in that she could make it twenty five yards before the pain forced her to stop. It wasn¡¯t as far as she wanted, recovery was going slower than she hoped, but from a shattered leg to this was a major improvement.
After a few agonizing minutes, Freja collapsed against the stony wall, drenched in sweat. Bjorn had parched himself on a boulder closeby keeping a lookout for something she couldn¡¯t see, it made her uneasy. She couldn¡¯t tell if he was responding to an actual threat or simply acting as her guardian.
He hadn¡¯t come back to the cave injured any of the times he went out so she assumed there were no predators in the area. Then the thought crossed her, he had a healing factor which meant that if he did fight something it might have been healed before he got back.
He had killed a troll on his own¡ªsomething no ordinary creature could manage, especially one so young. If there were others like it out there, or worse, a magic beast lurking in the forest, she wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. Trolls usually traveled in groups called clans led by an alpha male, yet the one they had faced was alone. Was it because it was a beta, or was it searching for mates?
Freja looked at the dark forest opposite of the crag. It suddenly seemed far more sinister, she wasn¡¯t anywhere near civilization out here, so one wrong move for her was death. No teachers, no family, no guards to protect her¡ªjust her and Bjorn. She was one accident away from being one with the Forest Father.
Alright, I am alone except for Bjorn. I am not going to leave the only safe place I have until I know I can at least run without my leg breaking under me.
¡°Bjorn!¡± Freja called. ¡°I am ready to go back. Can you help me get up?¡±
***
¡°I don¡¯t think I can carry an entire alligator.¡± Bjorn said in his head. ¡°Maybe if I find a young one but it would be too much of a hassle.¡±
¡°But if we got one you wouldn¡¯t have to hunt so much.¡± Failsafe said.
Bjorn had returned to the swamp to collect more water and hunt. He swam slowly through the water swaying his long body with a gentle grace. He had to go a different route this time to make it, he wanted to stay as far away from the wolves and whatever that half-wood-half-corpse creature was in the village. The new path was actually quite peaceful and he planned to take Freja when she was finally ready to move.
¡°But I would have to kill it without my venom and I don¡¯t think I have the bite strength to win that confrontation without it.¡± Bjorn said.
¡°Oh yeah, I kind of forgot we wouldn¡¯t be able to use venom.¡± Failsafe said. ¡°Well we can at least go after bigger snakes.¡±
¡°That¡¯s something I can agree with.¡± Bjorn said as he climbed out of the water on the roots of a large cypress tree. ¡°Maybe I should try to catch a fish or two while we are here this time. Swimming came so naturally to me I think I can move pretty fast, maybe I could catch one.¡±
¡°Well this is your body now, I think you should learn your limitations. It will help me analyze you too.¡± Failsafe said.
Bjorn took another look around his surroundings for any potential predators trying to sneak up on him. Once he confirmed he was safe with a few flicks of the tongue he stuck his head and upper half of his body into the water. The cool liquid enveloped him, and he blinked, activating the thin membrane that shielded his eyes from the water¡¯s abrasive particles. As he submerged, his senses shifted, becoming attuned to the underwater world in ways he was still learning to understand.
A strange, new awareness blossomed in his mind, allowing him to perceive even the tiniest movements around him. It was as if the water itself whispered secrets to him, revealing the location of every fish, every ripple, every disturbance in the environment. He could sense the flow of the currents, the shifting of sediment on the swamp floor, and the subtle vibrations of life forms moving in the depths.
After a dozen or so minutes he resurfaced to take a breath although he felt as though he could have stayed under much longer. He really just wanted to look around and make sure he was still safe. He scanned the area again, this time with a heightened sense of vigilance. A flick of his tongue caught a taste in the air that made him freeze. It was the strong nature magic he had associated with the odd monster that wiped out the village. Why was it there? Did it track him here? He slowly lowered himself fully into the water when he noticed the swamp had fallen into an eerie silence.
¡°Is that what I think it is?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Yep, we need to get out of here.¡± Failsafe replied, the urgency clear in his tone.
¡°Do you think it was tracking me? We can¡¯t lead it to Freja. She¡¯s not ready to move yet.¡± Bjorn said.
¡°I am not saying we take it with us just that we get out of this place before it finds us again.¡± Failsafe said.
Bjorn submerged all but the top of his head so he could so he could keep an eye on his surroundings. After floating for a while he saw the creature between the trees. It was unmistakable from any other being Bjorn had encountered so far. It was drinking water from the edge of the muddy shore.
Bjorn let out an internal sigh of relief, it hadn¡¯t been tracking him, it came to slake its thrust. That solace was tempered by the sobering realization that such a dangerous beast was in the area. Staying hidden and moving carefully was more crucial than ever. There was still the possibility it could wander in the direction of the troll cave. Maybe the only reason it hadn¡¯t come this far was because of the troll and with it dead it could be expanding its territory.
Since he knew where the creature was he dove under water putting as much distance between him and it as possible. His new sense of spatial awareness guided him, allowing him to avoid obstacles without needing to surface. He swam along the bottom of the swamp¡¯s tangle of murky water and dense plantlife, not coming up again for air until he was sure he was well out of the range of the nature monster.
It wasn¡¯t until he felt he had covered enough ground that he resurfaced, carefully emerging between the mesh roots of a cypress tree. The swamp was alive with sound again, the insects buzzing and the birds singing, a good sign that he was out of the creature¡¯s immediate influence. Bjorn listened to the swamp''s familiar chorus as he drifted along for a few tense moments just to make sure he wasn¡¯t followed.
¡°That was over thirty minutes submerged.¡± Failsafe noted, a hint of amazement in his voice.
¡°Was it, I could have stayed under for much longer.¡± Bjorn replied, flicking his tongue to survey the area. The swamp¡¯s earthy, pungent scent filled his senses, but there was no trace of the creature. ¡°I am an aquatic lizard of some kind, right?¡±
¡°It looks that way.¡± Failsafe said. ¡°But with your athletic build, you¡¯re clearly suited for land too. Maybe you are something that would hunt near rivers or lakes or nests near waterways. Either way, let''s hunt and get out of here before that creature starts moving this way.¡±
¡°Snakes, snakes, snakes.¡± Bjorn said absently. ¡°Let''s see what we can find.¡±
[11] All I Have Left
Another day had passed for Freja and she felt as though progress on restoration had slowed considerably. Her potions worked, but their effects dulled by the severity of her injuries. She was still in constant pain which she thought would have subsided by then but the herbal health potions weren¡¯t made to heal the kind of injuries she had. The inefficiency of the potions would mean the scars on her side and arm would be permanent even if she could fully heal herself.
Sitting with her back against the cold stone wall, she ran her fingers aimlessly over the rough floor. Her thoughts began to wander into the darker corners of her mind, lingering on something she had considered before¡ªpoison. She could end it all, stop the constant agony and the slow, torturous decline. It wasn¡¯t like she had anything to live for so thought flickered to life. If anything she was holding Bjorn back, and the past few days proved to her he would be just fine without her. It would be so easy, a simple vial and a few ingredients she had in her kit.
She picked up a small rock that her hand brushed against and examined it briefly before hurling it into the dark recesses of the cave. She watched the flickering campfire, its dying embers casting long shadows on the walls. It was her only source of warmth, the only thing keeping her tethered to the present. It was the only reprieve she had from the dark thoughts that danced around her mind.
Bjorn had gone out again¡ªpatrolling or hunting, she wasn''t sure anymore. He had become far more vigilant, barely sleeping at all in his constant watch over the cave. Her hand trembled as she scooted toward her alchemy setup. If she had time to contemplate the darkness, she had time to brew another potion. Maybe this one would work better, maybe this one would dull the pain just a little more. As she reached for the ingredients, carefully laid out in her limited space, Bjorn returned from his patrol. He dropped a bundle of sticks by the fire with a soft thud and quietly sat beside her, his presence grounding her in a way nothing else could.
Freja¡¯s fingers hesitated over the herbs as she cast a glance at him. Bjorn¡¯s eyes were watchful but weary, his large form coiled with tension, as if ready to spring into action at any moment. She wondered what he had seen out there, what had him so unsettled. He watched her now, quietly observing as she prepared to brew yet another potion.
The thought of poison returned, nagging at the back of her mind. She could stop this all so easily¡ªbut then what? Leave Bjorn alone to fend for himself? After she brought him here with her familiar summoning ritual. She didn¡¯t have the right to give up now. She wouldn¡¯t let her evil family have the satisfaction of finding her bones. She wouldn¡¯t let the shadows win. No. Not today. Not yet. With a deep breath, she shoved the thought back into the darkest part of her mind where it belonged. She wasn¡¯t done.
¡°Okay-okay, focus.¡± She said to herself. ¡°It is just another potion, you¡¯ve made plenty by this point.¡±
To her it wasn¡¯t just another potion though. She wasn¡¯t in a safe lab with her professors and peers. She was in the damp cave of the very creature that just four days ago tried to kill and eat her. She still ached which was a constant reminder of just how close she had come to breathing her last breath. The thought of her side being split open, the visceral image of the creature stepping on her leg and breaking every bone so she couldn¡¯t escape flashed in her mind.
Freja shook the thought from her head and focused on her stopping her quivering hands. She closed her eyes to focus on her inhale and exhale then she felt warmth on her thigh. When she opened her eyes Bjorn¡¯s paws were resting on her lap and the edges of a smile crossed her lips as she reached over and petted the lizard. She needed this next batch to work better, or she wasn¡¯t sure how much longer she could endure, but as long as she had Bjorn she would try.
Freja picked up the flaron root. She rolled the dark and twisted root in her hand, its form rough beneath her fingers. It was bitter and tough, a stubborn ingredient, but essential for binding the potion¡¯s healing magic. She placed it on a cutting board and began to chop it into the finest pieces she could. Her knife, dulled from overuse, made the task slower and less refined than she liked.
As she worked, she murmured a simple incantation under her breath, her fingers glowed faintly as magic was channeled into the knife. As she worked, the root softened, its bitter scent mixed with the musk of the cave. The magic coaxed the root to release its properties, infusing it with an aura.
¡°It looks good.¡± Freja assured herself as she moved the cutting board to the side.
Next was the dorma bulbs, another rooty ingredient but this one looked more like a green onion. In the next process she would have to use them carefully or they would be less effective and lose potency. She cut the stems from the bulbs and placed three in her mortar. She whispered another spell and the runes on the mortar glowed with a gentle light in response to her magic. She crushed them carefully, watching as the light transferred into the paste that formed beneath her pestle.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
As she finished Bjorn leaned in closer to her to get a better look.
¡°You want to know what I am doing, baby?¡± Freja asked, and wasn¡¯t surprised when he nodded. ¡°In order to bring out the compounds needed in the healing potions each ingredient needs to be prepared in a different way. The tool takes my mana and uses it to enhance the natural qualities of the plants.¡±
She moved on to the shade caps which she had already prepared. They were dried near the fire the day Bjorn brought them to her and crushed into a powder. Still she hesitated over the fungus powder as prepared the measuring equipment. Shade caps were tricky¡ªtoo much, and the potion could turn toxic; too little, and it would lose its potency altogether. She bit her lip, carefully measuring out a small amount.
She filled a beaker with the appropriate amount of water and placed it over the bunsen burner. Carefully she mix each ingredient in. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she leaned closer, her magic guiding the blend, coaxing the ingredients to harmonize. The flare crystal¡¯s heat was just enough to keep the mixture stable, but she had to be careful¡ªtoo much heat, and the potion would scorch, too little, and it would spoil.
When she was at the academy this was the part of her study that was the most difficult. Her magic was too chaotic to do it without supervision, yet now thanks to her bond with Bjorn, it felt almost instinctual. It just clicked for her how to manipulate the mana in a way that she could only dream of before. She smiled despite the pain that flared in her side with each breath and let her mana gently infuse into each ingredient.
Freja continued with heating, straining out the plant matter. Then distilling the concoction until she had a perfect herbal health potion.
¡°It¡¯ll have to do,¡± She said, examining the cooling brew. ¡°I¡¯ve survived this long. I¡¯ll survive this, too.¡± She slowly leaned until she lay flat on her back looking up at the cave¡¯s ceiling. She turned to Bjorn who was still watching her curiously. ¡°You believe in me, don¡¯t you?¡±
Bjorn squawked affirmatively and Freja held out her hands for him to come closer. She smiled a little more confidently this time as he leaned closer.
¡°Let me show you something, baby. Wendigo have a thing they do to show that they really care about someone.¡± Freja said as she cupped Bjorns face with her hands. ¡°Honestly, I was afraid you¡¯d leave. I wouldn¡¯t even have blamed you for abandoning a broken and sad excuse for a master like me. Despite everything you are still here. You are still my adorable baby. It is just you and me, Bjorn. You¡¯re my family now, not just a familiar but my family, all I have left.¡± She leaned forward and nuzzled him. ¡°This is how family shows affection.¡±
***
Her leg and ribs still felt raw, but her arm had healed almost completely, save for the stiffness in her shoulder.
It was progress¡ªslow, but steady¡ªand yet, the stench of the rotting troll carcass was becoming unbearable. The nauseating smell clung to the air, invading every breath. Freja wrinkled her nose, gagging as she leaned over her makeshift alchemy station, where another healing potion bubbled on her small bunsen burner. She had tweaked the formula enough times now that the potions not only sped up her healing but also helped numb the pain. She had to take one every few hours, but at least they worked.
¡°I should be able to walk without assistance by this time tomorrow,¡± she muttered to herself, her voice strained as she swallowed back the rising bile. ¡°For the Forest Father¡¯s sake, that smell. I can''t wait until we leave this cursed place.¡±
While she waited for the potion to brew she took another look at the changes made to her magic by the familiar contract. As she thought about it, the strange mental projection screen materialized in her vision again. It was strange, unfamiliar magic, yet she found it almost natural to conjure now. Mental projection magic was rare, certainly not something she¡¯d expected from a familiar bond¡ªespecially one still so early in its development.
Mental projection magic was unusual, but not unheard of. This type of magic was usually the domain of starlight casters like her father, same with illusion and even holy magic casters. She''d only ever heard rumors of cultivators having similar abilities, though it was nothing she''d ever seen firsthand. Yet, there she was, tapping into it as if it had always been there, lying dormant within her. It made her wonder if it was a trait she got from Ulfar, perhaps she was a starlight wizard.
Familiar bonds did sometimes impart some of the magic of their companions on each other, but she¡¯d never heard of such a complex magic being imparted before the familiar reached the Iota stage. At most their bond was a Delta, but even that was questionable. More than likely they still had a proto-bond which is one that can be easily broken and is the reason that she wasn¡¯t supposed to take him out of the containment field as it stabilized proto-bonds.
She shrugged the thought away, her attention returning to the mental projection. It acted like some sort of self-diagnostic tool, showing her a readout of her abilities and the changes the bond had wrought. Interesting, but not particularly useful. She already had a good grasp of what she could do¡ªseeing it projected in front of her didn¡¯t change that. If anything, it only left her with more questions.
What fascinated her most was that this magic wasn¡¯t drawing from her core. Instead, it seemed to be powered by ambient mana in the environment around her. External mana. That alone was unusual, a skill that typically took years to master. Yet here, it was happening automatically, without her even trying.
She couldn¡¯t help but wonder: if this was the kind of power she could access now, with their bond still in its infancy, what would she gain once Bjorn became a Delta-class familiar? Or even an Iota-class in a few years?
¡°Then things would be really interesting.¡± Freja said out loud. ¡°I wonder if I will get venefikinesis? That will be amazing.¡±
Interlude [11.5] Sword of the Salstars
Ingrid would stop at nothing to bring honor to the Salstar noble family. Every action she took, every scheme she wove, was driven by her unyielding determination to make her bloodline the mightiest Yuhia had ever known. She had not been born into privilege or power but clawed her way up from the depths of nothingness¡ªa nameless street rat, destined to perish like so many others deemed too feeble to deserve mercy, too pitiful to earn pity, and unworthy of even being called wendigo.
Yet, where others faltered and fell, Ingrid endured. Where the frail starved, she found sustenance. Where the greedy overreached and the powerless became prey, she adapted, survived, and thrived. Through cunning, strength, and sheer will, Ingrid accomplished what her peers could not so that her lineage might achieve what no other would.
Now, she sat as the wife of Lord Ulfar, the strongest non-royal wendigo in recent memory¡ªa man whose strength and influence matched her ambition. She bore the title of the Sword of the Salstars with pride, embodying both power and purpose in equal measure. While Lord Ulfar, Patriarch of the Salstar house, trained their son to inherit his mantle, Ingrid shouldered the weight of managing the family¡¯s affairs and overseeing their military operations.
As she sat at the head of the grand war chamber, the air was thick with tension. Ingrid addressed the incursion of druid invaders who had dared to trespass on Salstar lands. Her words were precise, her tone commanding, as she pointed to the map spread across the table. Her most vocal detractors, Erik, Haakon, and Raskva Salstar¡ªher brother-in-law, cousin, and aunt-in-law¡ªsat across from her, their expressions as sharp as the blades of their ceremonial swords.
¡°The targets of the invaders will be Vinterholm, Blodfjell, and Ulvetinde,¡± Ingrid stated, tapping each location with her finger. ¡°These locations are¡ª¡±
¡°Strategically vulnerable because you let these filthy druids into our lands in the first place,¡± Haakon interrupted, his voice rising as he slammed his fist on the table. ¡°And now you claim to know their intentions? We should never have entrusted our defenses to a commoner. Warrior or not, you are no family head.¡±
Haakon loomed over the table, his midnight-hued skin and powerful build a stark reflection of the Salstar lineage. His resemblance to Ulfar was undeniable, a living testament to the nighthand¡¯s formidable bloodline. Yet the contrast between him and Ingrid was equally striking¡ªshe, a snowfallen, with skin as pale as her namesake, and a lithe frame that belied her strength. Despite the insult, she met his anger with icy composure, masking her fury behind a measured calm.
¡°I see, Haakon,¡± Ingrid said, her voice level and cutting. ¡°So, you doubt my military accolades? Tell me, then, what do you suggest we do?¡±
Haakon leaned forward, stabbing a finger at the map. ¡°Frostheim. That is where they will converge. The reports indicate movement in that direction. If you were a competent commander, you¡¯d recognize that.¡±
Raskva, ever the opportunist, chimed in with a sneer. ¡°Perhaps Haakon is right. The blood of a snowfallen is ill-suited to lead the Salstars. Leave the decisions to those who understand the weight of true leadership.¡±
¡°Relying on outsiders has never been our way.¡± Erik nodded in agreement. ¡°Our strength is in our blood, not in outsiders.¡±
The whispers of discontent spread through the room, emboldening the dissenters. Yet Ingrid remained silent, letting their words hang in the air like the sting of a blade. When they finally quieted, she rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and commanding.
¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said, her voice laced with a chilling edge. ¡°Salstar strength is in the blood. Which is why I took steps to ensure that no weakness would undermine this family¡ªespecially the weakness of betrayal.¡±
The room stilled as her words sank in.
¡°I allowed the druids into our lands,¡± Ingrid continued, her voice rising, ¡°because I needed proof. Proof that someone within this family was feeding information to the Nazem Noble House. The druids¡¯ movements? Their precise targeting of our vulnerabilities? That was no accident. It was orchestrated by spies within our midst, spies working for Nazem. And I needed the traitors to show their hand.¡± Her gaze swept the room, cold and unyielding, before locking onto Raskva and Haakon. ¡°And they did.¡±
The room erupted into murmurs, shock rippling through the assembled family members.
¡°I misled this council intentionally,¡± Ingrid pressed on, her voice cutting through the noise. ¡°I fed false information about troop movements and priorities to specific individuals. Only two of them acted in a manner that exposed their loyalties¡ªto the Nazem, not to the Salstars. Raskva, Haakon¡ªdo you have anything to say for yourselves?¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Raskva¡¯s face paled, her composed facade cracking. ¡°You... you¡¯re lying,¡± she stammered. ¡°This is absurd! Attacks have been happening for weeks. You have shown us reports of livestock, civilian losses, and military assets attacked.¡±
¡°Did I?¡± Ingrid countered, pulling a parchment from her sleeve and tossing it onto the table. ¡°Here are intercepted communications sent to the Nazem court. Written in your hand, Raskva. And Haakon, your seal was found on directives sent to the druids. Care to explain?¡±
The room fell into stunned silence. The weight of Ingrid¡¯s evidence crushed any protest before it could form. The accused exchanged panicked glances, their guilt laid bare for all to see. Ingrid¡¯s gaze sharpened. Raskva and Haakon stood, their mana bellowing in their aura as scowls played across their faces. Those seated nearest them instinctively recoiled, moving toward the walls for safety. Not from them but from the one who headed the table. They didn¡¯t want to be in the way of the Sword of the Salstars.
¡°It¡¯s a shame, really,¡± Ingrid continued, her voice calm but deadly. ¡°This game we¡¯ve had to play. You see, there have been no successful druid attacks on our lands. Not on our military outposts, not on our civilians, not even on our livestock. I¡¯ve been monitoring their movements from the start, leading them to false flags and meaningless targets.¡±
Ingrid unleashed her aura, her magic flowed from her like a title wave. Her aura was not like that of other mages. She was one of the few exceptions in that way. Where others may have aptitudes in Starlight, Darkness, Elemental, Nature or Spellform hers was unique. Her aptitude lied in Anti-magic, the binding and sealing of magic in any form. As her aura clashed with that of the traitors their mana betrayed them and was sealed beyond their reach.
¡°What... what are you going to do, Ingrid?¡± Raskva stammered, barely able to remain standing, her body trembling under the weight of her stripped mana. ¡°We are members of this council! We demand a trial!¡±
¡°Demands? Trials?¡± Ingrid¡¯s voice was a growl now. ¡°You sound like humans, bartering for leniency. We are not humans.¡±
Her hand extended, and with a flash of light, a massive claymore appeared¡ªits length dwarfing even her frame, its blade etched with runes of sealing. She gripped it with ease, her strength evident in every movement.
¡°We are wendigo. We are Salstars. We do not settle this with words, or trials, or courts like those beneath us. We stand on our strength.¡± Her words thundered through the chamber as she pointed the blade at them. Her aura flared again, a challenge that left no room for misinterpretation. ¡°You think you deserve leniency? Prove that I am wrong¡ªnot with your cowardly words, but with your might. Grit your teeth, traitors, and stand. Fight. Show me you are worthy of this family. The strong live, and the weak die. You want a trial? This is your trial.¡±
The chamber was silent as Ingrid stepped forward, her towering claymore resting lightly on her shoulder. Her every movement radiated power, her gaze locked on the two traitors. Raskva staggered, struggling to maintain her footing without the use of her magic, while Haakon gripped his war axe, his expression twisted with fury and desperation.
¡°Is this the strength of a Salstar?¡± Ingrid asked, her voice laced with disdain. ¡°Pathetic.¡±
Haakon snarled, raising his axe. ¡°I¡¯ll show you strength, you arrogant snowfallen wench!¡±
He charged, his massive frame barreling toward her with surprising speed. The war axe swung in a vicious arc, aiming to cleave Ingrid in two. She sidestepped with effortless grace, her claymore sweeping upward in a single fluid motion. The flat of her blade smashed into Haakon¡¯s ribs, sending him sprawling across the room with a pained grunt.
¡°You rely too much on brute force,¡± Ingrid said coldly, striding toward him as he scrambled to his feet. ¡°But without magic, you¡¯re nothing but a lumbering beast. The Salstars are not mindless animals that wield their magic without purpose and their bodies with reckless flailing like a child.¡±
Raskva made a weak attempt to intervene, clutching a dagger she¡¯d concealed. She lunged at Ingrid¡¯s back, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Without turning, Ingrid twisted her claymore downward, the hilt striking Raskva¡¯s wrist with a sharp crack. The dagger clattered to the ground as Raskva fell to her knees, gasping in pain.
¡°Stay down,¡± Ingrid commanded. ¡°You don¡¯t even deserve this fight.¡±
Haakon roared, charging again with wild fury. His axe came down in a powerful overhand swing, but Ingrid met it head-on. The clang of steel on steel echoed through the chamber as her claymore easily deflected the blow. With a sharp twist, she spun around his guard, her blade slicing through his thigh. Haakon staggered, blood pooling beneath him as he dropped to one knee.
¡°You¡¯ve embarrassed this family enough,¡± Ingrid¡¯s voice was venomous. She raised her claymore high. ¡°This ends now.¡±
A single, decisive swing and her blade cleaved through Haakon¡¯s neck. His head hit the stone floor with a sickening thud, his body collapsing in a heap. Ingrid snapped and the body erupted in a blaze of crystalline fire. Raskva screamed as she tried to crawl backward in a futile attempt to escape. It made Ingrid sick that this worm thought she could call herself Salstar. That she was worthy of what that name meant. No, she was worse than those street rats Ingrid knew as a child. Those worthless people at least died nameless. Raskva clung to an honor not hers to wield.
¡°Please, Ingrid,¡± she begged, tears streaming down her face. ¡°I¡ªI was only following orders!¡±
¡°You followed the wrong ones.¡± Ingrid said.
Raskva¡¯s plea ended in a choked sob as Ingrid¡¯s blade flashed once more, cleanly severing her head from her shoulders. The room fell silent, the traitors¡¯ bodies lying lifeless at her feet. Ingrid turned to the remaining members of the council, her claymore resting heavily against the floor. Her icy gaze swept over the remaining council, lingering on her brother-in-law for a beat longer than the others.
¡°Let this be a lesson,¡± she said, her voice rang with finality. ¡°Betrayal has no place in the House of Salstar.¡±
[12] Like Her Father
Bjorn was watching the area from his favorite perch atop a rock near the cave entrance. He was getting ready to go on his daily walk to the swamp for water and to hunt a few more small prey. However, something about today seemed off and his instincts told him he needed to be here. The smell of the death and decay from the troll made it difficult for him to pick out any other scents in the air. So he had to rely on his vision for the most part.
That was, until he tasted a familiar magic in the air, nearly bleached by the taste of death. The lizard stood up, looking for any signs of the shadow wolves nearby. The taste was faint, but he wasn¡¯t sure if that was because it was being overpowered by the corpse or if they were far away.
¡°We need to get out of sight,¡± Bjorn stated as he hurriedly stood up and ran to the cave mouth.
¡°Yeah. It¡¯ll be bad if they corner us here,¡± Failsafe agreed.
Inside, Freja was standing with the assistance of her wind hands. She could walk but needed to hold onto them as a sort of floating crutch. Her recovery had been going smoothly, but she wouldn¡¯t be ready to leave until tomorrow. He squawked to get her attention then hunkered down in the cave near the entrance. He pressed himself against the wall so he couldn¡¯t be spotted from the outside.
His hope was that the strong musk of the troll in the cave would dissuade any shadow wolf from investigating. Freja seemed to notice his tense body language and also got down, positioning herself in a space that would allow her to see out without being seen. The cave still had the fire going, which should help make the space less appetizing for any beast.
Between the musk, the smoke and the rotten body, Bjorn and Failsafe were completely blind to any changes in taste or smell. It didn¡¯t take long, however, before they saw a wolf peek out from the grasslands. Freja gasped when she saw two more follow behind the first, then three, then four. The numbers kept growing until eight wolves were visible.
Bjorn finally saw why they were able to sneak up on him so easily before. The effect of their magic looked odd to Bjorn¡¯s perceptions, but grass just shifted silently out of their way. The shadows seemed to twist around them, curving unnaturally in the air and hiding them in a way that made them almost appear translucent. It was a trick of the shadow magic manipulation they were known and feared for.
¡°Shadow wolves?¡± Freja questioned, then covered her mouth.
A ninth wolf stepped out of the grassland, this one far too large to be hidden by the tall grass or the shadows. Instead of having the grayish translucence of the other wolves, this one had an almost shiny and metallic fur. The other wolves seemed to be submissive to this wolf, which was nearly twice the size. The pack ran up to the troll carcass, scaring away the vultures and claiming their prize.
After the large wolf took a sizeable piece of meat from the dead troll, the others ripped into the remains of the fallen beast. It seemed to be less of a challenge for them to rip and tear than the vultures. Lucky for Bjorn and Freja they hadn¡¯t seemed to notice or care for the cave, although Freja went several shades lighter as the color drained from her face.
¡°Any idea what that big one is?¡± Bjorn asked mentally.
¡°I have no idea but we¡¯re dead if it sees us,¡± Failsafe responded in a whisper, despite speaking directly into Bjorn¡¯s mind.
¡°I figured as much,¡± Bjorn thought back.
As the wolves ate their fill some started looking around the area. Bjorn pulled himself a few more feet back from the mouth of the cave. One of the wolves walked up to the cave and sniffed around the entrance. Either the smell of the troll¡¯s musk or the fire or a combination of both caused the wolf to back up and continue its meandering elsewhere. Bjorn sighed in relief from a breath he didn¡¯t even know he was holding.
A tense few hours passed as the wolves hung around. It wasn¡¯t until the larger wolf finally decided to return to the forest that the others began dragging the corpse away, most likely to wherever their den was located to feed their young. Even after the wolves had vanished from sight no one moved. Bjorn and Freja felt exhausted after being on alert for so long, and there was no way to fully know if the threat had passed.
¡°That was a steel wolf and a druid''s familiar.¡± Freja broke the silence but only barely above a whisper. ¡°What is it doing this far into the country? We have to get out of here, Bjorn, are you okay?¡± She used the wall to stand up. ¡°I¡¯m sure druid soldiers are behind the attacks on my fathe¡ Ulfar¡¯s lands. The troll was a diversion¡ or happenstance. The war is far to the east, how did they get here?¡± She thought for a minute. ¡°Sabotage, they want to disrupt the farmers and supplies?¡± She thought about it for a second, struggling with the decision to tell someone or just leave. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, he told me never to return so we¡¯re going to do just that.¡±
¡°War?¡± Bjorn thought.
¡°It is the first I¡¯m hearing about it too,¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°But as it would seem this country is at war with whatever druids are. Freja mentioned her sister died. Do you think that¡¯s related to the war?¡±
¡°It doesn¡¯t matter for now,¡± Bjorn said as he stood up. ¡°Freja is right, we gotta get out of here; if they come back or their master finds out we killed a few of their pets we¡¯re wolf food.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
¡°She¡¯s still injured. I¡¯m not sure how far we can get if she is limping. Let''s say they find us, then what? She can¡¯t run and she won''t be able to create more potions. We can¡¯t use Poison Puff or the gas may kill her, so we¡¯ll be reduced to bites and poison scratch. I doubt we¡¯ll be able to take out eight shadow wolves and a steel wolf half the size of a horse like that.¡±
¡°So what do you suggest?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°We somehow convince her to finish her treatment,¡± Failsafe stated seriously. ¡°She can¡¯t have more than a day left at this rate, and she has enough water for the last few potions. She heals up and we stand a better chance, because I have big doubts that you¡¯ll abandon her if she lags behind.¡±
¡°And if they come back tonight?¡± Bjorn asked.
Bjorn could feel Failsafe roll his non-existent eyes out of his sockets with that strawman excuse.
¡°It isn¡¯t perfect but here we can funnel the wolves.¡± Failsafe said. ¡°Out there they can come from anywhere and it''s going to be night in a few hours. This cave has only one way in and out. So we get Freja to stand at the far end of the cave and let poison puff go and hope it¡¯s enough to drive them away again.¡±
Bjorn sighed. ¡°Okay, you convinced me. But now we need to convince our master.¡±
***
Freja was in the middle of using her newly summoned Wind Hands to collect her belongings when Bjorn barreled into the fray. He started undoing everything the magical hands had packed, pulling out the alchemy equipment and making distressed sounds to stop her. Freja¡¯s frustration mounted as she tried to work around him. Her control over the wind magic had improved, allowing her to move the hands quickly and precisely, but it didn¡¯t matter if Bjorn kept unpacking what she packed.
¡°Bjorn stop, bad boy. We need to go,¡± Freja said, her panic rising. ¡°Those wolves come back, we¡¯re dead.¡±
She willed her Wind Hands to continue packing, but every item they placed into the bag, Bjorn would snatch and set back down. Her frustration ignited into a burning anger. Despite the pain in her leg, she limped over to him, her heart pounding. It was infuriating. Each step sending a bolt of pain up her leg.
She towered over the familiar, heart pounding, the urge to lash out boiling inside her. Why won¡¯t he listen? The thought struck her, a dark impulse to make him listen. She wanted to scream at him, to force him into submission. Her muscles tensed, and for a fleeting moment, she imagined striking him, the way her father used to lash out when he needed control, when words weren¡¯t enough. When she had failed him.
The idea was a cruel trick of her mind, the remnant of the genes she was cursed to bear. It was her father¡¯s voice. His heavy hand. The way he used to control through violence. It wasn''t a stranger to any wendigo, might makes right. That is the way of the wendigo, how they are raised and what they are taught. She was always reminded that those who were strong had every right to dominate those who were weaker. He was stronger, so it was his right to control her. It was a sickening reminder of who she was trying not to be. Now, here she was, in the same position of power over Bjorn, falling into the same poisonous mindset.
Then she thought by that same logic, wasn¡¯t Bjorn actually stronger then her? He was her superior, yet all he did was save her. He stood by her side and protected her when leaving was the better choice. Even now, he wasn¡¯t attacking her¡ªhe was trying to protect her, though she couldn¡¯t understand why. That was the problem, she couldn¡¯t understand it. She was jaded by her family and now she was thinking like the very people that cast her out.
A shudder ran through her. Freja swallowed down the rage, forcing herself to choke on the bitter taste of it. The impulse to strike, to control through violence, disgusted her. She hated that it was even there, festering beneath the surface like a dark parasite. She wasn¡¯t him. She wouldn¡¯t become him.
Taking a shaky breath, Freja forced herself to kneel down in front of Bjorn, wincing as the pain in her leg flared again. It was her retribution for her dark thoughts and a price she was more than willing to pay for her familiar. She locked eyes with him and wanted to understand why he was doing this. Why, when every instinct told her to run, did he seem so determined to stay? What was he trying to tell her and how could she convince him?
¡°I know you can understand me. Stop. Just stop,¡± Her voice cracked, and the flood of emotion she¡¯d been holding back surged forward. Tears stung her eyes, and before she could stop herself, she was sobbing. She wiped her face with her shaking hand. ¡°She was the strongest, kindest person I knew. Helga. She didn¡¯t survive¡ she couldn¡¯t even survive the war with those tree fucking bastards. So what chance do I have? The druids killed her, and if we stay here, they¡¯ll kill me too. I don¡¯t want to die. We need to go. You understand?¡±
The words just flowed out, she wasn¡¯t angry and she didn¡¯t even realize it until she spoke. She was afraid, no, terrified to see the people that took her sister from her. She collapsed onto the floor, pressing her forehead into her palm. Helga¡¯s death was still raw, a wound that hadn¡¯t healed, and the fear of facing the same enemies who had killed her sister was overwhelming. The wolves they¡¯d seen¡ªone of them had to be a druid¡¯s familiar. Freja knew it. The fear had been gnawing at her since that moment, and now, in the face of Bjorn¡¯s refusal to leave, the weight of it all crushed her.
Bjorn nosed through her alchemy bag again, and when she finally looked up, he had dropped one of her herbal potions at her feet. Freja blinked, trying to understand.
¡°We don¡¯t have time for that,¡± she snapped, her voice sharper than intended. ¡°I can walk.¡±
The pain in her leg flared up again, and caused her to moan in pain through clenched teeth. Just standing had aggravated the injury, and despite her stubbornness, she knew she wasn¡¯t in any shape to run, let alone fight if they had to escape. She forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, until her heart rate slowed. Freja looked at Bjorn, then down at the potion he¡¯d brought her. He was right. She wasn¡¯t ready.
Reluctantly, picking up the potion. ¡°Twelve hours,¡± she said, her voice steadier now. ¡°I¡¯ll take this, and in twelve hours, I¡¯ll be able to walk, maybe even run. I¡¯ll brew a lesser health potion too. It¡¯ll take tighter tolerances, but I can do it,¡± she added, more to herself than to Bjorn. ¡°Once it¡¯s ready, will you let me pack so we can go?¡± Bjorn made a small noise of affirmation. Freja nodded, wiping the last of her tears. ¡°Then let''s get to work.¡±
[13] Confidence
Freja was a few hours into making the new potions; something she¡¯d done countless times, but in the comfort of her room or in a lab as part of her education. Freja found solace in the fact that she could rely on her skills despite the dire situation. Having Bjorn there definitely helped calm her nerves. If she¡¯d been on her own, had that troll really killed him, she too would have died, whether it was by thirst, starvation or the shadow wolves.
She looked at the familiar as he dutifully guarded her from the entrance of the cave. His forked tongue tasted the air while his head swiveled, looking out into the darkness. She couldn¡¯t help but smile at the fact that someone cared about her so much they would literally jump onto the back of a troll for her.
She then realized that Bjorn must be confused as to what was going on. He was intelligent, and she¡¯d just mentioned a war and really only talked vaguely about herself and what was going on. She wanted to vent and for him to understand their situation and more about herself. While they waited it was the perfect time.
¡°I guess I should start with the obvious. I was a noble.¡± She glanced at him, and he tilted his head slightly, his tongue flicking again. Freja couldn¡¯t help but smile at his reaction. ¡°Not that it matters much anymore. You saw how that ended. I was considered a failure. A noble with barely any magical affinity to speak of. That kind of thing wasn¡¯t tolerated in families like mine. Funnily enough, though, since we bonded, I think that¡¯s starting to change. I¡¯ve never had this much control over my magic before.¡±
She focused her mana again, letting it flow carefully into the swirling mixture, watching as it took on a faint glow. Her hands worked automatically as she spoke, adding ingredients to the simmering potion. The process was delicate, and for once, she was doing it without assistance. Just a few days ago, her magic had been too erratic for her to manage this kind of task alone. But ever since the familiar bond, something had changed. She was more in control now, even if it still felt strange.
¡°Anyway, being a noble in our society comes with expectations. Power. Responsibility. I didn¡¯t live up to any of that. My older sister, Helga, was the perfect one. Strong, talented, kind¡ªpeople even whispered she was more powerful than our father. Everyone loved her. She always looked out for me, even though I was the family disappointment. But my little brother, Ragnar¡ he never warmed to me. I guess he took after Father in that way.
¡°As for my little sister, Eira¡ªwell, you never met her. Neither did I, not really. Ulfar and Ingrid kept her away from me. Like I was some kind of disease. I heard she¡¯s a Starlight mage too. Just like Helga and Ulfar, it must have skipped me and Ragnar.¡±
She paused, her hands moving to grind another set of ingredients. This next batch was for the last potion she needed, the one that would hopefully keep them alive long enough to figure out their next move. She poured crushed herbs into a second beaker, the mixture swirling as it began the distillation process. Her hands moved with practiced skill, but her thoughts drifted to the war, to the endless conflict that had shaped so much of her life.
¡°Anyway, the war. It¡¯s been going on for three thousand years, give or take. Sometimes it¡¯s quiet, just small skirmishes. Other times¡other times, it¡¯s chaos. Cities destroyed, forests torn apart. It changes in intensity from small skirmishes to battles with magics that can level mountains. Then there could be years of nothing in between. It¡¯s mainly focused around the Diredian Forest. The druids and the wendigo share a common ancestral home. The druids claim it¡¯s their land, but that¡¯s a lie. It¡¯s ours. The Forest Father, our True Father, descended there and created us, the wendigo, in his image. The druids stole that image with their twisted magics and claimed the land as theirs. And so, the war never ends. Helga believed she could make a difference. That¡¯s why she went. She was the prodigy¡ªthe golden daughter of the Salstar house. Stronger than Ulfar himself, people said, but she never came back.¡±
Freja¡¯s hands moved in a steady rhythm as she continued to refine the potion. The mana infusion was the most sensitive part, and she had always struggled with it¡ªuntil now. She glanced down at her work, feeling a sense of pride despite the circumstances. She was actually doing it. The potions would be done after the arduous distilling process, which would require Freja to regulate mana in the brew every few minutes.
¡°I don¡¯t know if you care about any of this but I am happy that I have you, baby,¡± She said. ¡°You¡¯re like my little knight in scaly armor.¡±
Bjorn squawked what Freja assumed was his approval, making Freja laugh. It felt good to laugh, even if just for a second.
Freja worked all throughout the night to refine the herbal health potion into a lesser health potion. The mana infusion process was the most sensitive to failure. Up until recently she would¡¯ve had to have a professor or classmate assist her in this part because her magic was so unstable. If she¡¯d had better ingredients she could have probably made a petty potion, but one could dream.
Freja guesstimated that they only had a few hours before sunrise. They¡¯d need to rest soon if they were going to survive the next leg of their journey. Exhaustion and shadow wolves were a lethal combination, and Freja wasn¡¯t eager to test her luck any further.
The potion simmered gently, its color shifting as she pushed more mana into it. Freja¡¯s gaze drifted to Bjorn. Every now and then, he would turn to check on her, his bright eyes curious and alert. Freja smiled at him, still marveling at how such a small, strange creature had become her familiar and family.
¡°When we leave, we have to head northwest,¡± she said, her voice low but thoughtful as she focused on the brew. ¡°I doubt we could climb the cliff face, and even if we did, we¡¯d be heading straight into the Salstar domain. I don¡¯t think either of us is up for that right now.¡± Bjorn squawked in response, his head bobbing slightly, Freja chuckled and continued, ¡°Can you get us around the wolves¡¯ territory?¡± Bjorn squawked again, louder this time. ¡°Okay, then, Take a nap for a few hours. When I¡¯m done with the potion, I¡¯ll wake you up, and you can be my cute guard again.¡±
It took a few hours like she had expected but the potion was finally done and Freja had managed to make two doses of the now crimson liquid. The light of the morning sun only barely peeked into the cave as she corked the second vial. She¡¯d been waiting until both were done before taking one just in case it knocked her out, which was possible with the level of injury she had. She called Bjorn a few times and the familiar roused from his sleep easily enough, yawning wide, showing off rows of teeth and large fangs. Freja thought it was the most adorable thing she¡¯d ever seen.
Now that he was awake she told him to wake her in three hours and took the potion. It didn¡¯t have a taste, but the effects were immediate and painful. She felt her body heat up, her muscles tense and her bones force themselves to heal. The pain was numbed as the process continued, but it still sucked. As expected, she soon passed out.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
***
Bjorn stood up sniffing the unconscious girl to get a good sense of what the magic was doing to her body. He could taste the mana of the potion as it ran its course through her chest and radiated outward to each of her limbs. He noticed that it didn¡¯t follow her digestive track but instead her mana pathways. He didn¡¯t have the knowledge to tell what was going on beyond that so he turned his attention elsewhere.
¡°Wendigo, druids, the Forest Father? Do any of those sound familiar?¡± Bjorn asked mentally.
¡°No, but the races can¡¯t be more than three thousand years old. After all this Forest Father guy is a True Wendigo that descended to this plane and created them, according to her,¡± Failsafe responded with a yawn that Bjorn heard in his mind. ¡°But we don¡¯t have enough information or your memories to come to anything conclusive.¡±
¡°D-did you just mentally yawn?¡± Bjorn said as he walked back up to his post at the mouth of the cave. ¡°You''re a magic construct, do you sleep? Never mind. You knew what shadow wolves were, which means we know this region but not the people that live here. I¡¯m pretty sure that means I was alive before the Forest Father descended and created Freja¡¯s race, right?¡±
¡°If that¡¯s true then finding out more information about you will be difficult,¡± Failsafe agreed, then he thought for a second. ¡°Well, we will get a little bit more answers after you level up.¡±
Bjorn looked at Freja for a long moment. ¡°I hope so, but for now let''s focus on getting out of here.¡±
***
Bjorn watched as Freja stirred from her rest. He had given her four hours instead of three knowing she would need to be as rested as possible. When she woke, she blinked groggily, but the signs of exhaustion and pain were gone, replaced by a renewed energy. The moment she realized it, her eyes lit up, and without warning, she scooped Bjorn up into a tight hug, spinning him around. He let out a small, approving squawk, though the moment couldn¡¯t last long. They both knew they needed to pack up and leave.
The first thing Freja packed was her alchemy kit; it had already proven its worth and would be going wherever she would. The leatherbound case wasn¡¯t too heavy, and she could easily carry it. In her backpack she put only her unsoiled clothing, as she would be leaving the bloody ones here. She also had a few toiletries, her notebooks on alchemy and one textbook. Everything else was to be left behind. As Freja packed, Bjorn stood nearby, his sharp eyes glancing toward the mouth of the cave to make sure they were still safe.
When Freja paused, Bjorn followed her gaze. She had noticed something: a small silk bag her father had left with the health potion. Bjorn could sense her hesitation, the way her eyes darkened at the sight of it. She had almost forgotten about it. The tension in her body made it clear that whatever was in that bag carried weight beyond its contents. She looked like she wanted to walk by it as if she didn¡¯t notice it at all. However, her rational mind would not let her disregard a potentially helpful item, despite who it was from.
Freja knelt down and picked up the bag, the soft jingle from inside making her sigh. Bjorn moved closer, curious as to what was inside. The bag seemed small and inconspicuous, but it had history¡ªand pain¡ªattached to it.
¡°It¡¯s probably just sixteen silver or bronze coins,¡± Freja muttered with a shrug, her tone dismissive. ¡°When a Shai is kicked from a family, they¡¯re supposed to give them a coin for every year of life they were with the family. It¡¯s supposed to help them start over.¡±
Bjorn tilted his head, his sharp eyes fixating on the bag as Freja untied it and dumped a few coins into her hand. Her face shifted in an instant¡ªsurprise, confusion, and then something darker. It wasn¡¯t silver or bronze. It was gold.
Bjorn squawked softly, sensing the change in Freja¡¯s mood. Her hands trembled slightly as she counted the coins. Sixteen gold. Her expression paled, and she leaned against the cave wall, sliding down to sit on the cold stone floor, disbelief and nausea battling for control on her face.
¡°Why would they do this?¡± Freja¡¯s voice trembled, her anger slowly building beneath the surface. She held one of the gold coins out for Bjorn to see. ¡°One of these is worth three months'' wages for most people, and Ulfar gave me a fucking lesser health potion. They knew, they expected me to die and instead of giving me something useful they prolonged my suffering! The lesser health potion was a trap. If you weren¡¯t here I would have to starve to death or be eaten alive by scavengers instead of bleeding out.¡±
Her voice cracked, but she held back tears. ¡°Their evil Bjorn, they were my family, they loved me once, but they''re just evil. With this they spent more on me to rot in a field than they ever did when I was their daughter.¡± She clenched the coin, her knuckles white, before letting out a dark, bitter laugh. ¡°I bet they wanted me to find this, to give me just enough hope before realizing that nothing had changed. That I was dead regardless.¡±
Freja shoved the coins back into the silk bag with more force than necessary, the jingle of gold sounding hollow. She threw it into her bookbag and sat there for a long moment, her breath shaky. Bjorn moved closer, nudging her gently with his snout, as if to remind her he was still there. She opened her arms and he leaned into as she sniffled.
¡°What an evil son of a bitch,¡± she muttered. Her breathing was staggered but she eventually calmed down. ¡°Sorry you had to see me like this,¡± she said softly, her voice steadier now. She nuzzled him and stood up, brushing herself off. ¡°You ready to go, baby?¡±
***
Outside the cave, Freja stretched for the first time in nearly a week, her body relishing the warmth of the sun. The light bathed her in its glow, and she inhaled deeply, grateful to be on her own two feet again. She enjoyed the pull of her muscles as she touched her toes without pain. More importantly, she had a plan for self-defense.
She spoke the words of power with careful precision, summoning the Mystic Wind Hands. Two translucent, shimmering hands appeared in front of her, their ethereal forms swaying slightly in the air. Freja looked around, spotting a few rocks scattered nearby. They weren''t large but heavy enough to make an impact. She directed the wind hands to pick them up, and they obeyed immediately, lifting the stones with ease.
Freja swung the rocks experimentally, her improved control over magic allowed her to move the stones at a surprising speed. They whistled through the air as she focused on their trajectory. She let out a satisfied breath as the rocks collided with the nearby cliff face, sending small chunks of debris flying. The impact was strong, much stronger than she¡¯d anticipated. It was crude but effective.
Without the rocks, the wind hands themselves were weak, barely capable of causing damage. But with the stones, they packed a real punch. The spell had limits¡ªthe wind hands would disappear if they struck something directly, leaving her temporarily defenseless. She needed to have it timed just right, letting go of the stones right before impact so she could avoid dispelling them. This way, she could resummon the rocks as long as they stayed within the spell¡¯s ten-foot range.
It wasn¡¯t perfect. She didn¡¯t have any offensive spells in her repertoire, but it was the best she could do for now. She was hopeful that she wouldn¡¯t need them at all and they could safely travel around the wolves¡¯ territory. She glanced over at Bjorn, who stood watching her from the cave''s entrance, his eyes following the stones'' trajectory with keen interest. She liked to believe he was impressed by her makeshift attack magic. His only response was a soft squawk, but that was enough for her.
She took another deep breath as she looked at the dark forest they would be traveling through. The dense trees swayed in the wind. Bjorn by her side and a plan in mind, she wasn¡¯t the same vulnerable girl she had been a week ago. She was going to survive and get out of this forest.
¡°Alright, lead the way,¡± Freja said, giving Bjorn a confident nod.
[14] Victory?
Bjorn¡¯s first thought was just to lead Freja south, away from the forest and its looming dangers. His instincts told him this was the safest route, but each time he tried to guide her in that direction, she stopped him, pulling gently but firmly on his tail to get his attention. They had been following the rock face for a little while and she had caught on to his plan.
¡°No,¡± she said, her voice steady but with an edge of tension. ¡°We can¡¯t go that way, baby.¡±
The open cliffs to the south meant avoiding the dense shadows of the forest, where the wolves lurked unseen. It was undoubtedly the safest path then they could curve around the forest and avoid the wolves and whatever that other creature was that was lurking around the village far off in the grassland. Bjorn squawked in protest wishing he could just explain his plan.
Freja sighed. ¡°If we go south we¡¯ll be heading straight back into Salstar territory. It isn¡¯t a simple thing for me to do that anymore. It would violate the Shaigaunt. If I go back, my family will have me killed. And trust me when I say they will know if I enter.¡±
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Bjorn hesitated. He knew how serious her tone was¡ªthis wasn¡¯t just about avoiding the wolves anymore. The Salstar domain held even graver threats, ones that could not be outrun or fought off. Bjorn looked at the path to obvious freedom and hissed discontentedly. Bjorn¡¯s gut twisted. They were stuck between two dangerous paths: wolves to the north, death to the south.
Bjorn let out a low growl of frustration but turned away from the southern cliffs, conceding to her wishes. Hopefully he could protect her from the wolves and with her floating rocks if she hit one she could do some real damage. He couldn¡¯t protect her from her own family¡¯s wrath, not in their own territory. Especially if they had dragons like Thrand. They would head through the forest.
As they trudged forward, Bjorn was meticulous in his vigilance. Every step they took closer to the wolves'' territory gnawed at him, and he sharpened his senses to their peak. His tongue flicked, tasting the air for any unfamiliar magics as his eyes darted around. The canopy overhead thickened, casting deeper shadows across their path, which was fine for him since he was able to see in the dark.
The same could not be said for Freja, as the forest became denser, its underbrush transitioned into a tangled mess of roots and brambles that seemed intent on tripping her at every opportunity. The low light meant she had to rely on Bjorn¡¯s tail which she held onto as a steadying guide. She muttered under her breath when her legs caught on thorny vines. She only had her school uniform skirts which offered barely any protection for her skin. She was determined, and despite her discomfort, she didn¡¯t complain. Not aloud, anyway.
Bjorn¡¯s thoughts drifted as they moved. Before he had relied on his compass-like connection with Freja while she was immobile in the cave. Without that the forest felt endless, every direction melding into the same dark, shadowy labyrinth. His tongue flicked in the air, searching for the scent of water. To give him a better indication of their direction. The swamp should offer them some refuge, and if they were lucky, they could avoid the wolves altogether.
¡°Can you tell where we are?¡± Bjorn asked mentally.
¡°Kind of, but there isn¡¯t much in the way of landmarks,¡± Failsafe stated. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a future design for our system, a mental map or something. Oh, no, that would require divination magic¡ or would it? Remind me to come back to this subject later.¡±
¡°Yeah, definitely that sounds incredibly useful,¡± Bjorn replied.
¡°Let¡¯s see.¡± Failsafe said ponderously. ¡°Go left, I am pretty sure that is the direction you said you wanted to take her to avoid the plant monster thing.¡±
He stopped, causing Freja to nearly run into him. She knelt down beside him when she noticed he was looking around furiously. He heard something nearby and tasted something unfamiliar in the air but it wasn¡¯t the wolves magic. He prepared himself to use his poison scratch. Then a fox appeared from behind a tree a few feet ahead of them. It looked just as surprised to see them as they were to see it. It quickly turned tail and ran away.
Bjorn let out a long hiss from a breath he didn¡¯t know he was holding. He looked at Freja she had a hand on her heart as she calmed herself down. Then she chuckled softly to herself and petted Bjorn as she stood back up.
¡°Let¡¯s keep going, baby.¡± Freja said.
***
They pressed forward, the trail deceptively serene, like a gentle stroll through an untouched forest. Bjorn knew better. Freja, however, seemed to be loosening up, her earlier tension easing with every step. He couldn¡¯t blame her¡ªstaying on edge was exhausting, and she didn¡¯t have the same reasons to fear this place as he did. She¡¯d seen the wolves, yes, but not the nature monster or the horrors it had wrought upon that village. Deep down, he hoped she never would.
The air grew tense, almost hard to breathe, when Bjorn noticed there were no birds chirping or scents of other animals nearby. That¡¯s when he saw a large silver wolf observing him in the distance. There was no scent, no trace of magic, no sound accompanying the beast. It was simply out of his range and watching him from downwind.
Bjorn hissed, which caused Freja to look around for any sign of danger. She didn¡¯t seem to see anything in the brush, but she probably wouldn¡¯t until it was too late. Bjorn started walking and she followed closely behind, still holding on to his tail. He slowly picked up speed and she had to circulate her mana throughout her muscles to keep up.
He steadily picked up speed until he felt Freja couldn¡¯t keep up. However, the faster he ran the more mana he could taste her pushing into her muscles. She was strengthening herself which he remembered her doing before in order to carry him through the academy. He didn¡¯t know how fast she could go and considered slowing a bit so she could keep up.
¡°Bjorn, don¡¯t worry I can keep up just fine,¡± Freja said almost as if she could read in mind.
Bjorn obliged and increased his speed considerably. He was surprised at Freja¡¯s speed and reflexes; she navigated the forest side by side with him like she was a professional nature survivalist. Bjorn had to focus on the taste of water in the air. They were still very far off, at least thirty minutes away. That¡¯s when he tasted shadow wolf magic, dangerously close.
¡°Bjorn, ahead of us!¡± Failsafe yelled.
Bjorn saw the wolf waiting in ambush right as Failsafe alerted him. The fur of the creature blended it into shadows near-flawlessly. He had mere moments to react and no time to alert Freja. He had to act and do it quickly. Time seemed to slow as he saw the beast lunge forward, not at him but towards Freja. Bjorn jumped into the air, catching a tree trunk and jumping off, changing his trajectory in an instant.
Blood and pain erupted as Bjorn crashed into the wolf nearly twice his size. The jaws of the wolf only missed Freja¡¯s neck by inches. The creature was caught completely off guard, but its instincts were sharp. It snapped and clawed as Bjorn wrapped his body around the wolf and they fell to the ground. Bjorn bit the creature over and over, but his venom wasn¡¯t instant. Freja directed one of the twenty pound stones onto the wolf''s head, which popped like a watermelon under a hammer. In her haste she forgot to let go of the stone with the Wind Hand, causing it to disperse.
¡°Bjorn, are you okay?¡± Freja asked as she picked the dead wolf off of him so he could crawl out.
Bjorn squawked as Freja frantically resummoned the wind hand and picked up the now bloody stone. As soon as she was done Bjorn started running again, Freja right behind him. The fight had been short but he hadn¡¯t gotten out unscathed. He had several lacerations along his body, but adrenaline and his healing factor kept him moving. He knew that the most important thing to do now was to keep going.
The shadow wolf magic was everywhere now, and the steel wolf was drawing closer. Bjorn knew the steel wolf was also a familiar thanks to Freja, and it seemed to have some intelligence in its organization of the other wolves. That surprise attack was meant to kill Freja, who between the two would be a bigger threat given she was a magic caster. Bjorn also believed that might be the reason it was staying back and corralling them towards something.
¡°Shit-shit, Bjorn, ahead of us!¡± Freja exclaimed.
Two more wolves were waiting ahead of them, not even using their magic to conceal themselves. They didn¡¯t get any closer, instead standing there growling and baring their teeth. They were there to stop them from running towards the water, and with the steel wolf now charging towards them they had no choice but to turn and go deeper into the wolves¡¯ territory.
¡°They¡¯re leading us somewhere,¡± Failsafe stated.
¡°Yes-yes, I know,¡± Bjorn responded.
¡°Well what are we going to do once we get there?¡± Failsafe asked.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
¡°Poison puff,¡± Bjorn stated. ¡°We get Freja to climb up a tree or something out of the reach of the©`¡±
Searing pain was all the familiar felt as he was lifted into the air. Everything went silent for a second as in the next second he picked himself off the ground. Blood escaped him in pools as he struggled to understand what just happened. He looked around to take stock of the situation and saw the steel wolf standing over him. It jumped back as a rock flew by, narrowly missing it.
It had caught up to them and bit down on Bjorn¡¯s body, lifting him in the air before getting hit in the side by one of Freja¡¯s stones. She just saved his life but he was no longer in a condition to run. Freja rushed to him, spinning the stones around herself in a fast orbit to dissuade any sudden attacks. The entire remaining pack was now standing in an angry growling semicircle around the pair. Freja was saying something, but Bjorn couldn¡¯t hear anything.
It was now or never, and with some struggle he managed to stand. Freja tried to stop him but he whipped at her with his long tail to keep her back. Bjorn snarled, his body aching and bleeding, but he refused to back down. He could feel the wolves closing in, their teeth glinting in the dim light, their growls vibrating through the ground beneath him. His claws scraped against the dirt as he steadied himself, drawing on the last reserves of his strength. He wasn¡¯t going down¡ªnot without taking them with him.
This time he knew what to do. He felt his core tremble as he pulled more magic from it than he ever had in his short life, forcing it up his throat. The raw power burned as it surged into his mouth, pooling and bubbling like molten venom. His jaws clenched against the pressure, his teeth vibrating from the strain. Then, with a deep, guttural roar, he opened his mouth wide and unleashed it.
A torrent of sickly green mist exploded outward, darker and denser than before. The air crackled with energy as the mist churned violently, a thundercloud of poison given form. Its sickly-sweet scent was deceptive, masking its deadly intent as it rolled forward like a tidal wave. Bjorn exhaled with all his might, the mist pouring out in an unrelenting surge that painted the forest floor in shades of toxic shadow.
The wolves hesitated, their instincts screaming at them to flee, but it was too late. The mist engulfed them, clinging to fur and flesh like a living creature. The nearest wolf, mid-lunge, yelped as the mist touched its muzzle, its attack faltering as it crumpled to the ground. Others staggered, choking and coughing, their bodies writhing as the mist seeped into their lungs.
Bjorn¡¯s eyes burned with determination as he kept pouring his energy into the attack, the mist spreading wider and deeper. He would give this attack his all, to kill his enemies and not flow backwards into Freja. Soon the forest ahead of him was awash with poison so thick it looked like a thunderstorm had touched down. Bjorn spent all of his energy, body trembling.
Only then did he see it, the jaws of the massive steel wolf. The wolf¡¯s teeth sank into his neck, a searing flash of pain exploding through his body. It was over in a heartbeat. Pain gave way to numbness, and then, nothing.
Silence. Darkness. Death.
***
Freja was frozen in fear for only a moment mid stride when the steel wolf bore down on Bjorn, its massive jaws biting onto his back and sides. Her familiar¡¯s scales were no match for the ferocity of the massive wolf. Then she spun around, her nails digging into the dirt to stop her momentum. She dropped her alchemy case. Her hesitation shattered, replaced by a fury that drowned out everything else¡ªthe pack closing in, the danger surrounding her, the fear creeping into her mind. None of it mattered. Her eyes locked onto Bjorn, her Bjorn, helpless in the jaws of the monstrous druid familiar.
As soon as she was in range, one of the wind hands flung forward with all of the speed she could muster. It smashed into the steel wolf¡¯s head with a deafening crash. The rock shattered on impact, pieces exploding outward like shrapnel. Steel wolves were tough, pretty obvious given the name, but their ability was to harden themselves against kinetic attacks. The wolf was more surprised than injured as it dropped Bjorn and backed off before the second stone could land.
Luckily this time she¡¯d remembered to have the hands let go right before impact and didn¡¯t have to resummon them. She ran to Bjorn, using the wind hands to orbit her in a makeshift shield to keep the wolves at bay. Bjorn was bleeding heavily; his sides were a wreck of torn flesh and even exposed ribs.
¡°Bjorn, baby, you''re going to be okay,¡± Freja said, trying to keep her voice calm. ¡°We¡¯re going to get out of here.¡±
As she got closer Bjorn started to whip at her with his tail to keep her away. He struggled to stand as he faced the steel wolf and its pack. Nine of them in all. Freja wanted to believe that they could get out of this alive and that someone would save them. That her surviving the troll meant something, that her life meant something, that Bjorn¡¯s trust in her meant something.
She couldn¡¯t see a way out of this situation. Sure, Bjorn had killed the troll, but that was one monster, one stupid lumbering thing. The druid¡¯s familiar wasn¡¯t dumb, it had some intelligence and was well trained. It was fast and had a pack at its disposal. She looked down at her familiar as he continued to walk closer to the semicircle of wolves.
She realized she didn¡¯t need anyone to save them; she had Bjorn and that was all she needed. She felt like she could trust whatever he was planning. That¡¯s when she felt a swell of magic erupted in front of her. A thundercloud crackling with more magical power than she had seen come from such a young creature billowed forth.
¡°What the fuck?¡± Freja exclaimed as the display caused her to fall backwards onto her butt.
The wolves recoiled, their snarls turning to panicked yelps as the mist engulfed them. One by one, they fell, their bodies twitching and writhing, desperate to escape the toxic cloud. Freja watched in stunned silence, her hand covering her mouth. The scene was unreal, the wolves dropping like flies in the suffocating fog. She didn¡¯t need to get closer to understand. The mist reeked of death, its sickly-sweet scent hiding a lethal venom. It was poison, pure and deadly, and she knew better than to breathe it in.
Bjorn stood there triumphant but horribly injured. Freja wasted no time crawling over to him; she needed to stay low to keep from breathing in the toxic cloud as it curled in the air. Then seemingly from nowhere the steel wolf emerged from the cloud. Too close to Bjorn for him to evade and too far for her to hit with another stone. In a moment that seemed to last forever she watched angry jaws come down on Bjorn¡¯s neck. Blood and viscera escaped as his body came loose from his neck. Bjorn¡¯s body, lifeless and mangled, was flung backward like a broken doll, slamming into Freja and driving her into the dirt. The impact knocked the air from her lungs.
Her breath came in shallow gasps as the world lost color and collapsed. Sound faded and all she could hear was the deafening thunder of her own heartbeat threatening to burst her eardrums. She looked down, trembling, at the bloodied mass in her arms. Blue scales. A familiar, slender shape. But this wasn¡¯t her Bjorn. It couldn¡¯t be. Not like this.
Freja clutched Bjorn¡¯s limp body to her chest, her hands slick with his blood, her screams breaking the suffocating silence before she even realized she was making them. Tears streaked her dirt-smeared face, her anguish twisting into a furious snarl as her gaze locked onto the steel wolf. It was all that remained of its pack, but it didn¡¯t need them. It stood tall, the alpha, ready to finish her off.
Freja stood and backed up holding on to Bjorn¡¯s body like she needed it to breathe. The wolf took a step forward and stumbled. blood streaming from its eyes, nose, and mouth. It retched violently, its body convulsing uncontrollably under the effects of the venom. All she needed to do was outlast it and she would outlast it. She would make sure this fucking dog died if it was the last thing she would going to do.
The wolf lunged, and she threw herself to the ground, narrowly avoiding its jaws. The beast crashed into a tree with a sickening crack but recovered quickly, its glowing eyes locked onto her again. Freja scrambled to her feet and ran, the forest around her a shadowy labyrinth under the thick canopy. Without Bjorn to guide her, the darkness pressed in, making it hard to see.
She stumbled just as the wolf¡¯s jaws snapped shut inches above her head, its teeth slicing through the air where she had been moments before. The wolf staggered, too dazed to pounce immediately. Freja seized the brief advantage, darting in another direction, her heart pounding like a war drum.
She pumped mana into her body and increased her speed in hopes she could give herself some distance. For whatever reason the stray thought of the odd mental projection magic popped into her mind. She didn¡¯t know why she was thinking about it at that moment.
Mana Muscle Saturation
Magic cost: 1
Push your mana into your muscles and bones to temporarily increase your physical attributes.
Freja had never considered Mana Muscle Saturation a ¡°spell¡±¡ªit was a natural ability for her people, one that Julie and Mat had marveled at. Yet her chaotic magic core had always held her back, limiting her strength compared to others of her kind. Her magic would only allow her physicality to increase by a small margin. All of that had changed thanks to Bjorn and the familiar contract.
As the refined mana coursed through her, her senses sharpened to an extraordinary degree. The darkness of the forest dissolved into clarity. She heard the faint pattering of paws behind her¡ªthe wolf was gaining. Trusting her heightened instincts, she waited until the last possible second to veer sharply to the right, the earth crunching beneath her feet as she narrowly avoided the wolf¡¯s claws. Behind her, the beast crashed into another tree with a furious snarl, unable to turn as quickly as she could. Freja didn¡¯t look back. She ran with every ounce of strength she had, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours.
Then the forest thinned, and a new stench hit her nose¡ªa sickening mix of decay and rot. She nearly gagged but had no choice but to keep moving. Diving through a bush, she rolled just as the wolf lunged overhead, its snapping jaws missing her by inches. When she stopped, she froze. She was surrounded by the bloated, rotting remains of a herd of cattle. The sight was grotesque, their hollow eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Why were they here, in the middle of the forest?
The wolf¡¯s snarl snapped her out of her daze. She scrambled to her feet as it closed the distance, her legs trembling with exhaustion. Then she saw it¡ªa structure, no, multiple structures rising like a mirage in the dense woods. A village? A safe haven? She didn¡¯t know, but she wasn¡¯t going to waste the chance.
She bolted toward the nearest building, screaming, ¡°Help! Someone! There¡¯s a steel wolf!¡±
Slamming into the door, she found it unlocked and tumbled inside, throwing herself against it to barricade the entrance. The wolf hit the door moments later, its massive weight making the wood groan ominously. Freja braced herself, digging her heels into the ground as the beast snarled and slammed against the barrier again and again.
The door creaked under the strain, but the wolf¡¯s attacks grew weaker, its snarls turning to desperate whimpers. Freja held her breath as she heard it limping away, vomiting once more before collapsing with a dull thud outside. She didn¡¯t dare open the door. Instead, her legs gave out beneath her, and she slid to the floor, trembling. Bjorn¡¯s body was still in her arms, his blood sticky against her skin. She couldn¡¯t move.
She could only cry. Her sobs came in waves, wracking her body as she clung to him, the weight of her loss suffocating. There was no relief, no victory, only the hollow ache of grief. She cried, and she cried, the sound echoing in the empty room like a broken song.
SND [15] The Girl and the Treant
Freja woke with a start, her eyes burning and her head pounding with the relentless onset of a headache. She couldn¡¯t recall when she¡¯d drifted off, but she was still slumped against the door, the cold wood pressing against her back. A solitary light crystal perched on a cupboard cast its sharp, crystalline glow across the unfamiliar home she had invaded. She didn¡¯t want to move¡ªthe soreness in her muscles only deepened the weight of her despair.
Bjorn was dead. The metallic tang of his blood clung to her skin, the scent sharp, it threatened to unearth the tears she had barely managed to hold back. There was no one left for her. No one who cared. No one who would come searching. The thought gripped her chest like a vice. Perhaps she should die too. She could craft a poison; it would be her final work. It would end it all. She could surrender to the peace of the Forest Father¡¯s embrace. Maybe then, the Salstars would finally be rid of her, their family disgrace erased, their reputation untarnished by her continued existence.
A faint sound, a breath, shattered her spiraling thoughts. It wasn¡¯t hers. The realization jolted her into the present. Freja looked down, cradling Bjorn¡¯s still form in her arms. Her heart lurched violently in her chest. Bjorn¡¯s chest rose and fell. Slowly. Steadily.
Warmth radiated from his body, his heart beating strong beneath her fingertips. He was alive? Alive. How was it possible? She traced his form with trembling eyes, disbelief taking root. Hours ago, his neck had been severed¡ªhis head ripped clean from his body. Somehow where one neck should have been, there were two. The serpentine forms curled protectively around her shoulders, their presence surreal.
She wasn¡¯t losing her mind, was she? No. She could feel it¡ªthe familiar bond between them pulsed stronger than ever, thrumming with life and magic. She didn¡¯t understand but if Bjorn was dead the connection would have broken. So it was true. Her breath hitched, and a sob tried to claw its way free, but she choked it down, holding him tighter.
This wasn¡¯t the time to cry. Bjorn was alive, she didn¡¯t know how but he was alive. Freja buried the torrent of questions and doubts clawing at her mind. She needed to find help, and she needed to find it now. She frantically forced herself to stand, her muscles groaned in objection but she powered through.
She carefully placed Bjorn down on the nearby table. Looking him over for any signs of his injuries. There were faint patches of new scales which shined with a more brilliant luster than his older ones. They seemed to be the only proof that he had nearly died earlier that day.
¡°You¡¯re not losing it, Freja. Hold it together.¡± She said to herself.
She continued her examination and found that he was fine, probably in better shape at that moment than she was. She didn¡¯t know how long he would sleep for. She didn¡¯t know how long she had slept for either. However, judging from the rays of twilight she was seeing out the window they had been there for hours already. She sat down in the tableside chair with a huff.
She felt the familiar bond reach out to her and she examined her core again. The bond had grown by an order of magnitude. What would normally take months happened in only a few days. Bjorn was now a Delta-class familiar. Delta was the first class, which meant that their bond was far more stable. She could feel his emotions and vice versa. More importantly, the bond was harder to break and more of her mana could be stabilized.
Status Menu
Name: Freja Thundersky Salstar
Species: Wendigo
+ Level: 8
Vitality: 9
Restoration: 2
Constitution: 2
Willpower: 8
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 4
Stamina: 2
Magic: 16
Magic Regeneration: 25 (+100 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Delta Familiar Contract
You are bonded with a Delta-class familiar. You gain +100 to magic regeneration. Your bond has grown, allowing you to convey emotions though your bond. Your bond is more resilient to outside influences and can not be forcibly severed by outside parties. Your familiar¡¯s life expectancy is extended by five years.
Mystic Wind Hands
Magic cost: 3
Speak the words of power and call forth mystic hands created from the wind. These hands can interact with the world and will act out the caster¡¯s will.
Mana Manipulation
Magic cost: Variable
Manipulate the pure mana inside and around your body. Allows you to circulate your mana and use mana-dependent tools.
Mana Muscle Saturation
Magic cost: 1
Push mana into your muscles and bones to temporarily increase your physical attributes.
+ Fire Wisp
Magic cost: 10
Beginner level basic defensive fire wisp. Call on the elemental power of fire which will launch from your hand and burn the target. This self defense magic causes basic burns.
Page 2 of 2
She blinked at the information, finally seeing the benefit in the mental projection magic. She had forgotten about her Fire Wisp spell. It was the only attack magic she actually knew, but she had never cast it successfully. She attempted during the troll attack but failed as she always had. Now that it was in her skill list could she actually do it? She was stronger thanks to Bjorn. Before she could close the window a second one appeared, causing her to open her eyes wide at the implications.
Unassigned Cultivation Points Distribution
You have 10 UCP
Please assign all UCP within 10 days or it will be automatically assigned.
Assign [yes/no]
She was a cultivator now; how had that happened? She needed more time to think, and her mind was already frazzled. She closed all of the menus and put her mind back on the situation at hand. She needed to find help and find out whose home she broke into. Her eyes swept the room, taking in her surroundings for the first time.
The wendigo¡¯s minimalist aesthetic was unmistakable¡ªa design philosophy driven by practicality and longevity. Function over form. Every item in the room served a purpose, built to endure centuries, perhaps even millennia, for generations yet to come. The sparse decorations reflected this mentality. The walls were bare, but the space was clearly lived in. Strips of drying meat hung in the window. Clothes were scattered near the bed at the far side of the room. Children¡¯s toys lay abandoned on the floor, untouched for hours¡ªor perhaps days.
Her gaze settled on the hearth, where a pot of food sat cold and half-prepared, the fire beneath reduced to ash. A prickling unease began to seep into her thoughts. The silence was so unnatural. No voices, no movement. Then she remembered even the animals outside were slaughtered en masse. Her eyes darted toward the broken window, and her breath hitched. Dried blood streaked the frame¡ªa long smear trailing out, as if someone had been dragged away.
Her heart thundered in her chest as dread clawed its way into her mind. She had survived a druid familiar, but where was the druid? She moved swiftly, scooping Bjorn up from the table and rushing to the bed. It was small¡ªtoo small for her¡ªbut she carefully tucked him beneath it, ensuring he was as hidden as possible.
Freja cast a desperate glance around the room before yanking the curtains shut. As she approached the broken window on the farside to close the curtain she froze. The magic hit her before her eyes found him. It was a knotted, twisting corruption of the natural world, a crawling wrongness that scraped against her instincts. She had never felt druidic magic before, but she¡¯d read about it, heard war veterans speak of its unnerving touch. The descriptions hadn¡¯t done it justice. It was a primal violation, something that whispered to her very bones that this was an abomination.
Rage filled her heart as she thought about how some druid tree fucker was out here, in her country, targeting her people and trying to kill her. She couldn¡¯t just leave, knowing that whomever was out in the forest was the owner of the familiar who had killed who knows how many people. Most of all she wanted the druid to pay for hurting Bjorn.
Freja crouched low, peering out cautiously. What she saw made her breath hitch. The druid man was definitely a soldier; his mossy green combat robes attested to his allegiances. Well, what was left of his uniform and of him. His outfit was torn to shreds, and dried blood, dirt and only the Forest Father knows what else clung to him. One of his antlers was broken.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Magic stitched him together in a grotesque mockery, his broken form little more than a marionette held upright by sheer will. Right arm, left leg, most of his side, neck and face were living wood prosthetics hastily formed and rotting at the edges. He reeked of decay, the foul stench of festering wounds mingling with the sour tang of druidic magic. As he walked he had to prop himself up with his staff, each step causing old wounds to reopen and fresh blood to drip.
She took a dry gulp. This was not a regular druid, not anymore. He was devolving, turning into a monster, a lesser druid, a treant. He wasn¡¯t all the way there although he was close. Things were getting more dangerous if he fully changed, she was dead and there would be nothing she could do about it. His wounds would heal and his control over plants would make everything in the forest an extension of his magic.
¡°Gordo. Gordo, buddy, no¡ªno, no!¡± he cried, stumbling toward the dead steel wolf. He fell to his knees beside it, his trembling hands shaking the lifeless creature. ¡°Stay with me! I¡¯ll get you healed, okay? Just hold on.¡±
Freja hesitated. His anguish was raw, almost disarming. Beneath the monstrous veneer, there was still something painfully wendigo about him. It was unsettling. Druids and wendigo were eerily similar, after all, both bearing echoes of the Forest Father¡¯s appearance. However, their differences were stark: the broad, flat antlers of the druid, the sharp, deer-like antlers of the wendigo; herbivore versus carnivore, plant eater versus meat eater. Opposites, yet reflections.
The treant¡¯s trembling voice rose into a guttural wail as he slammed a fist into the ground. His magic surged outward in a violent pulse, tendrils of nature crawling over the soil in jagged, unnatural lines. Freja stiffened as the aura brushed her, a sickening sensation crawling over her skin.
His head snapped up. His unfocused eyes darted wildly before narrowing, his expression twisting with fury.
¡°Where are you, you fuckin¡¯ cannibal savage?¡± he roared, his voice raw with pain and rage. ¡°I can feel your cursed magic! I know you¡¯re there! Get out here, coward! Savage! Look at what you¡¯ve done!¡±
He cradled the wolf¡¯s lifeless body, his voice cracking as he whispered, ¡°Don¡¯t close your eyes, Gordo. Please¡¡±
Freja backed away from the window, her steps measured and silent. Attacking that thing head-on would be suicide¡ªno matter how much rage burned in her chest. She wasn¡¯t foolish; she knew hiding was the only chance she had, but fate, as always, had other plans.
Her foot landed on one of the many wooden toys scattered across the floor. It was a remnant of the home''s former residents. It shifted beneath her weight, sending her off balance. She toppled backward with a loud thud that echoed through the hollowed-out house.
The treant outside froze, its anguished wails replaced by a low, guttural snarl. A heartbeat later, it roared and slammed itself against the door with such force that the hinges snapped, and the entire house shuddered.
Freja''s eyes darted to the bed where Bjorn lay hidden. He was well-concealed; the treant wouldn¡¯t see him unless it deliberately moved the bed. There was no time to think. No time to grab him. She¡¯d have to lead the creature away¡ªher life be damned if it meant saving his.
Scrambling to her feet, she barely had time to brace herself as another earth-shaking crash obliterated the door. The entrance burst apart in a shower of splinters and bricks, the debris clouding the air. She held out her hand and yelled the incantation for Fire Wisp. She feared it would fail as it always had. She didn¡¯t even have her wand to focus the magic. However, a flame erupted from her outstretched palm and hit the treant in the chest as it barreled into the room.
The flame erupted on impact but did little to slow the creature. He saw her and with his staff said a spell of its own ignoring the fire entirely. Freja didn¡¯t wait to see what it would do. She forced mana into her legs, propelling herself out of the broken window just as the treant unleashed his spell.
The side of the house exploded in a chaotic eruption of jagged wooden spikes. Freja hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs. Rolling to her feet, she cast a frantic glance at the house. Relief washed over her when she saw the bed remained untouched.
The treant came into view faster than his form looked like it should allow. Freja turned and ran, her feet pounding the uneven ground. The village around her was a graveyard of memories, its empty homes overtaken by nature. Vines snaked over walls, and plant life crept through the cracks, reclaiming the abandoned settlement. She glanced back just in time to see a spike erupt from the ground, missing her by inches.
Gritting her teeth, she rounded a corner, weaving between crumbling buildings. Another spike shot up, narrowly missing her back as she sprinted deeper into the village. A flickering light ahead caught her eye¡ªa bonfire in what must have once been the village square. She slowed, realizing she had lost the treant.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body screaming for rest. Spotting a nearby house, she darted inside, ignoring the bloodstains smeared across the floor. She eased the door shut, leaving only a thin crack to peek through. The treant staggered into view, its broken body heaving with every breath.
She looked around the house whispering a spell and forming the two Wind Hands. She knew that this was not going to end as long as one of them was still alive and she was not going to die. She saw a set of knives and directed her constructs to pick up one each. Quietly she opened the window on the side of the house away from the door and slipped out. She then took one of the knives from one of the Wind Hands and directed it to knock something over.
The treant reacted immediately and violently. With a wave of his staff the building was a pincushion of wooden spikes. He had apparently learned from the last time he mindlessly rushed into a house. Freja was happy that she had already exited and waited in anticipation as the spikes retracted.
Things seemed to slow down as the treant approached the devastated home to confirm his kill. As soon as his focus was entirely on the doorway she steeled her nerves and struck.
One of her Wind Hands had been destroyed but the other flew forward with deadly accuracy. The knife flew through the air as a flash. The treant reacted in the last possible moment. It raised its arm to avoid being struck in the neck. He dropped his staff as he screamed in pain. Freja didn¡¯t hesitate. She darted out from the shadows, her own knife raised high. She screamed, a raw, guttural cry of desperation, and lunged toward the beast.
The treant struck her mid-charge. A crushing blow sent her sprawling to the ground, pain exploding through her ribs as she gasped for air. She scrambled to her knees, clutching her side, and looked up to see it retrieve its staff. Its glowing eyes turned on her, now burning with an indignation that made her blood run cold.
Freja¡¯s grip tightened on her knife, but doubt began to creep in. What was she thinking? Her life had been relatively peaceful; of course her family was the worst but she didn¡¯t live with them, she lived at the academy. She¡¯d never even been in a fight before now. A few days ago and the top of her worries were about grades and fitting in.
Why did she think she would be able to fight back against the treant when it had killed so many people before her. Up until the troll and the shadow wolves¡¯ attack she¡¯d never even considered learning combat magic or fighting. For all intent and purposes she was a normal girl placed in a shitty situation. He took another step towards her, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed.
¡°You did that to him? You fucking killed my familiar.¡± He accused.
¡°Well he tried to kill me first, and he hurt my familiar,¡± Freja said with equal resolve.
The treant sneered, his jaw clenched tight. ¡°You don¡¯t matter,¡± he growled, venom dripping from every word. ¡°You and your cursed kind deserve nothing more than to rot as fertilizer for the forest. If those damned trolls hadn¡¯t wiped out my squad, you¡¯d already be hanging from the branches of a hundred trees. Your entrails splayed for the Forest Father to witness. This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to end!¡±
He pointed a shaking finger toward something in the distance. Freja turned, her stomach twisting into knots. What she saw broke her. Bodies hung from the trees, their limbs severed and posed like grotesque ornaments. Blood had painted the ground, the bark, and the air itself seemed thick with death. Freja doubled over, retching bile as her empty stomach offered nothing else.
Freja took a shaky breath. ¡°Even if you kill me. One day you are going to get what you deserve. You will be buried in the ground where your soul will never reach the Forest Father.¡±
¡°And you will get what you deserve, trust me, savage,¡± he said as he walked towards her.
The treant rushed toward Freja with surprising speed. He was no athlete any more, but the fact he could run at all with his injuries was shocking. He reached her in a few heartbeats and swung at her with his staff. She scrambled to her feet jumping out of the way right as the staff hit the ground with a hollow thunk.
Everything was ringing for a moment as Freja tried to recover her balance, only for the treant''s staff to sweep her legs out from under her. The air was knocked out of her as her back hit the ground. She only had moments to regain her bearings and see that the treant was swinging his staff towards her head.
She rolled to her side and she heard the clunk of the staff hitting the ground where her head had been a moment earlier. She continued to roll as again and again the staff hit the ground. She directed the Wind Hand to strike him in the back and it crashed into him, knife first, leaving him wailing with pain and fury.
She was so flustered she forgot to have the hand release the knife, leading it to be dispelled on impact. The treant was on the ground, his staff having been dropped when he was hit. Freja realized that he couldn¡¯t use any more of his magic. His last attack left him vulnerable and he had to dedicate the rest of his mana to holding himself together. Every ounce of his strength was being used to keep himself alive. Freja wasted no time in standing up; she needed to capitalize on his injuries.
Freja forced herself to her feet, her muscles screaming in protest. Her gaze darted to the staff lying a few feet away. It was a striking fusion of wood and metal, twisted together in a way that was both beautiful and practical¡ªa weapon forged for war, not ceremony. She stumbled toward it, her fingers curling around the polished grip. The staff was heavier than she expected, its weight grounding her as she lifted it over her head. She charged the treant, aiming to end the fight.
He wasn¡¯t done yet. The treant raised his wooden arm, the gnarled appendage splintering but holding as it absorbed the blow. With a guttural roar, he shoved her back, his unnatural strength sending her flying. She crashed into the side of a nearby building, the impact rattling her bones. Pain lanced through her. She crumpled to the ground in a heap, her vision swimming as her head throbbed with a pounding ache. A concussion, she realized numbly.
This is it, she thought. I¡¯m going to die. Her body refused to move, every inch of her screaming in protest. She could only watch, helpless, as the treant dragged himself to his feet. His steps were slow but deliberate, each one carrying him closer to her.
The treant loomed, its glowing eyes fixed on her with cold malice. Freja¡¯s breath hitched as tears blurred her vision. She had fought as hard as she could, but what chance did a girl with no training stand against a seasoned war mage and his monstrous familiar?
SND [16] Why Does It Still Hurt?
Bjorn jumped awake, hissing and confused. He needed to protect Freja from the wolves, they had to get out of there now. Why was he asleep, what happened? He couldn¡¯t stand up, something was on top of him. He squirmed for a moment seeing double and his vision didn¡¯t seem to be getting any clearer.
The last thing he remembered was breathing out the poison cloud, then nothing but darkness and pain. He coughed, his throat dry and scratchy. He tried to focus on his vision; he was still seeing double. It was starting to become more normal to him. It was less like an affliction caused by injury and more of a new natural. He crawled out from what he recognized was actually a bed. He was in a house although it looked as if an explosion went off.
His mind was swimming and he couldn¡¯t really focus. That¡¯s when he noticed his neck was touching something. He turned and saw himself staring back at him. Startled, his necks reeled back, getting a good look at what he was seeing. He was seeing himself from two different angles at the same time. He had sprouted a second head, which only made him confused.
¡°Failsafe?¡± Bjorn called for him mentally. ¡°You there buddy?¡±
¡°Ugh, yeah, unfortunately.¡± Failsafe groaned. ¡°I thought the last fight you put us through hurt.¡±
¡°Was this your doing? What happened to me?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Do what,¡± Failsafe was quiet for a moment. ¡°No, it appears this is just a natural thing that you do now,¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°You got our head bitten off and man did that suck. But hey, we aren¡¯t dead. Let''s not do that again though. Getting decapitated is not conducive to a long life.¡±
Bjorn felt his magic returning to him far faster than ever before. Maybe it had something to do with his new head. It was starting to be less dizzying to move them independently. It was instinctual in that way.
¡°Wouldn¡¯t they just grow back?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Maybe, but probably not,¡± Failsafe continued. ¡°It took way more magic than you currently have to do this. The only reason we survived this time is because the wolf died.¡± He squealed in excitement. ¡°Wait-wait, I just thought of something.¡±
Failsafe went quiet, and shortly after Bjorn¡¯s vision returned to normal. He looked at his second head, which was bobbing up and down without him doing it.
¡°Failsafe, is that you?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Yep I have a body now! Look out world,¡± Failsafe said in triumph. ¡°Well, I have a head.¡±
¡°How are you doing that? Can you take control of me?¡± Bjorn asked, feeling uneasy at the development.
¡°No, the only thing I can do is take control of one of your heads, and only if you let me. We can switch if you want, or you can kick me out, but I call dibs on the right side,¡± Failsafe responded casually.
The answer was still worrying but there wasn¡¯t much he could do right now anyway. Bjorn stood up, his movements didn¡¯t seem to be impeded by Failsafe controlling the other head. He needed to know what was going on, where was Freja, and where were they? The house he was in was devastated, it looked as if something tore its way in, then blew its way out.
¡°Any idea what this is about,¡± Bjorn asked.
Failsafe bobbed up and down his eyes scanning the environment completely wonderstruck.
¡°Nope.¡± Failsafe responded simply. ¡°We should look around more.¡±
Bjorn decided first he would locate Freja; he found the familiar bond and tugged on it. Far more power than he had ever received from the bond flooded back to him. It was nearly overwhelming. He had to calm his nerves and open his status menus to see what happened.
Status Menu
Name: Bjorn Salstar
Species: Unknown
+ Level: 2
+ Vitality: 15
+ Restoration: 25
+ Constitution: 6
+ Willpower: 6
+ Strength: 3
+ Dexterity: 10
+ Stamina: 5
+ Magic: 1
+ Magic Regeneration: 2 (+100 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Reincarnation Failsafe
An incomplete reincarnation magic and your best friend that has your back no matter what!
Venomous Bite
Magic Cost: 0
You have a neurotoxic venom which can be injected through a bite with your fangs.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
With your right head you can mix your venom into the air using magic creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal overtime.
+ Delta Familiar Contract
Magic Cost: -100
You are a bonded delta class familiar. You gain +100 to magic regeneration. Your bond has grown, allowing you to convey your emotions though your bond. Your bond is more resilient to outside influences and cannot be forcibly severed by outside parties.
King of the Reptiles
Passive Skill
Dragons, lizards, amphibians all show hesitation and fear around you, going so far as to run away from you. More study needed.
+ Head Regeneration?
Magic Cost: 40-ish (Was kinda decapitated at the time so numbers may be off.)
Currently only usable if fallen beasts powers the regrowth. Major wounds including decapitation can be healed. (More study needed but not recommended we try again.)
Page 2 of 2
A second pop up covered the first screen.
Unassigned Cultivation Points Distribution
You have leveled up 2 times before assigning your UCP.
You have 20 UCP
Please assign all UCP within 9 day(s) or UCP will be automatically assigned.
Assign [yes/no]
¡°Is there any reason not to put all of this into magic?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°Your magic core is currently not capable of holding twenty points in magic,¡± Failsafe said after some consideration. ¡°Your body is too immature right now. At most you can hold five points in magic.¡±
¡°Only five?¡± Bjorn asked.
¡°You are barely a week old,¡± Failsafe responded. ¡°Six points maybe, but that would be pushing it. After all you¡¯re currently the strongest newborn I know.¡±
¡°I am the only newborn you know¡ I guess you¡¯re right, I don¡¯t want to stress out this young body too much,¡± Bjorn stated as he thought about it. ¡°That leaves sixteen points. Do I have any other limitations on where I can place them?¡±
¡°Yes, all the stats have limits,¡± Failsafe said.
¡°Add an automatic limiter to prevent me from being able to put more into one stat than my body can handle,¡± Bjorn ordered.
Failsafe responded cheerily, ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be a problem. I¡¯ll make it so the first number is your current stat and the second is the limit with your maturation. If you ever reach a point that you level faster than your maturation I can burn the extra point, maturing you faster.¡±
¡°Sounds good, and what about the Familiar Contract?¡± Bjorn asked. ¡°A hundred to my magic regeneration isn¡¯t causing any issues?¡±
Failsafe responded in a dismissive way. ¡°No, but that¡¯s only because of the contract itself. Any magic you can¡¯t absorb from it is just being recycled into the bond, making it stronger over time. You still have a while before it¡¯s irreversible, but unless we get Freja talking about it, anything I say is based on observation.¡±
¡°What about my memories?¡± Bjorn asked.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
¡°Next time we sleep we will get some of those too.¡± Failsafe said, though he looked to be half paying attention.
Bjorn rolled his eyes and selected [yes]. He placed his stats so he would be able to make best use of his body. He needed to be able to move faster and strike with his venom without being hit back in return. When he¡¯d wrapped himself around the first shadow wolf it had managed to react and claw at him.
If he¡¯d been faster he could have escaped the wolf before it would bite off his head. Then again he had his regeneration, which could even regrow his head. For now he needed to be all-around better. His pup body couldn¡¯t keep up and at least for now a strong foundation would be the way to go.
Status Menu
Name: Bjorn Salstar
Species: Unknown
Level: 2
Vitality: 15 / 35
Restoration: 25 / 50
+ Constitution: 8 / 15
+ Willpower: 8 / 15
+ Strength: 6 / 15
+ Dexterity: 12 / 20
+ Stamina: 7 / 15
+ Magic: 5 / 5
+ Magic Regeneration: 3 / 20 (+100 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
¡°There, all set,¡± Bjorn said. ¡°Let¡¯s find out what¡¯s going on.¡±
Bjorn stepped out of the splintered remains of the front door. There his eyes opened wide and his breath quickened. The steel wolf was in a heap but that wasn¡¯t what caught his attention. He recognized the scent in the air. It is death, laced in nature magic. The creature he wanted to avoid at all costs. Why were they here? Why in this village of all places? He didn¡¯t recognize it at first. The village had been completely reclaimed by the forest.
He felt something pulling at him through the bond. It was fear, determination, self sacrifice. He was feeling Freja¡¯s emotions. She was in danger, she was fighting that thing. Somewhere in the village. He pulled on the bond and felt her direction like a compass pointing north. Now was not the time for hesitation, he ran as fast as he could.
Ahead, an explosion ripped through the air as a house erupted into a deadly array of spikes. Bjorn skidded to a stop, his heart pounding. The treant loomed near the wreckage, its gnarled form advancing. For a brief, sickening moment, he thought he¡¯d lost her¡ªuntil the bond pulsed again. Freja was alive. He caught sight of her then, springing from the wreckage with her wind-forged hand, her movements swift but far from practiced as she slashed at the creature.
The fight wasn¡¯t going her way. She landed a few blows, only to be swatted aside with brutal force. Her body hit a building with a sickening crunch before crumpling to the ground. Bjorn¡¯s vision tunneled. The treant staggered toward her prone form, its jagged limbs reaching hungrily.
Not today.
Bjorn surged forward, mana igniting in his claws. Toxic vapor hissed and curled around him, eating at the ground as he leapt. His claws tore into the treant¡¯s back, carving deep, sizzling furrows. The creature howled in agony, its wooden limbs twisting unnaturally as it thrashed, trying to dislodge him. Bjorn clung on, ripping and tearing with feral fury until a massive swipe nearly sent him flying.
Bjorn was already thankful of his increases in speed as he jumped from its back just in time. The treant was already chanting before he landed on the ground. Bjorn barely had time to register the danger before Freja, battered but standing, charged into the fray. With a cry of desperation, she swung the creature¡¯s war staff, slamming it into the side of its head. The blow cut its spell short and staggered the monster. She had to run back as a retaliatory swipe of its hand barely missed her.
¡°Bjorn do it again!¡± Freja yelled. ¡°The poison breath! Do it quickly, he is going to devolve and heal!¡±
She ran to Bjorn and dove behind him to get out of the way of the attack. She knew what to expect and Bjorn wasn¡¯t going to disappoint. The creature turned to look at them. Its eyes darkened into hollow orbs as his wooden half started to spread over the flesh. It let out a guttural wail devoid of anything but the beast it was becoming.
Bjorn¡¯s instincts roared to life. Heat built in his chest, molten and unbearable. His heartbeat thundered as mana surged through him, boiling in his veins. He drew in a deep breath, his throat searing as if aflame, and unleashed the magic.
The result wasn¡¯t the expected poisonous cloud. Instead, a sickly green fire erupted from his jaws, consuming the air in a wide, violent bloom. The flames shimmered, shifting into a haunting purple hue, violet lightning crackling within the inferno as it expanded.
Freja cursed loudly, scrambling backward as the flames roared to life, licking hungrily at the village and forest. The treant shrieked, its form consumed in the toxic blaze. Bjorn collapsed to his side, his mana reserves drained, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the spell. The village and forest were quickly becoming alight with the inferno. Toxic purple flames licked at the air.
***
Freja couldn¡¯t believe what she had just witnessed. Bjorn had breathed toxic purple fire. The unnatural flames erupted in a violent bloom, consuming everything in their path. She stood frozen, watching as the treant disappeared beneath the inferno, its form writhing and splintering into a sea of embers. Then came the wails. The treant¡¯s agonized screams shattered the silence, jolting Freja from her stupor. The sound was raw, more a broken melody of pain than a scream. Freja sprinted toward Bjorn, scooping the small lizard under her arm.
¡°Bjorn!¡± she gasped, clutching him tightly. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so happy you¡¯re okay! I thought I lost you, baby.¡±
Her other hand gripped the war staff she had taken from the druid. Her legs burned, her lungs heaved, but she didn¡¯t dare stop. The treant¡¯s cries should have been fading, but instead, they seemed closer, louder. Freja risked a glance over her shoulder and her stomach turned.
The treant was crawling after them, its once-massive body reduced to a carbonized husk. Flesh and wood sloughed off its frame with every movement, flaking into ash. Despite the heavy injuries it dragged itself forward with unrelenting speed gaining on her with every pull of its arms. Its limbs scraped the ground, each motion punctuated by a hideous wail that echoed like a dirge. Its voice was ruined, a ghastly rasp.
Freja¡¯s foot caught on a root, and she fell hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs. She tumbled, rolling over Bjorn in her attempt to shield him. Pain shot through her, but Bjorn recovered faster. The feral growl, the lizard launched himself at the treant. His claws and teeth tore into the scorched remains, forcing the creature to veer away from Freja as it thrashed to dislodge him.
Freja scrambled to her feet, the war staff her only support. Her vision swam, her body screaming in protest, but she couldn¡¯t stop. Bjorn needed her. The treant¡¯s arm lashed out, knocking Bjorn aside. Freja raised the staff and charged, adrenaline dulling her fear. She brought the weapon down with all her strength, aiming for the creature¡¯s head. The impact sent a sickening crunch reverberating through her arms.
The treant shrieked, its wooden skull splintering¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t enough. Its grotesque body writhed as new growth spiraled over the injury, sealing the wound with unnatural speed. One of its legs lashed out, catching Freja square in the stomach. She stumbled back, gasping for air, her grip on the staff the only thing keeping her upright.
¡°Forest Father help me. Deliver me from this savage!¡± The treant called out in a voice that echoed with mana. ¡°Curse her, strike her dead! Father¡¡±
That wasn¡¯t a good sign. It could speak again, it was healing faster than Bjorn and she could hurt it. Freja regained her composure and ran over; she lifted the staff again, aiming for his head and neck. She struck him again and again until he finally stopped moving.
Bjorn jumped off once the body stopped moving. She kept striking, her screams ripping from her throat as she let her rage, her fear, her grief pour into every swing. She didn¡¯t stop until her arms burned, until the treant¡¯s head was unrecognizable, its remains a scattered mess of gore, splinters, and ash.
Freja staggered back, chest heaving, the staff slipping from her trembling hands. She stared at the carnage, her mind spinning. The forest around her seemed darker, heavier, as if it were closing in. She turned away, nausea rising in her throat, and doubled over, dry heaving until bile burned her throat. Her hands and clothes were caked in blood and gore, the acrid smell clinging to her skin. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn¡¯t understand why. He deserved it. He had to die. It was him or her.
She continued to try and rationalize it, but it came back around to the fact she just killed someone. A real person. Justified or not she killed him. She killed someone. A cold wind caused her to shiver as she attempted to wipe some of the blood and tears from her face.
Bjorn curled up next to her their bond now allowed her to feel his emotions. His care, his concern for her was just as warm as she had hoped. She walked a few paces away next to a tree and sat down. Bjorn joined her. She spoke softly, but even she didn¡¯t know what she had said.
They survived, they won, and they¡¯d killed an evil-evil man. The world went wobbly as tears again formed. She petted the lizard with a bitter smile across her face.
¡°He was going to kill us. His people are the enemy, right? So, why does it still hurt?¡± Freja asked, her voice trembling. ¡°All of the veterans always talked about it like it was a good thing to kill a druid. Honorable. But that? Honorable? I should feel vindicated. I killed one of those¡ I mean they killed my sister.¡±
Her vision blurred, exhaustion pulling at her. Every bruise, every ache screamed for rest. She closed her eyes, the image of the treant¡¯s shattered body burned into her mind. Desperate for distraction, she summoned the mental projection of her status. The familiar glow of her magic flickered to life, a hollow comfort as she tried to focus on anything but the weight of what she¡¯d done.
Status Menu
Name: Freja Thundersky Salstar
Species: Wendigo
+ Level: 9
Vitality: 9
Restoration: 2
Constitution: 2
Willpower: 8
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 4
Stamina: 2
Magic: 16
Magic Regeneration: 25 (+100 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
She had risen another level, although she didn¡¯t really know what that meant. Until the second pop-up appeared again.
Unassigned Cultivation Points Distribution
You have leveled up again before assigning your UCP.
You have 20 UCP
Please assign all UCP within 5 days or it will be automatically assigned.
Assign [yes/no]
¡°So, level has something to do with how powerful I am, or at least how many points I can use. I get points by killing things? The number of days I have dropped in half, too,¡± Freja mused out loud. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about cultivators, but I¡¯m pretty sure my great-great grandfather was one.¡± She thought about it for a little while. ¡°Yes.¡±
The status menu reopened; this time there were little plus icons next to each of her stats. She thought about the possibilities. Right now her main goal was to leave the country. She didn¡¯t want to entertain the possibility of running into her family again. As long as she was in Yuhia there was always a risk. She just wanted to start over and actually learn magic now that she could. She wanted to increase her knowledge and travel the world. Hope filled her for the first time in a long while. She had options.
She placed her stat points with a focus on magic, but with an understanding that she was going to be walking a lot. So some strength and stamina was a given. She looked at her new stats and confirmed the changes.
Status Menu
Name: Freja Thundersky Salstar
Species: Wendigo
Level: 9
+ Vitality: 10
+ Restoration: 4
Constitution: 2
Willpower: 8
+ Strength: 5
Dexterity: 4
+ Stamina: 8
+ Magic: 24
Magic Regeneration: 25 (+100 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Interlude [16.5] Power of Prodigies Part 1
There are many types of familiars, and many natural paths they can take as the bond evolves. First is the proto-bond. It is the most basic and where all relationships between master and familiar start. From there it can go one of two ways. They can become an alpha familiar which is a rare bond born through shared adversity and a trust in each other that so rarely happens that it is more a myth than actuality. For most pairs they follow the traditional route of Delta, Iota and finally Sigma.
The sigma was where most bonds reach their apex but for Ingrid, that was insufficient. Her ambitions demanded more, and to realize her goals, she and her familiar, the lesser wither dragon Viggo, undertook an extraordinary ritual. This arcane ceremony bound them in ways beyond imagination, intertwining their minds, bodies, and souls. In doing so, they became one¡ªa fusion of wendigo and dragon, inseparable and eternal. Together, as a single entity, Ingrid achieved her destiny as the Sword of the Salstars.
The first rays of dawn barely pierced the thick morning mist, casting a pale, spectral glow over the dew covered field. The fortress loomed in the distance, its spiked walls and watchtowers stark against the horizon. Inside, the soldiers stirred, their discipline evident even in the predawn silence. To any observer, it appeared every bit the wendigo stronghold: banners emblazoned with the emblem of the Salstars, rows of mounted siege weapons, and sentries pacing in calculated patterns.
It was all a facade and Ingrid¡¯s troops played their parts well. The fort had been built for the purpose of leading druids to their death. A fake poorly protected target which would be perfect for the invasion force that believed they snuck into their lands to pillage and burn.
Perched atop a jagged ridge overlooking the fortress, Ingrid loomed but not in the form of a wendigo, but in the form of her familiar dragon. She was the hulking bone white lesser wither dragon her form wreathed in draconic magic. Her wings spread wide, each membrane glistening with an otherworldly sheen as the faint breeze rippled through them. Below, her claws dug into the earth, the grass withering and dying where she stood.
A voice rang out from beside her. ¡°Milady, the scouts have reported. There has been movement from the druid camp.¡±
Ingrid looked down at the woman in acknowledgement. She was in full blue steel plate armor but instead of a helmet she wore only a vail and hood which covered her face. Her name was Thyra, she was Ingrid¡¯s Right Hand and would act out her will.
¡°Good,¡± Ingrid replied simply, her voice a deep breathy rumble. ¡°Prepare yourself, Thyra. I expect you will distinguish yourself in this skirmish.¡±
¡°Of course Milady.¡± Thyra said in a bow. ¡°I will never disappoint.¡±
The trap was set, the druids drawn like moths to a flame. They would see this fortress as a target too tempting to ignore: a supposed bastion of the wendigo''s power, isolated in the plains and ripe for assault. The fools. Ingrid''s lips curled back in a draconic grin, revealing rows of jagged teeth as her talons flexed with anticipation.
A whisper of movement caught her attention, and her gaze shifted. The horizon quivered as figures began to emerge from the forest edge. As expected they came in force cloaked in green robes that mirrored branches and leaves, their auras pulsating mana waiting to be unleashed. Their advance was silent but deliberate, their intent etched into every step. Her sharp draconic eye¡¯s caught the sight of some preparing spells and artillery magic circles.
Ingrid waited, every muscle coiled, her gnarled scales caught the light and she shined like a sun-kissed star. She could feel the magic emanating from the approaching druids, thick and palpable, saturating the air like foul odor. The anger in her at these insects crawling into her domain caused her to growl. No, this was her domain. Their magic would falter under her will, and their bodies would wither in her breath. A single beat of her wings stirred the mist, revealing more of her towering frame.
The moment hung suspended in time as the first rays of sunlight broke fully over the ridge. With a deafening roar that split the sky, Ingrid launched herself into the air, her wings shattering the silence like thunderclaps. The fortress below erupted into motion, soldiers scrambling, feigning panic to sell the illusion. Behind Ingrid wyvern knights took to the sky, Thyra to her right as expected.
As she soared above the battlefield, Ingrid opened her maw, and a torrent of withering breath spilled forth, a swirling miasma of black and gray. It spread across the field like an unholy tide, devouring vitality and unraveling magic artillery spells causing them to detonate prematurely. Druids cried out as their spells fizzled into nothingness, their forms shrinking under the weight of her attack. Only to be accosted by the wyvern knights behind her. Spells erupted into the sky and on the ground. The battle had begun, and Ingrid was its harbinger of doom.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The druids surged forward, their battle cries mingling with the desperate clash of spells as they pressed toward the fortress. Ingrid was begrudgingly impressed by the druid force. It consisted almost entirely of mages, not a single wizard amongst them. That meant that the resistance was going to be high and that this force of five hundred strong would be formidable.
The sky above the battlefield began to glow with a faint aurora. Magics of many disciplines and powers began to mix as the mages spells began to roar forth like a wave. The ground quaked beneath their charge, nature bending to their will as roots erupted from the soil, vines lashed at stone, and primal familiars prowled alongside them. They knew they only had one possibility of survival and that was to storm the fort.
¡°Milady the knights are in place!¡± Thyra yelled from her wyvern.
¡°Signal them to march.¡± Ingrid roared.
Thyra pulled out a horn and blew. That was when things went from bad to worse for the druids as horns blared in response. A wall of steel and death emerged from behind the druids'' advance. Knights, clad in gleaming armor and mounted on massive warhorses, wolves, drakes, and other beasts surged forward in a disciplined charge. Their lances bristled like a forest of steel. The druids, caught between the unyielding knights and the menacing fortress, faltered. Panic rippled through their ranks as their path of retreat disappeared beneath the cavalry''s onslaught.
Above, Ingrid watched the chaos unfold with cold satisfaction. She folded her massive wings and plummeted toward the battlefield like a dark comet. Her descent ended with a cataclysmic crash as her claws tore through a cluster of druids, scattering their ranks like leaves in a gale. Her withering breath followed, a noxious miasma that devoured vitality and sapped magic from all caught within its reach. Ingrid felt that vitality and mana flow into her like a tsunami as screams echoed across the field as druids fell, their bodies shriveled and lifeless.
The survivors barely had time to recover before Ingrid shifted. Purple energies surrounded her as the dragon form collapsed in a swirl of dark mist, coalescing into her wendigo figure. She stood among the carnage, tall and imposing, her antlers crowned with bone-white filigree, her eyes alight with a cold, predatory glow. In one hand, she gripped her sword, a long, rune-etched blade that pulsed with a faint, eerie light. The end of its blade already pierced the skull of a druid beneath her feet.
¡°It''s one of them!¡± A soldier yelled. ¡°Kill the Salstar bitch!¡±
A soldier stepped forward, raising a hand to summon magic. The spell fizzled into nothingness, the air around Ingrid rippling with the unmistakable power of her anti-magic aura. Another attempted to call upon the earth with geokinesis, but their connection was severed the moment Ingrid¡¯s piercing gaze fell upon them. It was already too late for them, she had enough mana siphoned away from them to blanket her surroundings in an anti-magic field. Now, only skill would determine the victor.
She dashed forward in a predator¡¯s grace, her sword poised in front of her. The blade carving through druids with deadly precision. Head¡¯s severed from bodies, hands holding staves and wands removed. Each swing was calculated, each step perfectly placed to avoid retaliation. It was impossible to avoid everything, no matter how skilled, but she chose which strikes she could take and allowed her armor to do its job. A spear thrust toward her was parried with ease, her return strike a swift, lethal arc that left another foe split in twain.
The druids weren¡¯t done and the presence of a Salstar in the middle of the druid formation spread amongst the ranks. They surrounded her to kill the wife of the Salstar house, desperate to overwhelm her with numbers. The most powerful of their members tried to summon weapons forged of primal magic, but it was futile. Their summoned constructs evaporated as Ingrid¡¯s presence unraveled their mana, and her sword cleaved through beast and man alike.
A figure landed beside Ingrid and grabbed a sword from the air with her bare hand. It was Thyra, she had come to distinguish herself as order. She reared back a punch and landed the blow square on the attacker''s chest. With her strength alone the impact hit with a force that left the man as little more than a mist of blood. Thyra dropped the sword and cracked her knuckles.
¡°I got this Milady.¡± Thyra said as she rushed into the fray.
Ingrid did not respond amid the chaos, her gaze locked onto a figure¡ªone of the commanders. The druid barked orders, trying to restore some semblance of order to their crumbling lines. Ingrid''s lips curled into a cruel smile. She used her mana and with speed, she closed the distance, her blade sweeping low to cut through the commander¡¯s guards. They fell with barely a grunt, their magical wards shattered by her aura.
The commander raised a hand in desperation, summoning a wall of ice to shield himself and to Ingrid''s surprise the ice formed. The commander¡¯s magic was weakened but not sealed completely. Ingrid was impressed but the sword cut through it with ease. The fight was over before it began. Her blade pierced the commander¡¯s chest, and as they fell to their knees, she leaned in close, putting her boot on his neck.
Her voice a chilling whisper. ¡°This was always how this was going to end.¡±
She twisted the blade free and crushed his head under her boot. Then turned to the next target.
SND Interlude [16.5] Power of Prodigies Part 2
The battlefield was quiet now, the screams and clashes of war replaced by an eerie stillness. Smoke curled lazily into the dawn sky, mingling with the lingering mist. A mana storm brought about by the expenditure of so much magic loomed overhead like an aurora crackling with wild chaotic mana. Ingrid stood amidst the remnants of the druids¡¯ forces, walking through a field of corpses. She was a warlord in her element; death was her business.
She walked up to Thyra who stood over, a small group of captured druids knelt in the dirt, bound and stripped of any magical tools or items of power. Some of them were being beaten for answers but mainly for intimidation. Ingrid already knew why they were here and how. She knew scared druids usually talked more and one of them might slip up and tell her something she didn¡¯t know.
Ingrid¡¯s piercing gaze swept over them as she questioned one of the prisoners, her voice calm yet carrying an edge that made the druid flinch.
¡°Your attack was bold but ill-planned,¡± she said. ¡°Who gave the order to target this supposed wendigo stronghold? Was it your commander or did you receive information from an informant that this fort was understaffed and low on supplies?¡±
The prisoner hesitated, defiance flickering in their eyes before fear took hold. Ingrid could see the moment the druid realized that she already knew. Before he could stammer a response, the air around them shifted, charged with a sudden oppressive heat. A shadow passed overhead, and a mighty roar split the sky.
Ingrid turned, her sharp features softening in surprise as the massive form of Thrand descended, his crimson scales shimmering in the early light. The great fire dragon landed with a resounding thud, the ground trembling under his weight. On his back sat Lord Ulfar, his presence as commanding as the dragon he rode. His regal figure stood, and his piercing eyes scanned the battlefield. Behind him, Ragnar clung to the saddle, a mirror image of his father but in full combat armor.
Everyone waited for the Lord and heir to dismount. Ulfar¡¯s boots crunched against the charred earth. Ragnar followed, his eyes wide as he took in the battlefield. Ingrid could not help but watch her son. It would be his first time seeing such carnage. The lord had prepared him well as he looked around and projected a sense of being unbothered by the mounds of bodies to be burned.
¡°Lord Husband, Heir Ragnar,¡± Ingrid said, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she dipped her head in respect. She stepped forward, gesturing toward the aftermath. ¡°The battle is won. No losses among our forces, and the druids¡¯ army has been annihilated. Only these few were kept alive for questioning.¡±
Ingrid continued, her tone becoming more measured as she gestured to a nearby pile of captured documents and artifacts. ¡°We¡¯ve uncovered evidence suggesting collaboration between the druids and the Nazem noble family. Nothing we haven¡¯t already confirmed.¡±
Ulfar¡¯s expression darkened at the mention of the Nazem family, his jaw tightening. Before Ingrid could elaborate further, he turned to Ragnar, placing a heavy hand on his son¡¯s shoulder.
¡°Good,¡± Ulfar said, his voice firm. ¡°Then this is the perfect opportunity for Ragnar to gain real combat experience. He will face the remaining druids in single combat¡ªone after another.¡±
Ingrid¡¯s breath caught, her composure faltering for the first time that day. Her sharp eyes darted between her husband and their son, who straightened at the words.
¡°Lord Husband,¡± she began, hesitating.
The words she wanted to say remained unspoken; she had no right to Ragnar anymore and her concern was not befitting the Sword. Her husband¡¯s authority as Patriarch was absolute, and she knew better than to question his judgment openly. Instead, she drew in a slow breath and nodded. It was only right that Ragnar be tested. After all, Ingrid participated in her first life and death battle far younger than her son was now.
¡°As you command,¡± Ingrid said.
Ulfar¡¯s expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to her. He did something he had not in years, he touched her face warmly and rubbed soot from her cheek. He looked at her with something besides duty. Their eyes met and she felt her feelings stir within her.
Ulfar¡¯s voice was low enough for only her to hear. ¡°He must learn, my love. If he is to inherit our legacy, he cannot be sheltered from battle.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Ingrid nodded as she gazed into his eyes. ¡°I understand.¡±
Ragnar¡¯s excitement was impossible to miss.¡°I won¡¯t let you down, Lord Father. Mother. I¡¯ll prove myself.¡±
Ingrid¡¯s gaze lingered on him, ¡°Then fight well, my son. But remember¡ªstrength is more than raw power. Use your mind as much as your magic.¡± She turned to Thyra. ¡°Select his opponent and clear the field. The Heir will perform his Rite of Combat here and now!¡±
There was a stir in the air as the knights rushed to fulfill the order. Bodies were moved and burned in quick order. The arena was being set as the living druids were dragged forward, their defiance replaced by grim resignation. Ingrid took a step back, standing beside Ulfar. Her heart clenched, but her expression remained stoic.
***
It took only moments for the battlefield to become a makeshift arena. Ragnar stood at the center, his staff in hand, scarlet electricity crackling faintly at its tip. His youthful face was set with determination. The first prisoner¡ªa druid woman with a mane of fiery red hair¡ªwas shoved forward. From what Ingrid could tell she was nothing special, an elemental mage of some description.
She stumbled before catching her balance, gripping the staff returned to her with white-knuckled fingers. Her green eyes burned with fury as they swept across the gathered wendigo. She raised her staff and shouted an incantation, aiming a roaring jet of flame directly at Ulfar. The magic fizzled out almost immediately, the fire sputtering to nothing before it even left her staff. She froze, bewildered, as the invisible weight of Ingrid¡¯s anti-magic aura pressed down on her. Ingrid¡¯s sharp voice cut through the silence.
¡°Your opponent is not my Lord Husband.¡± She gestured toward Ragnar. ¡°It is my son.¡±
She sneered, laughter dripping with venom. ¡°A child? You send a boy to fight me? How fitting for fucking savages. What? Are you too cowardly to face me yourselves? The Salstars are a blite. Cowards. Savages.¡±
Ragnar said nothing, his grip tightening on his staff as sparks danced around him, the electricity responding to his emotions. Ulfar raised a hand, signaling Ingrid to release her aura. The moment the suppression lifted, the air thrummed with energy.
Without hesitation, Ragnar raised his staff and unleashed a bolt of arcane lightning. The crackling streak of power shot across the field, striking the druid in the head before she could even finish another taunt. Her body convulsed, her staff splintered, and she crumpled to the ground in silence.
¡°One down.¡± Ragnar exhaled, lowering his staff.
He turned to Ulfar, standing tall despite his small stature. Ulfar nodded, his expression unreadable. He gestured for the next prisoner. This one was different. A towering druid man was hauled forward, his antlers tipped with sharp metal caps, his presence exuding raw, unyielding strength. His weapon was not a staff or wand but two vicious axes. He gripped them with ease, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a hunt.
The man¡¯s lips curled into a wicked grin as he sized up Ragnar. ¡°I know what a wendigo Rite of Combat is, so, I know no one will interfere, right?¡± He turned to look at Ulfar and raised his ax. ¡°I may die today, but not until I make you watch me kill this Forest Father damned child of yours.¡±
Ragnar fingers flexed around his staff, the crackling electricity returning, but now tempered by the realization that this opponent wouldn¡¯t fall as easily as the first. The moment the fight began, Ragnar unleashed a barrage of plasma bolts. Which shot out like red arrows of energy. The wendigo man was quick, his larger form belying his mana enhanced agility as he dodged and weaved between the strikes. He retaliated with a burst of toxic fog, the greenish haze spreading across the field and forcing Ragnar to retreat.
The boy raised a barrier of electrical energy to hold back the fumes, but the poison lingered, and Ragnar coughed. Ingrid knew that this was now a race against time. If Ragnar didn¡¯t kill the druid fast enough the poison would make him an easy target. He was already beginning to slow.
The druid warrior pressed his advantage, closing the distance with brutal efficiency. One of his axes swung low, slipping past Ragnar¡¯s defenses and catching him across the chest. The blow sent Ragnar sprawling, blood staining his armor.
Ingrid took a sharp step forward, her hand reaching for her sword, but Ulfar¡¯s grip on her shoulder stopped her.
¡°No,¡± Ulfar said firmly, his voice low. ¡°This is his fight.¡±
Ingrid¡¯s jaw tightened, but she obeyed, her every muscle coiled with restrained tension.
Ragnar struggled to his feet, his breathing labored, but the crackling power around him intensified. The druid man came at him again, his axes spinning in a deadly arc. Ragnar ducked one swing and used his staff to parry the other. Sparks flew as the weapons clashed. The man¡¯s aura prevented the electricity from traveling through his weapon and shocking him.
Again Ragnar showed his training and instead of taking the attacks head on he used his smaller frame and size to weave between strikes and wait for an opening. As soon as one appeared Ragnar thrust his staff forward, unleashing a surge of raw plasma. The attack struck the warrior square in the chest, sending him stumbling back, weapons flew from his hands as his armor was scorched and flesh was left smoking.
Ragnar twisted his staff and tendril of electricity caught one of the axes mid flight. With a decisive pull the axe flew back and buried itself in the druid''s skull. The man fell to his face and Ragnar stood over him, chest heaving, his staff still glowing faintly. His face was pale, and blood dripped from the wound on his chest, but his expression was one of victory.
Ulfar¡¯s voice rang out, breaking the tense silence. ¡°Bring the next one.¡±
SND Interlude [16.5] Power of Prodigies Final
The tension was palpable as the next opponent was dragged forward. This time, it was an electrokinetic druid, his tall, wiry frame crackling faintly with electricity even under the passive suppression of Ingrid''s aura. His eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence, a dangerous contrast to the brawn of the last opponent. He smirked when he saw Ragnar, clearly not underestimating the young wendigo. He did just watch the young man kill several soldiers before him. Still he had years of experience as an electrokinetic mage and he was against a child.
Ragnar stood firm, his chest still bandaged from the prior fight. He didn¡¯t show hesitation, though Ingrid could see his shoulders tense as he assessed the druid. When fighting someone of the same discipline often the person with the most experience came out on top. They simply had longer to come to know their discipline and to grow more aware of the nuances of their magic. On top of that Ragnar was already injured and would not be given any potions as part of his trial.
¡°Don¡¯t worry child, I will make this quick.¡± The druid¡¯s voice was taunting, his confidence evident. ¡°I will have some mercy unlike the savages of the Salstar house.¡±
Ragnar didn¡¯t respond. His grip on his staff tightened, his gaze locked on the druid. Ingrid released her anti-magic aura, and the battlefield buzzed as both combatants¡¯ power came to life. Ragnar¡¯s red energy clashed with the green lightning of the druid.
When it came to magic, especially the elemental magic disciplines the element created was not a true element but instead a magical construct. A fire magic caster could create real fire but in doing so they did not have the same control over it. At the same time if other pyrokinetics more powerful than them came along they could take control of it.
Instead a mage¡¯s mana directly became the element. Doing so gave the caster total control as if it were an extension of themselves. More importantly, others couldn¡¯t take control of it. The difference was the mana cost. It was significantly more mana to maintain constructs. Ingrid taught her son this lesson long ago and would have to trust he would not do anything to give the druid mage the advantage.
The druid didn¡¯t wait. He raised his hand, calling down a forked lightning strike that tore across the field. Ragnar barely managed to leap aside, rolling to his feet as the strike left the ground scorched and smoking.
Emerald green electricity danced along the druid¡¯s arms as he advanced, sending out arcs of power that forced Ragnar to keep moving. Ragnar countered with bolts of his own, but the druid easily deflected them, his mastery over electricity apparent.
¡°You¡¯re out of your depth, boy,¡± the druid said, his voice mocking.
Another surge of electricity crackled toward Ragnar, who deflected it with a hastily conjured plasma barrier. Ragnar¡¯s sharp eyes darted around the battlefield, taking in every detail. He was outmatched in raw skill, but his mind worked quickly. Reaching into a pouch on his side, he pulled out several metal rods he had prepared earlier. He said a spell and the rods began to vibrate as coiled wire wrapped each one.
He held out his hand and the rods scattered across the field. The druid dodge one of them easily as he moved to get closer to Ragnar who was maintaining his distance.
The druid paused, his brow furrowing. ¡°What are you doing? Playing at some kind of childish game?¡±
Ragnar didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he kept moving, positioning himself strategically and throwing more rods as the fight continued. The druid¡¯s irritation grew, his attacks becoming more aggressive, but Ragnar¡¯s movements remained deliberate, each dodge leading him closer to his goal.
Ingrid could barely believe how foolish the druid was being. Obviously Ragnar was preparing something but the druid was too blinded by anger. The druid finally realized something was amiss when the air between the scattered rods began to hum with energy. Ragnar had created a makeshift grid, the rods conducting electricity and forming a network of currents that hummed ominously.
¡°What is this?¡± the druid demanded.
Ragnar smirked for the first time in the fight. Without warning, he launched himself into the grid while ducking under a green bolt. The currents surged, propelling him forward with incredible speed. The druid barely had time to react as Ragnar shot past him, his staff glowing with a searing plasma spearhead at its tip.
Before the druid could fully turn, Ragnar was behind him. With a cry of effort, Ragnar drove the plasma-coated end of his staff into the druid¡¯s back, the heat piercing through his body and out the other side. The druid let out a strangled cry.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
The plasma was so intense that the body ignited, flames consuming the druid even as Ragnar yanked his staff free and stepped back. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the body crumpled, leaving nothing but smoldering ashes behind. Ragnar stood over the remains, chest heaving, his face pale but resolute.
Ingrid¡¯s breath caught as she watched her son. The battle had been grueling, yet Ragnar had fought with a cunning and precision that reminded her of herself at his age¡ªonly he was already far beyond her capabilities at that time. Her thoughts swirled as she stared at him, pride mingling with a mother¡¯s fear. She knew he had just proven himself worthy in ways few could deny, yet the sight of his bloodied form, standing amidst the remains of a brutal battle, made her heart ache.
Ulfar stepped forward, his voice cold. ¡°Ragnar. You are Salstar, stand straight.¡±
¡°Yes, Lord Father,¡± Ragnar turned, his stance steady despite his visible exhaustion.
Ingrid approached, her eyes scanning him for injuries. ¡°You¡¯re far more skilled than I was at your age.¡±
He looked up at her, a faint smile on his face. ¡°I learned from the best, Mother.¡±
Her heart swelled at his words, but the battlefield was no place for sentimentality. The tension was thick as Ulfar turned to the remaining prisoners, his commanding presence cowing even the most defiant among them.
¡°Bring out the next two,¡± he ordered, his voice cold and unyielding.
A ripple of unease passed through the knights and the remaining druids. Two? Ingrid¡¯s gaze flicked to Ragnar, who was already weary and battered. Her lips parted to protest, but she caught herself. She knew better than to question her husband directly in front of the troops. Instead, she offered a measured suggestion hoping he would not take offence.
¡°Lord Husband,¡± she began, her tone calm but edged with concern. ¡°Perhaps a short respite to allow him to recover? His body may falter if pushed too far.¡±
Ulfar''s eyes turned to her with a gaze that made her recoil. ¡°The battlefield offers no respite. If Ragnar is to be my heir, he must learn to endure. Prepare him.¡±
Ingrid inclined her head. ¡°As you will, Lord Husband.¡±
Ragnar, overhearing the exchange, hesitated. His eyes darted between his parents, uncertainty flickering in his gaze. He turned to her but then, with a deep breath, he straightened, puffing out his chest and looked to his father.
¡°I¡¯ll make you proud, Lord Father.¡± Ragnar said.
Ulfar nodded, his expression unreadable. ¡°Good.¡±
The next pair of druids were brought forward. One a stocky man wielding a mace, the other a lithe woman with daggers and shadow magic. They were unshackled and armed and Ingrid hesitated for a second before releasing her mana suppression on them.
***
Six grueling rounds, twelve dead druids later, Ragnar stood in the center of the battlefield. His body bore the evidence of each hard-fought battle: cuts and bruises marred his flesh, blood stained his armor, and his staff hung loosely in his trembling hand. His mana was spent, his movements sluggish, but his spirit remained unbroken. He stood straight despite his trembling legs. He refused to let his father see him fall to his knees. He refused to let the knights see a Salstar succumb to defeat no matter how small. Ingrid watched her son as any proud wendigo mother. He was truly a testament to the resilience of their lineage.
The knights, silent witnesses to his trial, raised their weapons in a salute. The gesture was one of profound respect, acknowledging not only Ragnar''s triumph but the indomitable will he had displayed. They all together chanted his name ¡®Heir Ragnar Salstar¡¯ they called loud enough to wake the spirits.
Ulfar stepped forward, his towering presence commanding the field and everyone went silent. He regarded his son with a rare glint of approval before turning to Ingrid.
¡°Take him. Tend to his wounds. He has earned his rest.¡± Ulfar said.
Ingrid immediately moved to her son, her hands steady as she steadied him.She would not carry him he had to stand on his own. Despite her pride in his achievements, her touch was gentle, her voice soft.
¡°You¡¯ve done well, my son.¡± Ingrid said.
Ragnar looked to Ulfar as he walked away. ¡°Did I make him proud, Mother?¡±
¡°You did,¡± she replied, her voice firm. ¡°And you¡¯ve made me proud as well.¡±
Ulfar¡¯s voice cut through the moment. ¡°He will join you in all future battles against the druids. His training will continue on the field.¡±
Ingrid glanced up, nodding her agreement. ¡°As you command, Lord Husband.¡±
With a snap of her fingers, the healers stepped forward, their magic enveloping Ragnar in a warm glow as they began their work. Ulfar didn¡¯t linger; his orders given, he continued to walk away without further word, his crimson dragon Thrand waiting in the distance.
As Ingrid watched him leave, a mixture of emotions swirled within her. She was proud of her son, his potential shining even brighter than she had anticipated. More than that she felt a renewed respect for her husband¡¯s methods. His unyielding harshness was born of necessity, a forge to shape Ragnar into a being worthy of their lineage. To Ingrid, power was the highest virtue, and Ulfar embodied it fully. His strength, his resolve, it was everything she admired and now, she saw the same potential in Ragnar.
SND [17] The Caravan
At some point Freja had fallen asleep while Bjorn kept his eyes out for any potential danger. They were not in a safe location, druid or no. He still let her rest her eyes but knew they would have to keep going soon. They needed to get out of the forest and away from here as soon as possible. If there was a village there was certainly a road somewhere near here.
¡°Failsafe, you there?¡± Bjorn thought.
¡°Yeah. I¡¯m just organizing a few things,¡± Failsafe responded promptly. ¡°Doing some updates and running some diagnostics on your body. Before you say anything,¡± he sounded like he was guilty of a crime, ¡°I know that I may have missed a few things regarding your skills.¡±
¡°Oh, you don¡¯t say, I barely noticed,¡± Bjorn said sarcastically. ¡°So, I breathe fire now?¡±
Failsafe responded like a kid being scolded by a parent. ¡°Toxic purple fire, yes.¡±
¡°Any explanation as to why that is and how you didn¡¯t know?¡± Bjorn asked incredulously.
¡°Okay-okay, let me explain. So, I may have been slacking off a bit on analyzing your skills ever since I got my own head. I assumed that both the left and right ones were the same so¡¡±
Bjorn pointed out. ¡°You slacked off? Aren¡¯t you a spell, how can you slack off?¡±
¡°When I am in control of one of the heads I can¡¯t monitor everything. It¡¯s like I have blinders on and I can only focus on the physical,¡± Failsafe explained. ¡°From what I¡¯ve discovered, the right head is poison puff and the left one is toxic fire breath. Also, you leveled up, you should take a look.¡±
¡°Fine, but we are going to be limiting the time you get to control either head,¡± Bjorn stated.
¡°Fair enough,¡± Failsafe responded disappointedly.
With that he opened up the UCP menu and assigned the additional twenty points he got from leveling up twice.
Unassigned Cultivation Points Distribution
You have leveled up 2 times before assigning your UCP.
You have 20 UCP
Please assign all UCP within 6 day(s) or UCP will be automatically assigned.
Assign [yes/no]
Bjorn already knew where he wanted to place his points. He wanted to be able to use his magic far more freely. Apparently his poison breath and toxic fire were very potent but if he could only use them a couple times a day if they get into more trouble they were going to be in a bad situation. He may not be able to increase the amount of magic he had but he could increase the rate it returned. He put seventeen points into Magic regeneration and the last three points into vitality, restoration and constitution to increase his survivability.
Status Menu
Name: Bjorn Salstar
Species: Unknown
+ Level: 4
+ Vitality: 16 / 35
+ Restoration: 26 / 50
+ Constitution: 9 / 15
Willpower: 8 / 15
Strength: 6 / 15
Dexterity: 12 / 20
Stamina: 7 / 15
Magic: 5 / 5
+ Magic Regeneration: 20 / 20 (+100 from bond)
Page 1 of 2
Skills Analysis
Reincarnation Failsafe
An incomplete reincarnation magic and your best friend that has your back no matter what!
Venomous Bite
Magic Cost: 0
You have a neurotoxic venom which can be injected through a bite with your fangs.
Poison Puff
Magic Cost: 1
With your right head you can mix your venom into the air using magic creating a small area of poisonous gas. This gas will reduce the health of those inside. The wider the area of effect, the less effective the poison.
+ Toxic Fire Breath
Magic Cost: 1
With your left head you can breathe a plume of superheated toxin, which will ignite enemies and infect them with your neurotoxin. Flames lose their toxicity with time, and using this ability will also drain stamina.
Poison Scratch
Magic Cost: 1
You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal overtime.
Delta Familiar Contract
Magic Cost: -100
You are a bonded delta class familiar. You gain +100 to magic regeneration. Your bond has grown, allowing you to convey your emotions though your bond. Your bond is more resilient to outside influences and cannot be forcibly severed by outside parties.
King of the Reptiles
Passive Skill
Dragons, lizards, amphibians all show hesitation and fear around you, going so far as to run away from you. More study needed.
Head Regeneration?
Magic Cost: 40-ish (Was kinda decapitated at the time so numbers may be off.)
Currently only usable if fallen beasts powers the regrowth. Major wounds including decapitation can be healed. (More study needed but not recommended we try again.)
Page 2 of 2
Bjorn looked up from his menus and found that Freja was asleep, but this was not the place for that. He sat up and nudged her awake. Her eyes fluttered open and she tiredly petted him. He looked away trying to convey as much as possible that they needed to keep moving. He felt something in the familiar bond, a note of realization. Bjorn found that feeling her emotions was odd but at the same time reassuring. He tried as much as possible to convey support through the bond. A hollow smile crossed her lips as her hands slid across his scales.
After a few minutes Bjorn rose to his feet, stretching his body as he did. He could immediately feel the difference in his body. He felt sturdier, and oddly more alive than he had before. It was odd but having increased his constitution, vitality and restoration left him feeling good in a way he found hard to describe. It wasn¡¯t overwhelmingly different, but everything felt crisper, each motion slightly more deliberate. It was as if he were more in the moment and present.
Freja grunted as she used the tree behind her to stand. She looked over the dark forest with grim resignation and chanted the words of power to resummon her wind hands. She picked up the staff she¡¯d gotten from the dead druid. Took off her bookbag and tossed it to the floating hands.
Bjorn took the time to look over the dead nature creature, or what was left of him. The body had been held together by his magic, so when he died things fell apart. The fact his head was smashed in only slightly added to the already grizzly scene. What Bjorn was looking for was on the man''s waist: a combat knife, the common companion to many soldiers, spell casters or not. This one was a large blade with a full knuckle guard and several runes for reasons Bjorn didn¡¯t quite understand.
When he rejoined Freja she didn¡¯t say anything when she took it from him. She had the free wind hand take the blade. Bjorn noticed for the first time that she had lost her alchemy case and with it her ability to make more potions. She looked to be in shock as she quietly held onto Bjorn¡¯s tail, allowing him to guide her through the dark woodland. Bjorn was on heightened alert the last thing he needed was for them to run into more trouble.
***
It was hard to tell how long they walked before Bjorn tasted something in the air. A different aroma than the water and the natural scents of the forest. It was pack animals and someone cooking. He led Freja in that direction, and after another few minutes they saw light in the distance and heard the sounds of a group of people laughing and talking.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
¡°...And you should have seen him!¡± A deep voice spoke loudly. ¡°Swore up and down he could push the cart out of the mud. I turned around for just a second, and next thing I know, there he is¡ªsinking waist-deep!¡±
The group erupted in laughter, but another voice, higher and nervous, cut through the mirth.
¡°W-wait, wait. You hear that?¡± The second voice said.
¡°Don¡¯t stop the story just because you¡¯re embarrassed,¡± the first man teased, his tone playful.
¡°No, I¡¯m serious. Do you hear that?¡± the second voice insisted.
This time, a woman joined in, her tone sharper. ¡°Yeah, something¡¯s out there.¡±
The lively sounds snapped Freja out of her daze. She crouched instinctively, her body tense, while Bjorn stepped protectively in front of her. Moving cautiously, the two crept closer, weaving through the undergrowth until they could see the source of the commotion. A small caravan had set up camp in a clearing beside a well-worn road. Four horse-drawn carts were arranged in a loose semicircle, with a lively group of people gathered around a crackling fire.
¡°Aye, we know you¡¯re there!¡± the woman called out, her voice carrying easily across the clearing. ¡°Might as well come out!¡±
¡°You can see them?¡± the first man asked, squinting into the shadows.
¡°I don¡¯t see anything,¡± grumbled another voice, quieter and hesitant.
¡°Ma, I¡¯m scared,¡± a younger voice piped up.
¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, dear,¡± a second woman replied soothingly. ¡°It¡¯s probably just a rabbit or something.¡±
¡°They¡¯re about as stealthy as a charging bull,¡± the sharp-voiced woman retorted. ¡°Look, you behind the bushes¡ªcome out, or I¡¯ll come after you!¡±
Bjorn froze, torn between caution and action. The group didn¡¯t appear hostile¡ªnone of them had even risen from their spots around the fire.
***
Freja exhaled slowly, her resolve firming. She stood, brushing aside the leaves, and Bjorn followed. She walked closer to the group but stopped at a distance she felt she could possibly run back into the forest should she need to. She would have turned and ran already as it was a rather eclectic mix of races, but the sight of a fr?eikona or wendigo theological scholar, what humans would call a priestess was sitting amongst them. She was the sharper voiced woman that was the one calling out to her. It meant at the very least the group was safe and not going to attack her.
Of the other species sitting around the fire there were two she recognized. The first was the small goblin woman in the group. Her green skin, tail and a beauty that would make a supermodel jealous was a dead give away for the lesser elf. There were also three male goblins, one older and two younger, who unlike the female were some of the ugliest creatures Freja had ever seen. However, that¡¯s what goblin females like so there was no judgment from Freja.
The second was a tall gnoll male who was roasting meat at the fire, the smell of which made Freja¡¯s mouth water. His spotted fur was largely covered by fine robes. He was slouched while he watched her, his ears up and at attention. Despite sitting down Freja could tell he was the tallest out of the group. His pseudo-canine face reminded Freja of the wolves and it made her uncomfortable.
The last person was a race Freja had never seen before. He looked like a humanoid tiger and was built like a strongman. What threw her off on pinpointing his race were the four horns growing from his head. He was the only one standing, but he hadn¡¯t made any moves towards her. Instead he casually smoked with a long metal pipe and wore the finest multicolored robes she had seen on a foreigner. In fact all of them aside from the Fr?eikona were dressed like merchants, which was the reason Freja decided to reveal herself.
¡°Sabec thinks that is a child,¡± the gnoll said.
¡°Oh, I think you are right, Sabec,¡± the horned tiger man said, he then smelled the air. ¡°I smell blood. Hey, are you alright?¡±
The fr?eikona was the first to approach her although she grew more hesitant when she saw Bjorn. Freja knelt down and pet Bjorn to show that he was not hostile. It also made the bond between them more visible to magical senses as others would be able to feel the connection to them. Since Bjorn was now a Delta Familiar it probably wasn¡¯t necessary.
¡°I am Maiden Embla of the Lesser Isi House,¡± the fr?eikona said softly as she took another step forward. ¡°Are you okay?¡±
Embla¡¯s tone wasn¡¯t hostile, but it carried a guarded edge, as though she were weighing each word carefully. Now that Freja was closer, the flickering campfire light revealed more of the fr?eikona¡¯s appearance. She was snowfallen, like Freja¡¯s mother, with pale white skin and a dusting of freckles that seemed to glow softly in the firelight. Her green robes, traditional garb of the fr?eikona, were exquisite, adorned with intricate silver filigree depicting forest trees and nature in full bloom. The craftsmanship seemed alive, as though the scenes on her robes swayed faintly in the flickering light.
Freja froze for a second as she considered how to respond. She wasn¡¯t okay of course, her body ached, she was on the verge of tears, and technically she had no family. Now most of all she was afraid that if Embla knew she was a Shai she may deny anyone aid her. For the wendigo and especially those that dedicated themselves to the Forest Father like the fr?eikona, believed that trials, no matter how grueling, were sacred gifts meant to hone one''s power. To reveal herself as a Shai, especially a noble family¡¯s Shai, she may be considered weak and unworthy. Embla might see Freja¡¯s suffering not as a plight but as her trial, a burden she was meant to face and conquer alone.
¡°My name is¡ My name is Sif.¡± Freja lied, her voice trembling. ¡°I was lost and injured in the woods with my familiar. I don¡¯t mean to intrude. I heard someone talking and I¡¡±
She couldn¡¯t hold herself together anymore despite her attempts to remain dignified and calm in front of the adults'' scrutiny. Tears flowed freely down her face as she held onto Bjorn and wailed. The Mystic Wind Hand spells dispersed as she lost focus and the combat knife and her bookbag fell to the ground. Everyone visibly relaxed when they saw her breaking down. A tension in the air was cut, and suspicion of the mysterious blood-covered wendigo girl subsided a bit. Everyone got up, but only the goblin woman and Embla walked towards Freja. The others stayed back after the small woman waved them down.
¡°Oh-oh, geez,¡± the goblin woman said. ¡°My name is Helina, are you hurt anywhere? Let''s get you cleaned up and put some food in you.¡±
Embla knelt down beside Freja and helped her to her feet. ¡°That¡¯s your familiar and not a pet? They''re not going to bite, right?¡±
¡°He is a familiar. His name is Bjorn,¡± Freja said between sniffles. ¡°He is sweet and wouldn''t hurt anyone.¡±
Helina asked as she led Freja by the hand over to the group. ¡°Sabec, do you have any more meat besides what you''re cooking there?¡±
The large gnoll produced several steaks from a bag way too small for the amount he pulled out.
¡°Sabec has plenty of meat. How does the girl want it cooked?¡± The gnoll asked.
Everyone was silent as Freja realized he was waiting for a response. ¡°Seasoned raw.¡±
¡°Ah. Yes, Sabec also likes it that way.¡± He chuckled. ¡°But let me show you a little trick. This is good meat, when you come back you will see.¡±
¡°Helina, can we use your tub?¡± Embla asked gesturing to Freja.
¡°Owen, get the tub,¡± Helina said to the oldest-looking of the male goblins.
¡°Of course dear,¡± the goblin responded. ¡°Wyatt, Caleb, let''s get the bath ready. Poor girl looks like she¡¯s been through a lot.¡±
¡°But pa, that thing is heavy. Can¡¯t she just go down to the river?¡± the younger goblin wearing a brown fur hat asked.
¡°Boy, if you don¡¯t stop complaining we¡¯re going to throw you in the river,¡± Owen responded.
The three male goblins all vanished into the back of a large wooden wagon; the sound of things being shifted around soon followed.
Freja said. ¡°They don¡¯t need to do that¡¡±
¡°Foolishness, I won¡¯t have you bathing in the river. Don¡¯t mind my sons, they get that laziness from their grandfather, rest his bones,¡± Helina stated as they settled in a small clearing separate from the group. ¡°You don¡¯t have to talk about anything you don¡¯t want to but we do have a few questions. Sif, right, how old are you?¡±
¡°Yes, and sixteen,¡± Freja responded.
Embla looked shocked, ¡°So young, are you from a village around here?¡±
¡°No,¡± Freja stated.
¡°Family we can drop you off with? Or anyone looking for you?¡± Helina asked, and Freja shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve been disowned. What is it called; charingur, shag-serigant?¡±
¡°Shiagaunt,¡± Embla said with a sour tone.
Freja flinched visibly at the word, each syllable striking her like a physical blow. She braced herself, expecting rejection. She was a Shai, after all. Avoiding their gazes, she stared at the ground, her shoulders hunched as though waiting for the inevitable. Helina simply sighed, placing a hand on her hip. She exchanged a meaningful look with Embla before the silence was broken by the return of Owen and his sons, who rolled a wooden tub into place. About four feet in diameter, the tub looked sturdy and well-used. The goblins then retrieved a curtain, hanging it with rope and stakes driven into the ground.
¡°You¡¯ve been through enough, girl,¡± Helina said, her voice softening. ¡°Let¡¯s get you cleaned up and feeling like a goblin on her All-Flowers Day.¡±
Freja didn¡¯t know what the goblin All-Flowers Day was, but when she looked up to the two women she was happy to see they weren¡¯t abandoning her. Tears nearly flowed again as she waited for the goblin males to finish putting up the curtain and retreat. Once they were done they quickly left the women to return to the campfire. The women were under the silvery light of the full moon above but only for a moment.
Helina raised her hands and murmured a short spell. Tiny droplets of water in the air shimmered to life, catching the moonlight as they slowly coalesced into glowing orbs. The droplets grew brighter, merging until several large, luminescent spheres hovered over the tub, casting a gentle radiance over the space.
With a second incantation, Helina gestured toward the tub. Steam began to rise as the wooden basin filled with warm, inviting water. Embla pulled herbs from a bag on her side. The faint scent fragrance of the herbs became a wonderful smell akin to perfume, which wafted through the air as the tub filled. Freja stared in awe, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. She glanced at Helina, who gave her a sly wink.
¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised,¡± Helina teased. ¡°We goblins have a few tricks up our sleeves, too.¡±
[18] The Gate
It took multiple tubs of water and several rounds of vigorous scrubbing to remove all the dried blood and grime caked onto Freja¡¯s skin and her stained uniform. Helina and Embla worked together to get Freja back to a clean and far less smelly state. She had spent the better part of a week in a musky troll cave. She had not realized how terrible she must have smelled. As the grime came away she felt far less embarrassed.
Bjorn was washed after her and it was a far simpler task. Everything seemed to slide effortlessly off his gleaming scales. He looked as pristine as the day he was born and he really liked the warm water to the point he didn¡¯t want to leave. Anytime she tried to pull him out he would hold onto the sides until she gave up. Meanwhile, Helina meticulously cleaned the staff, scrubbing away the crusted blood.
She caught both of the ladies looking at her now scarred body, especially her left arm and right leg. She also had scars across her midsection and ribs. Since the healing potion she drank first was not strong enough to completely heal her, she would retain these scars unless she visited a healer. By the time Freja slipped into her second-to-last clean uniform, Embla was already tying back her freshly brushed hair into a short ponytail.
During the brief respite Freja had the time to examine the two women as well. Embla was definitely a scholar and not a warrior, she like Freja, didn¡¯t seem to have the build for it. Though it didn¡¯t mean she was weak by any means, snowfallen were lithe even when physically strong. Freja also caught her whispering a spell that caused thin tendrils of shadows to collect Freja¡¯s freshly clean uniform to float in the air as if on a clothesline.
The action caught both her and Bjorn¡¯s attention. The Darkness Magic Discipline was far from rare for the wendigo. In fact it was the most common that wendigo had an affinity towards. For Freja it was the ease at which Embla cast her magic. Her aura was so constricted and dense that it made Freja realize that Embla really was a Fr?eikona and despite how nice she was being, she was still dangerous.
Freja would be extra careful not to get on her bad side. Then Helina returned Freja''s staff and Embla¡¯s eyes widened. She obviously recognized the druid made war staff. Her calm demeanor changed as she walked over and snatched the staff from Freja¡¯s grip. She looked over the weapon and even surged mana into it to verify its make. Her calm demeanor faded, brows furrowed and gaze became piercing.
¡°Where did you get this blasphemer¡¯s staff?¡± Embla asked, holding the item and looking it up and down. ¡°Why do you have this?¡±
Freja shrunk down and averted eye contact. Helina stepped between Embla and Freja meanwhile Bjorn leapt from the tub and hissed menacingly.
¡°Th-there was a druid in the woods.¡± Freja said, her voice soft. ¡°He was turning into a treant.¡±
¡°There is a treant out there and you didn¡¯t mention it?¡± Embla accused. ¡°You took its staff and ran when the Forest Father gave you a trial?¡±
¡°I did not abandon any trials,¡± Freja replied solemnly, her voice steadier now. ¡°There was a druid. I did my duty as a wendigo and killed him, Maiden Embla.¡±
Embla¡¯s accusatory expression faltered, replaced by disbelief as her brow arched high. She stared at Freja for a long moment before speaking.
¡°I will have to verify that.¡± Embla handed Freja back the staff. ¡°Excuse me.¡± She walked off urgently.
After Embla left, Helina finally led Freja back to the rest of the caravan. Freja was glad the goblin woman didn¡¯t ask anymore questions about the incident with the druid. As they approached the fire, Owen immediately noticed their return and promptly smacked one of his sons on the back of the head, jerking a thumb toward the bath. The two boys leapt up and began packing away the washing supplies.
¡°Ah, so there is a girl under all that mud,¡± purred a deep, resonant voice. The tiger man stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. ¡°I didn¡¯t introduce myself earlier. My name is Joha Bhatia. I took the liberty of retrieving the items you dropped¡ªthey¡¯re over there.¡± He gestured toward a new chair by the fire, where a cup of water, and her druidic combat knife were neatly arranged. ¡°Join us. Please, eat.¡±
¡°Sabec has finished preparing your meal,¡± announced the gnoll, stepping forward with a broad grin. He extended a skewer of meat toward Freja. ¡°Seasoned meat for a new friend. Eat, eat, yes?¡±
Freja hesitated for a moment before bowing her head slightly in gratitude and accepting the offering. The aroma was intoxicating¡ªsmoky, savory, and spiced with an exotic blend of seasonings she couldn¡¯t identify. She settled near her belongings as Sabec presented Bjorn with a wooden plate of unseasoned meat, which the familiar eagerly began to devour.
A twinge of disappointment flickered through Freja. She preferred her meat raw, finding the natural flavors more satisfying. Still, when she took her first bite, her eyes widened in surprise. The meat was seared only on the outside, its smoky crust complementing the tender, raw interior. The combination of textures and spices was nothing short of heavenly. She glanced up at Sabec, who gave her a thumbs-up. She returned the gesture with a small smile.
¡°So, is he your pet?¡± Joha asked, puffing leisurely on his pipe.
¡°He¡¯s a familiar,¡± Helina interjected before Freja could respond, her mouth still full. ¡°They¡¯re different from pets.¡±
¡°Oh? How so?¡± Joha asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity. ¡°We don¡¯t have familiars in my country.¡±
¡°It¡¯s a wendigo and druid connection-to-nature thing,¡± Helina explained with a casual wave. ¡°Their magic casters bond with animals, making them stronger.¡±
Freja considered correcting her but decided against it. Helina wasn¡¯t entirely wrong, though she¡¯d simplified the truth. The ability to summon and contract a familiar wasn¡¯t exclusive to wendigo or druids; any skilled magic caster could perform the ritual with the proper knowledge. However, wendigo and druids had a much higher success rate, often leading others to mistakenly believe it was an innate ability tied to their nature. In truth, the connection stemmed from the Forest Father, not nature itself¡ªa subtle but significant distinction. Freja doubted she had more of a connection to nature than anyone else in the caravan, given her preference for life indoors. Recent events had certainly upended that routine.
After taking a sip of water, Freja looked to Joha. ¡°Where are you from? I¡¯ve never seen anyone of your species before.¡±
¡°I hail from Hashvenel, a land far across the sea,¡± Joha said. ¡°It is the homeland of the rakshasa¡ªdemon shapeshifters, as some call us.¡±
The smoke he breathed out seemed to grow thicker until his entire form was obscured. The smoke opened for a second and he was a young human boy with black hair and eyes. The smoke closed and opened and he was a beautiful female wendigo with bleach-white antlers. The smoke closed again and he appeared as a red furred monkey man with four arms. Then the smoke dissipated and he was again in his normal tiger form with four horns.
The weird part of it all was Freja didn¡¯t feel any magic from Joha as he transformed. Leaving her to wonder if it was magic or something else. The tiger man laughed at her bemusement as he sat down next to the fire. Sabec handed him a meat skewer, and in return Joha filled his cup from a glass of ale that appeared in his hands out of the air.
¡°So where are you headed, young one?¡± Joha asked.
¡°I-I don¡¯t know,¡± Freja responded with a soft voice. ¡°Just headed west for now.¡±
¡°Well, each of us are also going west,¡± Joha stated with his arms wide indicating the whole group. ¡°You are welcome to tag along.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t want to be a burden,¡± Freja responded with both hands up as if to stop him.
¡°You wouldn¡¯t be any more of a burden than my lazy sons,¡± Helina said with a smile. ¡°We aren¡¯t just going to leave a girl out in the wilderness, and we can put you to work if you don¡¯t just want a ride. The next city is the fort town of Lavi; about a four day journey. We will be making some stops in villages along the way to sell some of our wares.¡±
¡°If any of those villages suit your fancy you¡¯re free to leave the caravan,¡± Joha added with another puff of his pipe. ¡°How does that sound?¡±
Freja looked over the group around the fire. They were doing a lot to help her already, and she felt like she should return the favor. Work off the food and bath and transportation. She looked at Bjorn as his two heads tore into his meal. A small smile graced her lip and she looked back up at the group and took a deep breath.
¡°I will be in your care,¡± she said with a bow. ¡°I have never worked in a caravan, so please be patient with me.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
¡°I am sure you will do fine Sif,¡± Owen the male goblin said.
***
As things calmed down for the night it was again the goblins that helped Freja and Bjorn. Owen, the husband of Helina, along with their sons, helped set up a small tent for them. The pair was grateful and soon Freja had a safe place where she could finally rest her head. Bjorn looked over her for a while keeping an eye on the camp just in case someone tried something uncouth but his worries seemed unnecessary as everyone retreated to their own sleeping arrangement.
Freja was already fast asleep when he joined her in the tent. Tensions slowly washed away as for the first time in weeks they could sleep in relative safety. As he curled up beside her, the warmth of her body against his own helped him relax. His muscles, perpetually tense, finally began to loosen.
¡°Okay, Failsafe,¡± Bjorn thought as he settled in. ¡°Any idea what I¡¯m about to see?¡±
¡°Not a clue,¡± Failsafe replied, his tone casual yet cryptic. ¡°But you¡¯ll experience it like it¡¯s happening for the first time. Every emotion, every sensation¡ªit¡¯ll all come flooding back. My guess? It¡¯ll be something significant, a memory that stands out in your past.¡±
¡°Well then I guess I will see you on the other side.¡± Bjorn said with a yawn.
Bjorn closed his eyes, letting the weight of the day fade away. Slowly, he felt the boundaries of the present dissolve, the edges of reality blurring like a dream just out of reach.
He surrendered himself to the experience, letting the pull of the nascent soul guide him. It wasn¡¯t abrupt or disorienting. Instead, it felt natural, as though a part of him had been waiting for this moment. There were no grand theatrics, no flashes of light or resounding echoes¡ªjust a quiet unraveling as who he was in the present moment slipped away.
The dream beckoned, reaching through the veils of time, and Bjorn followed.
***
The breeze was gentle, the floral smell of flowers and the warmth of the suns overhead kissed the boy''s skin. The rustling of the grass was calming and the sound of the creek trickling with water only added to the ambiance. The boy was no older than twelve with curly, sandy brown hair. He opened his eyes, which looked like diamonds sparkling in the light. He saw aether wisp in the air, singing its unheard song which held everything together like great strings from the sky.
¡°Hey guys, he¡¯s over here,¡± a familiar voice called, and the pattering of feet soon drew closer.
The boy smiled and the aether vanished, his eyes returning to their normal dark brown. He sat up and saw his friends rushing down the riverbank to join him. Martin, the oldest by two years and often the leader of their group. Pavel, the son of the baker and most well dressed, his linen garb being the only in the group with colorful beads. Jiri, his best friend who would stand out of a crowd because of his red hair, the only one in the village beside his dad with the odd color.
¡°I told you I knew where he was,¡± Jiri said as he ran.
Jiri tripped and started tumbling, only to fall into the resting boy. The two would have fallen into the creek if not for the quick actions of Martin, who held out his hand causing the wind to catch the two boys. They hovered right above the water and slowly floated back to the shore where they were abruptly dropped.
¡°Wow, you¡¯ve gotten really good,¡± Pavel said.
Martin puffed out his chest a little. ¡°Yeah, that was really good wasn¡¯t it? My dad is the town magecrafter so it only makes sense I would be able to do it, too.¡± He approached the two boys on the ground. ¡°Are you two okay?¡±
The boy with sandy brown hair sat up, untangling himself from Jiri with sparkles in his eye. ¡°Can you do that again, Martin?¡±
¡°Yeah. I was floating for a minute,¡± Jiri agreed.
¡°I can¡¯t, we¡¯ll need magecraft to do you know what today,¡± Martin stated.
¡°Oh yeah,¡± the boy with the sandy brown hair responded.
Pavel looked unsure. ¡°Are you guys really sure about this? The grown ups always said-¡±
Martin cut him off. ¡°You don¡¯t have to come if you don¡¯t want to. You can go back to the bakery and if anyone is looking for us just tell them we¡¯re down at the creek.¡±
Pavel looked towards the boy with the sandy brown hair, no doubt looking for backup in saying it was a bad idea. However the boy with the sandy brown hair wanted to go see the gate for himself. It may have been outside the village, but not very far. It wasn¡¯t like they would get lost, since he could just follow the aether back home. He thought Martin was right; Pavel could just stay here if he didn¡¯t want to go. Pavel then looked to Jiri, but no luck there either.
¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go, but how are we going to get out of the village anyway?¡± Pavel asked.
Martin smiled and walked up to the boy with sandy brown hair, throwing a hand over his shoulder.
¡°Okay, show them,¡± Martin said.
¡°You guys can¡¯t tell anyone, okay? I am serious, my mom said not to tell anyone,¡± the boy responded, a little embarrassed.
His eyes changed color, the pupils and iris becoming clear jewels that looked more like a sparkling diamonds than eyes. Jiri and Pavel were both in awe; his eyes were the same as the divine people from the sky. The boy quickly changed his eyes back to normal and blinked a few times.
¡°I can see the aether and I know where all of the alarms are,¡± the boy with sandy brown hair said quietly.
¡°Woah!¡± Jiri exclaimed. ¡°How long have you been able to do that?¡±
¡°That¡¯s awesome,¡± Pavel stated.
Martin huddled everyone together so they wouldn¡¯t be speaking too loud.
¡°We already scouted out a spot we can all get through with my wind magecraft,¡± Martin continued, looking at each of his friends. ¡°From there it¡¯ll only take a few minutes to get to the gate. We see the gate, and we come right back. No one will know. It is not like anything will go wrong. So, you guys ready?¡±
The village was small, with only twenty or so families. Wheat grew in abundance year round, and cows, chicken and other farm animals grazed happily on the wide pastures. The stream brought fresh water from far beyond the gate, out in the dangerous world the adults always warned about. In here was safety while out there was where the monsters hid.
Children weren¡¯t allowed outside of the village, and especially not near the gate. However, that never stopped the young boys¡¯ curiosity. They all wanted to see what the gate was, and waiting until they turned sixteen seemed like an eternity. It wasn''t like there were any monsters inside the gate.
A stone wall encircled the village, which according to the elders was built long before the divine people blessed them with the gate. The massive structure was an edifice to a time of strife and fear, when people had to fight to survive. Even given its age the wall stood strong. It was thirty feet high with only one way in or out.
The boys of course could not take the proper entrance as the adults wouldn¡¯t let them. Luckily, thanks to Martin¡¯s wind magic they had another way out. All they needed to do was look out for any of the magical alarms placed near the wall. Which was done easily enough as they had their own secret weapon for detecting magical traps.
The boy with sandy brown hair could see the aether swirl around invisible nodes on the ground and along the wall. To his sight each was a kaleidoscope of power and potential that sung to him in unheard whispers. He pointed out the locations where the nodes were active; not many of them were since there was no need for them in this peaceful place.
¡°Okay, everyone hold onto me,¡± Martin said as he held out his arms. ¡°I¡¯m going to take us over.¡±
¡°That is really high guys, are you all sure about this?¡± Pavel asked almost pleadingly.
Martin facepalmed. ¡°Divines, Pavel, just stay here if you¡¯re chicken. Keep a look out for us.¡±
¡°Fine-fine, I¡¯ll go-I¡¯ll go, but I still think this is stupid,¡± Pavel stated.
The group huddled up close to the wall as Martin channeled his magic. It was subtle at first, the wind becoming a breeze then a gale. All at once they started to lift off the ground, hanging precariously in the air by the force of the wind alone. Then they shot upward over the thirty-foot wall. On the other side all they saw was a dark forest to greet them.
The trip back down was far less controlled than the launch; immediately they hit a branch and the group split as they fell. Martin was the only one that made it to the ground, his wind magic failing in the last second causing him to fall on his butt. Everyone else got stuck in the tree.
It took everyone a few minutes to climb down, but aside from a few scratches everyone was okay. From there it wouldn¡¯t take too long to reach the gate. The overgrown forest was dark but there wasn¡¯t any reason to be afraid. There were no predators, venomous animals or monsters in the gate so the boys marched on. The most dangerous part was already over; now all they had to do was see the gate and get back before someone noticed they were gone.
Martin led the charge through the brush, using a stick he found to beat back some of the foliage. There were no paths or roads to get them to the gate but it didn¡¯t matter. They could feel it in the air. Aether saturated the world in color; bright streams of magic crackled. The gate was impossible to miss at this point, and soon they saw it. The edge of the gate. It looked like a nearly clear dome of rainbows shimmering with the celestial symbols of the divine people from the sky. Unknown aetheric formulae from the higher planes winked in and out.
¡°We made it guys!¡± Martin yelled in celebration. ¡°See, it wasn¡¯t that bad, was it Pavel?¡±
Pavel didn¡¯t respond; he was wonderstruck with his mouth wide open. Jiri found a rock and threw it at the gate, only for it to bounce right back and hit him in the chest. The point of impact on the gate caused waves like water to spread out in every direction.
¡°Ouch!¡± Jiri exclaimed.
¡°Oh let me try,¡± Martin said as he dropped his stick and found a rock.
Soon everyone was finding rocks and throwing them at the barrier. Even making a game of it, seeing who could do trick shots by bouncing rocks off the gate to hit trees and sticks they set up.
¡°Think I can touch it?¡± Jiri asked as he walked up to the barrier with a stick.
Before anyone could stop him he was already poking at the barrier. He dropped the stick when there was no reaction and reached out with his hand. This time the boy with sandy brown hair stopped him. However, now that he was so close to the gate he couldn¡¯t help but use his aetheric eyes to look more closely at it. He hadn¡¯t attempted since the aether was already so prominent here everyone could see it.
When he did he felt a compulsion to get closer, and soon he was the one touching the gate. Something felt familiar, like he had come into contact with this exact aether before. No, more like he had come into contact with the source of this aether. The divine person that made it; the creator of the barrier. With his jewel eyes he could feel the aether bend to him; it recognized him just as much as he recognized it. He probed the gate with aether of his own and felt something inside it shift, then wink out of existence. The gate vanished all at once. On the other side they didn''t see forest, they saw monsters.
[19] Jealousy
Freja woke up to the sound of Wyatt and Caleb, the goblin brothers, complaining about having to clean up the campsite so early in the morning. She was in a small one-person tent and even had a sleeping roll lent to her by Sabec. Bjorn was curled up with her, though he was already awake. She tried to force him inside the tent when they went to bed, but he wanted to stay up and guard her all night. She didn¡¯t know if he actually got any rest, but having him with her helped.
Now that she could feel his emotions through the familiar bond she knew he was apprehensive but not hostile to the people in the caravan. She felt about the same, but mostly felt thankful they¡¯d been treating her so well. With her new perspective into his emotions he felt more like a father figure always looking to protect her. Given the fact that he had been safeguarding her since he was born it was no wonder he felt that way. She hoped being in the caravan would allow both of them to have some normalcy for a change. She knew damn well she was ready for something normal.
Freja reached for her glasses, pleased with the runes carved onto them that had protected them all this time. She crawled out of the tent and stretched, Bjorn did the same thing. The goblin brothers approached, but not for her. Which she didn¡¯t mind as goblin males were not handsome. They were known for their appearance being an acquired taste to most other races. Goblin females loved every bit of their partner''s ugliness, and in fact were not known to date outside of their race.
The brothers were more easily distinguished by their hats. Wyatt always seemed to wear a brown fur hat, while Caleb wore a blue leather one. They pulled jerky from their pockets and ran over to Bjorn. They only seemed to notice Freja after he walked around her and they nearly ran into her.
¡°Oh, good morning, Sif,¡± Wyatt said. ¡°Can we give these to Bjorn?¡±
¡°Good morning, let me see it,¡± she said as she held out her hand. ¡°What is it?¡±
Wyatt handed her one of the strips. ¡°Chevon jerky.¡±
Freja smelled the jerky and bit off a small corner, her teeth easily slicing through the jerky like scissors. She then handed it back to the waiting goblin.
¡°It should be fine, if he wants to eat that is,¡± Freja said.
Freja stepped aside and the two boys reached out their hands for Bjorn. Each head took one of the strips. The goblins lit up with excitement, their long tails wagging in the air.
¡°He¡¯s so cool, what is he?¡± Caleb asked.
¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know,¡± Freja shrugged. ¡°I couldn¡¯t find anything on him in our bestiary. He¡¯s only about a week old, though, so he¡¯s probably going to get very big.¡±
The boys continued to ask questions about Bjorn. How big was he going to get, was he venomous, could he breathe fire or something, why did he have two heads, among other questions. Freja told them he was venomous and that, yes, she¡¯d found out yesterday he does in fact breathe fire. She kept the fact he¡¯d grown a second head after being decapitated to herself.
¡°Since you don¡¯t know what he is, you should talk to Joha. He knows a lot about monsters,¡± Caleb said with a snap. ¡°I think he used to hunt them a long time ago.¡±
The boys wanted to ask more questions but their dad, Owen, found them and told them to get back to work. Freja looked around; it seemed like everyone was already awake and packing up their campsite. Freja knew she couldn¡¯t idle; she had her own tasks to tend to. Resolving to catch Joha later, she focused on dismantling her tent. She carefully folded the cloth and stowed it away, her hands methodically working as her mind wandered.
The camp felt more crowded than it had the previous night. A group of snowfallen wendigo had joined the company, five in total. Freja recognized Maiden Embla among them¡ªshe must have returned during the night¡ªbut the others were unfamiliar. Embla, thankfully, was the only member of the clergy present.
The newcomers wore the coat of arms of a clan Freja had never heard of before. The emblem depicted a sword flanked by three corvids, all set against a stark winter motif, with the name ¡®Isi¡¯ embroidered beneath it. There was no noble seal, suggesting it was not a prominent family.
The new wendigo were all men, each clad in scaled armor of blue and white, their swords hanging at their sides. They moved like warriors, disciplined and alert, exuding a quiet confidence that made Freja uneasy. The apparent leader of the group stood out¡ªa young man, perhaps only a few years older than her. His commanding presence suggested he had experience in leading effectively, though Freja didn¡¯t care to investigate further.
She resolved to keep her distance and as unobtrusive as possible. After the past week she had the last thing she wanted was to be drawn into more conflict or drama. These wendigo looked capable, but Freja had neither the energy nor the inclination to find out how much. She focused instead on finishing her tasks, determined to stay invisible amid the bustling camp.
Freja pet one of Bjorn¡¯s heads. ¡°We are staying away from them as much as possible, Baby. Embla treated me nicely after finding out I was a Shai, but I don¡¯t know how others will react.¡±
After packing up everything she finally got a good look at all of the wagons. They were all different. Sabec had the least impressive-looking but largest standard merchant wagon. Cloth top on wooden frame, but with some notable reinforcement runes carved into the wood. It would make the wagon much harder to damage, and allow it to carry more cargo as long as he had the horse power. Which he did; there were two healthy chestnut colored horses.
Joha¡¯s wagon was by far the most impressive but also the smallest. His was colorful with exaggerated lines and curves, following the motif of a different culture than what Freja was used to. It was all wood and metal with a double door on one side like what she would expect on a carriage, not a cargo carrier.
The middle wagon was more like a cart with a single horse and a cloth top. It also had the crest of the Isi Clan. Given the size it was likely only used to transport supplies and not people. Freja did wonder where the Isi Clan members had been the previous night and why she hadn¡¯t seen them.
The goblin family had a large wagon that looked like a big wooden box on wheels. It was all natural colors; fully business and no pleasure. Freja knew they were all merchants, but realized she didn¡¯t know what any of them sold. She would have to ask about it later. For now she summoned her wind hands to help her carry everything to Sabec¡¯s wagon. The large gnoll was in the process of hooking up his horses when she approached.
¡°Ah, good morning, miss Sif,¡± Sabec said. ¡°How did you sleep, hmm?¡±
¡°Best sleep I¡¯ve had in days, honestly,¡± Freja responded. ¡°Where do I put this stuff? I am ready to help.¡±
¡°Sabec will show you, yes?¡± he said as he finished tightening the straps on the horse. ¡°Come with Sabec and watch your step,¡± he said as they walked along the side of his cart.
¡°I know you¡¯re merchants, what do you all sell?¡± Freja asked.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
¡°Sabec sells tools. Wood, iron, steel, and orichalcum for any need. All orichalcum tools are enchanted.¡± He noted Freja perk up a bit at the orichalcum. ¡°Wendigo loves enchanted tools. They have a large population of those who can use magic, yes?¡± Freja nodded and Sabec chuckled to himself. ¡°Joha sells spices from his homeland. You liked the food yesterday, it is because of some of his spices. The goblins, they sell a little bit of everything. This one doubts all of it is legally acquired goods, so watch your things. They have not stolen from Sabec, but this one catches their scent around my cart from time to time.¡±
¡°They¡¯re thieves?¡± Freja asked as she looked over to her bag that she¡¯d left out in the open.
¡°Sabec is not sure, these are only observations,¡± he said dismissively. ¡°Children are curious are they not? The goblins have two and they like to snoop.¡±
She believed Bjorn must have picked up on her concern through their bond, because he ran over to her stuff and inspected it. She turned her attention back to Sabec as he opened the back of the transport. Inside it was filled with shelves, stocked with everything from hammers and nails to saws, anvils, and farming equipment. He jumped up the four or so feet in a single bound, and Freja had to use her mana muscle saturation to do the same.
Mana Muscle Saturation
Magic cost: 1
Push your mana into your muscles and bones to temporarily increase your physical attributes.
¡°You will be riding with Sabec on our journey,¡± he said, pointing out a space for Freja to place the folded up tent. ¡°Sabec is the only one with space for an additional rider. Go bring your things, we will store them now.¡±
Freja placed the tent where he pointed out. There was barely enough room but with a little force she managed to squeeze it in.
¡°Okay, I will be right back Sabec.¡± Freja responded as she hopped down from the wagon.
¡°Sif,¡± Embla¡¯s voice caught Freja off guard mid stride. ¡°Can you come with me for a moment?¡±
Freja hesitated for a moment but seeing the serious look on Embla¡¯s face relented with a nod.
***
The Isi had their own little campsite set apart from the merchants¡¯ bustling wagons. It was small but orderly, with five warriors surrounding a grim collection of items Freja instantly recognized. Her heart sank as her eyes swept over the pile: the broken antler from the treant, the head of the steel wolf, and several shadow wolf corpses, perfectly intact and laid out with precision. Among the grisly trophies, she spotted her alchemy case. It looked untouched, though slightly scuffed from being tossed around during her escape.
The Isi warriors stood in a loose semicircle, their postures casual but watchful. They were sizing her up, their gazes probing for any hint of weakness.
The youngest of the group stepped forward, breaking the tense silence. His antlers weren¡¯t fully grown but were capped with sleek black steel. He looked a few years older than Freja, his snowfallen complexion marked with faint freckles along his neck.
¡°Sif, right?¡± he asked. ¡°My name is Tyr, heir of the Isi Lesser House. We¡¯ve been patrolling the lands granted to us by the Nazem. I can see you¡¯ve been through quite an ordeal, but could you explain what happened? Vellir Village... Are you a survivor from there?¡±
Freja hesitated, her mind flashing back to the horrors she¡¯d witnessed. ¡°No,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think there were any survivors. When Bjorn and I encountered the steel wolf and its pack, we ran. I found the village, but¡ the treant had already killed everyone.¡±
Tyr nodded solemnly, his expression grave. ¡°Did you kill the wolves and start that fire?¡±
¡°It was self-defense,¡± Freja replied, her tone steady but guarded.
¡°So, you¡¯re a mage?¡± Embla interjected, her sharp gaze boring into Freja.
¡°Embla, please,¡± Tyr interrupted, casting her a pointed look before turning back to Freja. His voice softened. ¡°Sif, what you did was admirable. From what Embla described, the treant hadn¡¯t completely turned yet, but it was close. If it had, we¡¯d be facing a much bigger problem. Those lost in Vellir will be honored, as will you.¡±
¡°This is troubling news,¡± the largest man in the group rumbled. ¡°Heir Tyr, we should report this to your father immediately. A druid this far into the country¡ there could be more.¡±
Tyr fell silent, his brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. We need to send word at once. Svan, Bo, you¡¯ll head back to deliver the report. The rest of us will continue our route to deliver the supplies and check on the other villages.¡±
¡°You should come with us,¡± Svan said, his tone firm.
¡°I am undergoing my trial under the supervision of our fr?eikona,¡± Tyr replied with a note of finality. ¡°I will be fine, Svan.¡±
The group¡¯s attention shifted as they began discussing their plans. Freja, momentarily forgotten, used the opportunity to study Tyr more closely. Despite his youthful features, he carried himself with a practiced authority. Freja felt jealousy for the young man, despite being from a lesser house he had a regal air, and his confident posture spoke of a well-trained Hier. He was in a way, everything she as a Shai could never be. Not in this life anyway.
Finally, Freja took a deep breath and stepped forward. ¡°Excuse me,¡± she said, her voice clear but polite. ¡°The alchemy case there¡ªit¡¯s mine. I dropped it during the escape. Could I have it back?¡±
The warriors paused, their gazes turning back to her.
Tyr looked at the case, then at Freja. ¡°Of course,¡± he said with a faint smile. ¡°Embla, return it to her.¡±
Embla¡¯s expression was unreadable as she picked up the case and handed it to Freja. Her grip lingered for a moment, and her sharp eyes seemed to hold a dozen unspoken questions. Before she could voice any of them, Tyr intervened.
¡°That¡¯s enough, Embla,¡± Tyr said firmly. ¡°Sif has been through enough for one day don¡¯t you think. Even the Forest Father closes his eyes to rest. Let her go.¡±
Embla gave a small, reluctant nod and stepped back.
¡°Thank you,¡± Freja said, clutching the case tightly.
Tyr inclined his head. ¡°You¡¯re free to leave, Sif. Thank you again for what you¡¯ve done. Your actions saved lives, whether you realize it or not. As soon as we return to the village estate I am sure my father will reward you for what you have done.¡± He placed a hand on his heart. ¡°Forest Father guide, sister.¡±
Freja offered a faint smile in return and turned to leave, her alchemy case safely in her hands.
***
Bjorn sat near the fire as Helina cooked breakfast over the for her family. It was a mixture of sausage, potatoes and manchet bread. Bjorn laid down across from her, angling himself so he could see Freja and the snowfallen warriors. He positioned himself so he could react quickly if he needed to. He felt tense, meeting such nice people out on the road like this felt unlikely. While he watched Freja closely Owen walked up and kissed Helina on the cheek.
¡°Almost ready?¡± he asked.
¡°Only a few more minutes, dear,¡± Helina stated.
¡°What did you find out about our new guests?¡± Owen inquired.
¡°Wait, shh,¡± Helina said. ¡°Her familiar is right there.¡±
¡°He''s delta at the most,¡± Owen with a dismissive chuckle. ¡°No different from a regular pet right now.¡±
Helina looked at Bjorn for a long moment then sighed. ¡°She¡¯s definitely on the run, at first I thought thief, or common criminal. Her staff and knife are druid made, and I think she killed someone to get them.¡±
¡°Hmm¡ That could be trouble,¡± Owen said in a long breath. ¡°You think she¡¯s a deserter from that war they''re fighting?¡±
¡°Does she look like a fighter to you?¡± Helina asked sarcastically. ¡°No, I don¡¯t know how she got the weapons but she definitely used them on someone or something recently. I think it was her first time, too. I¡¯ve seen eyes like hers when she first arrived.¡±
¡°Yeah, I was worried about that,¡± Owen said as he got much closer to his wife.
She playfully nudged him with her tail. ¡°More importantly, I remember that uniform she¡¯s wearing. Some magic academy in the Salstar domain. She said she was kicked out of her family, the Shiagaunt thing they do to failures or whatever.¡±
¡°Hmm. It''s a shame they do that to their own like that, but it does mean no one¡¯s looking for her,¡± Owen said as he rubbed his chin. ¡°Let¡¯s see what she can do. She just survived a harrowing experience, after all. We can let her see what it¡¯s like to be a real caravaneer. No reason to rush things.¡±
Bjorn continued to lay there, acting as if he couldn¡¯t understand them. The goblin¡¯s conversation quickly shifted to bedroom fun as they got a little too frisky for Bjorn¡¯s liking. He chose a time when Freja was walking around to get up and leave inconspicuously. He knew he was going to have to watch the goblins a little closer now.
SND [20] Saved A Life
The caravan creaked to life, the wagons rumbling over the uneven dirt path as the journey began. The Isi had split up leaving several of their members going ahead. Only Tyr, Embla and one other warrior remained with the convoy. Bjorn lay curled in the cargo hold of Sabec¡¯s wagon, his body resting lazily atop crates of supplies. The lizard¡¯s eyes flicked toward the open curtain, giving him a clear view of Freja sitting rigidly next to Sabec on the box seat. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the reins, and the gnoll¡¯s jovial laugh drifted back to him.
Bjorn couldn¡¯t help but find the scene amusing. Freja¡¯s shoulders were stiff as a board, and her expression was a mixture of determination and terror, though mostly terror. The wagon was barely moving faster than a walking pace, but Freja looked like they were racing downhill at breakneck speed.
¡°This one is impressed,¡± Sabec said, his voice light with amusement as he gestured to the reins. ¡°You hold them as if they might bite you! Relax, Miss Sif. Horses are friends, yes?¡±
Freja¡¯s voice wavered. ¡°I¡ªI don¡¯t think they like me very much.¡±
¡°Oh, nonsense. Horses love Miss Sif, this one is sure, but they also sense fear. You must show them you are the boss, yes? Like so.¡± Sabec reached over, taking the reins briefly and guiding them with practiced ease.
Freja inhaled sharply as the wagon jolted slightly. ¡°Sabec, I don¡¯t think I can do this.¡±
¡°Breathe, breathe,¡± Sabec said. ¡°Miss Sif will not crash. Sabec would not let such a thing happen.¡± He released the reins back to her with an encouraging nod. ¡°Now, give a gentle tug¡ªyes, just so. Good, good! You are a natural.¡±
Bjorn suppressed an amused hiss. A natural? He doubted that. Freja¡¯s every movement screamed hesitation, and her wide eyes darted nervously between the horses and the path ahead.
¡°Why are they going so fast?¡± Freja blurted out as the wagon bumped slightly over a rock.
¡°Fast?¡± Sabec¡¯s ears perked. ¡°Miss Sif, this is no gallop! This is a crawl, yes? If you can walk, you can drive. Sabec promises. See? Even Bjorn watches and laughs.¡±
Freja glanced back toward him, her expression skeptical. Her face red from embarrassment as she must have felt amusement through the bond. He turned his head, looking away as she pouted. If he could speak, he might have teased her about being scared of such a leisurely pace.
¡°Not you too Bjorn,¡± She whined. ¡°You are supposed to support me, not laugh!¡± As Bjorn continued to look away one of his heads gave her a side eye. ¡°I know you hear me young man!¡±
Sabec gestured ahead with enthusiasm. ¡°Now, look at the path. Do not stare at the horses¡¯ backs¡ªthis is how one drives poorly, yes? Always look ahead, like you are guiding the sun to its bed.¡±
Freja blinked, ¡°Guiding the sun¡ I don¡¯t think I understand.¡±
Sabec grinned, ¡°Ah, Miss Sif, forgive this one, it is a gnoll saying. She only needs to trust Sabec. Trust is key to good driving. Trust horses, trust Sabec, trust yourself, yes?¡±
Bjorn smirked internally. If she keeps this up, maybe she¡¯ll trust herself not to faint. He shifted his weight, letting out a low, contented growl. Whatever Freja lacked in confidence, Sabec had more than enough for the both of them. She felt good though and despite her panic right now he knew that Freja needed this, she needed to just be a teenager again.
***
The first village they came to was a sprawling farming community nestled amid vast, golden fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. The dense forest of their earlier journey had long since given way to open countryside, the air filled with the earthy scent of soil and the rustling sound of crops swaying in the breeze. As Bjorn would later find out, the kingdom of Yuhia, renowned for its fertile land, was in full harvest mode.
Farmers, farmhands, and sturdy work animals were scattered across the fields, their movements choreographed in the timeless rhythm of reaping, bundling, and loading. For the wendigo, farming meant cash crops¡ªgrains, fruits, and vegetables destined for trade and barter, as their kind ate none of it. Instead, animal husbandry and textiles were the backbone of their sustenance, but the lush fields were evidence of the kingdom¡¯s wealth and prosperity.
Sabec was practically buzzing with excitement as the caravan slowed. These farmers were his main clientele, and he was eager to sell his wares. The gnoll¡¯s tail wagged behind him as he perched on the driver¡¯s seat, giving Freja a toothy grin.
¡°Miss Sif, now we stop,¡± he said, his clawed hands guiding hers on the reins. ¡°Pull back gently, like asking a stubborn mule to listen. Yes, yes, just so!¡± Sabec beamed as the wagon rolled to a smooth halt. ¡°Good, good. This one thinks you are becoming quite the driver.¡±
Freja exhaled slowly, trying not to let her nerves show. Sabec barked a laugh, hopping over Bjorn with the agility of a cat. Bjorn grumbled as Sabec nearly collided with him in his haste while he rummaged through the cargo hold. The gnoll''s claws clinked against the metal and wood of his goods.
¡°Patience, little one,¡± Sabec said with a chuckle, pulling out a bundle of polished harvesting tools. ¡°Ah, see? This one must earn his keep!¡±
With that, Sabec leapt down from the wagon and strode off toward the nearest cluster of farmers, his arms full of wares and his voice already calling out in his usual cheerful sales pitch. Bjorn decided to join Freja on the box seat.
Joha and the goblins continued onward, their wagons rolling steadily toward the heart of the village. Helina waved as their wagon passed bye. Bjorn¡¯s heads tracked them warily, his eyes narrowing as the goblins chattered and cackled among themselves.
His suspicion was interrupted by a light thump on one of his snouts. He turned to Freja who was pointing the offending finger at him.
¡°Stop it,¡± she said softly. ¡°They¡¯re not doing anything wrong.¡±
Bjorn exhaled a grumbling huff, a small plume of warm air escaping his nostrils. Deciding he preferred the safety and quiet of the cargo hold, he made a leap to retreat, but Freja was faster. She caught him mid-air with surprising ease, laughing softly as she adjusted his squirming form across her lap.
¡°Come on, don¡¯t be mister grumpy,¡± she teased, scratching the scales along one of his necks. ¡°You¡¯re still a good boy. I know you are looking out for me.¡±
Bjorn gave a half-hearted hiss, his noses turning up in exaggerated indignation, but he didn¡¯t resist further. Freja¡¯s touch was soothing, and though he pretended to sulk, his heads slowly relaxed, draping over her lap. She smirked, clearly aware of his mock resistance.
For a moment, the bustle of the harvest faded into the background. The crisp air, the distant rustle of wheat fields, and the faint hum of Sabec¡¯s voice melded into a tranquil rhythm. Bjorn allowed himself to enjoy the calm. Maybe he needed this too.
Their attention soon turned to Sabec, now surrounded by an eager crowd. The gnoll held up an orichalcum hand scythe, demonstrating its sharpness by slicing cleanly through a bundle of wheat. The farmers murmured their approval, visibly impressed, as Sabec transitioned seamlessly into showcasing other tools, each met with equal enthusiasm.
After a few minutes, Sabec bounded back toward the wagon, his grin as wide as ever. ¡°Sabec thinks today is a good day for business! This one will set up for a few hours, yes?¡±
***
The village of Vatnaby lay nestled by a serene lake, its tranquil waters reflecting the soft hues of the late midday sun. The village square, a modest expanse of packed dirt with a sturdy stone well at its center, bustled with activity as curious villagers gathered around Joha and the goblins. The group was busy setting up stalls, their wares already drawing a growing crowd.
Sabec maneuvered the wagon into a convenient spot and quickly sprang into action. Freja followed close behind, summoning her wind hands to lift and carry as much as possible. Before either could step down, a group of farmers approached, their sun-weathered faces alight with curiosity and interest. Sabec flashed his friendliest grin, deftly directing Freja toward the boxes he needed while hefting a crate of his own.
Freja retrieved the necessary boxes, her wind hands carrying more than her arms could manage on their own. She stepped down carefully, setting the load beside Sabec, who had already begun his pitch which saw several farmers excited to see his goods. Bjorn, meanwhile, stayed in the wagon, perched comfortably among the remaining supplies. There was little he could contribute to the setup.
As the others worked, Bjorn¡¯s focus turned inward.
¡°Failsafe,¡± he muttered.
The voice responded, defensively. ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten anything. I double-checked.¡±
Bjorn huffed slightly. ¡°Not that. The dream, did you notice anything I didn¡¯t?¡±
Failsafe¡¯s tone shifted to intrigue. ¡°Oh, plenty, I¡¯m sure. Are you ready to talk about it?¡±
Bjorn hesitated, his thoughts swirling like a fog. ¡°Just one thing really. What was the gate?¡±
Failsafe paused as he processed. ¡°Ah, tricky. It was higher-plane magic, something called aether. I can¡¯t make out much more than that. Some beings, ¡®divine sky people,¡¯ created it as a safeguard, by the looks of it.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t think they mean True Humans, do you?¡± Bjorn said.
¡°Your guess is as good as mine. We don¡¯t even know what True Humans are,¡± Failsafe replied evenly. ¡°But if you grew up in a dome, it¡¯d make sense that you wouldn¡¯t know what wendigo are¡¡±
A sick feeling coiled in Bjorn¡¯s stomach. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure we saw the end of my life in that place.¡±
Failsafe¡¯s voice softened. ¡°Right, the dome vanished.¡± He paused for a moment and seemed to have decided on another topic, ¡°but I¡¯ve been wondering about your magic. It¡¯s¡ peculiar.¡±
Bjorn took the life line. ¡°What about it?¡±
¡°You might not have an answer, but here¡¯s the thing: your magic is unusually potent. A spell requiring one point of magic does far more than it should in your hands. At first, I thought it was because of what you are now. But if you could manipulate aether in your past life, that would explain a lot.¡±
Bjorn''s brows furrowed. ¡°So, can I manipulate aether now?¡±
Failsafe took a moment. ¡°Not yet. But your magic remembers what aether felt like and is trying to replicate it. You have a long way to go before you could use aether again, if at all.¡±
Bjorn straightened. ¡°Wait, my magic remembers?¡±
¡°Exactly. You have the same magic core, just¡ younger. And here¡¯s where it gets interesting: Freja¡¯s core is copying your magic. With this new Delta bond, I can feel her core more clearly now. Honestly, it¡¯s chaotic, a complete mess. I¡¯m amazed she can use magic at all, but it seems to be stabilizing by using your core as a blueprint.¡±
Bjorn¡¯s voice grew thoughtful. ¡°So, eventually, one or both of us might be able to use aether?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Failsafe chuckled, a hint of pride in his tone. ¡°Wishful thinking. At the very least, she¡¯s going to be one Infernal Planes of a powerful mage someday. The Salstars really missed out on that girl.¡±
¡°All based on observation,¡± Bjorn said wryly.
Failsafe didn¡¯t deny it, and Bjorn allowed himself a faint smirk before something pulled at his awareness. Freja¡¯s unease bled through the bond like a low hum of distress. Glancing toward her, he saw her standing awkwardly beside Sabec, who was enthusiastically demonstrating a tool to a group of farmers. Freja, however, looked out of place and nervous.
Bjorn didn¡¯t hesitate. Leaping down from the wagon, he padded toward her, drawing curious glances from the villagers as his imposing form moved through the square. Freja glanced down at him, her tension visibly easing as he settled at her side. A wave of gratitude rippled through their bond.
***
Freja let out a sigh of relief as the last of the villagers completed their purchases, giving her a moment to catch her breath. She hadn¡¯t expected traveling as a merchant to be so exhausting. Perched on the tailgate of the wagon, she swung her legs back and forth, savoring the fleeting respite while Sabec finished tending to his remaining customers. Nearby, Bjorn lay sprawled across a sunlit rock, utterly at ease.
He¡¯s not cold-blooded¡ so why does he love sunbathing so much? Freja mused, her eyes drifting to the other merchants before landing on Embla, who stood across the square watching her. The moment their eyes met, Freja quickly looked away, focusing on her swinging feet instead.
Ever since Embla had laid eyes on the druidic war staff, her demeanor had shifted. She wasn¡¯t openly hostile, but her earlier warmth had turned to suspicion. Freja couldn¡¯t blame her, who wouldn¡¯t doubt a young girl claiming to have taken down a treant?
Even if the one she killed had not fully turned it was still a daunting foe. It did kill a village of people before she found it. So for someone like her to have not only survived but also killed it would certainly require a meracle. Embla, as a fr?eikona, would have firsthand experience with the battlefield. She¡¯d likely fought treants herself and knew better than anyone how dangerous they were.
Freja wasn¡¯t sure how she had survived either. The wolves, the treant, even the troll¡ªall of it felt like a fever dream. The memories were hers, but they carried a strange detachment, like she was remembering someone else¡¯s life rather than her own. The surreal nature of it all left her unsettled.
A man¡¯s voice suddenly cut through her thoughts, sharp and filled with anguish.
¡°No, no, that can¡¯t be true!¡± he shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the square.
Freja turned toward the commotion, her gaze falling on the Isi group surrounded by several villagers and was quickly growing. At the center of the gathering was Tyr, the young heir, who was clearly trying to calm the distraught crowd. Freja couldn¡¯t make out his words over the rising murmur of voices, but their despair was evident.
¡°Someone had to have survived, right,¡± one villager pleaded. ¡°My daughter was in Vellir! Did you see her?¡±
The crowd grew louder, emotions spiraling out of control as more voices joined in. Tyr¡¯s attempts at deescalation were increasingly drowned out.
That was when Embla stepped forward. The shift in the air was immediate and suffocating. Her aura, heavy with darkness magic, radiated outward, blanketing the square. At Freja¡¯s distance and given the fact she was a magic caster, the pressure was oppressive but not unbearable. To the untrained villagers, however, it was paralyzing. One by one, they fell to their knees, silenced by the sheer weight of Embla¡¯s darkness infused aura.
Tyr turned away, his expression unreadable. Though Embla¡¯s actions were well within her rights as a fr?eikona, Freja could sense the heir¡¯s unease. It was odd, she thought. In Yuhia, strength ruled. Why would someone like Tyr hesitate to wield power?
Embla¡¯s voice rang out, her tone commanding and unyielding. ¡°Have you all forgotten who you stand before? Heir Tyr brings you tidings of trials and conquest. He has granted you the will of the Forest Father.¡± She paused, her eyes swept over the subdued crowd. ¡°As the V?lva Astrid Thorrsd¨®ttir proclaimed, ¡®Life and death are no serene cycle. They are weapons forged in the fires of will. Death is not the end, but a beginning we can control, just as life is not a gift, but a conquest. The weak accept both as inevitable; the strong tear open the veil, seize the reins, and bend these forces to their will.¡¯ Mourn your losses, but celebrate their vengeance. Rejoice that their souls have now joined the Forest Father as all His children will one day.¡±
The villagers remained still, the weight of her words settling over them like the dark magic in her aura. She released her aura but the people dared not move. There was a long contemplative silence as Tyr and the Isi walked off leaving the group shaken.
Freja watched the scene unfold, her heart heavy with unease as she let out a long breath. What Embla did was what Tyr should have done. She couldn¡¯t help but watch the young man as he walked away. Why did he hesitate so much? Would she have done the same if she was in his place as heir of this land? She looked over to Embla then to Tyr. Two different styles of leadership Freja guessed.
Sabec leaned casually against the tailgate beside her, his sharp eyes glinting with his characteristic cheer.
¡°This one is happy to have sold goods before the young lord¡¯s confrontation,¡± Sabec remarked, his voice low and conspiratorial. ¡°Everyone seems scared now, yes?¡±
¡°It was good timing,¡± Freja admitted, her gaze lingering on Tyr¡¯s distant figure. ¡°Still, he should have been the one to take control. Maiden Embla was within her rights, of course, but Tyr is the Heir. It should¡¯ve been his moment to lead.¡±
¡°You question the young heir¡¯s approach, yes?¡± Sabec tilted his head thoughtfully, his long fingers brushing his chin. ¡°Wendigo respect strength, but Sabec has seen that Tyr is¡ different. Too kind, perhaps. The Isi have traveled with this caravan for some time now, and Sabec has noticed he prefers diplomacy first. Displays of strength? Rarely his way.¡±
Freja nodded slowly. ¡°He¡¯s on a Rite, maybe it is to gain leadership experience,¡± she murmured, more to herself than to Sabec. Before the conversation could turn too introspective, she shifted gears. ¡°What¡¯s next for us? Are we staying in this village for a while?¡±
¡°No,¡± Sabec replied. ¡°This one could sell more, perhaps, but the others have not had such luck. It would not be fair to linger. We will have lunch, pack up, and leave by afternoon.¡±
Freja winced at the mention of food, a pang of guilt twisting in her stomach. She¡¯d forgotten to send Bjorn out to hunt, leaving her without supplies for the next meal. The thought of asking Sabec for food crossed her mind, but she hesitated. Before she could voice her concern, Sabec spoke up.
¡°This one has plenty of meat,¡± he said with a knowing smile. ¡°You helped Sabec, so do not worry about food.¡±
Relief washed over Freja, her gratitude plain on her face. ¡°Thank you, Sabec.¡±
He waved a hand dismissively, his grin widening. ¡°No need for thanks. Sabec takes care of those who take care of Sabec.¡±
Freja glanced at Bjorn, still lounging lazily on his rock. She would have to send him out later, but for now, she allowed herself and him to rest.
***
A few hours west of Vatnaby, Freja finally allowed herself to relax as the wagon rolled along the dirt road. For once, she wasn¡¯t in the driver¡¯s seat, and though she had grown more comfortable with driving over time, her emotional exhaustion from the morning¡¯s events left her grateful for the break. She leaned back in her seat, watching the trees slowly past, and glanced up at the towering gnoll at the reins.
Sabec seemed in good spirits, his tail flicking with satisfaction. The sales in the village had gone well, and Freja had even helped with some of the transactions, a feat she was proud of despite how physically draining it had been.
¡°So, Sabec,¡± she began, her voice cutting through the rhythmic creak of the wagon. ¡°What brought you to Yuhia, anyway?¡±
The hyena man let out a hearty chuckle, his sharp teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. ¡°Ah, Sabec is here because of his mate, Losi. She is a mercenary, yes, a strong and powerful warrior. Her company was hired by your king to assist in the war. Sabec is very proud of her, indeed.¡±
¡°Can you fight?¡± Freja asked.
¡°Of course,¡± Sabec replied. ¡°All gnolls can fight, but none like our females.¡± His chest puffed slightly with pride. ¡°Have you ever seen our women, hmm?¡±
Freja shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re the first gnoll I¡¯ve ever met in person.¡±
¡°Ah, then Sabec must explain!¡± He chuckled again, ¡°Our females are bigger, stronger, and fiercer than males. They love battle and war, yes? Some males enjoy it too, but none are as skilled or ferocious as the females. My mate, Losi, is no exception. She is taller than Sabec, stronger than Sabec¡ªand Sabec is very proud of this!¡±
Freja blinked in surprise. ¡°Taller than you?¡±
¡°Oh, yes,¡± Sabec laughed, his hyena-like cackle echoing across the open road. ¡°Wendigo are different, yes? Your men are big, and your women are small. Sabec finds this very funny.¡± He gestured at Freja, pointing at her slender arms. ¡°With your tiny arms and frame, how will you attract a mate, hmm? Men like strong women, stronger than themselves, yes?¡±
Freja thought about it and found it funny. While wendigo men and women did indeed have those differences strength wise they were near equals. Mana Muscle Saturation meant that they were far closer in strength than many other species. Despite Freja¡¯s size she was already physically stronger than most non-magical humans and likely those of the same level as her.
Freja smirked and flexed her arm playfully, though it wasn¡¯t much of a display. ¡°I think that¡¯s more of a gnoll thing, Sabec,¡± she said with a chuckle. ¡°But I¡¯ll keep it in mind when it¡¯s time for me to find a mate.¡±
¡°Good, good! Sabec approves of this plan,¡± he said. ¡°You will tell your mate Sabec taught you, yes?¡±
Freja laughed with him, as she nodded along.
***
Night settled over the camp a few hours west of Vatnaby, and the shadows of the surrounding forest deepened. Freja felt the weight of both physical and emotional exhaustion pressing down on her. Traveling in a merchant convoy was far more demanding than she had anticipated. Though she¡¯d helped with some tasks like unpacking tools and driving the wagon, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling she wasn¡¯t pulling her weight. Even so, Sabec had been patient with her clumsy driving; she assumed that it would get better as she adjusted.
As she struggled to set up her tent, the piercing whinny of a horse broke the quiet, followed by a blood-curdling scream. The sound cut through the camp like a knife, freezing everyone in their tracks.
Freja¡¯s heart jumped. She dropped the tent pole in her hands and bolted toward the commotion, adrenaline surging. Others were already moving, lanterns swinging as they ran toward the distressed cries.
By the time Freja arrived, Sabec was gripping the reins of a panicked horse, his broad frame barely containing its thrashing. Nearby, goblins were clustered around Wyatt, who lay motionless on the ground. Blood seeped from his head and mouth, pooling beneath him in the dirt. Helina¡¯s wails tore through the camp, while Owen stood frozen, his face pale as the moonlight.
¡°What happened?¡± Tyr demanded, his voice sharp as he strode into the scene with the Isi close behind, their every movement taut with readiness.
¡°Looks like he startled the horse,¡± Joha replied grimly, holding up a garden snake he had just plucked from the underbrush. ¡°It must¡¯ve spooked the animal, and it kicked him.¡±
¡°This is quite unfortunate,¡± Embla murmured as she knelt beside the boy. ¡°The Forest Father provides trials for us all.¡±
Her words did nothing to soothe Helina, who collapsed to her knees, held back by Owen so that Embla could inspect the boy. The dark magic of Embla¡¯s aura pulsed ominously as she placed her hand on Wyatt¡¯s chest, eyes closing in concentration. The tension was unbearable. Freja felt like the world itself was holding its breath.
Embla opened her eyes, her face grim. ¡°He¡¯s slipping. There is not much we can do without a potion.¡±
¡°No!¡± Helina screamed, her voice raw and desperate. ¡°Please, there has to be something, anything!¡±
Embla closed her eyes and whispered solemnly, ¡°May the Forest Father guide him to peace¡ª¡±
¡°Wait!¡± Freja shouted, cutting her off. She shot to her feet, her sudden movement drawing every eye in the camp. ¡°I have a potion! I¡¯ll get it!¡±
She didn¡¯t wait for a response. Her Mana Muscle Saturation surged through her legs, propelling her toward her belongings like an arrow loosed from a bow. She tore through her bag, panic rising with every second.
¡°Where is it? Damn it, where did I¡ªoh, here it is!¡± Her fingers closed around the small vial.
She found the lesser health potion. On a wendigo she would need more for a brain injury but on a goblin it would be more than enough to heal him completely. Assured in the effectiveness of the potion she bolted back to the group.
Owen had to physically pull Helina away, her cries wrenching Freja¡¯s gut. Kneeling beside Wyatt, Freja uncorked the potion with shaking hands, but Joha stopped her with a firm gesture.
¡°He¡¯ll choke if you try to make him drink,¡± the tiger man said in a low, commanding voice. ¡°Give it to me.¡±
Freja handed it over, her chest tight as Joha worked. The liquid inside the vial transformed into a shimmering mist that he directed toward Wyatt¡¯s nose and mouth. The boy¡¯s shallow breaths grew steadier, stronger, as the potion¡¯s magic coursed through him.
Finally, Wyatt¡¯s eyes fluttered open. His gaze was unfocused at first, but as he took deep breaths, color returned to his cheeks.
Helina surged forward, nearly tackling her son in a sobbing embrace. Freja exhaled a shaky breath, relief washing over her as her legs gave way and she sat back on her heels.
Joha rose, tossing the dead snake toward Bjorn, who caught it mid-air with a snap of his jaws. The tiger man glanced at Freja and winked, but his calm demeanor left her with more questions than relief. How had he used magic without a single ripple of mana? It was as if the rules of magic bent around him.
As Joha turned and strode away into the darkness, Freja stared after him, her mind racing. Her thoughts were interrupted when Helina clung to her, crying hysterically and pouring out her thanks.
¡°You saved him! Oh, thank you¡ªthank you!¡±
¡°Well done,¡± Tyr said, resting a reassuring hand on Freja¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We ran out of potions a while back. Glad you had one, things could have turned out very differently.¡±
¡°May the Forest Father guide you, sister,¡± Embla said with a respectful nod before she turned to Owen. ¡°Potion¡¯s heal the body but don¡¯t replace blood, be sure he rests.¡± With that she and the Isi moved back to their camp.
Freja, overwhelmed by the goblin mother¡¯s tearful gratitude, could barely process the events. Yet the camp slowly returned to normalcy. Freja looked at the young goblin then at the empty potion bottle that saved his life. She saved his life with something she made. She did it, she saved someone because she was here she was the difference.