《Adventures in the Land of Amerikan》 Chapter One: Nick The Prophet In the beginning, there were the Old Ones. With their necks'' the color of red. They created fire - with the black water that lived beneath us. They harnessed the lightning from the sky and used its'' power to create great metal beings that soared through the sky. They left behind the great monuments, made from the earth itself. So large they were, to climb them, you would reach the heavens themselves, and there you would find them and live forever with them... In paradise. The Old Ones created many things. From the largest mountain to the smallest kittilan. But their greatest creations of course, are the seven races. The mighty Starkmann, giants of unparalled strength, clad from head to toe in iron - waging their endless war with the evil draeguns. The ferocious Shou-Nan, men adorned in the hide of beasts, striking terror to all who should happen upon their territory. The wise Kindansai. Beings made entirely of metal, They wield weapons that crack lightning - so they may protect themselves as they venture forth on their quest -that only the Gods themselves knows what it be. The intelligent Syiburgs, said to be the result of a Kindansai and an Oomen mating. Made of both flesh and iron, they dwell underground, only leaving to pursue their desire of becoming nothing but a pure husk of metal. The powerful Ymdi. With an appearance akin to Oomens. They, however, harbour unfathomable power that can sway the hearts of man, conjure monstrosities and gaze into the great beyond itself! The vile Muttons, a plague upon the Wild Lands and anything that would set its feet upon it. With their gross strength and even more grotesque appearance. They torment & terrorize the Oomens, and will forever be their greatest enemy. The mysterious Mag''a, beings, that wield the elements in their fingertips. They are said to reside in the desolate forests of the south. Many believe these entities are of legend, or ascended to the heavens a long time ago. Finally, the most numerous of the seven - and the weakest... We are the Oomens. Small in stature, we do not possess any abilities, other than our will to survive; and survive we do. ----- For I ask you, are we truly the weakest if we are the most of the world of Murikan? We do not have great strength like the Starkmann, the claws, venom and wit of the Shou-Nan, the wisdom of the Kindansai, or the power of Ymdi. But in this simplicity, this supposed helplessness... It is not our crux. Nay! It is our power! Because of our weakness we truly understand what strength is. For this is how the Old Ones intended for their children to be. For there is no greater test of worthiness than being a child in a world of monsters, and rising above the monsters. and when we do, our father''s and mother''s will welcome us with open arms and warm smiles as we continue to grow so tall our heads peak through the skies themselves. So my fellow Oomens, never feel fear when you think about the other creations of the Old Ones, for they may be the strongest on this land, but we reign supreme as the chosen children of the Old Ones. For we are the New Ones! Cecila closed the small leather bound book with a slight thud. She has read this particular scripture over a hundred times. It still fills her with that child like wonder and awe that all Oomens experience when they read the gospel of the wandering prophet Nick. Stolen novel; please report. Not much is known about the great prophet Nick. He was born somewhere in the east of Murikan. When he was young he became a Vicky (a holy man who teaches others the love and knowledge of the Old Ones), but quickly decided he couldn''t truly be considered a believer of the Old Ones, unless he dedicated his life to uncovering the wonders they left behind. Many considered him a fool, for he was not a soldier and even no soldier is crazy enough to travel the Wild Lands on their lonesome. But Nick did not heed the others words and ventured forth on his noble pilgrimage. In his journal he tells us that his early days, he spent his time either running or hiding from the horrors of the Wild Lands. On his third year of his quest, he admits in his dairy that his faith is wavering and intends to head home, regardless of the shame. But fate had other plans. As a tribe of Muttons caught scent of Nick. They cornered him in a stone monument - left behind by our parents. As he shuffled through the rubble, his hand found a metal object of strange design. The wise Nick vaguely recognized this object, for the texts he has read described awesome weapons that looked a lot like this. He aimed the metal relic at his pursuers and prayed. Condensed fire that¡¯s power rivalled the sun, exploded out of the front and turned the Muttons into dust. Nick continued to clasp the relic as it continued to shoot holy light at the Muttons, until none remained. When it was over, Nick wept and prayed to the Old Ones for three days straight; never moving from the spot he had vanquished evil. The prophet Nick spent the rest of his life travelling the Wild Lands with the holy weapon. He discovered many wondrous structures, sacred texts, pictures, weapons, clothing, armour, and more - all created by the Gods. He would visit many Oomen settlements across the world, sharing with them the relics he found, the stories of his travels and the knowledge of the Old Ones. Little is known about his death. Some say he died in battle, facing off against an army of monstrous Flopper-Bunnies. Others believe he simply died of old age, spending his last days imparting his wisdom to the vile Muttons themselves. Some even believe he did not die but actually ascended to the heavens and now resides with the Old Ones, as their equal. Cecila wasn''t sure what to think, but none the less, Nick the prophet was one of her favourite icons of the ages. Cecila stood up with a stretch from her wooden chair. She gazes around the room at all of the books and papers that were orderly stacked on the shelves that surrounded her. She was truly blessed to have a father whom was head librarian of the city: Helena. She began to venture out of the stone tower that hosts her beloved books. Suddenly caught by its wonder she stares at the raising sun. Cecila smiles as she feels its warmth and basks in its majesty. It looks like today is going to be a particularly beautiful day. Truly the Gods are showing their good fortune for her on this day, the day she will be partaking in the greatest test of her life. Deciding she had basked long enough in the Gods'' loving glow, she slowly jogs towards the building in which she will be begin her rite of passage to become a valiant soldier of the Oomen race. Chapter Two: The Rite of Passage Celcila arrived at the training hall for the town''s soldiers. The place was empty except or a tall muscular man with an untamed grey beard and skin like leather. He stood in the corner of the hall - swinging a sword up and down repeatedly through the air. "Yo! Instructure." Celcila shouts as she approaches the man. "Yo! Cilly. You''re here early. Eager are we?" He asks as he lowers his blade and wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his free hand. "Of course! This is my rite of passage. Once I ace this I can finally become a proud solider of Helena, like my mother." "Well it''s good to see you so enthusiastic, but don''t get too excited, wouldn''t want you doing something stupid when you''re in the Wild Lands." "Don''t worry Instructure. I will be fine. I''ve left the city plenty of times." "Not like this you haven''t. You''re not truly in the Wild Lands until you can no longer see the stone walls that protect ya." "I know, I know, so... When do we start?" "Not long now, the team should be ''ere in twenty minutes. Until then, you should warm up." "Yes Instructure!" Yelled Celcila with an overly enthusiastic/ slightly mocking salute. * * * * * Celcila stood awkwardly as she watches the scary looking men and women arm themselves. They all wore chain-mail with boiled cow leather padding strapped over the mail. Then they chose from the selection of weapons holstered across the walls. Everyone picked the combination of spear, light shield, one-handed axe, and a light crossbow with a quiver, which were slung across their backs. This was considered the default gear for soldiers due to the weapons low manufacture cost and deadly effectiveness. Not wishing to make her self stand out in anyway, Celcila chooses the exact same gear as the rest of her team. As she was almost done, draping herself in a wool cloak, her team captain, Brett, approaches her. "You ready kid?" "Yes captain!" She saluted without any hint of fear in her voice. Brett looks her up and down - giving a nod of approval. "Good. Well be heading off now. Don''t want to waste a single drop of Sunlight. Squad, we''re heading out!"" "Yes captain!" The men and women shouted in union. And with that, the team of seven men and five women headed out, to the unforgiving Wild Lands... * * * * * It has been a little over an hour until Celcila could no longer see the large stone walls that surrounded her entire life. So far she has seen no other life forms other than her team. Her goal today was to find a Mutton and simply kill it. She has never seen a live Mutton before, only saw a dead one once. She was thirteen when she did, she cried and had nightmares for weeks. Even now, Celcila must admit to herself that she was still slightly scared. How could she not be? The Oomens are essential prey to the Muttons. Even the smallest Muttons, no bigger than a child, is still stronger than a grown man. Celcila thinks that the scariest thing about them is the fact that they need to be killed twice. When a Mutton dies, it will reanimate shortly after. Sure they''re slower, more clumsy and even stupider but there''s something about the idea of a being capable of living even when dead, that terrifies Cecila to her very core. * * * * * Three hours had passed until they encountered their first Mutton. Approximately three-hundred feet from where Cecila stood was a creature with the shape of an Oomen, but was most certainly not one. "Alright! Spread out and approach slowly. Spears up." Declared Brett. They were very lucky that they found a lone one since Cecila could fight it without fear of being attacked by something else. However as they got closer, it became obvious that this was just the shell of what once was a fierce Mutton. "Shit. It''s a dead one. Doesn''t count if she kills it. Guess we''re going to have to keep looking." Sighed Brett. "Might as well have her kill it anyway. It will make it easier when she kills a live one." Said one of the women - sporting an eyepatch. "Yeah, I guess. Cecila! Do it." "Yes Captain!" She replied without hesitation. She cautiously approaches the Mutton, even dead it could still easily kill her if she wasn''t careful. Her eye''s took in the abomination in front of her. About six feet tall, though it was so heavily hunched over it was most likely much bigger. Pale, wrinkly green skin. Long cracked nails. So skinny she wondered how it could possible still be ''alive''. She was now less than ten feet away from the monster, her spear aimed at its brain. It lazily raised its head - now staring right back at Cecila, with small bloodshot sockets and bleached pupils. It started to stagger towards her, groaning and slowly gaining momentum. Cecila gulps and sighs at the same time. It is her duty as a Oomen to slay all Muttons. She swiftly plunges her spear into its rotted brain. Flesh parted effortlessly, as decay has turned its once thick hide into wet parchment. She twisted her spear like a key and then pulled it quickly out of the Mutton. The creature immediately flopped to the ground - not even making a sound, or a face that suggested it even knew what happened. "¡­ Let''s keep moving." Ordered Brett as he watched the scene end, never batting an eyelid. *WHACK* Everyone immediately turned towards the source of the sudden loud noise, their weapons'' raised. Their eye''s bore witness to one of their comrades body lain upon the ground. What was once their head was now just a lump of red goo. A monster of over seven feet, with wild red eyes, foaming at the mouth as its lips curled up into a grin. It loomed over their team-mates corpse with a red-stained wooden club and snarled. Brett was the first to react, firing an iron-tipped bolt at the Mutton. It found purchase in the monsters'' shoulder, but if it caused it any pain, it did not show it. In fact it looked like it didn''t even notice it was wounded. The Mutton charged. Four more arrows were let loose into the Mutton. Two in the chest, one in the throat and one in the forehead... And yet it continued to charge. The beast finally went limp when three spears plunged into its stomach and vigorously gouged out its innards. ''My Gods! What a monster!'' Cecila thought as she stood frozen throughout the whole ordeal. Unfortunately this was just the beginning. They all could hear the sound of thunderous footsteps growing in sound and intensity. Four more Muttons were running towards them in the formation of the four points of a compass. "FIRE!" Brett roared. All of those who hadn''t fired their crossbows knelt down onto one knee, aimed and let loose, the ones who didn''t were hastily reloading. "CECILA! FIRE!" Suddenly awoken from her dazed state. She grabs hold of her crossbow and lets loose an arrow at one of the Muttons. However due to her shaky hands, she missed her target by a mile. Cecila fumbled through her quiver and attempts to load up another bolt. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. A strong hand clasps her shoulder, making her jump. "No time." Brett said surprisingly calmly. "SHIEDS UP!" He yelled, returning to his previous volume. The team, including Cecila, formed a circle premature, their shields raised and spears held straight. Seconds later the massive Mutton bodies collide with their defence. The Muttons willingly let themselves be impaled by the spears if it means they could have a taste of Oomen flesh. A man called Liam immediately had his jugular ripped out by the teeth of a particularly exited Mutton. Fortunately, that Mutton was quickly silenced by a barraged of puncturing metal points. Cecila collapses to the ground, no longer able to bear the weight of a Mutton on her shield. The Mutton falls with her. She weakly holds the snapping head away from her own. Her eyes closed but they still continue to leak warm liquid salt. The monster on top of her suddenly goes limp. She peaks through her eyelids and sees a metal point peeking back at her, through the mouth of her fallen assailant. "Get up soldier!" Ordered the captain. That''s right... I''m out here because I''m a solider... I need to start acting like it! Cecila did not reply with words but instead just got up and met her captain''s stare. Brett nodded in approval and turned around to join the fray. Cecila scans her surroundings and is horrified to find that there are now even more Muttons. Her seven remaining comrades are locked in battle with the five Muttons that remain. She sprints towards the closest Mutton and drives her spear into the back of its'' neck. Her comrade, Shell, of whom was engaged in combat with the monster (and losing), took advantage of this and plunged her axe into the Mutton''s skull. The Mutton face planted the ground. The two could now see each other standing in place. They gave each other an ever-so-slight nod of respect and rushed off to join their team-mates in the fight. ¡­.... Five more Muttons would join the fray and three more comrades would fall before the battle ended. * * * * * Cecila lays upon the ground, her legs tucked in and her hands clasping at her abdomen. The mix of bile and blood hardens on her lips. Her current appearance was the result of being punched repeatedly in the stomach by a very berserk Mutton. "You alright down there champ?" Asked Brett as he crouches down next to her head. "I... I''m fine... J-just, need a... Minute..." She wheezes in response. "Okay, but you''ve only got one. We need to more as soon as possible." Cecila slowly stands up, hunched and still holding her stomach. She is dismayed to see that only three other people were still alive. Everyone has blood leaking out of their armour. Their faces covered in dirt, cuts and bruises. Brett has teeth marks covering his shoulders, luckily it seemed him armour was able to prevent them from puncturing his flesh. The worst of the lot of a man named Mick whom was in the process of wrapping bandages around his forearm, where a Mutton has deeply bitten him. Some Oomens believe that getting bit by a Mutton would make you come back to life like they do, this of course was false. However, many do die from a bite because of the amount of bacteria that''s in the saliva of a Mutton. Celcila assumes that Mick has already drenched his arm in alcohol before he wrapped the wound up. "This was bad man; bad. I''ve had people die plenty of times, but never this many to so little Muttons." Mumbled Brett to no one in particular. Everyone was sat on down on the sandy floor with dejected expressions. If they had known what was coming next, they would have returned home, instead of moping next to their fallen comrade''s... The earth once again shook to the rhythm of hundreds upon hundreds foot steps slamming upon the ground. "No... No dammit no! Why are there more?!" Cries Shell. "I don''t understand... When are there so many Muttons working together? Normally they kill each other as much they kill us..." Asks Brett. Celcila begins to weep at the sight of at least twenty Muttons charging towards her. "We''ll never out run them in our state... Guess we''ve got no choice but to fight. It''s been real guys... To be honest, I kind of wanted to go out like this... Feels right ya know..." Stated Brett. Celcila watched in confusion as her three remaining team-mates stood side by side, their weapons boldly raised, content smiles on their faces. Celcila does not share her elders'' sentiment. The Muttons, now moments away from stampeding the remaining Oomens. Celcila cracks. Her desire to survive overshadows her duty to stay and die with her fellow Oomens. She throws her weapons to the ground and runs. Her stomach, still causing her excruciating pain, barely even tickles Cecila''s senses as adrenaline pumps through her veins. The cries of her former comrades screaming her name in rage and betrayal hurt her far more than any physical pain she has, or will ever endure. Celcila knew she couldn''t out-run the Muttons. They''re faster than Oomens and seem to never tire. As much as it pains her to think it, her only hope was for the others to distract them long enough for her to find somewhere to hide. * * * * * Celcila could hear the sound of running behind her, quickly gaining in volume. She needs to find somewhere to hide immediately, or her betrayal would be for nothing. In the corner of her eye, Celcila saw the remains of an Old Ones'' buildings. She sprints towards it and practically jumps over the rubble walls. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Celcila darts towards the lightless corner, curls up and waits... One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes... Celcila counts each precious second as her ragged breath echoes throughout the stone walls. * * * * * About an hour has passed since Celcila found sanctuary in dark, dusty rubble. She finally allows her self to relax a little, she raises her arms and stretches. Searing hot pain suddenly roars in her left arm. She turns her head and finds that her arm was no longer there. Instead, a Oomen forged axe was wedged into the stone next to her. Celcila was too shaken to scream. In front of her stood a Mutton, with a triumphant look on its'' vile face. Celcila barely saw the monster pounce as the combination of shock and blood loss was making her eyelids as heavy as lead. Before she completely lost consciousness, she saw the Mutton suddenly lie still, and a hooded figure looms over her corpse... Chapter Three: The Night of Change Celcila awoke in a cold sweat. She throws the woollen blanket that has appeared on top her body. Her eyes'' dart back and forth, it''dark too dark to see, but it seems she''s still in the stone remains of the Old Ones'' structure. Celcila began to violently shiver due to the extreme cold. Her eyes'' search for the blanket she just threw away. She just manages to find the crumpled-up fabric in the darkness. Celcila hurriedly raps it around her body and clings to its'' warmth. As she shifts the blanket around her body,in an attempt to gain more heat. she realizes that this isn''t a blanket at all... It''s a cloak. This isn''t my cloak. I got rid of mine when I was running away, it also feels different. Wait! I ran away... From the Muttons... My team, I left them... I ran here. And I hid... For a long time. Then-then... Mutton! My arm! Celcila immediately grabs her left arm. It''s definitely still there, but feels different... The muscles are larger, the skin is covered in tiny bumps and cuts. It also occurs to her that it is really stiff and aches. "I wouldn''t play with that if I was you." Said some voice in the corner of the room. Celcila jumps and turns to face the area where the voice came from. At the same time her survival instincts kick in, she desperately searches for a weapon on her body, but alas, comes up empty. She is also dismayed to find that she is no longer wearing her armor and is just in her undergarments. "Sorry but I took that knife of that body of yours; it was in the way. So was your armour." Calmly stated the voice. The voice was clearly male. It sounds quite young and speaks with a strange accent. "W-who are you?!" Asks Celcila, trying to sound brave but failing. "Nobody important." "That doesn''t answer my question!" "True, but I''ve got to have a little bit of mystique, I''m sat in a dark corner for a reason. Besides, you''re very scared and hostile right now, you''d try to kill me if you had something to do it with." How can he tell when he can''t even see me? Is my voice cracking that much? "Maybe I would be less inclined to kill you if you would tell me your name, or if I could see you." "Fair point... My names Grigory." "Grigory? That''s a weird. And why do you speak so funny?" "Bit rude..." "Answer the question!" "My-my I''m being interrogated by the girl I worked so hard to save, oh woe is me. What a cruel world!" The voice said in mock sorrow. "I guess I speak ''funny'' because I grew up in a different place from you. From my perspective, you''re the one who speaks ''funny''." "Saved me... You saved me?" "You''re damn right I did! Wasn''t easy either. Never reattached a person''s arm before." My arm... I knew I didn''t dream it being cut off! But how? It''s impossible to reattach an arm." "Not if you have some knowledge of the Oomen anatomy, a whole lot of luck and a few wishful thoughts." "¡­ If what you say is true, that you saved me, then... Thank you." "Don''t mention it. It was valuable learning experience." "If you don''t mind me asking. Why does my arm feel bigger and weird, and it feels like its longer than my right arm?" "Yeah about that... I wasn''t looking forward to that question. Sit down, I''ll start a fire and we''ll talk." "O-okay." Replied Celcila, now even more anxious. Celcila walks as close to the voice called Grigory as much as her instincts would let her,. She slowly sits down. Fire spontaneously appears before her. The room lit up and Cecila recoils in fear at the spontaneous combustion. "I knew you would do that. Settle down, it''s just a campfire." "Bu-but where did it come from? Did you do it?!" "Yeah" "How?" "Sit down and I''ll explain." Cecila stood momentarily, deciding whether sitting back down was such a wise choice. After a short contemplation, she decides to sit back down - her curiosity outweighing her fighting instincts. "Alright. So tell me, how did you start the fire without moving?" She asked as she sat beside the flames. "I''ll explain later. First look at your left arm." Cecila did as she was commanded. Her eyes'' are greeted to the sight of pale green skin, bulging veins and grossly dense muscles. "What the fuck! My arm! It looks disgusting! It looks like... It looks like a Mutton arm!" She screams. "Yeah about that... Your arm was kind damaged and the Mutton who cut it off, well he wasn''t using his anymore." Said Grigory, in a weirdly embarrassed tone. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Cecila immediately vomits upon the ground in horror at the news. Her body shakes and her chest heaves with a deep anxiety. "Oh my Gods''! Oh my Gods''! God''s!" She stands up and begins to stagger around the room, clutching at her head and occasionally dry heaving. "How could you do this to me?! Oh my Gods''! I''m a monster! Why?!" "I saved your life you know..." "You call this saving my life?! You didn''t have to attach this thing to me! You could have just closed the wound! I would rather have you let me die than do this too me!" "I know it''s not pretty to look at, but it''s not that bad. I mean it''s a lot stronger and tougher than your old arm could ever be." "And you think that makes it okay?!" "Yeah, kinda..." "You fucking lunatic! You sick, sick bastard! Sadist! Perverted werido! Freak!" "I think I''m starting to regret saving you." "You and me both! Why couldn''t you just let me die?!" "Because when you see a girl leave her comrades to die and spend hours hiding in a pile of rubble, you kind of think she might want to live." For the first time in what seems like forever, Celcila is speechless. "¡­ You saw that?" She asks, her disgust temporarily replaced with shame. "Yup. Pretty shameful behavior if you ask me." "You saw. There were too many. Staying would have just got me killed." "Oh I agree. But now you''re going to have to spend the rest of life living with the guilt of your betrayal." Celcila stares intently at her mutant arm. "No... I won''t..." "Thinking of killing yourself are we? You won''t do it. You''re a survivor Celcila, your body won''t let you." "You don''t know me!" She shouts in rage while looking for something to help her do the deed. "Give me my kn-" Celcila was cut off to the sound of her knife skidding across the ground and hitting her toe. She grabs the knife by the hilt and places the next to her neck. She ever so slowly drew the iron closer and closer, until she could feel the cold blade tickle her throat. Seconds that felt like minutes pass. Her hand begins to shake, her body in a constant struggle to save and destroy itself. The tiniest lair of skin is eventually torn and beads of red began to foam - like a pearl necklace. Her body spasms. Her left hand throws the knife. The tip now buried in a stone wall. Celcila''s body collapses to the floor, her eyes'' weep and lips quivers... "Fuck! Gods dammit! Why can''t I do it? I don''t deserve to live..." "No one deserves to live... We just do." "But I betrayed my comrades, my arm is now the arm of a Mutton''s... I can never go home... What is there left for me in this world?" "Your home is not your world, it was just a tiny speck in the actual world. If you can no longer go there, go somewhere else and make that your home. If that fails, go somewhere else and make that your home." "You make it sound so simple. We Oomens can''t survive in the Wild Lands, especially not on our own." "Being weak is a pathetic excuse for not living, simply become stronger. So strong that nothing in the Wilds would even think of attacking you." "That''s easy for you to say. I don''t know who you are but a Oomen doesn''t travel the Wild Lands alone - unless they were blessed by the Gods themselves and carry their relics." "I don''t know who these Gods of yours'' you speak of are, but I don''t have anything of theirs''. Everything I own was made back in my village." "Well you''re clearly not normal. I can''t really see you that well but judging by your voice, there''s no way you''re older than me. You seem to be alone, and you gave me a working Mutton arm, I''ve never heard of anyone being able to reattach a person''s arm - never mind attach one from a different species!" "I think your problem is giving me the same standards as a Oomen." "Of course I would, I mean unless you was..." Celcila suddenly went silent, an epiphany rapidly growing in her brain. "¡­ What are you?" She whispers. "I''m not sure if you know what they are but I am a... Ymdi" "A Ymdi..? A Ymdi! Can you read my mind?! Are you currently reading my mind? Oh my Gods! Get out of mind" She yells as she practically jumps into the air. "Will you calm down. Yes we Ymdi''s can read minds. No I''m not reading your mind, I''m still in training. I can only read minds with physical contact and a lot of concentration." "Oh my Gods this is amazing! Is it true that you can transform into animals? Can you walk through walls? Can you breath fire? Oh-oh! Can you fly? Wait! Can you..." Grigory presses his palm onto Celcila''s forehead. He did it so fast, she didn''t even have time to react. Her eye''s suddenly became extremely heavy and her mind stagnated. Celcila''s body slowly slumps to the floor as her mind begin to have such pleasant dreams. "Man that was annoying." Grigory grumbled to himself. Chapter Four: The Adventure Begins Cecila awoke next to the dying embers of last night''s fire. She briefly wonders when she fell asleep. She could barely hear the soft footsteps distancing themselves from her with each thud. She sits upright, while rubbing her eyes''. The footsteps seem to belong to the man she has just must - yet, has changed her life so much. "Where are you going?" She asks him, while stretching her arms''. "No idea. Just, going." "Without me?" She squeaks, slightly hurt. "Well, yeah." "You can''t leave me! I have nowhere to go." "Not my problem." "You can''t be so heartless as to leave a girl in alone in the Wild Lands, to die." "Heartless? Girl I saved your life and wasted eight days of my life looking after you." "Wait! Eight days..?" "Yup. What, did you think you were only unconscious for a couple hours? I fused a Muttons arm to where your arm should have been, that took over a day alone. Then of course your body needed time to recover. I was actually impressed you woke up so early, I was expecting at least twelve days." "Right... I don''t think I ever thanked you for that - even though my arm is now a hideous abomination and I will forever be shunned by Oomen kind..." "Not much of a thank but I''ll take it... You''re welcome Cecila, now, goodbye forever." "Please take me with you!" "Nah." Grigory replied, while walking away. "Why not?" "You''ll just slow me down." "Slow you down? I''ll have you know I was the top of my class. My instructor said he hasn''t seen someone with as much potential as me since the great Lord Ross himself!" "Okay first, I have no idea who that is. Second, I saw you fight, so if you''re one of the best, I seriously wonder how the Oomens aren''t extinct yet." "That''s because we''re the Gods'' chosen. And don''t underestimate me, I was just having a bad day; they surprised us. I bet I can use that spear in your hands'' better than you can, boy." Grigory lets out a sigh at Celcila''s childish behavior and excuses, but he must admit, he is curious to see how that arm he worked so hard on, works in a fight. Faster than her eye''s could see, a sharp metal rod attempts to piece her chest. Her body barely manages to react and twists to the side. Before Cecila could find her bearings, a hand grasps her neck and slams her down to the ground, air explodes out of mouth. Cecila swings her fists widely in a desperate attempt to somehow vanquish her foe. Her hands'' are effortless deflected by the assailants hand that isn''t crushing her windpipe. "Sloppy, very sloppy. But... I''ve seen worse." Said Grigory, as he stands over her with a sight condescending grin. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon."You just caught me off guard..." She protests. "Like that''s an excuse. You think monsters in the Wild Lands are going to challenge you to an honourable duel or something?" "No..." "Good. Well, you going to lay there all day? Daylight''s burning." "Cecila gets up off the ground. Her face is slightly flushed with embarrassment. She now stands face to face with Grigory. Even though she has spent hours talking to Grigory, this is the first time she has actually seen his face. Sharp pale gray eyes, broad shoulders, a wide jaw, blond stubble on top of his head, and very pale skin. He is definitely younger than the nineteen year old Cecila - about sixteen. He''s also a little taller than her 5''7" frame. "Where are your horns?" She asks. "My What?" "Your horns. You know, those pointy things that grow on Ymdi''s heads''." Grigory suddenly started laughing uncontrollably. It''s slightly uncomfortable for Cecila to watch this mysterious being of great power giggling like a little girl. "What do teach you where you live? Do all Oomens think this?" He asked through his laughter. "Well yeah." Her cheeks now once again flushing red. Grigory was laughing for such a long time, Cecila embarrassment faded and went to equip all of her gear. "You ready to go now or do you still feel like laughing like a little girl?" "Oh, er, yes... Let''s go." He replied, embarrassment evident in his voice. Then began walking together out of the building that housed the beginning of Celcia''s new life. As they arrive outside the building, Grigory turns to Celcila - "Hear take this." He said while giving her his spear. "Thanks. I was actually thinking about asking, but I didn''t want to overstep our... Whatever this is." "Good thinking." "So, where we goin''?" "No idea. I''ve just being heading west and kind of seeing what happens." "Sounds good to me. Let''s go!" "I guess the adventure of Mind Boy and Arm Girl begins." He grins. "¡­" Chapter Five: Youre an idiot! "You are the stupidest person I have ever met!" Shouts Cecila as she runs down the hallway. "I said I was sorry, when are you going to let it go?" Yells back Grigory, as he runs beside her. Cecila turns her head and looks incredulously at Grigory. "Let it go?! We''re still in the middle of it! Do you not it see the hundreds of kittilans behind us?!" As if to emphasise her point, the army of feral kittilans begin to hiss and snarl in greater volume and intensity. "Yeah I see them. And I''m almost tempted to turn around and thank them for being super loud. Their screaming is drowning out your nagging." "You are such a kid! How did you not know there were a thousand of these bastards in here? I thought you had the power to sense things?!" "I was... Distracted..." "You are such an idiot! I thought the Ymdi are suppose to be smart." "We are! I just-" "Watch out!" As they neared the exit of the building they are running through, a pack of kittilans descends from the holes in the ceiling and pounce onto our heroes''. "Deihs ayigam emosewa repus." Yells Grigory, his voice echoing in his throat. Before they could dig their fangs and claws into the duo, a sudden burst of purple energy gushed out and sent the kittilans flying. The kittilans quickly regained their composer and continue their assault. However, the kittilans are unable to get any closer to the Cecila and Grigory, for the two are now inside a dome of translucent purple energy, that seems to prevent anything from entering its'' domain. "Holy shit! Are you doing this?" Cecila asks in amazement. "What, this? Nah... I''m just as surprised as you are..." Grigory said with his arms pointed outwards and his eyes'' glowing the color of amethysts. "Very funny... I didn''t know you could do something like this." "It''s... Pretty damn hard.... Can''t do it for long. Maybe twelve more seconds, if lucky... Look for way out until... *whew* I am going to get such a headache..." He gasps hot air as his arms begin to shake and beads of sweat form on his face. "Only twelve seconds? Damn! Okay let''s see-" Her eyes begin to frantically examine everything in the area, anything that can be used to help them escape... "Gods be dammed! How did we get in this mess?!" Cecila asks herself, even though she already knows the answer. * * * * * Twenty hours earlier... It has been a little over three days now since Cecila awoke to find someone else''s cloak covering her body like a blanket. She aches and groans as she struggles to keeps pace with her new comrade: Grigory, as they march through the desolate Wild Lands. Like most of the Wild Lands, the area they have been walking through is mostly, completely devoid of vegetation and life. In their stead was stone, dust and bone. "Are we there yet?" She asks. "Where is this ''there'' you speak of?" Grigory asks in return. "I don''t know, somewhere, anywhere. I just wanna rest of a bit." "Man do you ever stop whining? I told you when you begged me to allow you to join me on my travels'', that it''s going to hard. No one is you forcing to follow me, if it''s too difficult for you, you''re free to stop." "¡­ I didn''t beg." She grumbles. "Of course you didn''t." Sarcasm evident in his voice. "It wouldn''t be so bad if I had something to do. We''ve just done nothing but walk for the past several days, it gets pretty boring. I wouldn''t even mind if something came to attack us." She moans, changing the topic. "Bold words coming from someone who ran away from a bunch of Muttons and left her team-mates to die." "Shut up... Asshole..." She yelled, very quietly. "Well, anyway, you''re in luck. A mutton has been following us for the past three hours, and doing a horrible job at it if I might add." "Three hours? How come you know this and I don''t?" "I would like to say it''s because I''m better than you, but it would unfair to compare each other in this situation. I can feel its mind." "I thought you couldn''t read minds." She says, her tone becoming hostile. "I can''t, but I can sense them. Without using meditation, I can sense minds up to about a thousand feet. Currently near us are six krulls, two kuckens, a woofy, and our mutton admirer. "That''s amazing! I wish I had that power, sounds super useful." "It''s pretty useless in large crowds - actually can hurt a little. But yeah, it''s pretty damn handy. I don''t envy you Oomens. Oh, by the way. The mutton is rapidly getting closer to us, I guess it got tired of trying to be stealthy and waiting for us to sleep or something." "How long until it gets here?" "You''ve got eyes girl, if you haven''t noticed, there''s not many things to hide behind out here." He said while making a gesturing motion with his arm. Cecila began to scan the surrounding area. It didn''t take long for her to notice the green humanoid galloping on its'' knuckles towards them. "Since you said earlier that you''re itching for a fight, I''ll let you handle this one" Grigory says in the most relaxed voice possible. "I didn''t say that... Just a bit bored y''know." "Ooo... Getting scared now are we?" "No!" "Well get to it then. Our new friend seems pissed off at our lack of interest in his mighty war charge." "You know, you really are an asshole." She says as you take a few steps forward and readies herself. "I know." Girgory replied with a toothy grin. Cecila inhales deeply, lowers her centre of gravity, aims her new spear at the mutton, and waits. Normally if a solider didn''t have a shield, they would grip their spear with both hands. However, Cecila only held it with one hand; her right one. As she practised her thrusts in the previous nights, it became obvious to her that she can know longer wield weapons skilfully with both hands, due to the massive difference in size and strength of the two. The reason she held her spear in her right hand instead of her monstrous left is because the right is filled with over fourteen years of spear-using muscle memory. Another reason is that she is unable to properly use to her new arm yet, it lacked the fine motor skills to currently do anything other than primitively destroy. She''s going to have play chess one handed for the foreseeable future. Also, due to its thick skin, razor sharp nails and great strength, it was already a deadly weapon. The Mutton is now only moments away from her. This particular mutton has very disproportionate body proportions. Its head is a big as a boulder - and looks like one too. Its back is more hunched than your average mutton. The legs are no longer than a child''s, but almost as thick as a man''s torso. Its arms are the opposite, longer than its'' entire body, it used them to move instead. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Just before they came into contact with one another, it jumped - using its arms instead of its'' legs to propel itself. The abomination is travelling too fast for Cecila to attempt to attack it, instead she rolls out of the way of the living projectile. She immediately pivots on her heel and thrusts her spear at the beast, using her instincts instead of eyes to locate it. Her spear stops dead. instead of stabbing it in its throat like she planned, the mutton had managed to block the attack with its'' forearm. Her arm painfully tingled when the tip collided with the beasts'' bone. She pulled her spear out of its arm and planned her next attack. The mutton had no plan, it just charges at her, swinging its giant fists like a hammer on an anvil. Cecila jumps backwards - temporally out of its reach. She once again attacks with her spear, and once again the beast blocks it with its arms. Cecila did not care, every time it blocks, she immediately pulls the wooden shaft back and tries again. A flurry of sharpened iron rains down upon the beast, its'' arms quickly being decorated in many crimson painted slits. The mutton grew even more enraged as the attacks went on, using its''s tiny legs, it springs its body at her. Cecila is ready for this. She crouches low, her spear facing up - while as close to the ground as possible. As the mutton is about to land on her. In the second before it happens, Cecila grabs her spear with both hands and stabs the heavens, impaling the monster. The spear parts the flesh like a hot knife parts butter. The mutton now lays upon the ground with three feet of wood sticking out the front of its'' stomach, and three feet poking out of it''s back. Still alive, it thrashes around on the ground - attempting to get up and continue the fight. Cecila knows her fight isn''t over, yet. She grabs a large slab of rock with her left hand and walks up to the monsters'' face. She slams down the rock onto it. An audible sight/sound of bone breaking, blood spurting and the beasts howls of protest course from the beast, as Cecila continues her brutal barrage on its face. Cecila finally stops her onslaught, now that the rock in her hand and the muttons'' head have both been liquefied. She stands up - panting, covered in blood and dust. She looks at Girgory. "You owe me a new spear." He says in response to her staring. "Haha, yeah... Sorry about that." "Meh. You''re the one who is now weapon-less now, so I guess that''s your punishment." "True. I guess I''ve got to find myself a new one. Don''t suppose you''ll let me borrow that sword of yours''?" "Hell no! This sword was given to me by my mother and requires a delicate touch to be used effectively. Something you seem to lack." "Hah! Can''t argue with that... Egh, I need a bath now." "Yeah you do. Stand still." "Why?" "Just do it." Since she feels a little guilty at losing his spear, she does what he says and stands perfectly still. Grigory walks up to where she is standing, raises his hands'' until they are an inch away from touching her skin, and closes his eyes. Cecila watches awkwardly as the boy - whom is younger than her, stands face-to-face with her and has intense look of concentration on his face. After about twenty seconds, Cecilas'' body suddenly feels warm. The blood, mucus, grease, dirt and dust on her body transforms into steam and becomes one with the air. The smell is horrendous but after a minute of this phenomenon, her entire body and clothing is completely empty of muck. Grigory opens his eyes and looks Cecila up and down. "Acceptable. Now, let''s move on." "That was really cool..." "I know." And with that, the two carry on their march through the Wild Lands, to ''only the Gods know where''. * * * * * After a long, perilous and slightly boring walk, the duo come across the remains of many, many small buildings created by the Old Ones, suffocated by grass, moss and time. As they walk on the outskirts of the ruins, they meet an odd little creature. "It''s so cute! Look at it, look at it!" Grigory squeals with glee at the sight of this new animal. Cecila looks in confusion at the creature stood on four legs in front of her. Small and horrifically skinny. With large predatory eyes, a mouth that takes up most of the space on its head. Its head had no meat on it, it is just a skull with wrinkly grey skin clinging to it. "That is one of the ugliest things I have ever seen, and that''s coming from the girl with the monster arm." "Don''t say mean things like that! You''ll hurt its feelings... Come ''ere like guy, c''one." Grigory crouches down and sticks his arm out - while making kissing noises. "What are you doing?" "Getting it to come to me." "Why?" "Because it''s cute." "¡­ You''re a moron." The critter looks at the two of them. "N''eow!" It ''says''. "Awwwwwwwww......" Purrs Girgory. "I think I''m gonna be sick." The critter suddenly runs away, in the direction of the Old Ones buildings. "Wait come back little guy!" Grigory stands up and begins to chase after the animal. "Wait! We''re are you going?" She asks. If Grigory heard her, he didn''t show it. Instead he just continues to follow his new friend. "Come back you dumb-ass. Don''t ignore me... Gods dammit it!" Cecila begins to sprint after the charmed Grigory. They follow animal throughout the thicket of stone and plants for several minutes. The creature suddenly enters a large, mostly intact building and Grigory still continues to chase after it. Cecila has given up at yelling at Girgory and has now resigned herself to just follow him quietly. The critter suddenly stops running and sits in the centre of large roofless room. "What''s wrong little guy? All tired out?" Grigory asks the animal. "Grigory..." Says Cecila. "Come on little guy, come one." He says as he etches closer. "Grigory!" She shout whispers. "What?!" "Look up..." "Wh... Oh... Shit." He breathes. On the top of each wall, there stands hundreds upon hundreds of little creatures, all the same species as the thing they have been chasing and all share the same look of desperate, primal hunger. "I know what these are now... Kittilans..." Whispers Cecila. "Run..." Grigory quietly commands. "What..?" Asks Cecila, as she couldn''t quite hear what he said. "RUN!!!" The kittilans begin raining down from the sky, emitting feral growls as they do. Our hero''s instantly sprint out of the room. The chase begins. Chapter Six: The Price of Cuteness "Five seconds." Shouts Grigory. Shit! Okay. We''re about fifty feet above the ground, so jumping is out of the question. There are like a million kittilans in front of us and a billion behind us, so fighting our out doesn''t sound like a good idea¡­ "Two!" This wall next to us looks pretty weak¡­ "One!" Don''t suppose one of his powers is flight¡­ "Now!" The translucent purple dome that has been protecting the duo from the army of kittilans shines intensely for a split second before vanishing from the world forever. "Aw fuck it." Declares Cecila. In the instant the shield disappears, Cecila pulls back her left fist and slams it against the wall - twisting her entire body and throwing all of her weight behind it. The stone explodes under the weight of her fist. "Follow me!" She yells at the slightly dumbfounded Grigory. Cecila, followed by Grigory, charges through the new ¡®door¡¯. The room is littered with many small, broken, wooden tables. With no time to safely maneuver through them, Cecila leaps into the air - clearing most of them, the rest she agilely vaults over. She finally meets her destination, another fragile looking wall. Without slowing down, she crashes her monstrous knuckles into the stone - shattering it like glass. Another room of the exact same design as the previous one appears before her. Once again, Cecila vaults and breaks. Another room, vault and break. Another¡­ The wall shakes and roars like thunder, but remains standing. Without missing a beat, she pounds on the wall again; and again. The stone is crumbling and bending under Cecila¡¯s strength, but still remains standing. Cecila notices her peripheral vision, Grigory, stood beside her with his arms stretched out. About teen feet in front of his hands are two of those small tables, hovering and rabidly swaying left & right, in a desperate attempt to keep the pack at bay. As Cecila continues to pound on the wall, she feels her bones begin to creak in protest and liquid drip from her knuckles. Never once does she stop her ansault on this prison of a wall, her attacks only intensify as desperation takes the form of a kittilan digging its¡¯ claws into her flesh, as more and more begin to break through Girgory¡¯s faltering defence. The sharp pain of a kittilan burying its fangs into Cecila¡¯s shoulder is used as fuel for her rage. She swings her mutant fist one last time, all of her anger and fear traverse through her muscle and disintegrate the wall - she screams a berserker roar of pain as her knuckles implode upon impact. Cecila turns and faces the one who has been protecting her this whole time. She is dismayed to see Grigory knelt on the ground, covered in thousands of cuts and scratches. His nose is bleeding, his eyes are bloodshot and his mouth is desperately absorbing air as he coughs red phlegm. He lazily fights off a swarm of kittilans with that sword of his. ¡°Grigory get up!¡± She pleads. Seemingly coming out of a trance, Grigory¡¯s eyes turn and momentarily focus on Cecila. Too tired to talk, he instead gives her a slight nod of acknowledgement. Suddenly, Grigory¡¯s skin begins to glow with a purple hue and smoke starts leaking out of his eyes. He tightly embraces his own body. His body shakes, vibrates. More and more kittilans descend upon him. As they are about to pounce, Girgory arms release their grip on him and explode outwards. In the microsecond it took for his arms to move, a shockwave of violet energy erupts from his body and smashes everything in the room into the walls, destroying everything in sight. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Grigory gasps for air and staggers to his feet. As soon as he stand upright, his mouth erupts but this time, instead of awesome power, pink bile cascades down his face. Not even bothering to attempt to wipe it off, he runs towards the awe-struck Cecila. ¡°Errrm¡­ You okay?¡± She asks. Grigory just gargles in return. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a ¡®yes¡¯. Let¡¯s go!¡± As they venture through the hole Cecila created, she is pleased to see a stairway, instead of another room she has to smash through. As she hurriedly descended the stairs, she suddenly notices that the kittilan that bit her shoulder is still there. She grabs it by the scruff of its hairless neck and pulls it off. Her lips and skin scream in protest as the teeth and claws rooted into her flesh are forcible ripped out - ripping her flesh along with them. Luckily, only one hallway now stands between them and their exit out of this nest of horrors. Only a few stranglers stand in their way. Unfortunately for the starving beasts, the duo¡¯s determination has been lit anew at the sight of their freedom. Most of the kittilans ignore Cecila as she sprints up the hallway, and the ones that do try are easily dodged or swatted out of the way. However, the ones that aren''t attacking Cecila have instead chose Grigory as their prey, as they have decided him to be the weaker of the two. As they felt the sun¡¯s warmth upon their bodies - now that they are finally out. Cecila quickly turns around - to check on Grigory. She is shocked to find his body has five kittilans latched to it. It might have been comical in a different scenario to see a bunch of kittilans gnawing on him, but this was anything but funny. As he looks like a corpse and is drenched in every liquid a person can produce. There is also the very audible sound of flesh being gulped and swallowed. Cecila frantically tears off the beats from Grigory¡¯s body - ignoring the pain in her left arm. ¡°Come on!¡± She yells at him, concern evident in her voice. Worried by his lack of response and him collapsing, she grabs hold of his wrist and guides him while they run to safety. They keep running. through the sounds of screaming kittilans, through ancient bracken, through the gaps between the rubble of the Old One¡¯s monuments, through the burning hot sand. Even when they leave the thicket of the destroyed suburb, they keep running. Their minds long ago shut down, only the memory of their desire for safety remains flowing in their bodies. It wasn¡¯t until over three miles went by until their bodies finally gave up and collapsed to the ground. Cecila and Grigory now lie on the cold sand, in the middle of no where. Their bodies itched as sand seeped into their wounds, but they didn¡¯t mind, as their minds are far away from the pain of their physical forms. * * * * * As the sun and moon took turns appearing in the sky. It was only by the grace of the Gods that our heroes haven¡¯t been killed in their helpless, defenceless states. * * * * * Grigory is the first to wake up. His head pounds, throat whimpers, stomach churns, and his body screams, but his only thought at that time is his newfound, forever lasting, deep, loathing hatred of kittilans. Chapter Seven: A Simple Night Cecila is woken by the smell of burning barque kucken. Her body is stiff and aches but she still manages to sluggishly sit upright and gleefully look for the source of the fat-melting aroma. Not too far in front of her sits Girgory, deeply absorbed in the task of tending to the cooking of the meat. ¡°Got enough there for me?¡± She croaks, with a dry throat. ¡°Cecila! You¡¯re awake?¡± Replies the startled Grigory. ¡°Duh, what¡¯s it look like?¡± She replies sarcastically. ¡°Smart ass... It¡¯s just, I didn''t expect a Oomen to regain consciousness so quickly, considering the amount of injuries you got.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not as weak as you think, ya know. Sure we don¡¯t have your fancy powers, but we¡¯ve been live in same hellhole as you, and you know well that you can¡¯t live here without being strong.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right¡­ I think I¡¯m going to stop thinking less of you and your people from now on, maybe.¡± He quietly said the last word. ¡°Good, you ass.¡± Cecila lets out a weak smile. ¡°You got any water? My throats dying over here.¡± ¡°Oh, sure.¡± Grigory tosses Cecila a half empty waterskin, which Cecila quickly proceeds to removes the ¡®half¡¯. The cold liquid feels like heaven as it trickles down her throat and splashes into her stomach. ¡°Oh man that hit the spot!¡± She exclaims as she wipes the excess liquid off of her face. ¡°Thank you¡­¡± Grigory mumbles. ¡°What was that?¡± Cecila asks, as she did not hear him. ¡°Thank you.¡± He says once more, only slightly louder. ¡°Still didn¡¯t catch that.¡± Grigory inhales deeply. ¡°... Thank you.¡± ¡°For what?¡± ¡°For saving my life¡­ If it wasn¡¯t for you I would currently be being digested by thousands of different kittilans.¡± ¡°True.¡± She simply states. ¡°What I did was stupid. I let my emotions get the best of me and nearly got us both killed¡­¡± Cecila stands up and walks to where Grigory is sitting. She sits on the cold sand beside him. ¡°You know, it just occurred to me I don¡¯t know how old you are. How old are you Grigory?¡± ¡°Erm. I¡¯m seventeen, why?¡± ¡°What you did was indeed stupid, very stupid, like unbelievably stupid I mean¡­¡± ¡°Alright-alright, I get it. I¡¯m stupid.¡± He interjects. ¡°Yes you are.¡± She replies with a toothy grin. She suddenly pats him on the back and motherly rubs it in a small circular pattern. ¡°But don¡¯t be so hard on yourself. Did you know I¡¯m two years older than you? And I¡¯ve done so much stupid shit in my life, and will most likely continue to do so. You¡¯re barely an adult, it¡¯s okay to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them.¡± ¡°I know, but this mistake almost got you killed as well.¡± ¡°Since when did you start caring about me?¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± He yells, his facing turning red. ¡°Hahaha¡­ Did you know you can be pretty cute?¡± She says, feeling the sudden urge to ruffle his hair - if he had any. Grigory just starts grumbling in response. ¡°There are going to be many times in the future when both of us are going to be in a life or death situation. All we can do is get stronger and pray we¡¯ll make it out alive.¡± Her tone suddenly becoming more serious. ¡°You¡¯re right - about the first part at least¡­ I need to be smarter, stronger.¡± ¡°We.¡± She corrects. ¡°We¡­¡± Grigory agrees. ¡°Looks like the meat is done.¡± Cecila states. ¡°Oh yeah, forgot about that.¡± They both begin to ravishingly tear into the meat, their teeth clacking on the bones, all sense of decorum long gone. * * * * * Once all traces of food could no longer be found. The two just sprawled themselves on the sand, now just simply relaxing and gazing at the stars, with minor philosophical intent. ¡°Why are you here Grigory?¡± Cecila spontaneously asks. ¡°Huh?¡± He replies in sudden confusion. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Why is a seventeen year old travelling the Wild Lands alone? Wait, did you use to have companions? Am I reopening old wounds by asking?¡± ¡°No, I have always travelled alone.¡± ¡°Oh. Why? I mean you are a Ymdi and can be pretty badass at times. But you don¡¯t really act like someone who grew up in the Wild Lands, and you mentioned something about a village when we first met. ¡°I grew up in a village about a four month walk from here.¡± ¡°Were there other Ymdi¡¯s in this village?¡± ¡°Yes, everyone there was a Ymdi.¡± ¡°Whoa. So there¡¯s a place full of hundreds of people as strong as you?¡± ¡°No. Much stronger. I¡¯m just a youngling. A fully grown Ymdi can¡¯t even be compared to me.¡± ¡°Shit. Wouldn¡¯t want to mess with that place¡­ So why¡¯d you leave?¡± ¡°You sure are nosey.¡± He huffs. ¡°I know.¡± She responds with a beaming, seemingly innocent smile. ¡°Is it so wrong to want to know about my new companion¡¯s life?¡± ¡°I guess not¡­¡± He agreed reluctantly. ¡°On a Ymdi¡¯s Seventeenth birthday, a great party is held in their honor. Music, dancing, the finest food and drink, it was so much fun. Then, at the end, everyone gives you a present. My father gave me this armour and my mother forged my sword.¡± He said, gesturing to his equipment. ¡°That sounds wonderful.¡± ¡°It was¡­ The next day, as soon as the sun rises, the entire village then banishes you, and you cannot return until your twenty-first birthday.¡± ¡°Why¡­?¡± She asks, her eyes wide with shock and curiosity. ¡°This is a world where only the strong can live, like you said. So a Ymdi is cast out of their home and as a result, is forced to travel the world, so they can gain experience and therefore become stronger and wiser.¡± ¡°That sounds cruel. I mean, all Oomens are trained to fight as soon as they can walk, but not all of us become soldiers, most never actually leave the walls in their entire lives¡¯.¡± Grigory shrugs. ¡°It is tradition. If a Ymdi returns, they are welcomed with a grand celebration and are now allowed to marry and have children.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t wed until twenty-one? That¡¯s ridiculous! Most Oomens are having their third child by then. Hell, I¡¯m considered an oddball for being nineteen and unwed.¡± She sits up and yells. ¡°It¡¯s so the elders and the people know that you¡¯re strong and will therefore produce strong children. This method makes it so we will never be weak, and continue to survive.¡± ¡°Damn. How many return?¡± ¡°About half. The rest either die or decide to make a new life somewhere else¡­ My brother turned twenty-one three years ago¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be. If he died then that means he was weak. If he lives¡­ I guess he found a new home.¡± ¡°... How long have you been travelling?¡± ¡°About five months.¡± ¡°You sure are lucky to have that power of yours.¡± ¡°Chary.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°My power, it¡¯s called chary.¡± ¡°Oh. Weird name.¡± ¡°Knew you would say that.¡± Cecila grins ¡°Mind powers working now are they?¡± ¡°No, you just have a very predictable sense of humour.¡± ¡°And you have an asshole sense of humour.¡± ¡°Not gonna deny that.¡± He replies, returning her grin twofold. ¡°Heh¡­ So, tell me about your village.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Just curious.¡± ¡°Fine, but you¡¯ve got to tell me about yours.¡± ¡°Deal.¡± ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s see¡­ When I was six, I tried to¡­ And my father¡­ Itched like hell¡­¡± The night went on and the two spent the entirety of the time telling each other stories about their childhoods. Many laughs were had and a bond was formed on this night. One that will influence their lives forever.