Chương 63: Something in the Water

With a violent cough, Wretch expelled the fluids filling his lungs. A groan escaped his throat as he flexed aching muscles, feeling sand between his fingers.

"Shit," he slurred. His head was spinning and his body shivered. Opening his eyes, he found why. He lay half-submerged in water on a black sandbank. He pushed himself up to his knees as nausea hit him like a hammer to the temple. His body purged the remaining contents of his stomach in a burst across his lap. Another cough followed before he found the strength to speak.

"That's better." Still seated in the meandering water, he looked around. He was on a shore of coarse black sand that faded into a gloomy forest of firs, their branches sifting the afternoon sun. On the opposite shore was a similar scene, though beyond the treetops rose the jagged Scar Spines. He stood up on shaking legs, his clothes were torn, and a dozen cuts and bruises covered his arms and legs.

"The dog," he whispered to himself, looking over the wilderness as the memories returned. A few birds called from the trees. The train. Me, Elenya and the beast fell. He staggered out of the water, dragging his feet. Reaching the dry sand, he let himself collapse at the river's edge. He took heavy breaths, recouping some strength into exhausted limbs. The belt had torn from his pants, and with it, his weapons. Holding out his hand, he visualized a weapon of shimmering metal.

It burned into existence, the Blinking blade returning to his palm.

"At least I'm not alone," he said, feeling the comfortable weight between his fingers. He let what flame he had flow through his body, stitching his skin and regenerating bruises. It eased the fatigue somewhat, though it left him dangerously low on flame. But he saw no other choice. He needed to move. After a few minutes he crawled back onto his knees and up to his feet, stumbling forward along the black beach. He gave his flame a passing look. He'd kindled but must have been unconscious through the process.

Eighth time. Giving a look to the wilderness around him, he gave a nod. Sternthal had been kind to him. Evident by the new monsters around his flame and the many times he had kindled his flame. Perhaps he would reach Blaze before he was back in civilization. If he made it back. He shook free of the doubt and walked downstream along the shore, leaving a trail of one naked foot and a boot. His black eyes scanned the sands. If Elenya was alive, perhaps the current would have carried her further.

His black bones weren't just sturdy but also heavy, add to that the fact that he couldn't swim and she might just have made it further downriver. He quickened his pace to warm his shivering body.

"It could be worse," he muttered. Wood splintered across the river. He froze, slowly turning his head to the side. Out of the thick foliage came a creature nearly half the height of the trees that surrounded it. It stood hunched on two legs. The exposed skull of an elk formed its head, and piles of furs covered its crooked back, each pelt stained with layers of dirt and dried blood. From its forehead extended branchlike horns, thin strings of sinew dangling from every protrusion.

"What the hell is that?" he murmured under his breath. The creature crouched down by the riverbed and scooped up water with a strangely humanoid hand, raising it towards its skull. Wretch stared, not moving so much as a muscle. It stopped suddenly, hand inches away from the bony snout, then its head turned towards him.

"Shit," he whispered as a name appeared in his mind. Tinem, Unnatural Song. The creature rose on cloven hooves and gave off a low, rumbling call. It was neither speech nor animal cry, melodic and deeply unsettling, like a horse trying to sing. Without a second thought Wretch turned and ran. He had no flame and was far from ready for a fight. But after just a few steps he noticed something was wrong.

His body was slow, every step away from the shore felt like wading through quicksand as an invisible force dragged him back towards the river. A Blessing, he thought, casting a wide-eyed glance behind him. The creature waded into the water, continuing its song as Wretch struggled against the pull. Pearls of cold sweat ran down his forehead as he used his short sword to dig deep into the black sand, thrusting himself forward.

The creature was half submerged in the rushing river, moving towards him at a measured and patient pace. The hollow space where its eyes should be trained on him. Wretch shoved himself forward in the black sand. He couldn't flee it seemed. Well, that left only one option. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. All right, if you insist I'll kill you too, Wretch thought as something shifted below the surface of the water next to the singing horror. The river erupted.

A long hairy body with streaks of silver broke through the surface and crashed into the stag-like creature in a geyser of foam. The song turned into a bellowing cry of pain and the curse upon Wretch snapped. The sudden release sent him flying across the sand. He twisted mid-air, landed on all fours, and sprinted along the shore as quickly as his feet could carry him. The river took a turn and he risked a glance over his shoulder. The water was red and a coiling body thrashed just beneath the surface.

He ran and didn't look back. After what felt like half an hour, he stopped behind a large rock, gasping for air but with the cold finally purged from his body. Let's stay away from the water, shall we? The true wilds, far beyond the safety of civilization, seemed to be a place teeming with named horrors. In the city, a Fireling such as him was a powerhouse demanding reverence and respect. Out here, he wasn't so sure he was anything more than part of the food chain.

The suns was lowering to his right, painting the opposite shore and the Scar Spines beyond in fiery light. He snuck forward directly on the edge between the black shore and the mossy forest. Nov Yanosk and the rest of the settlements should be towards the south-west, directly into the woods, but he wouldn't abandon Elenya yet. He looked up, in front of him the sand had been disturbed. He stopped, listening intently and sniffing the air. Birds sang from the forest, and the branches rustled.

The scent, a lingering acidic tint mixed with earthy tones. Seems safe enough. Carefully, he skulked up to the tracks in the sand. Something had dragged itself out of the water, leaving prints up to the edge of the forest.

"It's not her," he whispered through gritted teeth. They weren't imprints of boots or feet, but paws.

"That bloody dog, it survived as well." He shook his head and pressed on, refusing to linger on the hound from Sternthal. With some luck, it would find something its own size to fight. As the last rays of the sun lit the treetops, the sound of running water grew stronger. Soon he spotted the falls, a rocky ledge that plunged eighty feet down into a basin below. He snuck closer, walking over the shallow running water to the edge. He looked down the cliff with a frown, then turned to examine the rocks.

By his feet, a smattering of dried blood had stained the surface. After a few careful glances at his surroundings, he crouched down and dragged a finger along it, licking the red stain from his thumb.

"Human," he whispered. He sniffed the air, sifting through scents until he found the iron-like smell of coagulated blood. With careful steps he followed the trail along the rocks to the west. Among the boulders, a pair of boot prints zigzagged into the woods. Wretch gave a toothy smile.

"There you are. Now I just have to find you before that dog does." He gulped down as much water from the river as he dared while keeping a watchful eye on the murky depths, then followed the tracks up and away from the shore. The spacing of the prints differed, and the left print dragged in the black sand.

"She's hurt, limping with her left foot." Something had left a bigger imprint in the sand a few meters above the waterline.

"She rested here, then rushed towards the trees. Did she see something?" He followed the prints, sniffing the air. The markings moved around a stunted fir that struggled to grow in the black sand.

"She stopped here. Maybe to hide?" He looked around. At the base of the stem, something had been written in the black sand. Uneven and clumsy characters: Something in the water. Heading east. Wretch nodded.

"Who is the scholarly one now?" He wiped away the tracks with his tail and walked into the forest. The last rays of the sun scattered through the canopy onto the moss-infested stumps and stones. Unfamiliar scents filled the forest and birds sang in a chorus of life. The firs, however, stood silent, their naked stems continuing to the edge of his vision in every direction.

"Doesn't seem too deadly," he murmured as he walked forward with torn clothes and the Blinking Blade clutched in one hand. In the thick moss, Elenya's tracks were almost invisible, but her smell was far easier to follow. A scent he had realized appeared after she used her Blessings. The trees grew thicker and more twisted as he trekked deeper, and soon the sparse lighting from above faded away, replaced by a shuddering cold and the light of the moon.

With every step, the trees were changing, becoming more crooked and strange the deeper he went. A feeling of dread nestled in his chest, but what could he do? He had to find her, and head further east. All he could do was to prepare. There is no such thing as a peaceful place outside our walls. Suddenly, a chime echoed through the forest, like those made from wooden cylinders placed outside the stores of Nov Yanosk's markets.

"A wind chime?" Fatigue washed over him. Tension drained from his aching muscles, filling him with a pleasant drowsiness. The soft moss under his bare feet invited him into its embrace. That can't be good. He pushed on along the trail, stepping over fallen trees and mossy stones with increased speed. Only then did he notice the forest was deadly silent. No wind, no song of birds.

"Damn it," he muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open. It felt as if he had been awake for days on end, every fiber of his body urging him to lie down. The mossy floor looked all too inviting, as if designed to make him relax. I can't go on like this. He slumped towards a thick tree trunk. Biting his lips to regain some lucidity, he climbed upwards, using his claws and curled up on a low branch.

"This is not good," he muttered with closed eyes. When did he shut those? Not good at all. He dug his hook-like claws into the wood and snaked his tail around the branch. When his head touched the bark, he was already fast asleep, pulled into a dream that wasn't his.