by Tao Wong
Titles
None
Health
120
Stamina
120
Mana
90
Status
Normal
Attributes
Strength
15
Agility
18
Constitution
12
Perception
30
Intelligence
9
Willpower
7
Charisma
17
Luck
11
Skills
Tracking
9
Athletics
4
Natural Weapons
5
Sense Danger
2
Stealth
1
Observe
1
Tactics
2
Detect Vulnerability
2
Class Skills
Improved Senses
1
Adapted Observation
1
Wicked Claws
1
Spells
None
Perks
None
I make my way back to the humans’ trail without much difficulty. With my skill in tracking and the messy trail I left in my mad dash through the forest, it doesn’t take long. Thankfully, my return journey is uneventful.
I occasionally boost my Perception with Improved Senses once again, reading the story in scent my humans left behind.
Chapter 4
The humans’ scents are gathered in three patches of squashed grass and leaves, two big and one small, beneath the low-hanging boughs of a pine tree. The strong smell of resin masks their scent further, but it’s no match for my superpowered sniffing.
They obviously bedded down for the night, then continued after dawn.
The humans continued on, lost in the woods. There’s the sound of a waterfall nearby, and their trail begins veering toward it. A path slowly emerges, one trodden by hundreds of humans. There are two fresh sets of footsteps in the damp earth, one—the father—carrying Katie by the way his footsteps vary in depth, as if his burden wiggled in his arms.
And a plush rabbit, Katie’s favorite, lies to one side—left behind as their pace quickened.
I carefully open my mouth, maintaining a grip on the collar as I catch ahold of the plush rabbit’s torso.
A new set of massive footprints joins the trail, chasing them, the same stink of sweat and dead skin as I detected by the car. They’re all running now, the monster in pursuit.
A roar breaks the stillness of the forest—right ahead of me! I snap out of my tracking trance.
I can see them with my own two eyes. My pack. And something else. They’re on a wooden bridge that passes over a raging river, a waterfall slightly upstream.
A hulking creature of warty gray flesh, ridged with multiple calluses, hefts a tree-branch club over its head as it bellows at them.
I pick up speed. I can’t let the ugly beast catch them. I focus on its form, taking in its sweaty scent. Adapted Observation delivers a scent-based analysis of the creature.
Rock Troll Youth (Level 14)
Given that there were no signs of a struggle on the way here, I assume that my pack are still only Level 1.
Which means the Rock Troll will squash them like frogs beneath a car tire.
Muscles burning, I lope toward my pack, interposing myself between them and the enemy. My pack flinches as I approach—I’m different now, bigger—and the warm flame of reunion almost dies in my chest. Then Katie speaks from her father’s arms. A single word.
“Buck?”
Gently, I drop my cargo at my human’s feet and kiss her ankle where her dress hitches up.
Then I turn to the Troll, menacing it with a vicious growl. The Troll steps forward, swinging its club in wide arcs, the wind whistling around the bough of knotted wood. It expects me to flee, but I’d rather paint the bridge red with both our blood than let it get past me and reach my pack. No way in hell.
I charge, sliding beneath the wooden bough that comes screaming toward me, feeling the rush of air tickle my fur and smelling the thick, sticky sap that still sticks to its surface. I end up behind and to the side of the Troll. I see my pack staring, frozen in shock and terror.
I yip at them. Run.
But they just stand there.
The Troll kicks me, the impact of its warty foot sending me slamming into the wooden siding of the bridge. I limp to my feet. Chunks of broken baluster fall into the river below, their splashes masked by the turbulent roar of water.
“Buck!” Katie cries.
I bark at them again, but it’s mixed with a yelp as broken ribs grate. Run!
The Troll, now ignoring me, takes another step toward my pack. The movement breaks them from their stupor, and they back away, picking up the collar and toy as they move.
The Troll follows them. I leap toward it, pain forgotten. But at the last moment, I remember something.
My claws scrape against wood as they lengthen and sharpen, reforged into cruel points. My new Class Skill.
And one more thing.
Golden explosions of scent detonate around me, and I see so much more. I slam my Perception up to sixty, my Mana falling by thirty every minute. Forty, if you include Wicked Claws.
The Troll is too high-leveled though. I doubt I’ll have another minute of Mana to use.
Time seems slower, the waterfall louder, and every pulse of the Troll’s blood is all the more distinct. The Troll had once been a beacon of sweat and rancid odor; it’s so much worse now. Foul scent puffs out from between folds of fat, flesh, and callus every time the monster moves.
It’s all too much. Everything is exacerbated. The sunlight is nearly blinding, the grain of the wood beneath my paws too distinct and unique, the noise of the churning water verging on deafening. Time trickles past me, like tree sap between my claws, and I stumble, my head bursting from the sensory overload. I feel a faint prickle in my ears and nose as blood begins to pool and run—a repercussion of too high a Perception and too-low Intelligence, perhaps.
But it’s worth it.
I know every inch of the Troll’s hide, every crack and crevice between dry and crusted callus. The beat of its heart is so loud I can feel it on my skin, and the murmur and gurgle of backwashing blood through sclerotic veins—brushing up against stiffened valves—rivals the waterfall for sheer volume.
I push further, adding another fifteen Mana per minute to boosting my Perception. Seventy-five now. I leap forward, intent on tearing the Troll’s veins from its malodorous bulk.
The Troll spots me and roars. Loud. Too loud. I feel my eardrums burst.
And like that, I hear nothing at all. My world becomes noise and through noise becomes silence.
My claws strike the Troll’s leg, raking it from ankle to knee. Empowered claws score clean lines through its tough, callused skin. Not too deep. Not deep enough to reach the vessels pumping vital blood beneath, but certainly revealing them.
Blood flows freely, twice as foul-smelling as I expected.
The Troll stumbles, leaving a red-smeared footprint on the planks of the bridge. The smooth-planed timber creaks beneath the sudden shift in weight.
I tear at the exposed tissues with my teeth. My canines—I take a moment to reflect on the hilarity of the unintentional pun—puncture farther, perforating an artery. The Troll’s roar vibrates my chest with a bass rumble. Unheard but still felt.
And then, the worst happens.
The wounds I inflicted heal. Even with Improved Senses and Detect Vulnerability working together, seeing every place I can harm an enemy doesn’t matter if the harm doesn’t last.
I jump back as the Troll stomps its foot, sending its heavy limb straight through the bridge, down into nothingness, and it collapses to one knee. I pause, hoping its momentum will carry
it through. But it’s not to be. Slowly, the Troll raises itself on one hulking foot.
I look at my pack, at Katie, at the far end of the bridge, and I know what I have to do.
Before the monster can free itself, I dance in front of it, tearing at its fat fingers as I pass. Enraged, it swings at me, no longer trying to stand. It ploughs through the wooden planks, sending a tidal wave of splinters flying.
I dart toward it again, this time standing near the siding.
The bridge groans and tilts as the dumb monster continues to destroy the only thing keeping it from the river. I dash to the other side, and the club smashes after me, tearing the structure we stand on to splinters.
I bark once at my pack. Five years of love and memory contained in the single sound.
And the bridge falls.
Suddenly, there’s a chance. The other side of the bridge remains stable, buttressed by a fortuitous support column. With the last of my energy, I leap.
And the Rock Troll’s club clips me from behind, the glancing blow nearly tearing my back paw clean off. My leg hangs on by the faintest string of sinew. The force sends me flying over the siding, hurtling toward the river.
There’s nothing left to lose. I turn up Improved Senses as far as it will go. With the last of my Mana, I hit a hundred and ten Perception.
Perfect.
The smell of orange, soap, and cornflower fills my nose from across the river. Time slows to a near halt, and for two blissful seconds that stretch out forever with my impossible Perception, I remember.
I remember being tiny, a puppy, not a single summer old, staring at a swaddled bundle of warmth and comfort and realizing that I had found my world as I laid the first of many kisses upon her button nose. Her breathing was bad, and they had to take her away.
That month was a year in itself, waiting to see whether the candle in my heart would flicker out so soon.
It didn’t, and I’ve stayed beside her since.
When she was four, she broke her arm on the garden swing. The swing was cut down, but I stayed with her in the ambulance, growling at the paramedics when they tried to separate me from her.
Katie. She gave me purpose, meaning. And when the monsters came, when the cars stopped dead in the streets, she chose me. She saved me from becoming a monster. She saved me.
I stare at her, drinking in every inch of her face as I fly toward the water. I see her lips form my name as she strains forward, eyes wide, desperate, already brimming with tears.
I wish I could stretch out and kiss those tears away, but I’m too far. And I always will be.
“Buck!” she screams.
But of course, I don’t hear. I can see her mouth move.
My head is burning from having my Perception so high.
But it’s worth every moment.
Just a moment more.
My human.
Katie.
And all too soon, it’s gone.
Air rushes past me, ruffling my brown-white-and-black fur. The water approaches so fast, even with a hundred and ten Perception.
For the pack? My love, my life.
For Katie? My everything.
I close my eyes as the Troll falls beside me like a meteor.
I don’t hear the impact as we hit the water.
I don’t hear anything at all.
Chapter 5
The waves lap silently against my back paws. The cold water splashes over pebbles, sending cool spray flicking into my fur.
Beside me, driftwood litters the pebbled shore, the detritus of the slow part of the river. I should get up. I don’t want to.
Screens cover my vision, and slowly I read through them.
Hidden Quest Completed!
You have sacrificed yourself to protect your loved ones regardless of any repercussions that might befall you. Your love and sacrifices echo throughout the scope of the System.
Reward: 5,000 XP, Title Gained: Unto Death. All damage taken in defense of others reduced by 15%.
Congratulations!
For achieving your first title, you receive a bonus +5,000 XP.
Level Up! * 2
You have reached Level 7 as a Beast Bonded. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 4 Free Attributes to distribute.
1 Class Skill available to be distributed. Would you like to do so?
The words float before me, understood but without context. The remnants of another life.
Aching, I ease myself to my feet. My movements are lethargic and apathetic, my thoughts clouded. Where am I? Who am I?
At the thought, another screen appears.
Status Screen
Name
Buck
Class
Beast Bonded
Race
Canine (Scotch Collie – Male)
Level
7
Titles
Unto Death
Health
140
Stamina
140
Mana
40
Status
Deaf (-15 Perception, cannot hear)
Crippled (-10 Agility, -30% Movement Speed)
Brain Damage (-5 Intelligence, Amnesia) (19:42:16)
Attributes
Strength
17
Agility
8
Constitution
14
Perception
19
Intelligence
4
Willpower
7
Charisma
17
Luck
11
Skills
Tracking
9
Athletics
5
Natural Weapons
6
Sense Danger
3
Stealth
1
Observe
2
Tactics
3
Detect Vulnerability
4
Class Skills
Improved Senses
1
Toughened Hide
1
Wicked Claws
1
Spells
None
Perks
None
A name that is not my own hovers at the edge of my mind, too far to touch upon yet obviously there.
Irritated by the screens, I swipe at them, clearing them from my vision and unbalancing myself in the process.
I look back at my hindquarters. Ah, only three working legs. My fourth is slowly reforming, flesh knitting back together.
I’m not sure to do. I can walk, but who knows where? Or I can just lie here. Both options seem equally appealing.
Once again, the name intrudes upon the boundaries of my thoughts.
I don’t know why, but it’s impossible to lie still. I stand, and all the colors I see hurt my eyes. But I walk.
Something large attacks me, and I swipe it down, feasting on it, not understanding the gray box that appears before me.
It doesn’t take long for my paw to heal properly and for my hearing to return. Soon I’m able to run and hear without issue or impairment. Those status effects are gone, although the Brain Damage and its Amnesia remain. Numbers slowly tick down, one second at a time. My Attributes have mostly returned to normal. But I’m still missing something.
Whatever memories I had, my understanding of the world, were excised from my brain by whatever injury I sustained. My body might have healed, but my mind is still a long way off. Not only that, I recognize my mind. I recognize it as more than other creatures’. But something within it is out of reach. Things I should know are there but slippery, within the scope of my mind but as intangible as smoke. My consciousness seems like an empty field. It has scope and scale and dimension; it is mine. But part of it now is… not for me. I know it’s there. I know that it once was mine. It’s not anymore. Not until the last status effect fades.
It is… frustrating.
&
nbsp; And I worry. That maybe what I had will not return. That the voices and names, the fragments of memory that feel so familiar yet unreachable, will stay that way forever.
The mystery of the name I do not know haunts me. And my Status screen tells a story. My Class, my title. My high Tracking skill. All of it.
I was looking for someone, connected to someone. And they are not here.
Rather than wander in circles, roving aimlessly, I return to the pebbled bank of the river. With nothing but a purpose I do not remember and can only infer, I follow it upstream—climbing as the terrain curves up into a canyon with the river at its center.
A bridge, splintered and broken, spans the water. I approach it. Blood stains many of the ruined planks. I sniff at it, and I instantly recognize the smells. My own blood and that of something foul.
I was here.
Beneath the sweet, coppery cloy of blood, I find something. A scent. Three of them.
There’s a rustle from across the river, and my ears perk up, swiveling to detect the noise as my gaze snaps up toward its source. A human stands there, pale skin covered by hair and fabric. The wind blows toward me, and I sniff, but his scent is not one I recognize. Then the human spots me and stills. Ever so slowly, he lifts a long metal tube.
I stare at him, head tilted inquisitively. The metal tube flashes, spitting fire and a whining round of metal that stings my side. The human curses, and I turn to flee. I might not remember what happened here, but I know when I’m unwelcome.
As I run, I pick up my own trail—and that of the three other scents on the bridge.
The scents weaken the farther I go, and it becomes clear I was following the three humans, for whatever reason. I feel unsure. Maybe I’m going the wrong way? But I forge ahead, following the path I took back to its source.