His gray skin stretched taut over a musculature and enhanced bone structure that went far beyond any average humanoid design.
Overlapping slabs of solid muscle covered his chest and upper arms, while smaller muscle of the type commonly found in animals strapped his skeleton together.
The usual tendons and veins stood out in stark relief against the underlying joins of extra muscle to bone. In just a pair of short pants, Fenix sweated in the noon sun. His movements slow, sure and very well practiced.
Although any member of his race over the age of ten would have been able to tell that he was not just going through the fundamental forms, he was also struggling mentally.
And they would have been correct, not only was Fenix getting many of his memories back and trying to reconcile them through meditative practice both martially and quietly in an arcane manner.
But he was also struggling to reconcile the death of Convenient, it weighed on him for some reason, strangely heavy in his mind. But those memories, of his time in the Prison before, were not yet forthcoming.
As strange as it was to recover memories from the start of his life to the present, and as frustrating, it did help him piece together his life. And everything up until Convenient’s death had seemed a clear indication that he was only out for himself.
Although it appeared Convenient was manipulated into helping him, it was easy enough for Fenix to consider how to make someone a friend for life while feeling no attachment at all.
But was that really all he had done? If he had, why did it trouble him so?
The muscles of his forearms showed their dints and grooves where they wrapped around the bone; through his upper arm and shoulders, it was clear that he had a powerful build. But still, one that was athletic, not overly large, compensating for the prodigious strength in muscles modified to be smaller and more energy efficient.
A designer race, his kind, bred and modified all to the likely whim of the witch hag.
Although he had no idea if he had ever proved it, the memories did come with the distinct suspicion that She had created his kind. It would not surprise him considering what he remembered of the other witch hags. Strange beings that they were, he recognized that Convenient was correct, he must recollect more to correctly take informed action.
Fenix dearly wanted to escape; that drive was still there, but now it was tempered with logical consequence.
He had left the forest, traveling to the teleport stone to test his newly acquired key and it had worked. It took Vitae, as expected, so no wonder the other powers in the Prison expected to find a due reward for teleporting to the arrivals platform. The cost didn’t bother him as much as the available destinations, the teleport stone in conjunction with the key gave him a host of impressions of places within the Prison.
There were only a few he recognized, and although possible, it seemed quite difficult to zone in on a place he did not know. And of course, it would be a poor choice to arrive in a new place without knowing the area. So he had teleported back to the plateau of Outsiders’ Town and moved on east from there.
Any teleport stone he found could be used to go back, and he had to explore, regain memories, and see if any of the landscape generated a recall in his mind so that he could find the sanctuary Convenient spoke of.
So he traveled, wandered really, from the lands south of the volcanic land mass around to an area of savannahs and massive baobab trees. The ground was sandy and dry; wind rustled the yellow grasses and the entire place smelled of straw most of the time.
It was a prominent place, dominated by the giant trees with their branches spreading from a prodigious height out in a circumference covering up to three-quarters of a mile at a time.
With small green juicy leaves sparsely populating the branches they could be mistaken as dead hulks from long ago if one did not look closely. With an almost smooth bark, the behemoths were a stark contrast to the living forest Fenix had left behind.
Among the trees reclined various mammalian canines of several types, somewhat reptilian with their scales on the soft tissue areas but all sharp teeth and attitude.
He watched a pack of them at one point harass a much larger quadruped that stood taller than most houses and was three times as big as one. It lumbered along the savannah, lowing its complaints for any to hear while the jackal analogs harangued it.
They nipped at the tough hide and other than herding it was apparently doing no damage. He wondered idly if perhaps the animals were, in fact, an intelligent lifeform but decided that he didn’t need to investigate.
He had his own search after all, and after a week or so on the land mass with the giant trees, he had a chance encounter that helped provide some much-needed direction for him.
**
It was nearing dusk, the sun low on the Prison horizon, distorted as it was from this land mass.
From Fenix’s perspective, the sun was behind the higher volcanic land mass, with its tall mountains, but still sinking below the rim of the plateau where the shallower mountains rose, further west than Outsiders Town. The dim light sent his shadow ahead of him in a long streak over the savannah’s dry dirt that passed for soil.
Some world’s prehistoric creatures were engaged in trying to get at an unusual creature that had settled high up in one of the baobab trees. The creatures scrabbling up the side of the immense trunk, gouging their way into the soft bark and making good headway with each running start, were reptilian. They had large hind legs and clawed feet, with dark green coloring, slit eyes and the small forearms of some kind of velociraptor species.
They would tear across the open space under the tree and then hurtle up the trunk for a reasonable distance, their large leg claws and smaller forearm claws providing quite a bit of grip. They would gain enough height to snap their large extended jaws at the being, which would then flutter away, over to another nearby branch or to stick onto the trunk at another point.
This target of the predators was obviously tired, the wing beats were labored, and it didn’t go very far, which, for a being with wings, meant it couldn’t keep going from tree to tree.
The only reason that Fenix managed to get a closer look at the scene was that this being spoke to him. It resembled nothing as much as a gigantic moth, probably twice the size of Fenix in the body with a wingspan much wider and able to carry its weight.
The moth had dark coloring, nearly black but was probably a darker hue of blue. Rings of lighter blue on the wings accentuated the furry covering, antennae, and segmented legs to complete the insectile appearance.
“Please.” The voice seemed to reach right into his mind; no sound would have traveled the initial distance from which he watched the tableau unfolding below. It resonated inside his head, whisper upon whisper creating a susurrus of overall pretend sound.
“Help me, I can fly no further. These things will eat me if I fall. Please.”
Ordinarily, the moth being would have been short on luck, even though its capacity for speech and the tone it used, which was not pleading nor naively hopeful but rather a stoic admission, did make him think twice.
But the recent death of Convenient and the encounter in the forest did give him pause.
That simple moment of consideration made him think about the possibility of lending aid, if nothing else to see what happened. It was quite a novel idea, one prompted by experience, but the concept that he could get something useful by helping was intriguing.
He directed his thoughts toward the moth, which had fluttered over to another branch, the tireless reptiles giving it no chance to rest.
“Give me a moment, I will assist you. Just a simple forewarning, if you attempt to threaten me in any way, I will be your enemy.”
“Understood.” The gentle words were whispered back.
The velociraptor similarities grew stronger the closer he got to observing them better, he knew from history and his own encounters that similar creatures had dominated worlds where they had not been wi
ped out by extinction.
So it wasn’t shocking that they would be relegated to the prison; if nothing else, the Warden probably felt they added to the need for survival, as evidenced by the moth’s current difficulties.
He counted seven of the creatures, not a significant problem for him with enough distance to work with. Their scaled hides would be tough enough to protect them from even the new steel arrows he appropriated from the smithy of Joanne’s armory.
But their eyes would be vulnerable, and of course as tough as they were everything had to adhere to simple physics. Heat and force would still harm them, even if their scales could not be easily penetrated.
He hid his scent by burning it off with a simple consumption of magic, sneaking closer through the high straw-colored grass. When he was close enough, he chose his first target carefully and killed it with an arrow through the eye, sending them milling about looking for the source of the new threat.
He killed a second before the others managed to hone in on where the arrows were shot from, pack instinct sent them spreading out to flank his position in short order.
While running toward him in their strangely upright lope, they could see his arrows coming and avoid them or simply close their eyes. So he switched to the enchanted ones, in a head-on collision the explosive force and intensity of the blue fire killed them quickly. Another three fell to that tactic; it was a lot harder to get their bodies out of the way when running toward the attacker.
The remaining two peeled off, having determined that this was not their day to press the issue, the smell of charred scales and cooked flesh permeated the area once he was done. Small fires produced a white smoke that rose up into the sky from the various points of impact. Fenix approached the tree where the moth clung on.
“Can you fly?” He asked it with his mind. “I realize you are tired, but we must leave this scene of struggle before other entities choose to join us, looking for a weakened loser or victor in the struggle.”
The voice whispered back, it even seemed to come from the direction of the moth.
“You are wise in the nature of survival. I agree. I will be able to fly for a short while yet. Without those overgrown lizards to harangue me, I should be all right. They have been keeping me going for days now, a little further before I rest is necessary, and I will do it.”
He was impressed by the moth’s tone and attitude, something he could relate to. Fenix took off at a jog across the savannah while the moth flew behind him, lower to the ground and mostly gliding.
They covered a few miles before Fenix felt they would be safe, he chose a dint formed on the outside of one of the massive baobabs for them to rest in. About a dozen feet up the side of the trunk and shallow enough for him to sit in, the moth flew up to cling to the upper inside while Fenix climbed quickly up the trunk.
Once they were settled, he got a closer look at the being. It had a head resembling that of a butterfly grown to massive proportion, with a curled proboscis and all. The rest of the body was clearly insectile and covered in fine dust.
“Are you able to affect any potential threats chemically?” He asked it.
The moth’s head turned around to face him; no spine meant it didn’t need to turn its body as well. “An astute observation, you are correct. But those reptiles were unaffected, or they took it as a challenge, I do not know.”
“Knowing their kind I expect they felt warranted, with a pack of seven, and they always try to be at the top of the food chain. Something their evolution never removed and experience rarely pushed out of them. Usually, they win out, as you were close to experiencing,” he replied.
“Yes, thank you again. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf. I know we are in the Prison, so what can I do to help you in return?”
“I half expect you to try and chemically manipulate me and simply leave or kill me actually.”
There was a hint of amusement in its tone when it answered that unspoken question. “Well, you did warn me off, and I believe you after observing how you dealt with them. You have magic, and you are able to survive, plus with no scent, I think you can manipulate aroma and things in the air. I doubt I would be able to affect you, never mind kill you.”
Fenix smiled. “Ah, now it is my turn to call you astute.”
He realized he was using the same tone as Convenient had, that amused and comradery inducing one. He continued quickly to cover the friendly feeling.
“I am looking for details on the landscape, where we are, what else is out there. How to get around. If you can give me that information, I will consider us even.”
“If that is what you seek then I have the perfect thing for you. But before I tell you I want to ask you for further help.” It continued quickly before he could reply, “I know, it seems like much, but I can reward you with even more. I am nearing the end of my cycle of change when I will go into a cocoon and grow into something else. When I shed this skin that I am wearing now, you can take it and make clothing or armor from it. I assure you it is light and very durable, you will find it quite useful.”
“Those reptiles didn’t manage to harm me through it, after all, they would need to crush my insides to hurt me greatly, and they tried to rip my wings several times to limit my flight. That should be proof enough that it has the properties I describe.”
Fenix considered the implications carefully. “But you need me for something; I take it your cocoon phase lasts for some time then? So you want to be somewhere safe. How do I help you with that?”
“Yes, quite correct, it is so nice to interact with an intelligent being for a change. It has been a while.” Fenix considered that something lethal may have happened to the last intelligent being, but held back.
The moth was still explaining. “I do indeed need a safe place, and I need a source of food, both of which can be achieved at the same time in the same place. If you will help me.”
“How exactly?”
“I need you to help me capture the creature that owns its territory under the Primal Tree, I can then devour it, getting the nutrients I need, and cocoon within that place under the tree. It is not a well-traveled area, and even less so because of the threat of this creature. Its absence should not be noticed easily, by the time it is I should be done.”
“I see,” Fenix mused. “And you feel we have a chance of defeating this creature for you?”
“Judging by what I saw you do, and that you would not have assisted if it was going to be a great challenge, yes, I do.”
It was smart, surmising rightly that the effort of dispatching the velociraptors had been of little consequence. Fenix should watch out, this Moth was quite capable of being manipulative and smart enough to do it well. But if it spoke truly, then the possible reward was worth it.
“Have you heard of a place in the Prison called the lost plateau?” he asked while he thought it over.
It was honest when it replied. “I do not, although there is a landmass cut off from all the rest, it is the easternmost land mass, the one the sun rises over. It may be referred to as lost, although I don’t usually spend time among those who would use such a colloquialism. I do not know more I’m afraid.”
He could tell that it was being truthful, and that meant it was sincere about everything else as well, at least as far as it would get the creature for its own needs.
“What makes you think your information and your skin are worth enough for me to take on a real challenge?”
“Well, of course. My information will help you because it will tell you everything you need to know about the Prison landscapes. I can tell you where to find a place that has a complete map. Not just part of the Prison or where I have traveled but the whole thing.”
Fenix didn’t have to debate that concept for long; such a thing would be of immense value to him. If it spoke the truth. And if it didn’t, then he still got the skin and some more survival experience to go with it. It had played its hand well, a tempting offer indeed.
“OK,
I agree. I will help you.”
**
They set off the next morning once the moth had rested enough.
Fenix did ask for its name, but it was unpronounceable except through an impression of thought. They traveled east, toward what Fenix had been taking as an immensely high mountain from afar. The moth explained that what he was looking at was not a mountain surrounded by clouds but the Primal Tree itself.
The sheer staggering size of it made the giant baobab trees look like tiny saplings by comparison.
It was shaped like an oak tree, with spreading roots, wide boughs, and a host of branches, all topped by an overhanging canopy of leaves. So high that it touched the atmospheric effects of the Prison weather system and accumulated moisture. The perception of a cloudbank was, in fact, a persistent mist that drew itself from the moisture captured under the sweeping canopy the tree created and up from the ground with the multitude of roots.
When he asked what such a large tree could possibly be for, the moth explained that it was to feed the creature on which rode the prison’s land masses. Fenix then got a much better explanation of the Prison structure to help his mind relate. The moth also assured him that he would soon be able to see for himself.
Days of travel over the savannah brought them to the massive cluster of roots which attached the land mass of the Primal Tree. They covered the wide gap on a pseudo-bridge formed by a root wide enough to run a sizable cohort of cavalry across. The Tree itself towered up from the horizon, dominating the skyline and overshadowing everything beneath it in a perpetual twilight that dwarfed the forest plateau.
They skirted around to the north of the tree, staying within the light of the sun since, as the moth described, the creatures that enjoyed the perpetual shade were part of the danger that kept other beings away.
So Fenix was able to get a few days’ worth of view down from this land mass to the creature itself. From the angle provided by the higher Primal Tree plateau, he could trace the roots that fell down and across to enter the incomprehensibly big creature’s mouth.
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