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Shadows of the Great Forest (Realm of Arkon, Book 4)

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by G. Akella




  I dedicate this entire series to my mother, Lyubov Artamonovna Smorodinskaya, a teacher of literature and the Russian language. She deserves all the credit for my learning to express myself correctly!

  Giorgiy "Akella" Smorodinskiy

  Shadows of the Great Forest

  Chapter 1

  The trees of the forest held up their mighty boughs, weaving crowns high above the earth so heavy and thick that not even sunlight filtered through. The enormous trunks were coated with colonies of dark-green moss, hives of parasites and pale-gray patches of fungi plastered over cracked bark. Murky miasmas rose slowly from the tentacle-like roots, dampening the air.

  It was a dark, seemingly boundless forest. A forest of eternal twilight. A forest of the Night Hunters.

  A shadow stirred amid the trees. Seconds later, an enormous gray feline rose from his bed near one of the colossal trunks burrowing the earth. The predator gave a graceful stretch and yawned. The sharp curved claws dug into the damp soil, the huge white fangs glittered in the twilight, and the yawn progressed into a soft growl of satisfaction. The cat could lie there for days, nestled by the warm fallen tree... if not for his hunger. The predator was still for a while, sniffing the air. At last, catching a faint scent in the viscid humid air, he crouched, then leaped. The mighty form soared over the massive trunk, landing softly and noiselessly on the other side. Without a sound, the predator started off in the direction only he knew, fluid as water and quiet as death, disappearing moments later in the bushes enclosing the deadwood.

  The cat found his prey a hundred heartbeats later. A dappled deer was standing on the edge of a particularly thick bush, devouring the large succulent leaves. The deer didn't notice the large gray shadow moving across the landscape until way too late, falling almost instantly, crushed underneath the powerful feline body with its throat ripped open. Surveying his surroundings with glowing yellow eyes, the predator proceeded to devour the warm smoking meat—unhurriedly, savoring every bite.

  Suddenly, strange images began flashing through the great cat's mind. So vivid were the visions that the animal even halted his bloody feast. There were bipedal creatures in queer glistening skins... Humans? Elves? A young girl—green-eyed and red of hair—stood next to a stubby tree. She smiled and waved at him. A strapping raven-haired lad clapped him on the shoulder, squeezed his hand and muttered something unintelligible. Wait, his hand?! Alyona?! Roman?! Max?! Another fellow with a peculiar stick in his hands hurled fireballs at a colossal skeleton. A fair-haired elven female scratched her pet bear behind the ear...

  Then the visions were gone, fleeting away just as suddenly as they had appeared. The gray cat raised his head, bared his teeth, and roared. The sound—one full of rage and woe—seemed to resound in every corner of the Great Forest, reaching its very core. This was followed by the snapping of dry branches and the rustling of leaves—both in the crowns high above the earth and in the bushes carpeting the forest floor. There came a ferocious hissing to the fore as the ground shook from heavy footfall. Moments later, an Ancient Beast broke through the shrubbery and emerged in the meadow. Rising roughly thirteen feet above the ground while measuring closer to fifty feet from end to end, the fiend resembled an enormous triton. Between a muzzle covered in large, pus-filled warts, massive fangs curving inward, an unblinking gaze of eyes glowing a menacing crimson, and a serpent's forked tongue flickering in his maw, the monster looked every bit like the spawn of a terrible nightmare. A light breeze was blowing in the direction of the unwanted guest, because of which the hunter hadn't immediately picked up the Enemy's scent. Having noticed the cat, the fiend started toward him, its hissing growing in shrillness and volume. The colossal reptilian body left a trail of trampled grass in its wake, a noxious goo oozing from its warts, staining the ground with blood-red blots. The fur on the back of the cat's nape stood on end. His yellow eyes suddenly infused with red, he stepped over the slain deer carcass. Pressing his ears to his head, he gave another menacing roar, and advanced on the monster. He was the master and protector of this forest, and no vile monster from the Great Swamp would dare stand in his way! The fiend attacked first. With his maw open wide, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth, it rushed forward... but its powerful jaws caught only air. Easily dodging the frontal attack, the cat leaped onto the the lizard's upper back, sinking his claws into the thick hide, and proceeded to tear at the back of the pockmarked neck...

  Max' eyes snapped open. He lay there for a moment, drawing deep heavy breaths, then sat up and wiped the cold sweat off his brow. It was only a dream! For the third night in a row... The light of the full moon had a misty quality to it as it streamed through the window of their improvised dwelling. He looked over his wrists, just to be sure. Noticing no changes, he got up—quietly, careful not to wake the others—and walked out of the tent.

  It was the dead of night. The silence was thick in the air, disturbed only by the chirping of cicadas, the crackling of a nearby campfire, and fish splashing in the lake, its glossy obsidian surface rippling and churning. After clapping his pockets in a habitual motion, Max reached into his bag for a rolled-up cigarette and took a seat by the fire. Picking up a smoldering branch, he lit up, took a deep drag and sat back, gazing up at the star-studded sky.

  "Again?"

  Luffy was sitting right across, the flames' reflections dancing in his eyes. The mage hadn't moved, seemingly hypnotized by the blaze. Indeed, it seemed to Max that his friend's thoughts were a million miles away.

  "Again what?"

  "Your dream. It's been a month and a half that day," Luffy said, repositioning the staff lying across his lap. "You're starting to turn, and she... she probably won't be back anymore."

  "What makes you say that?" Max shot his interlocutor a skeptical look while exhaling a ring of smoke.

  "You growl in your sleep," said the mage. "Somehow I doubt you're dreaming of pleasant things. Or were you talking about Tasha?"

  "Would you quit whining about that?! Do you have any idea how hard it would be for her to get here? Or did you forget her level? How is she supposed to get to this island in one piece? And please stop worrying about me. I don't exactly know what is happening, but there's plenty of fight left in me. Once we make it to Ellorian, I'll go see the alchemists. Or the druids. They might know what to do."

  "And what exactly are you going to tell them?"

  "I'll think of something," Max grunted. "The moon should recede tomorrow, which gives me a whole month to work with. And yes, I'm quite aware that I probably won't survive the next full moon. Not in this form, at least."

  "You think the full moon has something to do with it?" Luffy perked up.

  "Were you born yesterday or something? Or have you never seen a movie or read a book about werewolves?"

  "Sorry, I never really cared for that sort of thing," Luffy confessed, tossing some firewood into the flames.

  "It's all right, the gaps in your education will be filled in no time," Max assured him.

  "I'm honestly not opposed to it. It's just that things are moving from bad to worse every day."

  "Don't worry so much—your kitten will find you eventually. And when she does, you'll be howling at the moon for very different reasons."

  Flicking the finished cigarette into the fire, Max rose to his feet and gazed out on the wood surrounding their lakeside camp.

  "We'll be done with this quest tomorrow, and then we're off to Ellorian. I plan to spend a good week grinding social quests—I'm sick of sleeping tents, barbecue at every meal, and round-the-clock guard duty. It's been over a month since I slept in a bed. And I wouldn't mind knocking back a few shots of vodka, c
ause I still haven't worked up the courage to try that slop Bonbon has been brewing. Especially after he and Donut thought they saw naked women running through the forest after one of their binges."

  "Donut swears those were dryads."

  "I don't care if it was the Pope himself!" said Max with a chuckle. "I saw one of the ingredients he'd mixed into his pail. And I'm not convinced by his assurance that it's safe for human consumption because birds gobble it up without any detriment to their health. What if those birds are total druggies? Keep chugging that swill and you'll be seeing more than just dryads."

  "Let's just forget about them," the mage frowned. "Tell me this: do you really think we'll be able to escape this place?"

  "Let's not start this again," Max grimaced. "We've already cleared out all three zones several times. All the zombies and skeletons are rotting in the ground, and we barely get a sliver of XP killing them anymore. So, tomorrow we'll obliterate the main den, put the stone on the altar, and take the passage that will appear. What else is there for us to do?"

  "And if we fail?"

  "Then Kirana will come and carry us away on her wings, or whatever she's got... Whose will do you think we're carrying out here?"

  "Gods, Max! Kirana is stuck in some other plane! Did we memorize all those bloody chronicles for nothing? Or did you forget what's in them? You think the disavowed broke into her shrine and nicked that tear of hers just for kicks?"

  "We'll return the tear and free her..."

  "Oh, is that right? Think about it logically—would she have allowed her shrine to be desecrated if she could help it? The tear has nothing to do with it!"

  "What exactly do you want from me?" Max frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "You want me to assure you that everything is going to be hunky-dory? I can't do that. I'm just as lost and clueless as you are. But there is one thing I'm one hundred percent certain of—that we will escape this place if we complete the quest!"

  "I wish I had your certainty," the mage exhaled. "And you need not console me—it won't work, anyway. Did you even see yourself in the forest? Donut and Helliona are already oozing with envy! And who can blame them? Here's a warrior moving through woody terrain faster than a veteran rogue or a druid in cat form! And what am I supposed to do? Sit here every night and stare at the fire till I croak?!"

  "Quiet!" Max shushed him. "You'll wake people. And look on the bright side—if you had chosen to be a water mage, you'd be sitting next to a swamp, staring at the water."

  "Hilarious. Now tell me, what am I going to tell the others when you finally turn, raise your tail high in the air, and bolt into the woods? What if you won't retain your consciousness?! What if you become some kind of quest mob, to be slaughtered over and over again by raid groups?"

  "Why would you even think that?" Max smirked, trying to instill into his tone all the confidence he could muster.

  "Why wouldn't I? Again, what do the chronicles say? If you get bitten by a werewolf—run, don't walk to the nearest shaman or druid... Or to the temple of Myrt, or whatever that god's name is," Luffy turned to his left, then to his right in dramatic fashion. "Do you see a Myrt's temple anywhere? Helloooo?! We have no shamans, and our two druids are sound asleep, so don't count on them for help! But you should at least ask Helliona for advice. She spends half her days as a cat, so why not ask her?"

  "Keep your mouth shut!" said Max, frowning. "They don't need to know anything just yet. Just think, what if things do go haywire? Nobody needs the extra stress. And besides, druids and Nightcrawlers are totally different development branches! Or did you forget the words of your future father-in-law?"

  "My father-in-law? Ha!" Luffy spat on the ground in disgust. "You've been watching too many soap operas where the characters save their secrets for a cheesy cliffhanger in the season finale. At least they usually end well, despite all the melodrama. But is it going to end well for you? Look, I know you're afraid of Alyona reacting with pity or whatever, but—"

  "Let's just drop the subject," Max cut him off. "I propose the following: if I don't think of something by the next full moon, we'll come clean to everyone. Agreed?"

  "Very well," Luffy nodded. "Now, how about securing the agreement with a mug of moonshine? To take the edge of."

  "We'll be mowing down the disavowed in the morning, remember?"

  "Just one drink! Or are you some kind of designated driver?"

  "Fine, fine," Max grunted, taking a seat closer to the campfire and producing another cigarette.

  A month had passed since the day their group, following a chain of hidden quests, found themselves on this island in the middle of a seemingly endless morass. Every member of their relatively small party was now well past level 60. Their combat skills had grown parallel to their ability to work in unison, and their equipment had improved accordingly. And though the four weeks of non-stop grinding had resulted in only four rares, both of them for the mage class, nearly everyone was now rocking a full set of uncommon quality armor and weapons. Donut and Luffy were leading the way in the damage-dealing department, so much so that Max would often struggle to keep mobs from aggroing on them. He experimented with rotations and considered different talent builds, but to little effect. Lagging behind everyone was Helliona, which she attributed to not yet being fully comfortable with her cat form. If only I had her problems, Max recalled his recent dreams with a sigh. Only now did he understand how flawed humanoid bodies really were. Sure, they were perfectly adequate for living in an environment furnished with all of modern civilization's comforts and innovations, or for swinging on trees, but... Could it really be the case that complete fusion with one's animal form was only possible at the expense of one's human essence?! Or were his fears unfounded? Alas, there was nobody he could ask. His current kin were presently warring with both dark and light elves simultaneously. In fact, he and Luffy were damn lucky to have had their reputation with the dark elves fall to only unfriendly, probably on account of everything transpiring in a newbie zone. They had lied to their friends about accidentally killing an NPC hunter while in Armilan, blaming the unfortunate incident on noobish ignorance. At any rate, asking questions of dark elves given his reputation would hardly be wise. Especially since some of them might recognize him as a Night Hunter, and he could only guess as to the potential ramifications of that discovery.

  With another heavy sigh, Max pulled on his cigarette and looked off towards the lake, where a particularly large fish had splashed just a moment prior. We really are damn lucky, he thought for the umpteenth time. To come upon four zones in the 40-60 level range just a few days' journey from the capital is some kind of luck. Donut had gone out scouting on the very first day; after returning well past midnight, he reported that two-three miles from here stood three wooden structures, one of which housed a squad of the disavowed along with their leader, Agrallon the Hierophant—a level 70 necromancer with 70,000 HP that Max's party needed for a quest. According to Donut, the necro had a real nasty look about him, like an irredeemable murderer. Seeing as their levels were in the 40s, it was painfully obvious that taking him on would be suicide. A unanimous decision was reached as a result at their communal council to grind and grind and grind some more. That had the synergistic benefit of completing another of the quest's objectives: to annihilate the undead roaming their surroundings.

  No sooner said than done. These past three weeks they had taken no more than a few days off, and even then most of those days had been spent raising professions. The party leveled mainly on regular mobs, as quest skeletons and zombies wouldn't respawn once killed. After all the party members dinged level 63, the experience gains shrunk by an order of magnitude, grinding their progress to a halt. The game awarded no experience for killing mobs more than 10 levels below the player, but the zone that contained mobs in the 58-60 level range also happened to be the one where the disavowed had made their den, which gave Max serious pause. Ten hostile named NPCs in mid-60s led by a level 70 boss could pose quite a challenge to a party of
only eight; on the other hand, there was little point in staying here given the greatly diminished returns for their efforts. And so, once Bonbon reached level 65 the day before yesterday, Max decided it was time to move on. His biggest worry was that the fateful patch, which seemed like a distant memory despite occurring only two months ago, appeared to have greatly boosted the intelligence level of the game's NPCs, making them nearly indistinguishable from real players. And given this sudden intellectual boon, could they expect the boss to stick to the age-old and incredibly daft strategy of focusing on the main tank? Or would the "upgraded" NPC be smart enough to go after the squishy healers and damage dealers instead? Max could only guess.

  Damn! Where did Luffy go? he thought, noticing that his friend hadn't returned to the campfire for at least seven minutes. Enthralled again, I bet... The game world, which had become quite real in an instant, would periodically display some truly inexplicable phenomena, with his own dreams being a great example. As for Luffy, he was experiencing something else entirely. These days the fire mage could sit there for days at a time, still as a statue as he peered into burning flame, presumably exploring some deep-rooted recesses of his mind. Wresting him out of such a state was rather difficult, and upon surfacing Luffy had the look of a lemon that had been squeezed dry, muttering curses under his breath and answering all questions with some gibberish about contemplating certain elements of spell-weaving in his trance. Nobody could understand what the hell he meant—what freaking spell-weaving could there be when any spell put on the action bar was activated by a simple mental impulse? But Luffy persisted with his story like a hardened POW, until Donut finally recalled reading some article about certain players who, after spending many years in the game, would experience unexplained flashes of insight that slightly boosted their characters' damage output. And since Luffy never slid into his stupor while in combat, his madness was eventually deemed harmless, and the mage was left alone.

 

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