Ethria- the Pioneer

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Ethria- the Pioneer Page 12

by Aaron Holloway


  “The fae, in most of the old stories, be dangerous creatures. They have alien minds, even to their cousins the elves. But the fairies see, they always had a liking of us mortal folk. When the fae where banished all them long years ago, well twas a real shame it was that the fairies got taken with’em.”

  What ? I thought, but before I could voice any one of the hundreds of questions this tiny bit of world lore planted in my mind, a tiny purple missile hit me square in the chest.

  “You didn’t help me!” Ailsa screamed indignantly. Her voice was a deep alto voice, for such a tiny creature, but comparatively, it was still high pitched and squeaky, and I had to suppress a laugh at her anger. “You saw those, those, beasts, attacking me and you did nothing! You sat here, and you laughed!”

  “Well to be fair…” I began but was quickly cut off by Riggil covering a laugh with a wheezing cough that quickly turned into a real one. Ailsa, still indigent, went to the old man and held out her hands. A gentle white light went from her fingertips into the still coughing elder who gently pulled the cart to a stop as he hacked up a lung. After a few seconds, Riggils coughing subsided, and silence gripped the road again. I continued to scan the grass to the south as Riggil recovered, and felt funnel of air rush past my right ear.

  “You have been attacked by Unknown Archer. Attack missed, damage 0.”

  With a thought I minimized the screen and whirled around on my knees, still in the bed of the cart, now facing north and ducking down as low as I could. “Get down!” I yelled as I tried to pull sparks from its sheath. Another whooshing sound came from my left, followed by a thud into the dirt behind me. A bright blue light appeared from my right and shot into the bramble-wood to the north.

  “Riggil, get down old man!” Ailsa squeaked as loudly as her voice would permit, as she shot forward, releasing more light blue balls from her tiny hands. Each crackled with soundless lightning and shouts of pain echoed back through the trees to meet my ears as they hit their unseen targets. I looked over and saw Riggil sitting slumped in his seat, but still breathing. I reached up and touched my ear and found a tiny trickle of blood there where the arrow had nicked me.

  Shit , I thought as I looked at the blood and felt the stinging pain as my fingers as I probed the wound. It isn’t bad, I thought, but damn does that hurt! If this world is some kind of VR, they have the pain settings set to max.

  “ Rayid. Rayid where are you? Get over here!” Ailsa’s tiny voice demanded from too far into the wood for me to see clearly. The faint purple haze of her aura was visible, but she wasn’t clearly in sight. I jumped down off the back of the cart, naked steel in hand, sparks earning its name. I looked for a way through the thorny brush, but after a few seconds unable to find one, I used my sword to carve one. It took me a few swings before I was able to turn enough of the seeming wall of thorns to ash and twig, and when I finally stepped past it I found something I was not expecting.

  “There you are meathead!” Ailsa said “Get over here and help me. This one’s really hurt.” Ailsa was standing, or rather hovering over the downed body of a young man as skinny as the twigs underfoot, and about as sturdy as a stiff breeze of wind. His hair was jet black, laying on the ground it was difficult to gauge his height, but he must have at least been around 5’4, maybe a little taller. He wore a forest green tunic, and brown hose with matching shoes on his feet. Next to Ailsa, sitting rubbing feeling back into her face and wearing a worried expression and outfit to match, was a young woman of similar features with very feminine curves and two pointy ears jutting out to the sides of her head. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, but whether it was for the boy, or from getting electrocuted by my fairy guide, I wasn’t sure. “Meathead!” Ailsa yelled, her voice near panicked. I realized what I was looking at and shook myself mentally into action.

  I ran over and kneeled down on the ground as the fairy began to circle around us anxiously. The boy wasn’t breathing, I felt for a heartbeat and couldn’t find one. I opened his mouth and turned him to his side so he wouldn’t choke on his own tongue, then laid him flat and began pumping his chest. Three beats in I felt some of his ribs give way, on the fifth beat there was an audible snapping of one of his ribs and the girl whimpered. “Markel, wake up Markel. He’s going to be okay right?” She asked pleading.

  “We just wanted to scare you, that's all. We weren't going to hurt you, I promise!” She was an elf clear as day, but despite knowing that she was more than likely one of the elf children come to bother strangers on the road, it was still odd to see her act and sound like a child in a fully grown woman's body. I shook myself mentally and refocused. I put my mouth covering his own, pinched the young man's nose closed, and blew as hard and deeply as I could, filling his lungs with air, and began pumping again.

  “Try a healing spell while I keep going.” I told Ailsa who bobbed in assent and began glowing a soft white light, the same type of light she had just finished using on Riggil.

  “What's going on you two? Did you get’em bandits?” Riggils voice asked from the road, it was muffled by the thorn wall. I didn’t have time to respond before I finished the fifth beat, cracking another rib with an audible popping sound and enclosed the young boy's mouth with my own again.

  I was not and am not an expert in medical anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was doing everything right from my half-remembered EMT course as a Boy Scout years ago, but I was sure that if I didn’t keep his heart beating, and his lounges refilling, he was going to die. I sure hope that elves hearts and lungs are in the same place as humans , I thought, I might just be making everything worse. Better to do your best, and fail than to do nothing at all. I began humming the tune to ‘staying alive’ under my breath to keep the beat, and a couple of times I nearly lost it to laughter at the absurdity of it all.

  “Gagah!” the young boy's arm shot up and hit me in the face.

  “You’ve been attacked by Markel. Markel dealt 0 damage to you using an unarmed strike.”

  “Ouh! Really?” I grabbed the flailing elves arms and pinned above his head as he began to struggle, and hyperventilate.

  “Breath slowly and deeply. I know it’ll hurt…” I said the last in response to a painful grimace in the boys face. He was clearly feeling the broken ribs I had just given him. “But you have got to breath. Slow, deep breaths, okay? In, out” I kept saying this as the boy attempted to wrestle free from my grip, but I was much stronger then he was, and my weight of nearly 260ish lbs helped a lot with that.

  My body was fitter then I had ever gotten it in real life, and yet somehow I was still about the same weight and height as I had been. Roughly 6’1, 260 lbs. In the game Kingdoms of Ashe, my character had been a lot taller, but much skinnier than I was in real life. The game adjusted my experience to make up for the difference in body type in gameplay, but Ethria must have decided that was too cumbersome and so had adjusted my character to better fit my real-world experience rather than the other way around.

  Eventually, the boys breathing began to match my instructions until there was another audible popping noise, and I saw the boys' ribs mold back slightly into their right positions. “Agh!” The boy cried, deep wracking sobbing cries of pain and terror. The spell finished, the light from Ailsa’s hands fading. I sat him up, and the girl elf also sobbing nearly bawled him over in an enthusiastic embrace. As they comforted each other I looked at Ailsa and motioned for her to go tell Riggil what was going on, she bobbed consent and rushed off over the bramble thorn bushes.

  “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay!” The young elf girl kept saying between cries of her own. I kneeled back down next to Markel and rubbed his back as they slowly began to chat about what they were going to tell their parents, and how lucky they were. It was obvious to me that the boy was only about ten, maybe twelve years old in terms of his maturity, and the girl wasn’t much different.

  Man, they remind me of Donny's kids so much I thought sadly. I kept rubbing the young boys back until he and who I ass
umed was his sister turned around to look at me. Before they could wipe away the tears fully from their eyes and start talking, I heard Riggils voice again.

  “Who are you? No, bad question. What are you? A Half-Giant?” Riggil cackled the laugh that seemed to be the special purview of every elderly person in any universe before I heard someone rumble a deep-throated response. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I did notice two things, it was assuredly a masculine voice, and it didn’t sound pleased. “Oh, they bothered you too did they? Well they’re in there that way, my guard went after them with his fairy friend, and... Wait, what are you doing?” Riggils voice went up an octave or two, as the sound of metal leaving a sheath rang over the troubled children's soft whispers to one another.

  I picked up Sparks from where I had dropped it when I was performing CPR and stood to my full height between the road and the two children. I wasn’t going to let someone out for blood over a stupid, ill-conceived, but probably harmless prank, undue the work I had just done saving these two stupid kids. Particularly after they had done much worse to me personally. Had they been off by even an inch, I would have an arrow through the back of my head instead of the opportunity to more than likely, save these two brats.

  A massive sword cut through the bramble thorn barrier, widening the hole I had made earlier. “I said, what are ya doin, ya stupid oaf!? My Guard be takin good care’a them knife ears ya know, no need ta…” Riggil’s words, his accent thicker from fear, were lost to me as the two-handed sword cut again, widening the passage to nearly double the size. At the angle I was at, I still couldn’t see the “half-giant.” I grimaced, whatever needed that large of a hole would probably dwarf me in size, something I was not used to and never was comfortable with.

  The elves might have been large enough to get into a lot of trouble, but they were clearly still kids, no matter what they looked like. The discontinuity with the elves bodies might have thrown off someone else, most people probably. It might have caused them to hesitate, or perhaps act even more harshly. But I knew better.

  When I was going through my undergrad I had worked in multiple homes for the developmentally disabled, people who had fully grown and sometimes very powerful bodies, but who were at heart and in mind only toddlers and children. The obvious immaturity of the elves compared to that didn’t phase me much. I had seen much worse discontinuity of mind and body before after all.

  “Guardsman!” boomed a loud bass voice filled with menace, the voice hit my ears like a hammer blow and was swiftly followed by a hulking man who had to be at least seven feet tall. I am no small person, even back home I was usually taller than most men at 6’1, and almost always broader of shoulder despite never really being very fit.

  In my new, more athletic form I was probably even more imposing. This guy? He made me feel like I was six years old standing in front of his father after having just made his mother cry by saying or doing something stupid. His hair was red, peppered with blond giving it the same look of a stereotypical Scottish man, but it grew past his shoulders. He wore furs and had a short cape that hung from his back, and in his hands, he held his massive sword, with a broad flat side as wide as both my arms. It was designed to cleave normal, sane sized human beings in two.

  “Guardsmen! Where are…” His voice cut off as he took in the scene, the two elf children on the ground, Ailsa floating around somewhere hopefully ready to ambush this slab of human meat and muscle, and me, standing between him and the kids, steel bared and sparking with, well sparking with sparks. That why I named the sword sparks after all. “The elves,” he said softly, almost to himself. His gaze shifted from the children to me “Step aside guardsmen. I will take the elvish with me for punishment.”

  I shook my head. “Not going to happen, big guy. I don’t know what they did to you, but no one touches them except me now. Got it?” We both stood there quietly for a moment assessing each other. Or, rather, him assessing how much of a threat I was, and me in shock and slightly paralyzed with terror. My mouth gets me into way too much trouble! I thought, I really need to learn to shut up and let things go instead of always trying to mix in! I knew better than that of course, I could and never, would never just let others have their way. If my oath bound me to protect life, it bound me to do so doubly for children.

  After a few tense seconds, the large man nodded and lunged at me with his sword leveled.

  “You have been attacked by Unknown Barbarian. Perry successful, damage 0.”

  I had brought Sparks up in time to divert the blade enough to avoid getting skewered and stepped to one side. My body reacted before I could even think about it, and I found myself leveling the blade and stabbing two handedly towards the large man's chest. I connected solidly, and sparks flew as if I had struck metal rather then his exposed flesh.

  “You have successfully struck Unknown Barbarian, Perry Unsuccessful. Damage 0 = 6 sword + 2 strength + 2 skill + 4 electric damage -40 damage reduction.”

  I had time to think one thought before I felt a mass as hard as stone slam into my face and darkness consumed me, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand I’m dead.”

  ----

  “You almost killed him!” came a shrill voice from somewhere very far away.

  “He fought bravely, but, not well.” Came a second, much deeper voice that sounded like drums in the deep. It had an odd quality to it, was that worry I heard?

  “Wait a minute. Are you worried about him?” The first voice asked. I couldn’t tell which response would have placated the first voice, it was a place every man knew to avoid and yet somehow, we all ended up there on a regular basis.

  Abort, abort, danger, danger Will Robinson, danger! I thought sluggishly and sardonically. Still having no context to what was going on around me, my brain was on little more than autopilot. I tried to give voice to my thoughts and warn my fellow brother-in-arms of the danger he had so foolishly walked into, but instead of my oh so clever quip, all I got out was a pathetic and tragic sounding groan, ending in a squeak of pain as everything rushed in at once.

  My sinuses were on fire, was sure I was weeping more than just tears, though I couldn’t see, I couldn’t even open my eyes. My skull felt like it had cracked in a million places and tiny rivers of burning acid ran along each of the cracks. The pain was the most intense thing I’d ever felt in my life.

  “You have been struck by Unknown Barbarian with Unarmed Strike. Damage 25 non-lethal. Penalty for doubling targets HP, damage turned to lethal, penalty reduction due to level by divisions of 5. 5 lethal damage (25/5 = 5). Status Effects: You are prone. You are stunned for 1 hour 15 minutes, 3:26 remaining. Internal decapitation, you are paralyzed indefinitely. Dislocated shoulder. Shattered eye socket right. Shattered eye socket, left. Deviated septum, indefinite. Unable to breathe, you are suffocating on your own blood. Internal bleeding, 1 lethal damage/minute. Complete sinus system collapse, you can not breathe through your nose, and never will again. Ruptured eye, right. Ruptured eye, left. You are blind indefinitely. Seek immediate medical attention.”

  I began to panic until the pain subsided slightly, and I could actually think. I realized I was holding my head in my hands, so I was no longer paralyzed. I minimized the damage window as the voices kept talking much more softly than before, and I read the windows that were hidden by the damage and status updates.

  “Ailsa used Moderate Stabilize 1, you are no longer bleeding internally.”

  “Ailsa used Moderate Heal, you have healed 7 points, current 10/10.”

  “Ailsa used Major Internal Adjustment 2, you are no longer paralyzed, all dislocations and their subsequent penalties have been removed.”

  “Ailsa used Mend Bone Greater 2, all bones in your body are now Mended.”

  Ailsa used Regrowth 2, you are no longer blind.”

  “Ailsa used Minor 1, Moderate 1, and Major Pain Relief 1, pain reduction is at 98%. -10 penalty to all physical actions requiring any level of coordination for the next 1 hour and 15 minutes, time remaining 1
4:19. Speech is slurred, thoughts are slowed, and judgment is compromised for the duration. It is suggested you do not operate heavy machinery or magic at this time.”

  I lay there as still as I could. Had I been able to I would have cried, probably more bitterly then the young elves had, but that was not something my body thought was a good idea, and I agreed. Ailsa has this in hand, I thought and allowed myself to drift back off into sleep.

  I woke up and the sun had shifted significantly, the forest around me seemed to be getting darker, and my head still ached badly. I could hear people shuffling around, and a soft rhythmic chopping sound coming from somewhere.

  After another few minutes, and some more hushed discussion by the voices around me, I began to feel much better. I tried opening one eye, and the light hurt, but no more then if I had just woken up from a nap. I blinked, and everything cleared. I moved my head slightly and while I was achy and bruised badly, there weren’t any shooting or stabbing pains as I had felt before.

  I looked around slowly and found myself in the center of a small clearing, I could see the blue, slightly darkening sky above me. The two elvish children were huddled together close to a small fire that had been dug a few feet away from where I lie, they looked asleep, or deep in some kind of meditation. I looked for Ailsa, and I couldn’t see her, what I did see was the large brute of a man chopping at the bramble wood with his sword, widening the hole I had made even further, it was almost the size of the horse and cart. Riggil stood just on the other side, walking and leading the clearly exhausted pony.

 

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