by Kyle West
When it got to be late afternoon, I realized the thick forest canopy would make it too dark to hunt or gather food in a couple of hours. Isaru seemed to be of a similar mindset, pulling to a stop in an inviting clearing next to a brook.
“This looks like a decent spot,” Isaru said. “See if you can hunt anything with that bow while I set up camp. I’ll see what kind of plants I can forage.”
It sounded like a plan, even if all I wanted to do was sleep. After we set our stuff down, I took my bow and quiver and headed upstream to see what I could find. I stayed within the trees; any potential game would hear me if I were splashing in the brook.
The early evening was thick with the sounds of birds and insects. The trees pressing around me made me feel completely isolated.
Isaru had been right; there was plenty of food around here, assuming one had the skills to get it. Several fat trout teemed in the water among some pinkish reeds. Not for the first time, I wished Isaru or I had packed a fishing pole. I thought about stopping right there to try my own luck when a welcome sight caught my eye.
A silver deer was lapping at the water about a hundred feet ahead, where the brook made a bend toward the right. I had literally been walking only ten minutes, and dinner was right here in front of me. Its ears flickered, and from its calm demeanor, it clearly had no idea I was watching.
I nocked an arrow to my bow, quiet as I could be. With the running water, I probably could have been much louder, but I didn't want to take any chances. I stood, slowly, drawing and aiming carefully. I emptied my mind until only Silence remained.
And then…there was a loud scratching noise coming from the tree right beside me. I instantly turned my bow upward to see a strange, quilled creature. It chortled, scratching its quills on the bark. In the silence of the forest, the sound was deafening.
The deer looked up and stiffened. It didn’t see me, but it heard that sound, and was spooked.
I redrew quickly, even while the spiked animal was making a racket. But it was too late. The deer turned and darted into the trees.
I wanted to scream. I switched my aim to the spiky critter and shot it dead. It fell out of the tree, landing on the ground with a thud.
It served him right, but I was still mad. It was definitely not as much meat, but it was certainly better than nothing. Now that it was out of the branches, it was easier to get a look. I didn’t know its name, but it was basically an oversized rat with quills, and once you got past all the spikes, it probably tasted like rat, too. I’d had rat before, and I didn’t really care for it.
Yet, maybe it wasn’t too late. I looked in the direction the deer had fled. It wasn’t likely that another animal was going to take my kill if I left it alone for an hour or so, even if a bear had done it to me already. Most animals were probably smart enough to not mess with a spiky rat.
I decided to take the risk, running in the direction the deer had gone. It wasn’t long before I’d reached the same spot the deer had stood on, and I followed its trail, taking note of broken branches and shifted undergrowth. Hoof prints were sometimes discernible in the dirt or xen – as for the latter, the prints wouldn’t last long, because xen was quick to retake its usual shape.
I followed the trail up the mountainside. It couldn’t have gotten far. The elevation went up, and as it did, the spread of trees began to thin. Soon, I found myself on top of a high ridge. The deer stood alone in a meadow downslope, where it was nibbling on some grass. I crouched low, simultaneously raising my bow again. I took hold of Silence, my vision and concentration sharpening. I didn’t wait any longer, releasing the arrow and watching it fly. It missed the deer by a hair, sticking into a tree trunk behind it.
The deer dashed into the trees once again. I ran downslope, cursing and drawing yet another arrow. I should have given up the chase then, but instead, I ran further into the trees. The deer was still in sight, but it was slipping away, much better able to navigate the forest than me. But I wasn’t going to give up. There would be enough meat in that deer to cook and pack away for a long time yet. I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste.
I lost the deer for a time, but caught sight of it again as I started going uphill. It seemed strange to me that the deer was running where there was less tree cover. If it had gone into the forest, I would have been hard-pressed to keep up. Such as it was, though, I counted myself lucky and followed it uphill. Once I reached the top of the ridge, the deer was entering the trees on the opposite side. Only now, it was walking.
Within minutes, it would be dead.
I ran downhill. All my previous fatigue was now gone. I didn’t really care how cute or majestic the animal was. All I could think about was how good it would taste roasted over a fire or in a stew.
I plunged back into the twisted trees, following its trail. All was quiet once again; even the birds had quieted, probably at my intrusion. I stood still, listening harder than I ever had before. When the usual sounds of the forest resumed, I stalked forward, keeping an eye out for my prey.
I slunk through the undergrowth with my bow at the ready. It would be hard to get a shot off in this tangled growth, but at least the trees would keep me hidden for some distance. Unfortunately, that applied to the deer as well.
I was beginning to lose hope when I pretty much stumbled right onto the deer – or perhaps it stumbled onto me. It saw me immediately, darting off in the opposite direction. For what seemed the thousandth time, I ran, only this time, I was determined to get the kill. The deer was tired, and maybe I was, too, but I needed the meat and didn’t want to have to fall back on the spiky rodent I had already killed.
I trailed the deer out of the forest and uphill, keeping pace with it. By sheer happenstance, I’d managed to drive it into a narrow gully, one which abruptly ended with the deer standing, isolated, on a mountainside with no trees for cover. It stood panting and exhausted after all the work I’d put it through.
I drew the arrow and aimed carefully, but it dashed off again downslope, disappearing behind a bluff.
I ran below the bluff, only to find a small cave leading into the mountainside. It was dark and deep, apparently carved out by a stream entering it from the snowmelt above. The deer must have been truly desperate to have gone into it.
There was nothing to do but to go into the cave itself and finish the job. Hopefully, it would be too scared to brave the darkness, or perhaps the cave wasn’t as deep as it looked from out here.
So, I walked downhill until I’d entered the cave’s dimness. It got dark rather quickly, especially since sunset was only an hour away. I was so close, though, and I was willing to do almost anything to get the kill.
I put the bow away, instead drawing my katana. I wouldn’t be able to aim in the darkness, anyway, and in such close quarters, the deer wouldn’t be able to sneak past me.
I paused to listen. Water dripped from somewhere in the distance. Judging from the way sound traveled, the cave seemed to be confined, but there was a chance that it opened up later on. There was no other sound, so I was beginning to think the deer had gone in quite deep.
It was just as that thought crossed my mind that something dashed right into me. It squealed, knocking me aside as the patter of hooves ran right over me. It hurt pretty bad, and I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t seem to be hurt.
I had time enough to grab one of the deer’s legs and held on for all I was worth. It let out another squeak, which sounded loud in the confines of the cave, tumbling to the ground in the process.
My blade was still out, and luckily I hadn’t harmed myself in the fall. I got on top of the deer and quickly ran the beast through. There was no time to think about making a clean kill, and I felt bad as it let out a pitiful squeal while giving a harsh spasm. I felt along its body, ignoring the hot blood pouring out of its side, until I found the neck. The deer gave no resistance as I cut its throat, which would allow it to die as fast as possible.
Blood still ran through my hands as I
stood up. A foul stench permeated the cave; apparently, my blade had entered its bowels.
I washed my blade such as I could in the narrow stream in the darkness. I sheathed my sword and walked to the other side of the deer, pulling on its front two legs as a way of testing its weight. Even if it wasn’t the largest deer, it was still far too heavy for me to move alone.
As much as I hated it, I would have to leave it here for a while and go get Isaru.
* * *
By the time we returned with our packs, it was full-on dusk. Isaru had fashioned a crude torch by wrapping a pliable, dead vine and tying it off to a stick, which he actually got to light outside the cave once we had started our usual fire. With torch in hand, we went back into the cave.
I half-expected the deer to be gone. If there were a bear, or a mountain lion, this cave would make an attractive shelter. However, we found the deer just where we had left it. The only difference was that the smell was far worse.
Isaru set the torch down on the rock, and it kept burning for us while we hauled the kill toward the cave mouth. Going out took a lot longer than going in, but by the time all was done, the deer lay not too far from our fire. Isaru went back for the torch while I waited. Once he returned, we stared at the deer for a moment, as if unbelieving that it was actually there.
I wasn’t sure where to start, but I borrowed Isaru’s ichor knife to cut the beast open. It wasn’t a task I relished, but it had to be done. Thankfully, there was a stream not too far we could wash off in once the butchery was done, but for now, we’d have to get our hands dirty. First, we discarded all the nasty bits – the guts, the organs, pretty much anything that wasn’t meat, as far downslope as we could.
We threw more wood onto the fire – thankfully, Isaru was able to grab it from a nearby copse while I kept butchering the animal, and before long, we had enough fire to work and cook with through the night. We really had no way to hang the kill up, which would have made things far easier, so the best we could do was lay it on the ground and cut open its belly. I’d already made a mess of things by killing it with the stab wound that went straight through its guts out of its right flank. It wouldn’t be easy work, especially given how dark it was, but it was necessary work. Once this was done, we’d have a lot of meat – enough for stews for at least two weeks yet, before the cooked meat itself started to go bad.
I steeled myself before kneeling down and getting back to work. Getting the skin off was rather difficult, with the beast just lying on the ground as it was. The best we could do was get it out of the way while I cut with Isaru’s knife, which had no problem cleanly separating meat from bone.
As soon as the meat was ready, Isaru skewered it and set it over the high flames, and what was left over was boiled in our pot.
We next did the ribs, followed by each of the limbs, adding to what was becoming an absurdly large pile of raw meat. Still, we continued, long into the night, flipping the deer over to butcher along its spine and hindquarters.
It was absolutely disgusting, but at the same time, I was able to see it as a task while Isaru just seemed to be paler than he usually was. It wasn’t exactly princely work, but at least he helped.
The moon was high by the time we’d done pretty much everything we could. We dragged the carcass off as far as we could, letting nature have the rest. Once we returned to the fire after washing off as best as we could in the small stream, Isaru looked at the pile of meat doubtfully. Cooking everything would be an enormous task, and it wouldn’t be done until well into the morning, if not longer. But we wouldn’t have to worry about food for a while. It was definitely enough to get us to Northold, where we could resupply. As isolated as the Northern Wild was, people still lived there.
We ate venison stew while continuing to cook, often burning it in the process. As the meat finished, we let it cool before putting it in our packs. It probably wouldn’t be very tasty after a few days, but it would still be edible once recooked.
We were only finished long after the sun came up. We packed as much meat as we could carry into the packs, and there was still some left over. We ate what we could of that, until it felt as if I would burst. The rest we were forced to leave behind for whatever animals were interested.
We didn’t get too far into the forest in the valley before dropping our packs and setting up camp. We needed a long break, so we decided to sleep through the day and night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
WHEN I AWOKE, IT WAS evening. I was still full from all I’d eaten earlier, and Isaru was already up and stoking a large fire. The air was thin and cool, and it promised to be cold later on. Thick gray clouds covered the sky, a sight I hadn’t seen in weeks. Despite sleeping through the entire day, I was still groggy and felt as if I could use more. I had another night of sleep to look forward to.
We made a stew out of some of the fattier bits of venison and ate in silence. After we cleaned up with water from the stream, we found ourselves in a curious situation where there was nothing to do. I didn’t want to sleep – at least, not yet. Isaru took to sharpening his knife with a whetstone, something I had yet to see him do, which was surprising considering how little the knife seemed to need it.
“No point in doing this,” Isaru said. “The blade’s wearing down the stone…”
I looked at it, curious. It was natural for a whetstone to wear down over time, but I could see what Isaru meant. The blade had made an indentation in the stone after just a few strokes.
“I wonder what ichor does to blades to make them so sharp,” I said. “Why is it the Avekai remember how to do it, but not the Elekai at large?”
“Ichor has a way of conforming to any material, manipulating its smallest components. That is, if you know how to teach the ichor to do this. Some methods of using ichor are remembered, but many are forgotten.” Isaru looked at the knife. “The Avekai may seem as if they don’t have much technology, but they have remembered things that the Annajen haven’t. As to why, I cannot say. Many things requiring ichor need the crafter to have a strong connection to the Xenofold, which is not often found among the Three Tribes. As such, a lot of things are remembered among Wilders that are forgotten among the Tribes. Getting xen to glow in a lamp is fairly easy in comparison. Directing the growth of trees and plants – the Gift of Agronomy – is difficult for most, but only years of experience can get people working together to make something like Haven, and even that takes many decades.” Isaru considered. “In fact, I don’t know if there is enough strength these days for anyone to grow something like Haven again. It makes me wonder if even more will be forgotten and lost.”
“The Xenofold is weakening,” I said.
Isaru gave a nod. “The Xenofold itself is weakening, and the ability to connect to it has been slowly dying in the Elekai for generations. Your dreams of Hyperborea are also evidence of that.”
It all started happening around the time of Hyperborea. The ichor was no longer there to sustain the Xenofold, which had the additional effect of causing reversions and the Mindless. And as time wore on, it would only get worse.
It was yet another reminder of why we were doing this. Yes, we were going to Hyperborea to find the Prophecy in order to save my parents. But while there, we might also discover a way to bring the Sea back…if such a thing were possible.
Anna had returned for a reason, even if she had returned with me. And something of the Sea had to remain for me to exist.
I realized I was thinking of her as another person, and not that she was actually me. I still couldn’t accept it. Just the thought that my parents weren’t my true parents, or the thought that I had come from the Sea of Creation directly, was all just too much.
My mother’s words came back to me, at that moment: Even when we found you there, lying in the xen, you were mine. I had only to look at you.
No. They were my parents, because I thought of them as such. That was all that mattered.
I lay down early, turning my back to Isaru so that he wouldn�
��t see me crying.
* * *
Isaru and I were up before the sun. We put on our packs and set off. The heaviness was welcome, and though I was still tired and sore, I felt much better after all the sleep I’d gotten yesterday.
It was energy that I needed, because within the hour we were fighting our way through the thick trees until we reached a wide stream flowing west, which we followed.
“I’d say we are firmly in the Wild, now,” Isaru said, once we took a break for lunch. “If we continue past these mountains, we should come upon the Northern Forest. Northold is on its eastern fringe.”
“Have you been there before?”
Isaru shook his head. “I know it’s the largest settlement in the Northern Wild, but even so, it’s nothing more than a small town compared to other cities. Like most northern settlements, it’s built mostly of wood and had a palisade to protect it from Mindless attacks.”
“Are those common?”
“It’s rare that Northold itself is attacked. It’s more likely that fringe settlements are targeted, of which there are fewer every year.”
“How do we find our way there, then?”
“I’m hoping we can veer enough south to come upon the Pilgrimage Road. Though old and little-used, it should be clear enough to follow to town. After resupplying in Northold, there will be no more settlements. It’s a straight shot west though a mixture of plains, hills, and forests, until the Withering Waste…a strange patchwork of swamp and dryland. Then, the Red Mountains, the Plains of Decay, and then at last…Ragnarok Crater.”
“Why is it called the Pilgrimage Road?” I asked. “It seems a strange name.”
“It’s rooted in history. Even today, it connects all the major Elekai cities, starting from Sylva in the south in the Novan Wild, all the way to Northold itself. The road once went east from Northold to Hyperborea, but from what I’ve read, that road hasn’t existed for a long time, having been reclaimed by the Wild during the Mindless Wars.”