Book 2 Ch 42: Fishing Trip

Michael stoked the fire of their camp a bit as the light of the sun started to rise. He’d taken the last two watches since he needed less sleep than the others. The night had felt long for some reason. Lots of reminiscing about his family, friends, and his life before. It was the hardest when they were travelling and he wasn’t able to keep himself occupied. When they were in Southwind he could train, or run, or go into town for an early walk, or even find others who were having trouble sleeping and speak with them. On the road it was nothing but him and his thoughts. His prayers helped, as did the whispers of the gods, but they didn’t make the thoughts go away. That was for the best, though. The sadness, his thoughts of his family, anchored him. As often as they made him sad, they also made him happy and it was well worth the trade.

He stood and stretched, taking a sweeping look along the treeline. They had seen some signs of some kind of activity nearby. There were small fires, bones of tiny animals, and a number of leavings and broken twigs. Unfortunately since it was only Michael and the other Stent takers they didn’t have the expertise to identify exactly what it was, but they were being wary as they made their way toward the fishing village they’d been told of.

Pyotr was the first to wake, giving Michael a nod before stumbling a short way into the woods to relieve himself and then coming back to slam half a canteen of water and push back his unruly black hair.

“Good morning, brother,” he said, taking a seat next to him by the fire and nibbling on some salted fish he’d pulled from his pack. “How are you and your gods today?”

“I’m alright, the gods are… eager? There’s a kind of excitement to their words.”

Pyotr nodded. “I think they just like to talk to you. You’re their most special boy after all.”

“Emphasis on ‘special’,” said Ollie pulling himself from his tent. It was always comical watching him exit a tent, it was like watching a very long hermit crab pull itself out of its shell. He stretched, his hand brushing some of the leaves on the trees above them, then he muttered a few soft curses under his breath and his canteen floated out of the tent to him where he sipped from it.

“Your limbs are going to start atrophying at this rate,” said Michael.

“It’s for the best. We’ll use him as a rope, or a collapsible bridge to cross rivers with,” said Pyotr.

“You’d both do it if you could. Envy is a bad shade on you.”

Pyotr raised an eyebrow and muttered something in Russian, causing his own canteen to float to his lips as well. It wasn’t quite as steady, but he winked at Ollie as he took a sip.

“Fine, I’ll allow Pyotr the high ground. Michael, you can go fuck a crocodile.”

Michael laughed and shook his head.

It wasn’t much longer before Davi and Marcus woke up as well. Everyone took their time with breakfast and breaking down camp before they got back onto the road and started walking.

“The village I heard about should be just a few more hours away,” said Marcus, who’d been kind enough to gather the directions they needed for the trip. They’d only been on the road for two days, so that meant as long as they’d be able to get on the water that day they should be able to make their way back to Southwind before the week was up.

They walked for around an hour, finding several more signs of recent movement in the woods around them as they went. Eventually Marcus held up a hand.

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“Something’s nearby. Something small, and-”

“AHHHHHHH!” came a scream from the woods as what appeared to be a green toddler with an oversized head filled with rows of sharp teeth charged at them from the treeline holding a spiked club.

Pyotr barked a surprised yelp and kicked it in the head, his enhanced boots causing the kick to land with such force that the creature’s head snapped backward and it actually rolled as it flew into the trees behind it.

Nearly twenty more of the things ran at them shortly after, all of them holding knives that to them were like swords, or crude clubs, or even spears. Up until this point, Michael had encountered a Griffin, giant beasts, enemy soldiers, and rift creatures of all kinds, but there was something so uniquely terrifying about something so small moving so quickly and violently toward you with evil intent that it actually made him yell a bit as he drew his mace and struck out with it. It was like seeing a spider or a roach running toward you.