Chapter 29: Flee |
We have categorized hundreds of common and uncommon creatures across the world, but there are always surprises. Sometimes even within our midst.
Lenn Braun, Chief Traveler of the Explorer’s Guild
Solomon stood still as he watched a long ungainly limb reach out from the edge of the forest. The limb ended in a large gray hand that reached out with long, triple-jointed fingers, and wrapped them around Mayor Neiman’s body. It easily lifted it, and dragged it toward the treeline. Solomon peered at the edge of the wood and caught only the slightest glimpse of something with a body the same color as the trees around it and eyes that glowed bright white.
Next to the thing in the trees were a number of figures clad in white. He couldn’t discern exactly what they were, but felt that they were distinctly feminine, the white garments they wore seemed to move like mist being blown around by the wind even though he couldn’t feel even the slightest breeze.
Solomon moved in front of the still dazed trapper and raised up his walking stick defensively as he moved his other hand through the starting gestures of a Light spell.
The creature regarded him for a moment, and his head began to pound as if he was experiencing a terrible headache. He focused on his hand holding the walking stick, holding the image in his mind with as much detail and clarity as he could while reinforcing the image with his mana, as he’d been practicing non-stop since he gained mana. The pounding grew more intense, until it felt like one of the rusted picks littering the ground was being driven into his skull, but he kept his focus on his Mental Fortification spell.
The pain ceased suddenly, and Solomon actually stumbled a bit, as if he'd been pulling on something and the other party suddenly let go. The creature continued to look at him for a few moments, then a mouth seemed to appear with the same hollow whiteness of the creature's eyes. It screamed.
Solomon closed his eyes and unleashed a fully powered light spell in the creature's direction. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, but he felt he needed to take the initiative. When he opened his eyes the creature seemed to have vanished along with Neiman and its white uniformed attendants. He turned to the trapper who seemed to be blinded.
“Here, lean on me,” he said as he grabbed the man's arm and put it over his shoulder. He kept his other hand free, moving it through half of the gesture for spark as he began to move down the main path. He kept his eyes scanning the forest as he moved. He could still feel something watching him.
He moved through the side path quickly, keeping himself at the ready. He felt another headache begin and focused on the mental image of the piece of manarite ore he’d picked up earlier, maintaining it all the way through the side trail. Once he was back on the main path the headache cleared and they made it another fifteen minutes with no problems. Solomon wasn’t sure if the creature was still nearby, but he kept his guard up, especially when walking down any of the other side trails. He was glad he’d paid close attention during the trek.
As they neared the initial entrance to the path, Solomon didn’t speed up, opting instead to stay as alert as possible. It would be too easy to drop his guard in a mad sprint and wind up dead. Colm was holding up well, he was panting, but otherwise had barely broken a sweat. Solomon on the other hand could feel his shirt clinging to him, his muscles roaring at him, and his breathing was ragged.
There was one more side path they needed to take to get around an area where the path had flooded. Solomon kept spark prepared and preemptively began to cast mental fortification as he entered the path. He kept Colm up on his left arm so that he would be closer to the main path. He had nearly exited back onto the main path when he heard a sudden noise behind him.
He turned to face it, a clawed hand whipped out and raked him across the side, cutting him deeply. At the same time he released a spark backed with all of the mana he had available. The blast of heat and flame scorched the hand that had swung toward him and he heard another unholy shriek from the creature as he watched the hand withdraw.
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He grimaced in pain, forcing himself to keep moving even as he infused his blood with mana and clotted it with blood control. Immediately after that he cast another light spell behind himself without looking back. It wasn’t as powerful as mana was still actively flowing into him, but he knew it struck true when he heard another scream from the creature behind him.
He made it back onto the main path and kept moving as quickly as he could. His head was spinning and light, feeling as if it may simply float away from him. He kept moving though, keeping Colm right alongside him until they reached the end of the path.
Solomon looked around and saw Duncan and the carriage waiting for him, the smell of tobacco thick in the air.
The old driver got off the driver’s seat and showed surprising spryness as he moved toward them.
“That looks bad, lord.” he said as he took some of the weight off of him.
“It is. Please, get us to the physician. I don’t know his address, but one of the guards should.”
“Yes, lord,” replied Duncan simply, helping him and Colm into the carriage.
Solomon made sure that the still dazed Colm was settled before leaning back and wincing as the full pain of his wounds seemed to hit him. He sat back and looked at the torn fabric and blood across his side. The wound wasn’t too deep. He guessed he would survive, but it would likely need to be stitched and leave a terrible scar.
He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing as he tried to move his thoughts away from the pain. He immediately gathered a number of questions that he would need to answer. What was that creature? What was its connection to the mayor? What were the figures in white with it? Why hadn’t it simply killed him?
That last question hung particularly heavy in his mind. Whatever it was could blend into the forest, attack quickly, and had the strength to lift a large man with only one hand. In spite of that it hadn’t attacked him directly. It had started by probing his mind, for what, he was unsure, but it had attempted to do so a half-dozen times. Even when it did attempt a full attack it did so from the shadows, as if it was testing him. Was it unsure of his strength after he cast his spell on Neiman? Or perhaps when he resisted its initial push against his mind? The creature hadn’t had a glow of mana, but perhaps it had a way of hiding its mana. It could camouflage itself in the woods so it would make sense if it could hide itself in other ways.
Solomon pondered all of this, managing to push the pain to the side until they arrived at the physicians home. Duncan helped him and Colm to the door which was answered by a young lady with light hair. She looked at them all, quickly assessing the situation.
“Let me get father. Please take them into that room there,” she pointed even as she turned and ran up the stairs.
Duncan helped them into the room, which seemed to be a parlor that had been converted into a place for medical treatment. There were a number of bottles filled with tinctures and poultices as well as sets of clean sharp knives and thin bundled twine. The house itself was older, but well kept.
A few moments later Doctor Isaacs arrived with his sleeves already rolled up and his spectacles on. The young lady that had opened the door was right behind him. He approached Solomon first.
He shook his head, pointing to Colm. “Check him first. He took a blow to the back of the head.”
Isaacs nodded and moved toward Colm. “Irma, help Lord Morrow remove his jacket and cut away his shirt.”
She nodded, moving quickly to grab some scissors before approaching him. Solomon winced as he moved his arms to remove the jacket and let out a small grunt when she cut off and removed his shirt. A large chunk of the blood he’d clotted came out along with it, causing some of the bleeding to resume.
Irma quickly moved to grab a bottle of clear liquid and a piece of rope. She returned to him and put the rope in front of his face. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Bite down,” she said.
He complied.
She opened the bottle of liquid and Solomon immediately smelled alcohol as she poured it liberally over his wounds causing him to bite down on the rope hard enough to hear the fibers of it strain. Immediately after she wiped away the blood and began holding a large bandage over his wounds as she turned to Isaacs.
“He’ll need stitches. Wounds aren’t lethal though.”
Isaacs nodded as he stitched the wound in the back of Colm’s head.
Solomon carefully removed the rope from his mouth.
“How is he?”
“It’s bad, but not lethal. He’ll need a lot of rest.” He pulled a stitch tight and cut it with some scissor before mixing a few liquids and prompting the trapper to drink it. He did, and the doctor gently laid him down before turning to Solomon.
Irma removed her hands and the bandage and Isaacs slid a sharp needle into his skin to begin the stitching.
“You’re both very lucky. For some reason, neither of you lost much blood.”
“I’m feeling very lucky,” replied Solomon stonefaced as the thread was pulled through his skin.
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure. Something attacked us. It was all a bit of a blur. All I can really remember is trying to get back to Moonfallow.”
Solomon didn’t want to risk drawing more attention than he needed to. If he outright said what had attacked him, the Union would definitely send a blue boot. No, he needed to determine if he could solve the problem himself first. If he couldn’t, then he’d risk the Union.
