Going Feet First Ch. 05

Keeping close to the river High, he had been following the scent left in the path Galen had walked. It was faint at this point but it was there, and it was coupled with the scent of two others: one Farok did not recognize and the heartening grace to his nose that was Petra's essence. All the motivation he needed was in that lingering redolence for it meant she was alive to leave it behind.

Finished with what was left of his meal, Farok tossed the stripped bones aside and wiped his greasy hand off on his cloak. No more than three breaths passed his lungs afterward before the buzz in the air shifted. A wave of energy pulsed through the woods, kicking up dead leaves and causing Farok to turn on a dime as something came in overhead.

A gush of wind whipped through the trees with a roar not entirely unlike that of the beast upon which Galen rode into Atzla. What he thought to be the sound of a hundred axes chopping at a tree in rapid succession roared in the air above him, though once he tuned his ears in to hear the screams, he shifted his attention to the metal monster coming in over his head.

It was whipping its tail around in a circle as it plummeted, the chopping sound dying down as it started to whine with agony. Screaming humans aboard held on to black ropes as they did their best to not get thrown out from its open belly. Something boomed then, thundering with the same bang as Galen's weapon. By pure instinct the hunt Commander knelt into a low couch with one hand firmly planted the hilt of his sword now half-way out of its sheathe. Then that sharp crack thundered again, the miserable whine cutting off immediately as the chopping noise picked up in its place.

Tree branches cracked en mass as whatever beast this was collided with the tree tops. Leaves and bits of broken branches rained down onto Farok's head as it swept the tree bows directly over him. One branch clipped his ear to make him flinch and sneer with a growl rumbling in his throat. He raised his arms over his head to shield himself until the shower of branches finished. When the last of the debris hit the ground, he pushed his blade back into its scabbard and pushed off on one of his knees to stand up.

Still hearing the metal monster power-grooming the forest canopy, he brushed off his cloak and ran in pursuit of it, internally questioning, More of his kind?

All the earth beneath his feet then shook as a tree trunk snapped and that beast slammed into the ground with a crack of snapping steel and shattering glass. Several trees toppled over onto the wreck, two coming down onto the crashed beast to bring one last squeal from it as its metal body twisted under the fallen timber.

Farok gave a breathless chuckle at the crash but retained his harsh scowl, Humans and their metal beasts... cannot stay in the sky, can they?

Coming up onto the wreck, Farok took a good look at the beast that now lay dead before him in a bed of shredded forest. The long tail of the creature had been torn off and sent rolling several paces past its corpse, the blades on its end still spinning.

Shattered glass and mangled metal plating littered the area to make an approach with bare feet like Farok's a difficult idea. Though there were the trees that had fallen around the beast, and a sight that truly caught the Neko's eye. A thunder-ripper exactly like what Michael had used to defend the Willher village hung off the side of the monster on some kind of mount.

Quirking his mouth while frowning at the weapon, Farok entertained a new idea as he mentally muttered, More weapons could be inside its belly with the humans, perhaps even intact...

"Fucking Hell," a weak voice coughed, bringing the ex-Hunt Commander to alert.

One survived?

The golden Neko didn't delay for a second. He skipped over a patch of the glass shards and leapt onto one of the trees lying down on the "chopper," as Farok nicknamed it. With his feline agility he bolted up the rough, rounded surface of the tree and pounced onto the body of the chopper over its open belly.

Inside, lying on his back in a seat beside the thunder ripper, was another human. Breathing, wounded, dressed in a uniform similar in design to Galen's, though it was well worn and lacked both sleeves over his arms. The human himself seemed less child-like than Galen as well, and in several ways had an air about him like Michael, though on his tongue Farok could taste something fiercely different about this human. Whatever the difference may be, the Neko couldn't tell without speaking to him. If the man's wound would even allow him enough consciousness to hold a conversation.

His chest was wrapped in a bandage and smothered in dressings. His breathing was harsh and forced, and blood stained his face around his mouth. Yet he still lived with enough life in him to keep a white-knuckled grip on the weapon in his hands, one that was unlike any the Neko had seen Michael wield.

Right then the human's eyes peeked open to fix on Farok. He seemed dazed at that moment, as he well should be, and immediately coughed out another round of blood before his head lolled off to the side. That grip he held on his weapon faded and it slid down the side of his belly.

"Don't let me die here..." he gasped. "I fought... too hard... too damn long... to die now."

The Hunt Commander stared at the wounded human, his claws leaving his fingers as he looked toward the river High. Every moment wasted was one more moment Petra was out there with Galen, under his will and command. And every moment wasted was one more they were slipping farther and farther away. Perhaps if they stopped in Redding he could track them down in the city, but he couldn't trust his senses if the trail was left for too long as the forest would soon cover and consume it.

But even if he left this human to die as he pursued his assassin, would he even catch up to her? Should Galen go south to the mountains, he would be going into territory unknown to the Ra'zorlichs. But then the territory would be unknown to him as well... he would need to prepare. Ready himself... Redding is already a supposed vast sea of human civilization. He could spend a month there preparing for a journey south. Or he could decide to settle within the walls with his own kind.

It was his wish to see his assassin freed that had him conflicted in this decision. Should he save the human before him now, he would be turning his back on the one he had left to a most futile cause. He would need to take him to the Willhers and Michael for healing across a stretch of deep forest. If he would even survive the trip there...

Or perhaps the Willhers would have to come here. They did have roaming healers, and Michael would likely come to secure the weapons of his world...

And it was not too wild of an idea for Farok to believe that he could take one for himself... Talk Michael into teaching him how to operate it if he could not figure it out himself. The Neko would take every advantage he could in his quest...

Gritting his teeth, Farok looked to the human, preparing to reach into his satchel. But then the wounded warrior had shut his eyes, his breath choked up with blood.

"Were I to encounter you before this day, I would have snuffed you out, human," the Neko growled as he dropped down onto the steel plating behind his seat and rolled the human onto his right side. Pain arced across his face, but the crimson fluid built in his throat poured out his mouth and cleared his airway enough for him to breathe.

Why do they kill themselves riding in beasts that cannot stay in the air? he wondered as he stood up.

He looked to the pair of men hanging limp in their seats at the front of the creature, the one on the right's back bent at an odd angle. Holding his question in his mind to save for Michael, Farok began to climb back out of the belly of the beast, though he stopped mid-way out and looked to the weapon still in the unconscious survivor's hands.

When Farok finally left the crash site, travelling east, upriver, the cumbersome piece of steel was hiding underneath his cloak.

.............

Hairs pricked up at the back of Galen's neck from the tension in the room. Standing at attention in front of the door of the Commandant's study, the Private remained silent as he stared at Necela. The goddess had a graceful smile to her as she sat with her head resting on her knees and sitting against the tree in the middle of the room.

A dim blue light came off of the ashen skin of her Drow form, just enough for the Private to see around the pitch black of the study. Those dazzling, solid blue eyes of hers remained fixed upon him in the most comforting way, but they were still not enough to allow him to completely relax as both Jrastra and Dreek conversed in silent tongue on the other side of the tree. But where the wordless conversing of the two Drow intimidated the human, the Goddess was far less concerned.

From the moment she first met with the "First Commandant" of the Sun-Kissed, Necela had felt the influence Jrastra pressed upon all in her presence. The level of Empathy she possessed was indeed impressive to the Goddess, no doubt capable of overpowering the strongest of hearts should she refine herself beyond what she already has. Yet even with her show of power, the Goddess of Life needed only to place a moderate barrier around her mind to keep it out. When this barrier was toyed with, she pulsed with a wave of magic that forced back the Empath's influence just enough to assert her own dominance and make the Drow understand.

Of course, Jrastra had tried to reach out to Galen then for some purpose, only to find herself for the second time shut out by the Deity. It was that move that made the Commandant uneasy in her new guest's presence, and after which she and Dreek excused themselves behind the tree to speak silently.

No doubt to plan some scheme to move Necela out of the way. From what the Goddess had read from Dreek's thoughts earlier, they considered her a threat to their ends. It was of no interest to hers to disrupt such plans, but one could not expect a Drow to trust her to her word and her word alone.

She would just have to figure out how to earn their trust. Or place them in position in which they had no choice.

Silver dust spawned from Necela's finger tips as she rubbed them against her thumb, her palm soon glittering with the powder. With the flick of her wrist she tossed the handful of enchanted glitter behind her against the tree on which she leaned.

The reaction from the Commandants was instantaneous, their focus shifting to the walls as the flow of magic in the stone shifted in a way similar to what had occurred after the pulse. Even Galen wavered in his stance and looked down at his now-glowing, tattooed arm with a puzzled look before glancing toward Necela. Still smiling in her sweet way, she snapped her fingers.

The tree at her back began to change, starting with the branches that broke apart and crumbled into silver dust. Leaves withered and turned to smoke and a circular ring of blue encompassed the trunk at waist height before a second ring split off and darted upward, evaporating the trunk and leaving nothing but a stump behind.

Giggling at the awe on Dreek's face and assertive stance taken by Jrastra, Necela stood up and faced the tree stump. In a broad sweep, she casted her hand over the remnants of the tree to sprinkle more of her silver dust down. The top of the stump began to broaden and stretch out to become a table-like surface. Roots then sprouted out from the floor on four sides and morphed to take on the shape of stools.

With one last sprinkle of her enchanted essence, Necela summoned a single branch to grow beside the table. In only a few counts did the branch suddenly curl over with the weight of freshly grown apples of a rich red color. All of them ripe for the picking.

Holding her head high, the Goddess kept her movements elegant and deliberate as she took her seat. Without breaking composure she plucked one apple and took a bite while staring directly at Jrastra.

"Well, that's cool," Galen commented.

After swallowing what she had in her mouth, Necela said nonchalantly, "I do hope you two do not mind this change, Commandants. Sitting on a floor against a tree was quite uncomfortable and I thought this would be more suitable for our discussion."

She motioned to the stools opposite the table from her, "Please, sit."

Jrastra ducked her head slightly and squared her shoulders while curling her toes inside her armored boot. It was taking more concentration than she normally bothered with to keep her Empathy from revealing the nerves running through her chest, and this effort was not something she wished to exert today. But she could not afford to lose a single step at any point with this woman, especially in front of the surfacer she needed to keep unquestioning under her command.

At Jrastra's side, face placid, Dreek kept her hands planted on her hips above her blades, eyes moving between Necela and the seat she offered. Galen did not seem intimidated beyond the slight show of worry in his eyes, nor did Dreek see him show signs of concern for her safety when she doubted he would let her come to harm.

Then again, with Zer'tath's influence, she was unsure if even her human could be trusted any longer. If the spirit corrupted his thoughts or twisted him against the Sun-Kissed, he would need to be culled. Though on the flip side of this coin, she did not want to go hunting again and waste even more time when this unexpected surprise showed so much promise, and especially not when their best chance had finally presented itself at last.

Not wanting to lose what control or authoritative figure she or Jrastra may yet hold over this walking well of power, Dreek glanced to her superior, who peered back at her through the corner of her eye. Having the first Commandant's attention, Dreek pointed with her eyes towards the back of the room where their desks were. Jrastra responded with the ever slightest hint of a nod.

The two Drow both turned on their heels and moved to their desks and the arm chairs behind them. When she settled into the padded, high-backed seat, Dreek leaned forward onto her desk, coupling her hands together and holding them before her face with an inquisitive look. Jrastra crossed one leg over the other, leaning down on her right arm and seemingly beginning to relax.

Never losing her graceful smile for a moment, Necela nodded and gripped the apple in her hand. The fruit instantly turned to ash and crumpled into oblivion. She pulled both her hands into her lap and adjusted herself to get more comfortable in her seat. Just as it seemed Jrastra was about to pose a question, the goddess spoke.

"Galen stays with you until the deal you've struck with him is complete," she stated bluntly.

The statement made a frown arch down over Jrastra's eyes. "I have not yet spoken, Crystal."

In the background, Galen quirked an eyebrow as he heard Necela's Drow name "Zer'tath" at the end of the sentence.

"But there is no need for you to waste breath, Commandant. I know what concerns you, and I will assure you these suspicions you have about my presence are misplaced. I wish to see Galen prosper under your training, and for your war with Redding to end."

"Why?" Dreek challenged.

Looking up to the ceiling, stroking her long, pointed, elven ear, Necela answered, "Because more than just Drow suffer because of this war. I will see it end."

"And if we will not have your presence among us?" Jrastra probed. "If we continue our training with the surfacer without you?"

"You can't," Necela said with a shrug. "Nothing you do will rid me. No blade nor spell can. You can ignore my presence, however, and see to it your sisters do the same. I will help Galen in his training, and assist the Sun-Kissed where I feel you could benefit from it."

Unconsciously, Jrastra clenched her left hand and drew it closer to her belly while leaning more heavily onto the arm of her chair. Her venomous, red eyes narrowed on Necela's face, gauging her while she, by pure habit, reached out to her with her empathy. Only when she encountered the deity's barrier did she realize the futile attempt she had made for the second time. Only then something changed.

Giving a simple nod, the defense around Necela's emotions fell and the moment Jrastra realized they had, the disguised Goddess stated with all seriousness, "You may hold me to my word, Commandant. I will help you."

Jrastra blinked as her ability felt its way through the heart of the woman before her. Her Empathy was her tool in sorting out lie from truth, as one's heart could not hide either. No creature she encountered, whether it was Human, Nekonian, Dwarven, or Elven, could hide a lie once her empathy connected. And as it stood at this very moment, she could feel nothing but truth from the power before her.

"Jrastra?" Dreek called.

"You are either very brave, or too powerful to care when you let me in, Crystal," the first Commandant started, tilting her head back and truly showing herself to relax while pausing a few moments to think.

Her eyes shifted to Galen as her empathy dug deeper. The barrier around Dreek's pet was still in place, though he did not seem to sense her probing at it. Meaning it was an act of Crystal that kept him protected from her power.

Noticing Jrastra focusing so intently on him, Galen grinned and stood up a little straighter to press his neck right into the back of his collar. In turn, Jrastra smirked herself.

"...I will trust you to keep your watch over Galen, and to not interfere with the plans Dreek has made. But know that in all matters to which he pertains, in all actions he is to take while under our command, her word is final."

Without another word, Necela nodded. "We are agreed."

The third Commandant had to mask her surprise as Jrastra's words met her ear. One of the most powerful leaders of the Drow Empire had come to terms without changing them. Even handing authority over the arrangement unto herself with Zer'tath accepting it without any reaction.

Alarms in Dreek's mind were going off as her instincts warned against such a simple dealing. For it was just that, simple. No strings, few conditions, it was far too plain when such weight bore down on either side of the scale between the two great powers.

If everything was as it seemed to be, then there was no doubt of the near-limitless potential of the alliance with this being. How she could be persuaded to find ways to augment and enhance the capabilities of the magic users within the Sun-Kissed or refine the bodies of those lacking any arcane talent?

Galen was supposedly already in her sights to be improved upon, and if she could not extend the courtesy to the Drow, then a certain Commandant could attempt to replicate any magic she used...

"What's wrong, Commandant?" Zer'tath asked, making Dreek frown.

Quirking her mouth to the side, eyes narrowing as she quickly glanced to Galen still standing patiently by the door, she responded, "What do you know of body enchantments?"

"Body enchantments?" she repeated.

"Augmenting the body with magic, to gift it with a new power. Galen spoke of having such a thing done to him by other... more powerful beings before. I aim to recreate the process with your assistance in ensuring his well-being."

Fighting very hard to hold in a giggle, Necela responded, "I am sure you would not need my help in your method if you do not seem worried about him using it."