A week has passed for the two ships on their new journey.
Decided to not go any further into hostile water, they backed track 50 km to the west. The contract only said to head east for exploration but since they still have a lot of food in storage, a renegotiation was settled. Teroku agreed to pay another 10% but their direction this time is north. In case they finished their northern expedition early, their next assignment will be making a detour to the west before going south returning to Teroku.
Reflecting on the first armed conflict in the New World, command of the two ships decided to conduct on-board training. The ogre of that time was a force to be reckoning. Its large stature plus its weapon introduced a dangerous reach. Its skin was impervious to their standard weapons. It was fast, agile, able to move and attack while the ships were shaking under bombardment. Such lethal opponent can not be handled by normal soldiers. Thus, practice was needed to buy these soldiers time, time for adequate reinforcements to arrive.
Talking about the Ogre, Terokenes on the groveship were a bit unnerved after hearing tales from their survived comrades but the firepower of the two ships projected such a positive image, it blasted their fear to oblivion. There was admiration for Deckmaster Beherzt, the only one who put up a decent fight against the Ogre. Their fellow soldiers on the groveship got an extra piece of information from the elven crew. Apparently, their shipmaster, Dimithil, is on par with Deckmaster Beherzt. Even if they run into an ogre, the groveship has no problem dealing with it in melee.
To John’s notice, the morale was particularly high on the elven ship. The casualties on the dwarven vessel seemed to have triggered some responses from the elven crew. John would write down on his note “they were enraged”. It can be traced back to a conversation in the crew quarter that he overheard. The sailors were discussing the barbaric behaviors of the ogre on the runeship. As it turned out, the elves and the dwarves operated on strict international rules back in their world which were still enforced. What happened on the dwarven ship can be considered as stabbing ambassadors in a diplomatic talk.
One of John’s fellow soldiers commented that the dwarves were unprepared. That infuriated the elves. Luckily, the Terokenes were fast to apologize preventing it from escalating any further. “That was quite the reaction.” John put on his note. The world of Teroku also has elves and dwarves. Those races are not exactly hostile to each other but prefer to keep thing to themselves.
John recalled an elven sailor chastised during that shouting. If it were on their ship, they would have lost some men in the same fashion. From that statement alone, John knew their relation was better than he expected. If these crew members were elves from his world, they would say the loss was regrettable “but” there will be one or two aspects they themselves would do better. It’s being polite yet still expresses their national pride. Never would he have guessed the elves would put themselves in the same shoes as the dwarves.
That little conversation pipped John’s interest. Ever since the start of their journey, he has already hooked up with various elves on board. There should be no problem to start a chat with some of them then steer the talk into the direction he wanted. At least, that was his initial thought.
It has been 3 days. So far, the replies did not satisfy him. He wanted the elves to tell him more about their history with the dwarves but what he was told was brief. He felt confused. Was the matter so trivial it did not deserve the long answer or because they were looking out for him? Perhaps they found him not familiar enough to share the story. John shook his head in discomfort. At the bare minimum, he knew their alliance dated back to ancient time. However, alliance is not eternal, and time is corrosive. Being allies with a long history does not mean there won’t be bickering and rivalry. That was how his world works. John could not bring himself to satisfy with that explanation. How could two kinds of people form such a strong bond by just being allies? If such thing was real, his world would be at peace.
If it were on their ship, they would have lost some men in the same fashion. The words of that elf kept ringing in his mind. They were more like dormitory mates than allies to him. That emotion outburst made it clear the elves saw their dwarven friends as if they were also elves. Meeting a dead end, John gave in. He dragged the curiosity that were messing in his mind and dumped it in his imaginary trash bin for good.
Sitting on his desk, John opened his diary.
“Anyway, the crew members were vigorous with their practice. I hardly believe it was just training. Especially when they did a full swing of their glaive at their own superior. Even charging at him while he was down. Even my countrymen were roused up in some ways.
I observed the shipmaster during the training. He surely is “not the stereotype” as shipmaster Borag remarked. He got strength. He got skills. Certainly more intimidating than the Ogre. The crew were divided into groups to keep the ship operational during the sections but the shipmaster took no break. He had no problem kicking the early groups around. His stamina is astonishing. At last, it was not limitless. By the 8th group, they were able to pin him down at least 1 out of 5 attempts. The thing is even the Chief of staff and other senior officers joined these sections as commanders for the participating groups. Dimithil not only had to deal with the normal soldiers but also these officers.
Thanks to these training sections, I realized how strong these otherworlders are. They won’t lose any 1-on-1 match up against soldiers of our world. Not seeing with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe how fast those glaives can be swung. I was on level one of a tower from 20m away and the sound of metals cutting through air and crashing on each other was still terrified. If the ordinary sailors are around the peak of our world, the officers are monsters. They are as strong as the sailors… May be a bit stronger but more agile. They move and react faster. If my Orussan (Orussa is a great power known for its military) friend was here, he probably say something like “they got a great sense of their weapon”. They know the reach, the weight, the required force. They used their weapon like their feet and arms with great dexterity. I don’t think the old veterans of Orussa can even compete in this respect.
Then the guy in charge himself, the shipmaster. According to the bystanders, he didn’t use magic boost even once. Must have been a form of practice. Still, he deflected our crossbow bolts with his weapon like he didn’t feel the weight. The falchion which is chest-height if it stands from the ground with the blade being 10-finger wide. Granted, he had to use two hands to hold it upright, it is still a feat of strength. Yeah, strength. Strength is probably his asset. If I have to compare the shipmaster and his second-in-command, he was rougher around the edge. He didn’t handle his weapons as effectively but the strength is a big deal. It trumped the difference in skills. I wonder if this is deliberate. And he is as good as the Deckmaster, the only guy who kept the ogre at bay. It makes me shivered thinking about fighting that ogre with human strength. I hope the top brass make their effort recruiting them into our fold, or not antagonizing them. The ogres are bad enough.”
The next day.
Command Room. The Emerllia.
The chief of staff and other elven sailors have been looking at the energy detector’s screen with bored eyes. These big dots have been stalking their ships for hours. These movements and the depth clearly belong to animals but big ones. Animals will get curious to new thing that invaded their water, and the crew thought they would get bored after a while. Sure. Some of them left but they never disbanded. Some went away just for others to join in.
“Those are some seriously curious fishes.” A senior sailor commented before going to grab a snack around 2 hours ago.
Another suggested that they were waiting to be fed, like seagulls. Got a lot of good laughs out of that. Others quickly pointed out if they wanted to be fed, they would have gotten closer than 1km. They have never dared to approach that close, so the order was to have someone keeping an eye out for them. Nothing would have changed until 45 minutes ago a group cut the distance to 200. By the dot size, they are smaller than those outside the 1km perimeter.
“Juveniles!?”
Young animals are inexperienced and rash. The most dangerous thing is letting idiots unchecked, and 5 more pairs of eyes were delegated to the monitor. They got closer but just dangling around without doing anything. Many times, the crew said to themselves “this is it” but at last their anticipations were betrayed. This felt like the worst drama in history. Literally nothing happened and when something about to happen, it didn’t. Just when Saleh turned away from the monitor for a moment.
“They are coming!” Emerllia’s voice rang in their mind.
Just as she has announced, the dots spearheaded toward the Emerllia. Instinct led them to attack the weak-looking one.
“Brace for impact!”
It was 100m, 50, 25 and then...
Bloop!!!
“1st Shield. 99.”
The invisible shields of the Emerllia successfully blocked their charge. Although everyone foresaw it, they expected something more. The first failed attempt didn’t deter them. They clang around the shield, probably scratching, biting, or hitting the unseen wall.
“Hey, Dimithil. How is it?” It was Borag on the other end.
“Emerllia said they managed to down the shield by 1%.” Dimithil heard some fainted chuckles in the channel.
“What are ya gonna do about it?”
“Let them get closer, perhaps?”
With everyone’s agreement, Emerllia removed but the 4th shield. Each shield is an almond-shape bubble 5m apart from the other, with the inner most layer also 5m from the ship. Five meter will be the closest distance. Dimithil has already reached the rear. He would get the best chance of seeing these New World’s beasts there. Curiosity isn’t preserved to Dimithil. Part of the crew also joined their master on the balcony. Three hundred meter to the Emerllia’s starboard, the HMS Infinity spotted sailors with binoculars on her decks.
The silhouettes gradually unveiled under the deep blue. Elongated body, should be well over 30m, much bigger than the eel Dimithil hunted in Blue Bay (Chapter 3). He wondered how big they could get. Light color body. Two darker dorsal fins arranged on their back in a straight line. One of them lunged to the air revealed the draconic form. Its webbed forelimbs clawed at the shield. Its 120o wide jaw bit the wall. A couple sped up and slammed the side of the shield to no effect.
While the humans were taken aback by the beasts, their ferocity attracted the interest of the dwarves and elves. They cheered on the beasts much to the dismay of the Terokenes. To the humans, they didn’t want to become food. To the rest, it was a rare scene. Elven and dwarven war vessels are a threat to the wild beasts. They would always flee or go into hiding the moment they picked up the ship’s signature.
“Either they were too dumb to realise or they didn’t sense it at all.” The senior dwarf put down his binoculars.
“Should be the former. The big ones didn’t attack.”
“Or the big ones sent them to probe us.”
“What do you think, boss?” The young dwarf referred to Borag.
“Not for me to decide.” He gestured toward Dimithil.
“Emerllia. Can you scare them away?”
The dryad has already prepared this spell. In a matter of seconds, the moss-covered vine network on starboard bloomed an urchin-like fruit. Upon reaching the size of a human, the fruit departed to the sea. Having a mind of its own, the fruit swam to the outside of the shield and detonated. Despite scaling back the output, the shield still lost 5 of the remaining 97 points. The abrupted noise forced the young beasts to retreat. After judging it was safe, the sea dragons (?!?) slowly raised their head from the water. Their scornful eyes followed the now faraway ships. The bigger ones have already scattered when the soundwave reached their eardrums. These older dragons have seen things. The explosion refreshed their memory. Those that created such water column were death bringers.
Morning the next day.
Feron and Kivyan headed deeper into the forest. This section of the Land is particularly peaceful. The wind was gentle to the canopy. Large animals were rare while small ones keep their noise down. One could hear a water droplet from the tip of the leaf breaking into the nearby pond. Denizens of this place greeted them with cautious look. Abruptly, the two visitors disappeared from their watching eyes.
The two have entered a special barrier Feron prepared and maintained. It shields everything inside from the peeping eyes of the outside world and protect those within from most attacks. They walked toward a large slab of stone situated at the middle of the barrier, a snake-like creature was sleeping on it.
Its serpentine body was as wide as a growth man’s width and can be more than 8 meter in length. Its 4 slender limbs were divided into 2 pairs, one near its head and the other near its rear end. Feel the approaching presence, its eyelids opened revealing split pupils, the trait of venomous snakes. The pupils moved to the other end of its eye glancing at the intruders. Recognise Feron, the creature headed up revealing a boy sleeping in its coil.
The white-hair boy slept soundly under the blue blanket Feron had prepared for him months ago. The creature gently shook his head with its own. The pale-skin boy was still in deep sleep. Seeing its effort was in vain, it changed strategy. Using its forked tongue, the serpent made quick licks on his face tickling him. It didn’t take long for the boy to surrender. He woke up yawning with a drowsy look on his face. The moment his blue eyes realised Feron, his expression brightened up.
“Miss Feron. Kivyan. How are you?”
Kivyan and Feron nodded their head.
“Morning, Andrew. I am having a good day, today. How about you?”
“I am still a little sleepy.” Andrew scratched his head in embarrassment. “But it’s great seeing you, Miss Feron.”
“How long have they been?”
Andrew turned to the direction of Feron’s sight.
“Oh. You mean this child? I… don’t… really know.” He smiled awkwardly. “I have been sleeping the entire time. I think I have only been awake for one or two times.”
“Must be exhausted for you. Have you thought of a name for them?”
Andrew was about to say something but suddenly stopped. He turned to the serpent who has been listening attentively to their conversation. Feron got the impression they were communicating. It was a rather interesting experience. Telepathic communication is not rare, so are signal intercepting and jamming. As one’s mind and soul grow stronger, they become more skillful in manipulating these abstract abilities. For someone of her caliber, being unable to intercept or even have a sense of there is telepathic connection in such close distance is astonishing to her. Her head flooded with all the theories and hypotheses.
Andrew shined up. He came back to Feron.
“Her name is Dagonnash.”
“Dagon-?” She repeated after him with a surprised look.
“She said it is in honor of her patron god.”
“It is a good name.”
Dagonnash nudged Andrew’s face with her head which Andrew returned with a hug. He watched his daughter with a distant look.
“This child grows so fast. At first, she was wrapping around my arm. Now look at her.” Andrew petted her head. “Soon she will be the mother of her own brood…”
Andrew turned to Feron then lowered his head.
“Thank you, miss Feron and everyone of the Land. Thank you for allowing me to stay here.”
“We have already accepted “his” request.”
“Even so I am grateful to you all. That aside, I have an important message from “him”. Please give me your hand.”
Feron felt puzzled but still complied. Guiding her hand, Andrew placed it above his wrist. Her mind was overflowed with images and information. Her subconscious defense went haywire. While her consciousness demanded her to be calm, her subconsciousness alerted that her system is under attack of an overloading or logic bomb. The stalemate between her consciousness and subconsciousness rendered her incapable of action. Unbeknownst to her, there were commands within the information. Her telekinesis unconsciously cut Andrew’s wrist and drew out his blood. Kivyan and Dagonnash quickly arched closer, readied to act if the situation calls for.
The blood being shaped and solidified into a red dish. Feron finally regained control. She shook her head feeling dizzy. That was a lot of information to process. While her mental state was stabilising, Feron lent whatever power she could spare to close Andrew’s wound. The cut mark would still require some days to heal. Andrew laid the blood dish in front of Feron. Its face shows the image of two snakes coiling around an egg-shape object.
“I heard “his voice” during my dreaming. It contains the information to create this plate. I don’t know what is “his” intention but, Miss Feron, I know you can be trusted.”
She had a lot of questions which Andrew didn’t seem to have answers for.
“If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you, Miss Feron...” Andrew felt short on breath and had to put effort to gasp for more air. It’s not that He couldn’t breathe properly but his body was slowing down his pulse and breathing. “I had hoped we could chat for a bit longer…”
His eyelids became heavy. The sense of balance that kept him upright faded away faster than he could sense. His perception of the world spun around him.
“Dimithil… Send that child… and his friends… my regards…”
Andrew fell over. Dagonnash and Feron were just in time to catch him. Feron put Andrew back in his blanket where he rested in the embrace of his child. She bade him goodbye but not before telling him she would pay visit when he gets better.
Holding on the blood plate, Feron’s thought wandered. Andrew and “him” didn’t comment about who should have this artifact nor is there any mental note about what it does. Considering “his” contract with the elven kind back in the old world, giving it to Dimithil’s crew would be the only sensible option.
Next, there were information that must be shared with her peers. Beings like her do not tangle with mortal affairs but these revelations warranted at least their partial involvement. It seems whatever “he” prophesied to her and others back when they were still in the old world is slowly coming. Not waiting for a second longer, Feron established telepathic connection with other Ancients.
“Nero?”
“I am here.”
“Ollando? Are your group there?”
“We are receiving you.”
“I will send what I know.”
It stayed quiet for a good minute giving the pretense they were disconnected.
“Instead of protecting Andrew “himself”, “that guy” decided to put him in the hands of the elves?” Feron could imagine Nero furrowed his grey eyebrows as he asked the question.
“You have reached the same conclusion as me.”
“If we all agree that “the guy” himself overwhelms the collective might of our world, “his” motive can be easily explained.” Ollando took his turn.
“Either having Andrew beside “him” was more dangerous than leaving Andrew in the care of the elves, or “he” was not available to tend for Andrew at the time of the event.” Xantos elaborated.
“It makes sense why “he” took the hassle to make a contract with the elves, give us that warning, even leave behind the offspring to protect the boy and, today, that enigma of an artifact.” Liseek’thy slithered into the discussion. “About that artifact, what exactly is it for? From the information influx you received, it can only be created by manipulating Andrew’s flesh, and having received mental consensus of Andrew. Even with the knowledge, you wouldn’t be able to create a second one, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s correct.”
“Leaving that aside, the way of those higher beings is elusive to us. “He” must have foreseen you to be the second one to receive the mental note and later share it with us. It’s apparent. “He” wants us to act.”
Everyone listened to Nero attentively. The logic machine in their mind were running simulations to verify his deduction. Nero continued.
“The only reason our old world caught “his” attention is Andrew. Whatever “he” wants from our world or our people, it will have to do with Andrew’s well-being. This time, “he” deemed our involvement is necessary to secure Andrew’s safety. Whatever danger ahead, it will be rough.” That conclusion was quite plausible to them and so they stayed silent.
“I would have preferred to keep this hidden.” He proceeded to distribute the brief version of his story to the four. With the information at hands, they quickly decided their course of action.
A couple of hours ago.
The distant dot over the horizon has revealed its shape, a tropical island with rows of palm trees decorating its lonely sand. This island is the object that was reflected on the detector hours ago. It was estimated to be around 3km2. Neither Teroku nor the two ships believed it has inhabitants. No inhabitant means no diplomatic. The foreign office staff have voiced their opinion to continue the journey only to be objected by everyone else. No way they will let this opportunity to investigate the local flora and fauna slip off their hands. Every soul on the ships would jump in joy, have they not controlled themselves. The first landing on alien land, who wouldn’t be excited for that. As with any exploration only a small group is chosen, and they prayed it’s their lucky day.
Since none of the ship can get close to shore, the parties would be sent by boats. The elven team would make landfall on this side and head in land. Their task is the forest. Elves are better in forest they say. Meanwhile, the runeship would sail to the other side. Its 2 teams consisted of 5 dwarves and 5 humans each would scout the beach.
Twenty elves eagerly got on boats. Dimithil was one of them. That is non-negotiable. The shipmaster reached for the emerald seal at the central seat. The wooden white boat without paddle, sail, or engine magically changed its direction and rushed to the sandy shore. By definition, this boat is in the same category as the groveship, being “True” magic ship.
After the successful landing, the elves secured their boats on shore. Everyone checked their equipment one last time before the mission. It is not known what type of hostile this island has in store for them, and no one wants any casualty. Just as the young elf about to assign his men their tasks, Emerllia alerted them of Borag’s incoming call.
“Dimithil! Get to this location as soon as ya can. We saw something!”
The group dashed through the sand to the pinged location. The runeship spotted something on the hidden side of the island, their boats were heading there directly.
“Feed me what you have!”
“It’s a boat! The teams said fishing boat.”
“Give me two minutes! We are near there.”
After some minutes checking what they had, everyone reported.
“We found fishing net, wooden and stone tools, and this piece of metal.” The grey-beard dwarf handed over the knife-like object to Dimithil. He took a quick look and passed down to his men. The dwarf continued. “No casting, no heating, no hammering. Just metal ore sharpened on one edge. I don’t think it is even a tool.”
“The woodwork on this boat is also extremely simple.” The dwarf pointed his stumpy finger to the boat.
“I agree with Debacco. There are pre-Newman’s hu-” The elf made quick check on the Terokenes’ reaction before finishing the sentence with appropriate words. “pre-Newman’s craftsmanship with more sophisticated design.”
“Whoever is the owner, they must have been hiding from us.” The attention turned to another elf. “There are tracks near the boat with many half-erased. Elanor, tell us what you found.”
“We spread out to check the surroundings and saw weird patterns on that direction.” The fair elf gestured toward the forest. “Clearly they were too hurried to do a decent job. All the marks are new. Must be around the time our ships were visible from this island.”
Dimithil spoke to the opened channels.
“You all hear this?”
Teroku’s mainland offices, their communication officers, as well as the groveship were in silent. The dwarves also had no input. Borag grabbed his microphone.
“Do what ya need, Dimithil. Just be careful!”
The large group moved in three columns leading by Elanor and his men. Dimithil would have taken the lead if it’s not for his subpar tracking skill. Not really his fault as he is not gifted in that respect nor old enough to be adept at it. The humans and dwarves were the center of the group with their ranged weapon while the elves secured the outer perimeter.
The dwarves had to occasionally reminded their human friends to look up the canopy. Teroku’s men were not bad. They were just not used to this role. With the elves covered every direction, only something from up there can surprise them, and humans are taller than dwarves make them better at looking out for things on the trees. The dwarves with their sight lower to the ground steered their eyes to details near their friends’ feet.
The more they treaded into the forest, the more Borag and his brighter subordinates felt the bizarreness unfolded. Without any delay, he picked up his microphone.
“Infinity to Explorers. Did ya pick it up?”
“Explorer 1, here. We saw it.”
There was disturbance in this area, broken branches, smaller and newer vegetation, etc. These traces have been partially covered by the growing nature, but experienced skirmishers can see it. These were not randomly made, there is a pattern. By the size of the disturbance, they can pinpoint the beginning of these seemingly unseen marks. The south-east had the most disturbance, and it got lessen toward the center of the island. These patterns were old, more than 20-40 days depending on the growth of the vegetation.
The elves were the first to picked up these strange occurrences resulting in the leading group to slow down drastically. Senior dwarves were the second to notice. Their whispery discussion with the elves was the cue that alerted the rest. Something big had happened around here. The cogwheels in their head ran at full speed connecting the information their overdrive senses collected.
The pictures slowly came to light. Someone ran over here, and many followed them there. Someone fell here, here, and here. Something led a mark on this bark which is the same height as those broken branches over there. Someone pulled on them? No, they were taken away and arms had swung wildly holding to anything within reach. This rock was bottomed up. It is the size of a head, and this shape can’t be turned easily naturally.
“Do you see anything heading to the beach?” An elf asked, still keeping his eyes on the surroundings.
“I think there were.” The dwarf that took part in the scouting around the shore replied.
They came to the most likely scenario. Something from outside chased down people on this island and took them away by force. The owner of the fishing boat should be one of the survivors. Those with quick mind warned others not to let loose their weapon on non-hostile targets. Surprisingly, there was someone exceptional among the humans.
Following the tracks of their boat owner, Elanor guided the group through the disturbance into the denser forest. Before Elanor could take another step, a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“They are here.” Dimithil’s voice whispered. His animalistic instinct has kicked in.
The group gathered behind Dimithil looking at the silent trees. Their field leader stepped forth. He unstrapped the scabbard holding his Falchion, entrusted them to his subordinates.
“We are strangers from unknown lands. We are not enemies. We only want to talk with you.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” Said one dwarf.
“Maybe he should put some baits (gifts) in that first.”
“Yep. Don’t think they would come out.”
“Who would even when they have already been that alerted about strangers?”
In contrast to their criticism, everyone picked up the rustling sound coming toward them. Something felt a little strange here, everyone thought. The tribesman slowly shortened their distance, his hands held tightly at the wooden spear.
“What do you want?”
After much time and persuasion efforts, the tribesman deemed it was safe enough. He called out to others still hiding inside. There were twenty or so children. The oldest was roughly 8 years old. He invited them to their village or to be precise whatever remains of the village. There were burnt mark on the ground. The leaf tents they lived in were relatively new. It doesn’t need much explanation to know what happened.
“They came last moon, Demons of many sizes. I was sick at that time and took longer to return from my fishing. The sickness saved my life. These children were fast on their feet to the earth cracks. They were the only that escaped. They killed my people, fed on their body, burned our houses, and rounded up the captives to their big ships.”
“Are you usually attacked by these demons?”
“Ever since our forefathers, we haven’t seen such demons before.” He shook his head.
More questions revealed the identity of those invaders. Small demons the size of children, “the goblins”. Big demons the size of an adult man, “the goblin lords”. Boar demons, “the orcs”. Tall demon, “the ogre”. Probably not the same group they encountered but very likely from the same source.
“Do you think they would return?”
“I don’t know but that’s not my biggest concern.” He looked at the tents with saddened eyes. “The sickness I got hasn’t healed. It sapped my strength, and I couldn’t fish as I used to. None of the children were old enough to go to the sea, and this island doesn’t have much food for them. I afraid we wouldn’t last.” He stopped for a moment. “There were other tribes, our friends, living in islands around here. I have wanted to bring the children there but I afraid they may have fallen to the demons.”
The tribesmen made eye contact with their captain. The dull eyes have picked up something within Dimithil.
“I know this is a lot to ask but please take these children with you.” He lowered his head deeply showing the back of his head.
The suddenness of this request stunned them. It showed how desperate the tribesman was. Thinking back, it made some sense. There was little time for him left. These strangers also looked much more decent than the demons. They found them without much effort. If they were as vile as those demons, they wouldn’t just stand there watching. After concluding the tribesman left his hideout because of his situation, everyone felt somewhat relief. In other words, Dimithil’s speech sucks, and everyone knows it. They themselves would feel unsettling if that could convince anyone.
“Are you sure you could trust us?”
“I saw men in big ships, coming here before. Men said they came from place known as the civilization. Some tried acting friendly to us, asking for direction South. They all had this thing, disdain, in the eyes. You are different.” The crews saw their reflection in the man’s eyes. “I am not old man Tiki but I know you are trustworthy.”
The words of the tribesman left them each with different thought, but none could refuse helping a dying man.
Four more boats were dispatched from the ships. These are the resolution of the ships and Teroku. Beside John, Paul, Borag, and other familiar faces, a hooded figure has come to join Dimithil’s group. Teroku side remembered this outfit. The hooded one belonged to that group that took care of the deads. Terokenes believed they are morticians, but their communication officers were not too sure about that. The tribesman was wary about the black hood. After all, it was an outfit that gave off ominous feeling.
“Please be at ease. She came to help.” Borag reassured him.
She took off the hood. Her aged hair neatly tied into braids. Her face carried the carvings of time. Her eyes have barely any color but from those windows everyone could feel the kindness of her soul. She is without any doubt the very definition of a loving grandmother. She made her introduction with a gentle smile then asked for his hand.
Those with knowledge of magic from the Land understood this well. Some of the criteria that defined the strength of magic is belief. The act of asking the hand is the same as asking the opposite side to believe. The resonance of souls made magic of one party works better on the other or at least that’s what the theory said.
After completing what has been requested, she clasped her hands. The tribesman moved his arms, made a deep inhale. It was a miracle to him. He felt his body much better than before. He bowed to the old lady, thanking from the depth of his heart.
“I am sorry. I don’t know what caused his sickness. I can only treat him.”
Without knowing the cause, they wouldn’t be able to provide any prevention strategy or develop alternative treatments. It was bad taste that they couldn’t do a complete job. Nevertheless, the tribesman was grateful to them. The old lady then asked to see the children which the tribesman promptly showed her the way.
“Shipmaster! I have wanted to ask you this but who are they (the people in black hood)?”
Borag looked at John. His mind struggled to find an easy way to explain. “They are people with a certain way of life, the Deathologists.”
“Deathologist?”
“They are worshippers of Death as in believing in the natural process of Nature. To them, only Death can end life, any other mean employed by sentient beings can be considered as blasphemy to them. The degree of what they believe as “the way of Nature” is not clear to me. However, they advocate peace as war and violence would cause unnatural death. They demand that us those with ability to change our environment to be careful in our activities as to not cause suffering to other living thing. They are also archnemesis of the School of Necromancy as to them calling the deads from their eternal slumber is a great sacrilege. Sometimes, I find their belief to be hypocritical. They promote the way of natural death but they themselves are active physicians healing both physical and mental traumas. Again, it is not a clear cut on exactly what they believe. Their motives, I think is to lessen sufferings. Sorry, I talk too much.”
“No, no. I am grateful that you would explain it to us in such detailed.”
Actually, Borag intended to make such a long speech from the beginning. He knew he would not be able to make a short answer. Moreover, making a short but unclear statement could potentially slander the Deathologists. The cult of Deathology after all deserve his respect. While their name may not sound friendly, they have done a great service to his world.
The crews have used the rest of the day helping the tribe. Those who were confident with their strength joined Dimithil and Beherzt on heavy duties. They cut and brought wooden logs back to the village, processed the wood to building materials, lifted said beams and planks per instruction of the construction teams. Those who were judged to have adequate cooking skills were assigned to make dinner for everyone. The crafting teams were in charge of providing the tribe with better daily tools from boats to traps to gardening tools. Those who were good with children spent the afternoon together with them alongside the old lady. They would first revisit the burial place the tribesman made for his tribe. They would pray in honesty, whispering their consolation to the deads. They would later help the children in their first task given out by the tribesman, to make the ritual clothing. Saleh and Borag set sail to check on the neighboring tribes. These islands were very close on the detector as the tribesman has told. They would be able to return to this island by morning.
The ravage of the demons has filled his heart with sorrow and darkness. Never did the tribesman think such a great bonfire would again be lifted in his village. All the smiling faces of the children and his strange guests made it feels like the nightmare has never happened. The tribesman adorned his newly made clothes. The dance he was performing is revered to only the most honored guests. These seafarers have done much for his tribe, it is only fitting that he would welcome them with it.
Usually only the best dancers of his tribe would make this ceremonial dance. Today, there was only him accompanied by the children’s singing. A part of his heart felt lonely and sad, but he set it aside. This moment, there is only one thing that mattered to him, the dance. This entire month, he didn’t even dream of being able to make this dance nor to have this many people watching it. Today, he would dance like it was his last. Today, he would dance like it was the last time his tribe’s ritual dance would be made. Tonight, this dance was more than just ceremonial dance. Tonight, it was his tribe’s culture. It was his forefathers’ legacy. It was the spirits of his people. Tonight, in a small island that is like a speck of dust on the sea, the cosmos enjoyed the great dance of the Bopojuko people.
“Ok. Try this!”
The blindfolded young man took a large bite. His tongue felt the sweetness. His teeth chewed on the softness. After the last bit went down his throat, he made his final. “This one is better.”
“Damn it!”
He took off the blindfold to see the elf sulked while the dwarf celebrated generously.
“You owned me one, pal!” The dwarf said, wearing a huge grin.
It seems there were some friendly competitions among the kitchen staff.
To another group who just bottomed up their shot. There was barely any alcoholic scent left in their glass after the liquid went down their guts. Everyone looked at each other for reaction. It was a little hard to describe this feeling.
“Cleric (Name of a dwarven brewery)?” A dwarf guessed.
“My clan.” The Deckmaster shook his head in reply.
“That was fresh!” Someone else said.
“Another?”
Everyone brought up their glass. While Beherzt poured the liquid from his barrel-like cask, a Teroku soldier sunk his teeth on the fruit at hand. This fruit is a treat from the groveship. In one of the lowest decks, there were a dedicated place where the elves covered it in soil. These fruits are products of that garden floor. It is not enough to make the ship self-sufficient, but it was a nice treat. While others were enjoying the deliciousness, the communication officers were cracking their brain out not understanding why they need a garden in the groveship in the first place.
To another group of soldiers.
“Oi! Benny!” A Teroku soldier called out to the sitting young man.
Benny knew this person, it’s his friend from the same unit back in the navy. The two were unfortunately separated during this mission. He went to the dwarven ship while Benny to the other. Benny moved his eyebrows acknowledging his presence. The soldier wrestled Benny’s neck in his arms.
“You, luck bastard! You have been letting me out.”
Benny’s eyes were a little surprise. He did not understand what his friend was talking about.
“Seriously, Benny? Do you even need to act?”
Benny seriously had no idea.
“You have such beauty on your ship, and you didn’t even bother telling me?”
“Seriously, dude. I have no idea what you are talking about.”
The guy rolled up his eyes. After making a big exhale, he turned Benny’s head to the other direction. The scenery reflected back to his eyes was Elanor tending to the children. Finally, Benny was on the same wavelength as his friend. He turned back. His eyes were those of tired old men. He literally spelt out each word.
“I. Have. Seen. Things. And. You. Have. No. Idea!”
After that, he resumed his dinner. Confusion popped up in his mind. The soldier decided to go back to the dwarves who he made friend with. He repeated his little exchange with Benny to the brown beard. His story caught the attention of the nearby dwarves. They all looked at the brown-beard dwarf, eyes expecting drama. The dwarf made a difficult face.
“How should I say this.” He took a skewer and gave it to the guy.
“Ok, Jerry. You know chicken, right?”
That was a weird question, but he nodded anyway, hand holding the chicken skewer the dwarf gave him.
“So, chicken has male and female.”
The dwarf grabbed something on the ground. He placed it on Jerry’s other hand.
“But elves are like the sand or wind.”
It felt like a riddle to Jerry. He thought long and hard. Then it flared up in his mind. He turned his head 65 degree. His eyes tracked after the soft features on Elanor’s face. The inviting lips kissed on the red fruit. Even the simple act of chewing was like a natural wonder on that angelic face. Jerry watched as the food went down the straight neck. There was no trace of the bump (Adam’s Apple) which usually sit on the male’s throat. It's not there but Elanor is not?!? He looked at the form that has tempted his soul even to this moment, and tears streaming down his face.
The dwarven eyes were filled with pity. Some could not stay to look. The brown beard dwarf tugged on Jerry’s hand while two others helped him sit down. Jerry was on the rock that the other dwarves have prepared as a sitting place for him, the entire time his eyes haven’t left Elanor. The dwarf patted on his back.
“There. There. Tonight, you just eat. And. Drink.” He scattered the sand on Jerry’s hand and placed the glass on his fingers.
The other dwarves looked at him.
“Quite the norm when a binary biological system meets a non-binary.”
“Basil, please! Use the common tongue. This is not one of those encyclopedia-style novel writing section.”
“Another soul went off the deep end.”
“It was a first-class ambush. The poor boy was not prepared.”
“You made that sounds like a bad thing.
“If he can conquer this trial, a world awaits him.”
“Hmm. Let me remember. There seems to be this saying. ‘The Fujoshi would be pleased!’ Or something along the line.”
“Gentlemen, we don’t mention the corrupted ones here.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I wonder what choice would he make?”
“5 drinks he got a baptism.”
“3 drinks for the new ship.”
“When do you think he would return to normal?”
