Chapter 58

(Septham 20th, Year 672 of the 4th Age)

(Lenehil)

After waking up and consuming a platter of home fries and sunny-side-up eggs, the party members leave Lenehil and are on the road to Canir’s border. The mountain range on the horizon acts as a beacon to their destination. Fuming over the feud last night, Arven and Sylfinas don’t utter a single word in the initial stages. Their lack of chatter seems to spread throughout the group, mimicking a cold.

Speaking of a terrible illness, the humidity returns, more potent than yesterday. Arven and the others stare at multiple bodies of water near them with lust in their eyes before Kaera warns them that each pool most likely contains at least one alligator, though some are willing to bear the risk. Merrick proceeds to offer hope by stating severe storms will arrive later in the day. With his forecast in mind, they press onward to be closer to their destination before seeking shelter from the oncoming storm.

Dark clouds and blustery winds alleviate the heat’s pressure on the party prior to the rain. Then it transitions to a light sprinkle. By the time the group locates a single-story house, the skies open up hard on the members; the downpour descends at a rate of a waterfall if the gale-force winds didn’t blow the droplets at an angle.

Arven volunteers to knock on the door when he, Bolts, Lorna, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas arrive at the structure, all saturated from the shower instead of sweat. Perceiving no response, he knocks on it again. This time, it results in the door opening to reveal a male Ki’Tsun on the other side, dripping wet just like them.

The companions perceive four body features on him while wearing a cloak that blends with the environment. The most notable trait is his two tails protruding out of his posterior. His height is closest to Sylfinas’s, and the fur around his face and brown eyes is a blend of red and orange.

“We have people outside, Vörös,” the Ki’Tsun speaks. He glares at Kaera for a few seconds.

“Let them inside, Yasuga,” the masculine entity responds out of the party’s view. “It’s storming, for Gods’ sake.”

Yasuga moves out of the entranceway for the group members to enter. As they enter the building, they behold the source of the unique voice. A bipedal dog resembling a Rough Collie dressed in lighter, drier clothing sits on a chair by a lit fireplace, though there is zero fuel. They know that he is armed by observing throwing knives attached to a belt at his waist, and they suspect the Ki’Tsun bears weapons also.

The tension hangs in the air upon Arven and the others discovering the weapons on the stranger duo. Are they friendly or malevolent? Vörös and Yasuga are also thinking on the exact wavelength as they process them, the fox keeping an eye on the Fenri the most while Kaera acts weird more than hostile at Yasuga.

Sylfinas recognizes the symbol on Yasuga’s brooch. “They’re with the Wolfpack. We can ease our anxiety.”

“If they are members, they can answer this one question,” Arven responds. “The Wolfpack has a branch in Adoran. Where is its location?”

The fox snorts as if the answer is common knowledge. “It’s in Hemloth near Crisea’s borders and the Isthmus of Sennelan,” he answers, his hands tensing near his waist.

“It was established on Jolthek 14 in the year 665 of this age,” Vörös adds to the Ki’Tsun’s answer.

Once he hears the correct answer and Myla reassures them, Arven, Merrick, and Sylfinas tell Bolts, Lorna, and Kaera, to calm down, signaling to the Collie and fox that they aren’t a threat to them. Yasuga ambulates over to another chair, stripping off his damp cloak to his light clothes while Vörös inspects his gear. The party members also change to their drier attire, giving Myla the best-secluded section in the house to switch clothes, and she waits for the all-clear.

“That storm came from out of nowhere,” Vörös comments.

“Fortunately for us, we located this building fast or else would’ve been just as soggy as working on a ship in the Levosita Ocean,” Yasuga responded.

“No…no. The ship will still reign supreme.” Vörös shivers at the memory. “Those waves were brutal.”

The vulpine nods. “True.”

“If we were still out in the wilderness for an extended time during this storm, I would rank it at second worst.”

"You can come out when you're ready, Myla," Kaera utters.

The Beastgirl pokes her head from the corner. “These strangers are with the Wolfpack; what is it for?” She stares at Kaera. “Are you a member?”

“Nothing’s preventing me from becoming one,” Kaera answers, "and no, it isn't strictly for Fenri or canine races if that's the reason for your thinking."

“And it’s a guild to protecting people from monsters from basic goblins, renegade animals and kobolds, to owlbears, razorclaws, and beyond and everything in between,” Vörös replies. “Even dragons are fair game.” He doesn’t bother revealing more information about the organization.

“If one decides to not be a recluse,” Yasuga responds. “People are beginning to believe they don’t exist anymore.” He, too, decides to not answer any further. Arven, Kaera, and Merrick glare at Sylfinas to prevent him from explaining additional details to the minute, reinforcing the Half-Elf's initial decision.

The wind rattles the house violently as if it forms two invisible hands of a giant throwing a tantrum. The force targets the trees as its next victims, snapping the branches off and toppling some of them over with a loud crash. Thunder booms as fast as lightning materializes. Distinguishing himself out of the entire group, Merrick has his hairs erect because of a hidden sense.

“Powerful tempest out there,” Sylfinas speaks.

“Luckily for us, land storms become shorter as they gain strength,” Vörös replies. “Out on the open waters, Kurane can make them as violent as she wishes and force them to last also.”

“I say the full brunt will last for another ten minutes, and then it’s safe to go outside,” Merrick utters. “Unless you prefer staying dry, then wait for an hour instead.

“You sound so certain,” Yasuga responds.

“I have a knack for accurate storm predictions.”

The Collie stares at Merrick. “Your mana is potent. It reminds me of another guild member.”

Merrick makes eye contact at Vörös. “You must be mistaken. I don’t have any mana.”

Vörös doesn’t believe him, perceiving fear in his voice. “You must be afraid of your ability.” Merrick nods his head. “And I suspect you are a novice.”

Again, Merrick nods. “Can you teach me?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have the time because as soon as the storm clears, Yasuga and I will continue our mission. I can offer one piece of advice to you; it’s unhealthy for fear to hold you back.”

Easy for you to say when you don’t have a monster you’re trying to get rid of inside you. Merrick doesn’t add more to the conversation, allowing it to end naturally.

“What’s your quest, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sylfinas inquires.

“We’re investigating reports of aggressive gators and exterminate them if they’re real,” Yasuga answers. “Nothing serious.”

A long rifle near the Ki’Tsun’s cloak and equipment captures Lorna’s attention when she notices it. Placing her firearm against it, its overall length is slightly shorter and for a smaller caliber than hers as she scrutinizes it closely; the wood has a shinier sheen than hers also. The beer-keg-shaped handle of the bolt and a chunk of metal sticking out of the chamber are the significant contrasts between her breech-open, single-shot rifle and Yasuga’s gun.

The double-tailed fox observes her curiosity as he grabs his ranged weapon from the wall to clean it. “Nice rifle you possess. I take it you’re into firearms?”

“I am,” Lorna responds. “They even the odds against brawny individuals that decide to start shit with me. I had never seen this particular type of firearm before. What is it?”

Yasuga pulls out a cleaning rod and starts to clean inside the barrel. “It’s a brand new design just emerging into service, so it doesn’t surprise me. It’s from two males named Schedler and Ruppert; the former was responsible for the firearm design and the latter designing the cartridge. The combination allows the user to reach its target farther and a higher capacity than today's designs. What’s your rifle? I know it’s based on the classic trapdoor design.”

“A model 656 Surgfield rifle.” Lorna proceeds to reveal her two revolvers to Yasuga. “These revolvers are M660s from Cohl.”

Yasuga inserts another rag into his rifle. “How did you come across them?”

“The revolvers are from a special connection.” Lorna decides to sit down and inspect her elongated firearm. “The Surgfield came from another Ki’Tsun as a gift to me. He was the reason why I became interested in firearms and taught me how to shoot.”

“You must be a sharpshooter then.”

“I’m extremely accurate. I prefer up close and personal than staying behind and snipe, however.” While Yasuga dismantles his gun, Lorna discerns the unique bolt design. “Interesting mechanism for the bolt.”

“Schedler created it so the operator would only pull back and push forward, cutting the number of operations in half than typical bolt-actions. The theory is it allows for a faster rate of fire for the twelve-round capacity magazine and for the wielder to not lose sight of the target easily.”

“Keep this up, Lorna, and you’ll replace Sylfinas,” Kaera interrupts.

“Am I not permitted to have hobbies?” Lorna replies.

“And I can control my rambling,” Sylfinas responds, sounding almost insulted.

The group, Vörös, and Yasuga gather around an open area for a minor lunch of jerky and nuts to wait out more of the squall, listening to the downpour, wind, raindrops dripping from holes on the roof, and for any sudden noise of a tree collapsing. Sylfinas turns over to Merrick to ask a question.

“You think you can prepare an adequate meal with what we have?”

“Possibly,” Merrick answers. “It depends on what else we possess like spices, herbs, and so on.”

After spending five minutes scouring the building and themselves, Merrick believes he can prepare food that tastes better than dried jerky and nuts. He runs outside with a pot, collects enough rain to fill, runs back inside, and hangs above the magical fire. While the water is boiling, Merrick starts prepping miniature dumplings, dropping them into liquid when it reaches optimal temperature. As they cook, he whips up a brown gravy with chunks of jerky in it. Once the dumplings float to the top, he divides them into even portions, dumps the sauce on each of them, and hands them to everybody in the group. They compliment him, and he acts modestly.

“I must say, that was delicious,” Yasuga extols, wiping his mouth with a rag.

“Beats your cooking,” Vörös replies after a belch.

“I never saw your offer to assume the role of cooking for the party. I thought rangers are supposed to be excellent cooks.”

“That’s a myth; there are equal amounts of terrific and terrible cooks among rangers.” Vörös looks towards Merrick with veneration. “I wouldn’t mind tagging along with you on missions if you were a Wolfpack member.”

Merrick responds with a simple nod and a “Thanks” before muting. He, Arven, Myla, and the remainders now notice that Vörös is the second tallest out of everybody, being five inches shorter than Kaera as she sits closer to him. The Beastgirl descries similarities in their characteristics, which prompts her to utter a question to Kaera.

“Is he the same race as you?”

“He’s not,” Kaera answers, masking her livid side with a friendly expression.

“Then what is he? He reminds me of my dog just like you, if not more.”

“I’m a Káyüt,” Vörös replies.

“What’s that?”

The Káyüt articulates an explanation about his race and the differences between it and the Fenri, expanding when Yasuga adds Ki’Tsun to the mixture. As Yasuga explains his race, he shoots daggers out of his eyes at Kaera several times briefly. Lasting for far longer than anticipated, the storm moves on after the conclusion. Afterward, the group members give a proper introduction to Vörös and Yasuga, and the dyad reciprocates.

Sylfinas notices the double-tailed vulpine act hostile towards Kaera while avoiding Yasuga's eyes. "Any reason for the interactions between you two?"

"It's a feud between the Fenri and the Ki'Tsun," Kaera answers.

"And a deep one at that," Yasuga adds with vitriol.

"I don't observe Kaera being prepared to initiate a fight," Sylfinas speaks.

"That's because I was friends to a dyad of Ki'Tsuns awhile ago. They sadly perished right around the Níðhöggr appeared."

Yasuga gives a single hearty, sarcastic laugh. "I don't believe a couple of my own would be friends with a Neskommi." Myla and Sylfinas could perceive some sadness coming from him.

Kaera lowers her head slightly. "Regardless, I have no desire to hold onto the ancient vendetta between our kind anymore."

Once the Ki'Tsun relents, Vörös directs his attention at Arven, discerning familiar features from him. The party members gather their equipment and resume their journey to Canir, saying farewell to the Káyüt and Ki’Tsun.

Once the door closes, Yasuga notices Vörös’s countenance change. “Something the matter?”

“One of the new acquaintances has familiar features, reminding me of someone from long ago,” the Rough Collie responds. “Arven, I believe is the name.”

“Who does he remind you of?”

“He must be the Exterminator’s little brother.”

Widespread devastation greets Arven, Bolts, Lorna, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas as they ambulate outside. Hindering their movements are trees of various sizes, mainly small to medium width trunks. The ground is also actively fighting against them, sucking their feet and refusing to release them like a child in a tug-o-war match with its parents over its favorite toy. Similar to their shelter, the structures they encounter along the way lack proper coverings on the roof. They stumble upon a house with a fallen tree inside. Still, they press forward as they observe the occupants are safe, with samaritans already assisting them, aiding a random person later on by freeing his cart from the mud. Further down on the path, they encounter a raging creek in a space suitable for a tiny stream, and it floods a considerable amount of the road.

Over the raging torrent’s sounds, Kaera detects a boy screaming, “Help! Over here! Please, help us!” She turns her head to her left, alerting the others to the source.

“Over there! In that tree!” 

Holding on for dear life on a branch is a family of four Wood Elves. The mother, father, and one of their sons are secure at their location while the other male child struggles to stay afloat from the surge, far away from his family for them to extend their hands.

“Don’t worry! We’re going to help!” Arven says. The roar from the flash flood forces him and the party to raise their voice.

An idea pops into Sylfinas’s head. “Do you know how to control water, Merrick?”

“I can only do lightning,” Merrick answers.

For plan B, Sylfinas resorts to Sariel. “What about you?

“Divine and healing are my specialties,” Sariel replies.

“I can only heal pain,” Myla speaks before anybody gives her the exact question.

Since the most straightforward plan is unavailable, the party members gather to formulate a plan. The branch providing the safety net to the boy begins to snap, setting the countdown in motion. The most valuable item in their possessions is two ropes that are individually fifty feet long. While Bolts and Lorna are occupied tying the two ropes together to give them the widest breathing room, Arven stares at Merrick.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Merrick inquires, not relishing where the plan is heading.

“You’re going into the water with the rope at your waist to rescue the boy,” Arven replies.

“Why me?”

“You’re one of the lightest members of the group. Even with him in your hands, it will be effortless to pull you back.”

“Why not toss it to him instead of having me or someone else wade across the raging flood?” Merrick would rather have a date with Pumpkin instead of being in any body of water regardless of whether it's tranquil or tumultuous.

“Distance’s too great to throw.”

“What about Lorna, Sylfinas, and the robot?” Merrick stops his fear from forcing him to bellow Myla’s name.

“Clink-clank!” Bolts sounds irate at Merrick for not calling it by its name.

“Bolts’s entire body is metal,” Lorna uttered. “It’s the heaviest member in the group.”

Brief memory flashes of a traumatic memory assault Merrick while staring at the convulsive current. “I’m terrified of water, Arven.”

“What about the sewers and sailing over to Nowell?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice back then in the sewers, and I was inside the ship during the entire journey.” While Arven, Merrick, and the other group members continue their argument, the branch is closer to breaking completely, and the flood is also higher.

Bolts seizes the initiative by attempting to tie the rope around itself. “Clink-clank.”

“You want to go through with this?” Lorna inquires.

Bolts nods its head. “Clink-clank.”

Once Arven, Kaera, Lorna, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas securely tie the rope around Bolts and have a tight grip on the cord, it leaps into the swift water. Its ponderous mass counteracts the water’s force, allowing it to traverse to the juvenile with relative ease. The ease causes them to exhale a tiny sigh of relief that they won’t struggle with maintaining a sturdy foot placement while holding the thick, safety string.

Bolts arrives at the adolescent, male Wood Elf, and it can’t blame him for the terrifying countenance it observes. Rather than hearing it give actual words, he detects only, “clink-clank,” making communication grueling between them. It employs crude hand motions to convey to him to latch onto its back, but he refuses to release his death-grip on the frail branch now weaker than seconds ago and on the verge of complete collapse. It barely grabs his shirt as the wood snaps off the primary branch, endeavoring to pull him closer to it so it can escort him to safety. Walking through the torrent to the boy’s family and then back to the group is more accessible to Bolts than getting him nearer because it believes the rope is unnecessary.

The water cuts off the party associates’ only means of escape, trapping them on the patch of dry land that continues to shrink smaller and smaller; Sylfinas suspects the storm is adding more liquid to the alluvion from far away. Rather than having Bolts lift the lightest people individually, they decide that they would all go together with Bolts carrying Lorna, Sylfinas raising Myla, and Arven aiding Merrick while Kaera walking by herself.

Bolts, Lorna, Kaera, Myla, and Sylfinas, wade across the surging water successfully. They witness Arven and Merrick having rigor halfway through their endeavor as Arven struggles to maintain his balance. Aghast, they watch the current sweep them downstream. Miraculously for Arven, he encounters a stable surface to brace himself against early on, but Merrick is less fortunate.

Merrick impacts on a gargantuan log that’s currently damming the water, encountering an undertow. Fear of drowning has him in a vice grip, and panic emerges from its slumber. As his head submerges or a water surge splashes his face, troublous images fill his head. Fragments distort his sense of reality as he jumps between his past and witnessing his companions charge towards rescuing him on numerous occasions.

The first fraction he conjures up from his subconscious depicts him resting inside a rectangular container in restraints while wearing underwear. Another portion has several scientists of various races gathering around him. A third fragment triggers a gelid sensation on his body that distinguishes itself from the frigid water before witnessing two group members leap into the creek. At the same time, he descends into the depths for the last time.

Merrick finds himself inside a vacant chamber, mostly naked, instead of in the woods with Arven, Bolts, Kaera, Lorna, Myla, and Sylfinas. Terrific, I’m dead, and I’m now free from that Elder Tempest, or whatever it's called, forever. Why are most of my clothes gone? He quickly realizes that he’s within an empty, translucent glass container, and his hands and feet are chained to it with obscure objects attached to him. Wait a second.

A door to his right opens, and one at a time, people carrying notepads congregate around him till the count reaches three, confirming his worst fear. He’s reliving one of the experiments from the Redemptioners.

“Alright, let’s escalate the longevity to ten minutes and lower the temperature to negative thirty-five degrees, and write down the results,” the male Human speaks.

The scientists start to dump water and ice on top of Merrick though his body believes they’re piercing his skin with numerous knives instead. In a twisted form of torture, each burst of freezing liquid sucks the air out of him, yet it punishes him for breathing in additional air by infiltrating his lungs.

“Stop, please! No more! I beg you!” Merrick beseeches to no avail.

As he witnesses it himself, Merrick’s entire body is underneath the glacial water for the cryogenic experiment, blurring his vision, distorting his hearing, and numbing his other senses in the process. Through his warped imagination, he perceives a pair of hands breaking the water’s surface and begins to glow icy-blue. While the temperature decreases, he remembers convulsing violently before blacking out.

Next thing Merrick knows, he’s back in the real world, soggy, on the ground coughing up water and encircled by the group members with Kaera directly in front of his face. They heave a massive sigh of relief but revert back to concern as he lashes out in fear.

“Woah, woah, Merrick,” Kaera utters soothingly as she gently subdues him by embracing him. “It’s ok; you’re safe now.” The warmth and calm emotions transmitting from Myla assist her in sedating him.

“What happened?” Merrick inquires.

“Bolts and I jumped into the water right as you went under,” Lorna replies. “Arven came in moments later to help us beat the force, and we pulled your unconscious body out of the flood.”

“Then it was mostly Myla and Sylfinas trying to resuscitate you prior to Kaera utilizing her strength to compel the water to exit your lungs,” Arven adds to the narrative. “Damn near gave me a heart attack when you didn’t respond after a while.”

“Same,” Kaera concurs. “Next, you were suddenly spitting out a massive quantity of water and throwing a spasm. Now here we are.”

“How are you feeling?” Arven asks.

“I won’t need a bath for several days,” Merrick responds. “Maybe a couple of weeks.” Or never, if I can help it.

“Think you are rejuvenated enough to move?” Sylfinas inquires.

“Let me gather my breath, and then I’m good to go.”

The family gives Arven and the others gratitude before they resume their journey to Canir with it trailing behind them. They encounter more devastation obstructing their route, siphoning more energy and time out of them. They find the bright sides are clear skies and the humidity down to a comfortable level.

The Wood Elves separate from the party when they arrive at their distant member’s house, offering Arven, Bolts, Lorna, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas refuge for the night. Still, they refuse politely since they’re near their objective and decide to press onward. They will rest as soon as they are at the mountain range.

Night arrives, and the fireflies are out in full force because of the saturated environment. Two celestial bodies, the moon, and its evil twin, share the dark sky. Arven and the rest of the party behold the vile sphere ascending sluggishly towards its position to signal the Darkened Seven's commencement. Unlike the traditional east to west, like the sun and moon, the evil, celestial body travels north to south, marginally tilting its angle each time it appears.

Despite the urge to prepare camp, the group associates march forward. The glow from the settlement at the border is within their view as Myla decelerates, so Sylfinas offers her a piggy-back ride. Late at night, they finally arrive at civilization. At long last, they are at Canir and almost completing their quest, unaware of what they’re stepping into.