Chapter 91: The Distant Tower

  RAVHEN

  It was not normal for a forest to butt up against the badlands like this, but Ravhen was grateful for it. The mana-starved, parched and cracked earth had been left behind half a day ago, giving way to tough and fibrous grasses and shrubs… and then an abrupt line of fertile greenery. Knobby roots bulged out at the edge, showing where the trees had tried to penetrate the lifeless soil and given up over the years. They formed a low ridge, like a natural barrier to the mana-rich patch of forest beyond.

  “This area is thick with Aqua mana,” Fisska muttered while he refilled the waterskins. The clear stream they had found had an impressive flow, making a single waterskin quick task. But the trip across the badlands had almost entirely depleted their water even with tight rationing, so even the rapidly-filled skins would take some time to fully replenish.

  Achen, the group’s scout, dropped down from the tree above and shook herself off, the complex braiding of her mane shedding a few small twigs. “It isn’t a giant dead tree, it’s a tower. A rock tower.”

  “You mean a spire? A rock spire?” Ravhen asked the question with a vague distraction, still examining this new species of tree. The bark was very smooth, with little to no marks or knots. He slid his hand over it, his Mana Sense feeling the faint pulse of power within. “This tree likely has some magical properties, but I’d need some more time to figure them out…”

  Achen flattened her ears back and whipped her tail in irritation. “No, I mean a tower. The sides are smooth and segmented. It’s definitely a construction. Doesn’t look like any tower I’ve seen before, though.”

  Ravhen turned away from his examination in surprise, his ears rising sharply. He noticed Veysen, the fourth and final member of the small group, opened his eyes from where he was resting as well. Ravhen’s tail twitched with confusion. “You think that there are people here already? I was sure we’d gone farther…”

  More than sure. Ravhen glanced at his Status while he awaited an answer, and confirmed that he’d just hit a new level. A [Lore Finder] like him gained experience by exploring and cataloguing new information. He’d get more when he returned and passed on his findings, but even exploration granted a good amount of experience. Almost as much as a [Horizon Bearer] would get.

  Which meant this was new to at least all the communities he was familiar with. Perhaps a long-splintered Sylen or Calen tribe had wandered this far before recorded history? Discoveries of such long-distant cousins were not unknown, but extremely rare.

  Achen scratched at the ground with her toe claws, showing her own agitation. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any other signs of habitation. Building a tower that size would take a lot of elves, and it’s the only structure around. And where would they get the stone? Dig a big hole? We’re pretty far from any place that would make a good quarry.”

  “Unless there’s a hidden canyon or something,” Ravhen mused. “But even then it’s a strange thing to build out in the middle of the wilderness. We should move cautiously. We can’t assume it’s abandoned.”

  Veysen grunted, “Maybe a dragon lair.” It wasn’t a bad thought, but none of the group really thought that was what it was. It was simply better to be prepared for the possibilities than not.

  Fisska finished with the waterskins and stood up, handing out the refilled containers to everyone. “This is a high mana area, so it could just be some kind of strange monster.”

  The calm warning merely stated what all the others had thought. The group was experienced, and as Sylen they’d seen strange things before. None of the four were neophyte explorers, and had come prepared for this journey when the Quest had popped up on Ravhen’s Status. A Quest directly from Eyssa was bound to lead to something unusual, and they all knew it.

  Ravhen sighed and tilted his head at Achen. “Did you see any trails, or should we attempt to head straight for it?” There was no question of going toward the tower versus avoiding it. When given a Quest to explore, a [Lore Finder] would never consider leaving a strange location unsurveyed.

  “Nothing.” The scout gestured toward the tower. “But neither did I see any large creatures. If there are monsters, they aren’t giants, here. Be wary.”

  It wasn’t long before they found their first monster… and it certainly wasn’t what was expected.

  Midday on their second day in the strange forest, Achen had smelled blood. This put all four of the elves on a guarded alert, picking their way through the brush as quietly as possible. Achen stuck to the trees, though the canopy kept her from spotting anything in the distance. In the event of an attack, such as position helped keep the options open, and was standard behavior for the skilled huntress.

  It was Ravhen that noticed the creature first, strangely. This was only because he felt the vague tickle of Entropic mana gently caress his Mana Sense. He was barely considered a caster, but Entropic mana was one of the two he was particularly sensitive to. The [Survivor] class was generally viewed as too nonspecific to be useful to most, but as a second Primary for a [Lore Finder] in a small group, it let him be a reasonable backup to almost everyone.

  Now it was telling him that death was near.

  He sniffed, and sensed Fisska had stiffened behind him. As a true caster, Fisska had picked up the subtle change moments after Ravhen, and their dual tension was immediately noticed by the other half of their small group. Achen leapt ahead to the next tree, leaves rustling only slightly…

  The quiet trilling noise she gave let Ravhen and the others know that it was safe to approach, but to be quiet about it.

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  Advancing forward found some of the undergrowth trampled and broken, along with a claw mark that nearly sliced a young tree in two. Spatters of blood streaked leaves and bark. And finally, the odor of blood became so strong it was thick with the tickling scent of scavengers starting to arrive.

  “Freshly dead,” Achen whispered as she dropped from the tree above. The predator was about half the size of an elf, but thick and stocky, with armored plates along its back and shoulders to protect the vitals. A narrow snout had been filled with sharp grasping teeth, meant to hold prey while the vicious claws on the front legs could disembowel it.

  The snout wasn’t complete. Something heavy had hit it from the side and shattered it, along with dislocating it and knocking out several teeth. The impact hadn’t likely killed the thing immediately, but it had knocked it out and blood loss had probably finished the job.

  “Look.” Fisska pointed, shuffling to the side to nudge something out from between two roots. Veysen narrowed his eyes while Ravhen’s tail twitched, both catching the meaning of the broken tree branch.

  Frost rimmed the claws of the monster, still exuding trace Aqua and Cruxis mana. Much more frost damage was evident on the snapped end of the makeshift club, while the other end was splattered with the blood from the monster’s injury. A fallen branch used to drive off and kill the predator, leaving a trail of blood and trampled vegetation in the desperate escape.

  “Someone is already here…?” Veysen muttered the question in confusion, his tail swaying in slow deliberation over the idea. It seemed implausible, but the evidence was right there.

  Ravhen tilted his ears down in a negative gesture. “Not for very long. They used a branch from the ground, not any kind of weapon. I’m not sure what that means, but they can’t be another explorer.”

  “Unless their spear was already broken.” That supposition came from Achen, but even she sounded doubtful. Without a spear, a knife would be used. If someone was deprived of both… then that left few good scenarios that any of the four could think of.

  Achen gripped her spear and ducked low to the ground, moving ahead of the others as she followed the blood trail. This time, she vanished into the undergrowth with no sound at all, using some of her abilities to muffle the noise. Ravhen and the others followed only cautiously, at first.

  Yet it was not long before Achen called out from ahead, “Come quickly! You need to see this!”

  Ravhen glanced at the other two, confusion in his eyes, but gave up stealth as he rushed through the undergrowth. The excitement was strange… a tone of urgency, but also something else.

  Achen’s hand stopped Ravhen from tumbling right into the strange creature that she’d found. Ravhen had to stop short and stare as well, because it was clear why Achen had been so excited.

  This was not an elf.

  The other two, Fisska and Veysen, stopped just behind Ravhen to stare as well. The creature was smaller than an elf, but not by much… yet it looked much lighter, more delicate. Rich, black plumage turned into vivid purples and blues, and a few red accents touched the tips of the bird-like creature. It had a short, sharp beak and hooklike thumbs on the ends of its wings, but the feet were much different from a normal bird’s.

  The talons weren’t like the talons of other birds. Two of the digits – one forward and the one in back – were still long and curled sharply, but only the forward-facing of the two had a sharp claw. The others, including the backward-facing one, were more plump and had what looked like retractable claws. Two of the three forward-facing digits had soft pads on the tip and looked eerily like fingers.

  Most importantly, the bird was still gripping the missing part of the branch. This part was covered in frost damage, and the foot-hand holding on to it had sickly grey skin, with a mottled red and purple in places. That limb was visibly swollen, especially where it held the branch.

  Feathers were matted with blood along one side, but the extent of that damage was hard to see thanks to a primitive wrap of uncured leather around the torso. It didn’t obstruct the wings, but it held a simple pouch. It also stunk badly, but Ravhen had smelled things that were far worse in his travels.

  “Should we help it?” Achen asked uncertainly. “It looks to be dying. And in pain.”

  Ravhen swayed his tail. He knew the potential danger here, but Achen was right. “I’d want it to help me. It’s obviously not just an animal… look at what it’s wearing. If we help it, maybe we can learn something. You have a translation spell, right Fisska?”

  Fisska was already moving toward the bird, and didn’t answer at first. “Hold it down, fixing that foot will hurt. I’ll try to treat the other injuries first. Give it some water, maybe it will realize we’re not trying to hurt it.”

  As the healer of the group, what Fisska said in these situations was not questioned. Achen gently took hold of the wings, while Veysen grappled hands on both legs, keeping a firm hold. Ravhen unslung his waterskin and tucked a hand under the beak, just in case it snapped at him, to turn the head up and to the side.

  The eyes of the bird blinked blearily, but it didn’t resist. Perhaps it had become resigned with death, or perhaps it was too exhausted to fight back. Ravhen neither knew nor cared. He just didn’t want to lose a finger as he guided the beak to open with a light pressure on either side. Water trickled into the bird’s throat, bringing a small spasm to it, and a short, sharp coughing noise.

  Fisska used some of his water to clean the wound on the side, then the bird shuddered as his fingers played over the injured side, knitting together flesh and possibly bone. Healing like this could get very energy-intensive, but the local mana was well-suited for it.

  It only became a problem when Fisska moved to the injured foot-hand. Veysen held it steady as the healing began, bringing color and warmth back to the half-frozen limb. Ravhen shuddered as a distant memory from a past life flashed through his mind. An older self, screaming as sensation returned to the nearly-dead limb. He was glad memories like that didn’t include the sensation. He could remember it hurt, but not the pain itself.

  Predictably, the bird screeched loudly and bucked in Achen’s grip. Ravhen placed one hand on the feathered chest, the other gripping just behind the beak so it couldn’t peck or bite. It thrashed about, colorful feathers drifting free from the puckered scar in its side, while Fisska worked quickly to restore the damaged foot before Entropic mana could begin eating away at it.

  Fisska worked quickly, and stood to step back as soon as he was finished. He was breathing hard… the wounds had been deep, and curing a freeze required focus and precision. Fisska was good, but he wouldn’t have been able to help once the flesh was truly dead. They’d made it in time to keep the bird’s foot intact.

  A few random jerks and kicks spasmed through the creature, but then it stilled. Eyes looked about wildly, while chest heaved. Ravhen could feel the heartbeat as almost a flutter, it was so fast. But the strange bird was calming and relaxing, its cries quiet now.

  Slowly, everyone let go and rose, stepping back so as not to alarm the strange beast. It was still weakened, so a panicked attack could happen if it wasn’t smart enough to realize they had helped it and meant it no harm. Even animals tended to realize that much, though, so Ravhen thought it more likely it would try to run.

  “Do you want more water?” Fisska asked, lifting the waterskin. “Water?” He shook it, letting the bird creature hear the liquid sloshing around. Veysen gave her a skeptical look, but Ravhen knew it was mostly for Fisska to feel better.

  The bird blinked, looking at the waterskin and rising to its strange feet. It wobbled unsteadily on the injured one, but it was finally able to release the frozen grip it had held on to the branch with.

  None of the group expected what it did next.

  In a clear voice exactly like Fisska’s, it chirped, “Water?”

  Plume