Rampage, page 17
part #1 of Land of the Elementals Series
“I’ll distract the beast and you strike it from behind. Sound good?”
He waited for her to nod before dashing toward the giant jaguar, taking its attention off the unconscious Hord. As he ran, he could see that Hord had somehow managed to bloody the beast’s head a bit, but that seemed only to enrage the creature instead of putting it down.
Arbor nimbly dodged a swipe from its claws as it closed with him and he darted forward, jabbing the spiked end of his glaive at its eyes and nose. He quickly pulled it back, as the beast snapped its jaws at the offending weapon.
Arbor spun the weapon and pumped magic down the streams in his arms. The blade came abound in a blur, too fast for the cat to dodge, and neatly sliced across its nose, drawing a line of blood. He was thrilled when the beast let out a howl of pain as the blade cut into it, thinking that he now had a real chance at success.
His happiness was short-lived, however, when the beast swiped back and he foolishly tried to block the attack, thinking his strength would be enough. What he forgot was that his blade wasn’t nearly as strong as he was. The Roc-Jaguar’s razor-sharp claws sliced through the blade as it if were made of paper, the blade falling to the ground in four neatly sliced sections, leaving Arbor holding a four-foot pole with a metal spike at the end. He stared in shock for a second, then quickly danced back, narrowly avoiding another swipe of its massive claws.
Arbor was extremely saddened at the loss. His glaive, the weapon he’d had since leaving his hometown, was now little more than an ironbound pole with a pointy end.
The creature slunk forward, teeth bared in a hateful growl and its eyes glowing malevolently. Arbor tried to step back, but the Roc-Jaguar roared again, using some of its vast stores of magic. Arbor felt the ground beneath his feet give out, and he sank up to his knees into the solid stone.
The beast pounced on him then, and Arbor quickly pushed the broken-off glaive haft between them in an attempt to stave it off. The monster’s front paws landed on it, dropping its entire weight on him, its claws extending, but not quite reaching him. Arbor grunted and flooded his arms with magic, holding the beast’s immense weight off himself, but he could already feel his body straining.
There was no way he’d be able to hold out for long. If he was at the next Tier, perhaps, but he wasn’t quite there just yet. All his hope now lay in his gremlin companion. He just hoped she would be strong enough to take the beast down.
Grak could see that Arbor was in trouble and knew that she had to act immediately. She could feel her magic now, pulsing slowly through her. She had never dreamed that she, a weak and ostracized gremlin, would one day wield magic.
This was yet another thing Arbor had done for her. Her slowly budding attraction towards the handsome and sober man had turned to full-blown infatuation after what he’d just done. But all the same, she was becoming a little annoyed at how much she owed him already. How would she be able to repay this?
She shook herself from her thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.
Now was not the time to be thinking about this. She needed to concentrate and help him. Otherwise, she’d never get to tell him how she felt. Thanks to him, she now had power, and she would no longer be forced to watch from the side as others fought her battles. Arbor had saved her life on so many occasions. Maybe this time she could save his. That would be a great way to start evening the score and perhaps get him to cheer up a bit, or maybe even see her in a romantic light.
With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and concentrated on finding the source of her magic.
She remembered what Arbor had told her about magic, about having to feel for the streams coming from her center. But despite feeling the power, she couldn’t locate her Core, no matter how hard she looked. She concentrated harder, thinking she was doing something wrong, searching for the glowing sphere with the five streams extending out.
Where is it?!
It came to her then, and she remembered what Arbor had said about different types of magic. Maybe hers was in a different spot?
She concentrated once more, scouring her body until… There it was! A small pulsing Core at the center of her spine. She didn’t see any streams coming off it, as Arbor had described his to have. Instead, the Core seemed to be sending pulses of energy up her spine and through her bones towards her hands. The power wasn’t moving to the rest of her body, only to her arms.
This entire process only took around ten seconds, but in that time, the beast’s body had grown noticeably closer to Arbor. Its claws already nicking his shoulder and drawing blood.
She growled long in her throat and started running towards the beast, thinking she understood now how to use her magic. She concentrated on her right hand, trying to make her Core pulse faster. She could feel the bones in her fingers growing icy cold as her power pulsed, and she grimaced at the unexpected pain.
Sharp icicles began to form over her fingers, making them claw-like, and the pain intensified. It felt like her bones were on fire. She pushed on, sprinting forward and leaping at the Roc-Jaguar’s back, letting out a wordless howl.
Slamming into the beast, she buried her icy claws into its hind leg and felt cold radiate out of them in a wave. She screamed in pain as her arm burned with the cold pulsing through the bone. It was almost unbearable. She’d never hurt so much in her entire life.
She wasn't the only one in pain.
The jaguar howled as its limb froze solid within a matter of seconds. It kicked its leg violently, dislodging Grak and sending her flying back, slamming into the opposite wall. But even as she lay there, gasping for breath, she could see that the damage had already been done.
The beast was bearing down on Arbor, its wickedly sharp teeth only inches from his face. His shoulders were bleeding profusely now, as the sharp claws tore into the skin and even his magically enhanced strength was failing, unable hold that kind of weight for so long.
Steam poured off his arms in waves, and he screamed in pain as his muscles tore themselves apart from the overuse of magic. He knew that they would be giving out any second now, and then the beast would kill him.
Just as his arms were about to give out, the beast gave out a roar of pain and jerked back. Its paws left the shaft of his weapon, and its claws retracted, leaving him free, albeit exhausted. The jaguar’s paws came back down on the ground with a thud, missing him by inches.
Arbor saw his opportunity and didn’t waste a second, flooding his already tortured arms with even more magic. Then, screaming in pain and defiance, he lunged upward, burying the spiked end of his glaive a full two feet into the eye of the Roc-Jaguar.
A shudder ran down the massive beast’s body as the shaft penetrated deep into its brain. Then, as though in slow motion, it crashed to the ground, its head landing on Arbor’s chest. He stared back into the beast’s uninjured eye for a full five seconds, feeling a sharp tugging at his center as his core expanded. He didn’t know how, but he’d managed to make it to the end.
Despite the pain he was in, he let out a whoop of joy. The beast was dead, and he’d finally made it to Tier 2!
22
Arbor felt more exhausted than he ever had before in his entire life. He lay under the Roc-Jaguar’s body, feeling his arms throbbing in pain. Despite his advancement to the next Tier, it seemed to have done nothing for his physical state.
When he decided that he’d spent enough time laying under the dead beast, he concentrated on the streams leading to his legs, flooding them with magic. After a few moments of work, he managed to free himself from the stone encasing them, pulling them out with a crack and a shower of rubble.
He got shakily to his feet, his arms hanging limply at his sides. The bleeding from the multiple lacerations the cat had inflicted were beginning to scab over, and seeing that he was in no immediate danger, he went over to check on Hord. Surprisingly enough, the dwarf appeared to be unharmed and began stirring after Arbor kicked him a few times.
The dwarf came to with a roar and launched himself at Arbor, who nimbly sidestepped the attack. Hord looked around wildly for a few more seconds, disoriented. His confusion cleared up when his eyes fell on the dead jaguar and a broad smile spread across his face.
He looked at Arbor, one eyebrow raised in an unasked question. Arbor simply nodded, and the dwarf let out a booming laugh that echoed off the cave walls.
“Killed that bastard right and good!” he boomed, seeming not even to have noticed the multitude of bruises covering his body.
Arbor went over to check on Grak next. She was sitting with her back against one of the walls, grimacing in obvious discomfort. She looked up as he approached and gave him a pained smile.
“You did it,” she said, as he sat down next to her.
“No,” Arbor said, giving her a meaningful look. “We did it. I’m not sure what you did, but you managed to hurt the beast badly enough to give me a chance to kill it.”
Grak nodded, and then winced again.
Arbor noticed her hand then. Her body was shivering and her usually red skin had a blue tinge to it. What caught his attention most was her hand, which seemed to be missing a couple of fingers.
“Grak!” Arbor said in alarm, moving to examine the hand more closely.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying to force a smile. “The price of winning and all.”
“When did this happen? And what happened to your fingers?!”
“I used my magic to form ice onto my fingertips, but I didn’t really know what I was doing. I stabbed the jaguar in one of its hind legs and froze it, but it kicked me off.”
She grimaced again.
“The problem was that I froze my entire hand as well, and when I went flying back, two of my fingers cracked off. I think they’re still stuck in the jaguar’s leg.”
Arbor took Grak’s hand in his and examined it. Her second and third fingers were missing, and her entire hand was icy cold to the touch.
“Why is your hand so cold?” Arbor asked, concerned.
“I’m keeping it cold on purpose; otherwise the pain will be much worse,” Grak said through clenched teeth.
Arbor stared at the hand for a few long seconds, his mind racing. There had to be something he could do about this. She couldn’t go for the rest of her life without her fingers.
“I’ll be right back. I want to check on something,” he said, getting to his feet.
Grak just nodded and leaning her head back, she closed her eyes.
Arbor could feel his torn muscles and skin knitting itself back together as he approached the dead creature.
It was strange. His magic seemed to be a paradox. If he used too much, it would destroy him, but the moment he stopped, it would put him back together. And to top it all off, it would put him back, stronger than before.
He walked up to the massive hind legs of the jaguar, finding that one leg was indeed frozen solid. He marveled at what Grak had done mere moments after awakening her magic. She had paid a heavy price for using it though, but if he could find the fingers quickly enough, the price may not have to be permanent.
His eyes swept over the leg for a couple minutes, shifting the leg around until he finally found them. Two small, blue-tinged fingers were sticking out of the leg, and both were completely covered in ice. He carefully removed them from the leg, not wanting to cause any further damage. They were freezing cold to the touch as he carried them back, and he could soon feel them beginning to thaw.
Sitting down next to Grak, he shook her shoulder a few times as she’d started drifting off. This wasn’t good. She was keeping herself too cold and her body was beginning to shut down as a result.
“Grak, wake up,” he said, shaking her. “You have to release your magic. Otherwise, you’ll freeze to death.”
She blinked a few times, looking up at him in incomprehension. Her lips were tinged blue by now and she was shivering.
“You need to release your magic,” Arbor reiterated. “Your body is too cold!”
She looked at him for another few seconds as she tried to clear the fog of pain from her mind. With a shudder, she started to regain her natural red color and Arbor took her injured hand in his once again.
He wasn’t sure if he could reattach limbs, but he remembered his mother once telling him that if a finger was lost, it could still be reattached if done quickly enough. Holding the two severed fingers up to the stumps, he closed his eyes, feeling for the magic flowing through him. It seemed to be larger than before – a result of his advancement to the 2nd Tier – and he resolved to keep track and see if it was growing. There were many more streams flowing from the five main ones now, and smaller and smaller streams diverged off of them to form an intricate lattice work of magic pathways.
Arbor concentrated on the large streams to his hands and allowed the magic to flow down. He felt the familiar resistance, but forced it through, pushing his magic into Grak. He heard the expected gasp as his magic flowed into her and concentrated on where he could feel the greatest amount of pain.
He could see where the appendages had been severed, but he could feel that the nerves were all still alive. This would be very different than healing a cut or bruise. Those, he could feel. He couldn’t feel where the severed fingers were, as they were no longer attached to her body. This would make it a lot harder for him.
Taking a few deep breaths to steady his nerves, he moved flows of his magic into the stumps. He then allowed his magic to leak out from the empty spaces at the ends and hoped that this would do the trick. His head soon began pounding with the effort, and a blinding pain began to form behind his eyes. Despite the pain, he just gritted his teeth and pushed on. His recently healed arms began twinging once more as he increased the flow of magic through them.
Finally, after what felt like ages, he began to feel a faint connection to the two missing fingers. The feeling became stronger as the time crawled by, and finally, he could fully sense them. He felt the thrill of success when his magic fully knitted the fingers back to her hand, and the nerves, bones, and tendons stitched themselves together.
He released his magic and felt the strain that had been building in his arms fall away. They still throbbed in pain when he opened his eyes, but at least they’d stopped tearing themselves apart. His eyes then moved up Grak’s face, as he released her hand and allowed his arms to drop to his sides.
Her eyes were shining as she held it up, whole and unblemished. She flexed her fingers a few times, just to be sure she wasn’t dreaming. A huge smile lit up her face. She threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time.
“I can’t believe it! I thought I’d lost them forever! Thank you! Thank you!” she sobbed.
Arbor, for his part, accepted it. He was aware of what he had just done, and he was glad to have helped her once more.
“It looks like I owe you, yet again,” she said, pulling back with a small pout. “And I’d just evened the score by saving your life.”
“You don’t owe me anything. You are important to me, and if I have the power to help, I will.”
Grak’s face flushed a deep crimson, but she quickly covered it by sticking her tongue out at him.
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t just have your fingers reattached.”
Arbor just shook his head at her display.
“Is that any way for a lady to act?” he asked in mock annoyance.
“Who said anything about me be a lady?” she quipped.
Their banter was interrupted by Hord.
“Come over here. You’ll want to see this.”
He gave Grak an apologetic look, but she just waved him off.
“I’m fine. Go on. Go see what that lovely dwarf has to show you. And remind me to kill him for ruining a perfect moment.”
This last bit was muttered under her breath, so Arbor didn’t hear. As he approached the dwarf, who was on his knees before the dead monster, he could see that he’d been busy. He’d apparently cut all the claws out of the cat, as all sixteen were arranged on the floor before him.
“You cut out its claws?” Arbor asked.
“Indeed,” Hord said with a wide grin. “Not many know this, but the claws of Mythic Beasts are made of a very rare metal, and the claws of one of the five Mythic Cats are the rarest of all!”
His grin seemed to widen even more at this, and he rubbed his hands together in glee.
“How rare is this metal really?” Arbor asked as he stooped to lift one of the claws.
As soon as he lifted it, he noticed how light it was. Way lighter than any metal of this size should be, in fact. It had to be magic of some sort.
The metal was deep brown in color with swirls of a deep green streaked throughout. He found this quite curious, as the metal had been a silvery color when they were still attached to the jaguar. Arbor felt at the tip with one of his fingers and winced as a small bead of blood welled up almost immediately. Gingerly, he handed the claw back to Hord, who took it with obvious care.
“Why is the metal green and brown now? Wasn’t it a different color?” Arbor asked as he wiped his bleeding finger on his pant leg.
“The magic of the jaguar became infused in the claws once it was killed,” Hord said as he examined one of them. “It really is quite fascinating!”
Arbor found it quite amusing that the gruff dwarf was becoming so excited over a few pieces of metal.
“So, would it sell for a lot of money in a city?” Arbor wondered.
“Sell it?! Are you crazy? This metal is one of the rarest and most powerful on the face of the planet! Is there some part of that you didn’t understand?!” he asked, looking horrified at the very notion that he would want to sell it.
“No, I understood it just fine, but I have no use for it,” Arbor said with a shrug.
The dwarf shook his head, wondering if Arbor’s stupidity knew no bounds.
“This metal can be forged into the strongest magical weapons and armor in the world! I will not sell it!”
