The Mother of Monsters

Teyva-or rather-Ianna raced between the trees, darting beneath low hanging branches and over raised roots. The wind whistled past her ears as her eyes took in her surroundings. It was still something to get used to, not having a much wider peripheral vision without her other eyes. If anything, it just made her appreciate her true form more. The magnificent powers at her disposal locked away for the time being so she could enjoy the ‘game’ as the others from Earth did. She snapped a hand up and grabbed hold of a particularly sturdy looking branch, pulling herself up with a flip and landing on her feet as she rounded on her pursuer.

“Reminds me of the wolf chase, back when we first met,” She called as Azrael darted past her, kicking off one tree after another to get to an elevated position. She raised her hand up and a [Palel Bolt] formed over it, the negligible mana expenditure would regenerate almost as fast as she had cast it. She flicked her hand out and sent the pale light flying, the chilling bolt of raw death crashing into the wightling as it leaped from the brush just meters behind them, waving its spear and shrieking in its usual frantic and incoherent babble. The bolt struck it in the chest and it was sent to the ground, twitching and writhing as the effects of [Chilling Weakness] took hold.

Azrael snorted out a chuckle, “I seem to remember you wrestling a wolf to the ground at one point,” She said, “Like a barbarian,” She added as she tossed a knife into the brush that the first wightling had come out of. A tiny shriek of pain followed the attack followed by a sudden stillness. 

Ianna rolled her eyes, “I used [Chill Touch]! [Chill Touch]!” She corrected, “I’m not an animal!”

“Uhuh, sure,” Azrael snickered and pushed off her branch, the air beneath her whirled for a moment as the woman muttered something and she landed lightly next to her sister. She glanced around, ignoring the first Wightling as it continued to writhe under the horrible affliction wrought by Ianna’s attack, “And where do you think the others have gone off to? Shouldn’t we stay together?”

Ianna shrugged and scratched at her neck before gesturing to the Wightling. From beneath the tree where they’d been standing a large shadow darted out. What appeared to be a panther in size and bulk landed on the helpless creature and drove its clawed paw down onto its neck before tearing down. The creature let out a gurgling shriek and dissolved into a puddle of corruptive ichor. Ianna squatted and twiddled her fingers at Nephral, “How’s that body working for you, big man?”

Nephral whipped his tail and turned around to look up at her with gleaming yellow eyes, “It is sufficient, I still protest my lack of wings.”

“It’ll do for now,” Ianna said and glanced up at Azrael who gave her an impatient look, “I’m sure they’re fine!” She laughed, “Miranda’s with them. We just gotta catch up,” She said and nodded to Nephral, “Can you lead the way, dear?”

The big cat inclined his head, “Why of course,” He said magnanimously before trotting off towards the south, “if you would follow me, ladies?” He said and leaped into the trees.

Azrael chuckled, “He’s getting better at talking like that.”

“Must be all the wooing he did over the past year,” Ianna joked and hopped down from the tree to follow him, “I hear he sired a few kittens during our downtime.”

“You’re joking,” Azral gasped, aghast.

“I am not deaf, ladies!” Nephral called from the trees. The two women looked at one another and laughed before hurrying off to join him. 

–

Mack whirled and snapped out a kick, catching the freakish thing in the center of its bony mask and sending it to the ground. The wretched monster scrambled back and waved its spear around frantically, babbling something as it threw itself at him again. What is wrong with these things? It’s like they don’t have any concept of self-preservation! He thought, drawing his sword quickly and swinging up at it. He caught it on the side of the head, pouring a small amount of mana into a [Luminous Strike] that to his shock carved right through the side of its head. It didn’t even have time to scream as it dropped to the ground and dissolved into a puddle of stinking muck.

“What are these things?” He shouted, unwilling to pull his journal out and identify them while there were so many.

“Wightlings,” Miranda called back to him as she whipped her hand up and the ground beneath another one of the insane creatures froze, its lower half all the way up to its torso froze over and it snapped in half, dissolving as well, “They’re summoned by General Akos, he keeps them all over the forest to keep an eye on things.”

A low hum followed by a ‘whomph’ of almost noiseless pressure crashing into a third wightling precluded Delilah stepping out from behind a tree with both hands up and a little bit of sweat beading on her brow, “They’re awful! We didn’t see any of them during the trip to Osan.”

“Usually he just has them watch things, they only start attacking when he’s on the hunt,” Miranda explained as Mack walked over to her, glancing back at the pool of ichor. “They’re not truly living things, just manifestations of a corruption that used to plague the forest. Now they protect it, in a way.”

“Plague?” Mack asked, scanning their surroundings for another one of the little nightmares and letting out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see or hear anything immediately.

“Yes, plague,” Miranda said, “Before a year ago, the green sea was borderline impassible and impossible to settle in, wightlings were everywhere at night and raided any camp that got too big. They’d drag corpses back to their barrow to rot and ferment, turning into the ichor that birthed more of them.”

Delilah frowned, “I thought they smelled like crude oil,” She said and rubbed her nose, “They’re sensitive to heat and light then?”

“Quite so,” Miranda said and gave Mack an approving smile, “Mack here will come in handy as we make our way across. I doubt this is the last we have seen of them. They are General Akos’ eyes, he will send more to test us before the day is done.”

Mack set his jaw and scanned the trees again, “I’ll be ready.”

SREEEEIIKKK GRGNNGLLRRGLBRRGG

The sound sent a chill up Mack’s spine and he whirled, taking a step back towards the others as a shape pushed its way through the trees. More rustling followed and tiny psychotic shouts and cackles echoed the manic creature that reached out to dig unholy bony fingers into the nearest tree. Its body was tall and lanky, covered in ooze, rotting flesh, and held up by a pearly-white skeleton. Its head was adorned with what looked like the skull of a large bird. Instead of two eye sockets, there were three. The third looked like it had been bored in with some sort of tool.

“Damn it Conrad,” Miranda hissed, “A madcaller, so soon?” She turned her head quickly, “Don’t stand still!” She shouted, but Mack barely heard her. Instead, Mack felt his stomach bottom out and his leg tremble. All the good humor and confidence evaporated as three red-yellow eyes swiveled in all directions before shifting to focus on him. He opened his mouth only to be cut off as the sensation of falling overtook him.

The next thing he knew he was on the ground on the other side of the small opening in the trees that they’d found themselves in. He blinked, disoriented, as an ache permeated every inch of his body. It was like he had been chilled to the bone and warmed back up immediately, leaving his muscles exhausted by the sudden strain. He shook his head, his thoughts cloudy as someone shouted something nearby. He blinked and tried to pull his head up, his skull pounding, and met the yellow-red eyes of a wightling standing over him. It blurbled something nonsensical and raised its spear.

“Shit!” He gasped and released his [Halo], pushing out a bit with [Control Presence]. He felt his mana dip then stabilize, the glow slamming into the creature and causing its oil-slick skin to ignite. It let out a shriek and stumbled back as he scrambled to his feet. He reached for his sword and blinked, Where- he whipped his head around, spotting Miranda engaged with the tall one while Delilah shot off another concussive bolt at one of the minions scrambling around in search of an opening. Just past them he saw the metallic gleam of his sword.

He groaned and forced his aching body to move, changing towards it and past the bewildered monster. 

This is not off to a good start!