The cave went quiet for a brief moment, but then a deafening scream erupted, scaring away the nearby wildlife. The shout, filled with rage and torture, lasted for over three minutes.
While violently shaking the soulless body, the pain from his broken arm combined with his cracked skull forced Mac to let go. His fingers arched in pain due to his uncontrolled strength.
Mac hastily breathed through his clenched teeth. "ENOUGH! It doesn't matter!" He told himself. "Stop fucking caring already."
He let himself fall to the ground as his legs gave away. Mac tried to clean his watery eyes, but the trembling of his fingers slowed the process. But it did not matter to him. He was just glad he had something to busy himself.
For a moment, once his eyes cleared, Mac noticed Luterio, or at least what rested of him. With a leg and an arm gone, now he also lacked a neck.
"What a mess... hehe." Mac tried to force a laugh. "Such a shame that I could not have plagued him more."
But the more he looked, the more Mac remembered. That cursed word, that dreadful surname, continuously banging on his head. He could not stay there much longer.
As quiet as a disturbed man craving for change could be, Mac forced his legs to get up. He went past Luterio, not sparing a single more look. He clumsily grabbed his war hammer from the ground and hurriedly increased his pace to the outside.
Mac was already feeling the warm sunlight when he tripped over one of the bodies of the guards he killed. He went the first face on the ground and painfully slid his way out of the cave.
The natural light shined on his body while the damaged skull crushed his mind. But despite the pain, Mac did not move. He judged the torture appropriate.
"It is just a word!" He bashed his head on the ground. "IT IS JUST A WORD!"
Dread and shame were the only sensations that rested when he became numb to pain. He could not even muster tears anymore. "When did I become... this?" His mouth did not move.
Oh, how great, he thought, would be if he died then and there. But no. His body was too strong for that, and his reason to live slightly overshadowed his desire to die. He either would have to face the ghosts of his past or live with that weight on his being.
Mac did not know how long he layed there, staring at nothing, waiting for nothing. Until a change happened. A movement on his oversized hair, similar to a bush nesting a bird. It was then that Arani crawled from there and swiftly entered Mac's eyesight.
The also oversized spider stared at Mac with its shiny eyes. The arachnid tried to reanimate its master with a variety of moves. First, it tried to tickle his nose with its long legs, but when that failed to bring a reaction, Arani formed a distance and headbutted Mac with a run. The attacks continued until the spider changed tactics. It suddenly started stumbling over as if the little bumps had stunned it. Finally, Arani gave an exaggerated jump and landed on its back with its eight eyes closed. The little pet would often throw furtive glances at Mac while still playing dead, searching for a change.
And that change finally came to fruition. Mac's eyes slowly but steadily recovered focus. Seeing Arani putting up an act to him forced a smile into his face.
"Heh, what are you doing, you little project of trauma?" He said. The small stimulus in his soul motivated him to sit up again.
Arani's curled legs spasmed straight with happiness and life. It awkwardly got back on its feet by rolling sideways and jumped astray with joy.
The spider's enthusiasm infected Mac as his frightening feelings lessened. But they were still there, like shadows in the darkness, waiting for the light to resurge.
With a sigh, Mac extended his arm for Arani to climb on. He controlled his phobia when he kissed the spider on the head. "Thank you for keeping me company for now and ever." He said.
Arani jolted in even more joy. It ran along Mac's whole arm in bliss and ended up rubbing its head on his fingers.
It had been a long time since Mac had praised his undying pet. He vowed to himself that he ought to do it more times, considering how loyal and helpful his hair guest had been.
Finally able to appreciate the sunlight, Mac recalled some joyful memories of Arani. While in the wild, traveling with hazy goals and a clouded mind, the spider was always there. Always at his side when his traumas resurged. A blessed curse, his phobia chained to his head was.
Mac woke up from his memories with fright when Arani hugged his face by jumping on it. The giant spider covered his entire face and was unwilling to let go that easily.
After recovering his calmness, Mac carefully picked the spider from his head. Luckily the little guy didn't have a powerful grip. Arani then turned to hug Mac's hand.
He wanted to get angry at Arani, but Mac realized he had a worse problem. His head started hurting again.
When the numbness dissolved, probably due to the shock, Mac started feeling the pain in his head again, but this time, it was worse. The regret he felt from his self-torture was almost on par with the pain.
Seemly understanding Mac's pain, Arani tried to help its master the only way it knew how: By distracting him. The spider jumped from his hand to his lap, looked around the invaders' encampment, and quickly found a solution.
With constant squeaks, the pain shared Mac's attention with Arani. With only one eye open, he followed where his spider was pointing. Mac saw the closest tent from the cave, realizing what Arani meant. "Luterio's tent!" He carefully remembered some of Luterio's words, avidly avoiding others. "There is where I will find their treasure."
With greed now occupying his mind, Mac stumbled towards the tent, with constant threats of slipping down the inclined landscape. The pain did not help with his composure, but he was stubborn enough to reach Luterio's place.
For the second in command, Luterio's was not that prominent up close. Even if it was more well cared for than the others, it was not by much. "I don't even know why I am surprised," Mac commented. "I mean, who in their right mind would set up tents on a steep terrain?"
Mac did not care for booby traps as he forced his way. Unsurprisingly, the inside reflected the outside. There was a lack of decorations, save for a pile of leaves that could be confused for a bed by birds, perhaps. But the epitome of laziness was reached when Mac realized that he wouldn't have to bury much to find his prize. From the bunch of leaves, he noticed a faint glow escaping.
"This fucker buried his worth almost as deep as I buried him!" Mac kicked the mess away, and there he saw the glimmer of a shiny goblet badly buried.
Arani, who had been trolling along with Mac, approached the tapestry and examined it close with one of its legs. The spider then turned to look at Mac. Its eight eyes perfectly reflected the incredulity Mac's also shared.
"And, to think, that for a moment I thought highly of Luterio," he was stunned once more when he realized how soft the excavated soil was. "They truly came from a place of warriors and only warriors."
Mac then proceeded to mine the earth with his right hand since his other arm was still pained. It was a dirty and disgraced task, definitively unfitting for the one that came out on top, but Mac still enjoyed it. Leisurely sitting inside the poorly set tent, with his unproblematic pet on his lap, he appreciated the small surprises with each new prize recovered. It was a different kind of enjoyment from the ones he got from battles and tortures, a rare one.
Disappointed, Mac soon noticed that the small surprises were over. There was not much loot for Mac to greed over, and if there was, it was much deeper underground. And for some reason, Mac seriously doubted Luterio would go the extra mile.
With better things to do, Mac still decided that laying on his loot was the best choice. "Hey, Arani." He said while he tried to get used to his horrible mattress made of riches. "Could you be a sweety and search for a bag for me to carry all this?"
Arani promptly jumped in front of Mac, ready to help. The most loyal of friends raised its front leg above its head, akin to a salute, and dashed outside.
Sparing a single eye to observe his forever faithful companion, Mac felt a tinge of shame that forced him to get up after Arani had already left. He felt guilty after seeing how happy his spider was to help, so he decided he might as well assort his loot accordingly. That was the least he could do.
Uncared and untagged, the spoils proved extremely hard to judge. Despite Mac's ability to evaluate someone's character with a look, his appraisal skill failed him. He hardly noticed the details in the tapestry, and even then, he could not confidently say from where they came. There was also a fair amount of golden silk. Unfortunately, he had genius enough to know that their value was depleted mainly due to Luterio's "care." He realized he had to leave this job to one of his more educated friends.
But Mac had already decided he could not take all the spoils to himself in a light mind. The people from the Sun Grow Tribe had lost their home, and who knows what more. No matter how hard he tried to rationalize it, he had a responsibility to them. Luckily, that was one of his less complicated troubles.
"But how should I split this now?" Mac tried to justify an ampler share for himself multiple times but always reached the same conclusion: He didn't really need the money. At least, he needed it way less than the homeless tribals. Again and again, his own conscience betrayed his desires. In the end, he settled for fifty-fifty.
Mac ended up with two different piles of loot, both of a similar size. He did his best to divide the worth equally, despite limited knowledge. He tried to fool himself into accepting the current sorting, but he eventually succumbed to his own goodwill. He picked the most valuable treasure from his pile (He believed) and blatantly threw it at the tribals' pile. Mac refused to bother with his good samaritan act and tried to forget the money he had just given away.
And as always, Arani came to save him from his own regrets. The not-so-little spider finally returned from its search, apparently successful. As oversized as Arani was, the arachnid could not bring the bag to Mac. The only thing it could do was lead him to it.
Mac gladly followed, leaving Luterio's tent and riding down the hill. He traversed almost the entire encampment until he reached the probably most eye-catching tent there. He assumed it was some sort of storage tent, where the small army guarded their essentials, like food and weapons. There were even two large wooden barrels beside the tent.
"Right at the edge of their hideout, far from Luterio and the cultivator's cave." Mac chuckled in disapproval. "Seriously, how did they survive this long?" Arani shrugged(?) in response.
Ignoring the wonder of a spider shrugging, Mac searched for two bags inside the storage tent in good condition while grabbing a random fruit to snack on on his way. He failed to find sacks in perfect condition, so he settled for stuffing multiple packs inside each other to make an adequate package. Mac was seriously wondering if he had actually stumbled over the garbage tent.
Leaving not entirely satisfied, he left the tent with a fruit in his mouth and two stuffed bags in his hand. Mac was slightly worried that the fruit could cause some disease, but he was confident in his own immune system. He was ready to return to his treasure, but his attention was diverted to Arani.
The spider acted wary of the casks, seemly repulsed. No smell or movement was coming from there, so Mac was left curious. What could be scaring something like Arani, he wondered.
Against Arani's best judgments, Mac opened one of the obviously poor-sealed casks open with ease. Inside he found only water. "Sea water!" He immediately noticed due to the color. "From the Crimson Coast!"
"But why is it here?" Mac tried to ponder for a moment. His pointless curiosity swarmed away when he lost himself in his redded reflection in the dyed water. And it was not due to his narcissistic tendencies.
It had been so long since he saw his reflection that he almost didn't recognize himself. The tired eyes which had seen too much, the scarred cheeks that had lost their color, and the furrowed browns that left a permanent mark on his forehead, so perfectly was his soul reflected. Mac's proud and bashful orange curly hair blended with the blood water, with only his imperfections to show. He felt sick in the stomach but could not look away.
Mac suddenly remembered why he came to the Sun Grow Tribe or at least the reason he told himself. To find a treatment for his predicament, so he could finally cultivate and step up in a new arc of his life. And right in front of him was a possible solution that, even if it did not cure his Small Orbis, would at least alleviate the pain from his arm and head. He had already traveled through the wild and battled a cultivator and his men. How hard could it be to take this last step?
With his hand grasping hard at the border of the bask and trembling legs, Mac finally found his resolve! The resolve to turn away from his perfect reflection and leave.
"It is about time, Arani!" Mac said difficulty with his back towards the crimson water. "Let's get the treasure and go back!"