The domain being open meant I was free to hunt.
Amaya stood at the threshold, bruising in deep blues, violets, and reds through the waxy white skin of her damaged shoulder. Her alabaster form against the black mirror of the domain lit by something deep inside. My blood no longer lapped in soft ripples against the threshold, but I could feel it deep within. Invisible, the barrier parted like soft flesh as she dragged herself inside.
Good. Whatever ritual the domain enforced, it seemed to acknowledge the coven. The black curtain parting revealed a much deeper cavern, but it would have to wait. Already my hunger was gnawing at my bones. My wound closed around Amaya's herbs, and a warm heat seeped through the limb as it became whole, then limber. Forget.
Amaya's words rang through me. A formless loss. Cliff's anger. What did we remember?
The tunnel Cliff had retreated though lay wide, the dust of the red stone still being tossed in drafts too gentle to feel on my thick hide. I stepped forward, as if to pursue, but I couldn't bring myself to carry on. What we had to live with in our memories would be our private torture. Each to suffer through in our own way. I looked as deep as the dull light would allow, but I saw nothing. I turned away.
The hunger remained.
The chasm, much the same as it was before, was wide and silent. The ferns rattled against my slow prowl, the sound of loam and earth depressing under my feet. begged to fall into the shadow. The light, from its unseen source, wove unsteadily across the scarred surface.
The decaying pigman bodies lay rotting. Untouched.
The prey were gone.
Only the rough trough of cloven tracks marked the passage of the boars. The siege was very real, even if the boar's hadn't stayed to see the job through. To get stronger, to survive, I'd have to go up. The chasm was too wide to retreat if I was caught out on a hunt. The shadows of the fissure remained, and they frightened me more than the boars. The open tunnels that wove through the chasm face were the only place to look for easy prey. The boar's looked dangerous, but it seemed that scaling the rock face was beyond them.
The work was slow, one careful step after another digging as deep as I dared into the rock. As I grew in strength, it seemed soft, pliable. Fragile. So easy to crumble, fading into sand, sliding and pulling me down to the rock below. Already I could see how the exposed stone at the walls base was sharper, fresh rock having sloughed away into jagged triangles as the tunnels above gave out under their own weight.
Once again I wished for the nimble scaling of my first form. It's weakness seemed so forgivable in exchange for that one simple thing.
I had climbed high enough that sound had begun to lose the echo from the chasm floor when it struck. Large talons dug deep and ripped out the flesh above my rib. I spun wildly, a single hand still gripping into the stone, claws raking down in a scramble to gain purchase. The chasm spread out beneath me as the world shifted. Where was it?
There.
A shimmer in the sky before another attack came in. Up! The demon shrieked as it collided, stone shearing off and tumbling into the sharp stone teeth below. As it hit, the illusion broke, and I was able to see familiar fleshy wings, and a grotesque eyeless face. A Silent Maw? Too large, too fast. The veil returned.
Up!
I was so close to a tunnel entrance. Would a leap make it? I could or die. The cliff was becoming sandy under the frantic movements. Just one piece of solid rock and I'd be able to... My foot caught on a firm stone. First air, then nothing.
Then the lip of the tunnel.
The thing crawled up after me, screaming unseen, marked only by the gouges it tore in its passage. It was large, larger than I was. It was fast. Faster than I was. My legs flailed, pulling loose the support for the very ledge I clung to life. The hot air of the demons breath huffed on empty air as I crossed into the threshold of the tunnel.
Still it pursued, digging into the opening. In a frustrated howl, it cast off its cloak and for the first time I could stare at it's gross imperfection. The white fat of its pale hide was marbled with wide crimson bulges, scars where the bone that stretched taunt to wing had pulled too tight. its neck was thick, and rippled in on itself like a maggot, searching for food. In the brilliant red of its crimson mouth, sharp needles undulated inward to its distended gullet.
[Demon Examination: Other]
[Tier: Lesser Form]
[Caste: Parasite]
[Morphology: Marbled Stalker Winged Maw]
[Stats: Unknown]
[Skills: Unknown]
The gaping wound stung across my back as I drew breath. It hadn't just been going for the kill. The monster had tried to latch on so it could burrow through my hide and deep into the soft flesh of my organs. How many of them were there? The Silent Maw's had traveled in colonies, as terrible in number as in hunger.
This one had made a fatal mistake, abandoning its skill. Filling the tunnel entrance, it blocked the light.
The shadows enveloped me as I slipped inside, cool and familiar on my open wound. My venom pooled in excitement, sac's becoming thin and transparent. The sky was their element, but we had entered mine. I leapt for its underbelly, as its long neck extended towards the heat of where I had been. The soft flesh parted easily, rewarding me with the rich steam of offal and meat. The Maw screamed again, a tortured sound, and sprung to the air, its entrails dripping beneath it. It's calls joined by others as it fled, and I retreated into darkness.
Like its infant form, it seemed they would not be found alone.
As I retreated into the tunnel, I began to hear nothing. Not less, but the familiar aura from the first day on the ledge of the abyss. How long ago? Days. Moments. Time passed differently when hunger and death were your only scale. There was no night here, no sun or moon cresting across an open sky. Only exhaustion marked that existence was passing, second after second.
I prepared myself for the onslaught of Silent Maw, but they did not come.
The tunnel opened up, illuminated by small dots of white fungi and strung pouches of skin and slime. The light was dim, and didn't carry through the open space, but it was strong enough that I could see the wings and coiled fetal tail in each embryonic sac. They floated and wound in complete contentment, slumbering in their unnatural silence.
A nest.
The cavern ceiling had been lined with corpses, pigmen and occasionally lizards. The fungi had grown thick over them, binding them to the stone and from their innards dangled the strings of eggs, a rich vein of blood pulling nutrients from the bodies.
How many were there? Enough. Enough to kill a lone Cliff Wraith. Enough to scour the chasm of souls. My hide crawled, and I fought the temptation to flee into the shadows. I had no mana to spare, and no quick retreat to the domain. The only way out, if all hell broke loose, would be through. The lower floor of the cavern was slick, and I made my way carefully, clinging to the edge and the few precious shadows, deeper darkness in the soft light.
As I worked deeper through the cavern, the shadows deepened and I grew more sure of myself. The constant drip of fluid from the fungi, rot, and eggs had created pillars beneath them, shadows cast in all directions as the irregular light worked its way through them.
I grew confident when a heavy motion drew my attention to the dark center. The fungi didn't grow there at all. The shapes were only given form by the glisten of heaving bodies. Marbled Maw. Dozens of them hung together like overripe fruit, wings scuffling for position. None stirred. Hell, it seemed, was content to stay in slumber. Only the silence and I bore witness as I moved along the outer reaches, death at rest on all sides.
The motion of the air, rising past me, was my first sign of another exit.
The gap was narrow. Too narrow, I thought, for anything more than a shadow. it led down, and I could see the dull red of another tunnel. At this far corner, the brood had been neglected. The fungi didn't bond as strongly to the stone. Bodies were pulling away, and the eggs hung low.
Still, they stirred with life. And I was hungry.
I had gained nothing from the cliff huggers that had died before leaving their cocoons, but these silent maw were very much vital and stirring. Cautiously, I extended my stinger, and pierced deep into one of the sacs, flooding it with venom.
The shroud of silence dropped and all the sounds of hell screamed at once.