Lod felt cold water wash against his face, running along his contours, purging the blood and dust. He laid there, allowing the rain water douse him, trying to pull himself from this horrible dream. His body was rejuvenated, and he felt like an entirely new person. He couldn't shake the blue glow of the system beside his face.
Glancing, he read it from time to time. The images of the minotaur's oppressive body kept flashing in his eyes, and he felt pain in his chest, feeling how it robbed him of his air, and how easily he was played around with. It had towered over him. He felt numb from it all.
When he wasn't glancing at the system he gazed deeply into the eyes of his mutilated friends. Their heads laid in such a way that it surrounded him. He was torn on the altar, his body was a gift, their heads were a tribute to him. He felt a power choke in his throat, leaning on his elbows, at the feet of the altar was Tristine's head. He could recognize her.
There was a dent to her head, and it was mangled beyond all belief. The power he had felt and dreamt of for so long now was right in his hand, torturing his eyes, and running through his arms. The eerie bluish glow of the system next to him proved it. He felt numb because of it, as if the power had robbed him instead of giving him strength.
Was it an illusion? Lod caught a glimpse of the gray sky above him, seeing streaks of lightning before hearing the thunderous clash of it. It was close, and he heard the crashing of trees nearby. It was supposed to be a dry day today, he thought. It was dry in the jungle when he first came. Then there was a silent calm to it, only hearing the pitter patters of the rain.
Nothing could bring them back, a plague descended onto his mind, the forlorn was a drop in its pond. The power he felt stuck in his throat, came out in a single sob, hands reaching, grabbing and pulling the fallen decapitated head into his lap. He hugged it hard against his stomach, feeling the rain crash onto him colder than before, and the only warmth he could've felt was the cold glow of the system glare against his face.
To bring them back would cost a fortune, and looking at all of their faces, he couldn't afford to pay it, his life would be the only thing to bring them back. He grabbed his bloody pendant, twisting it to his lips, he kissed it, and looked to the sky. Hoping that god could answer his prayer.
See the bloody carnage around their faithful, see their suffering, but he already knew, the imperial gods had no favor to give to him. The forest god had favored him instead.
…
Baun caught a glimpse of trees, twisted harshly into feral pikes, before being dragged past them and the harshness of the cold ground became grating as feral stone twisted before him, running and sliding into crooked spikes.
Most things looked alive, though they also looked dead, unmoving but also moving around at the same time, writhing like stone snakes. The journey to what he now knew to be the Minotaur's hideout was treacherous, and he expected the actual place to be treacherous, he was right. The moving stones and trees only formed the outside nightmarish macabre of its hideout. It was a part of the forest, that was for sure, he had only watched the minotaur walk through the forest, the change in environment was sudden, as if there was a line drawn.
Then the macabre swelled, the trees weren't gray or brown, they were pitch black. The foliage was bare with only thin spikes as branches. Moving in deeper there was moving stone, and small creatures rushing in between trees. He heard minor sounds of fighting the times he fell in and out of consciousness. He saw the minotaur covered in more blood, each time he saw his vision faded in and fade out.
By the time they had stopped moving, the minotaur was drenched in it, and he suspected that he was as well. The minotaur was gentle in dealing with him the entire time, then it tossed him harshly on the stone floor. He did not see the entrance to the cave, and he didn't wish he did, because as his eyes opened a frightening chilling cold stabbed his skin.
His fading in and out of consciousness faded and he was bolted awake. Baun was used to the cold, but this was freezing, his entire body shook feverishly failing to warm him.
From the ground, Baun saw the guardsman Koat struggling to get to his feet, failing and chattering his teeth. Baun found little leverage, and staggered to his feet, his big frame protecting him a little bit more than his smaller friend. "The Minotaur." He chattered. "Where did it go?"
Koat's cloak was robbed from him, and when he turned his head to talk. He was robbed of his breath. "You– Look fine!" He rasped. He held out his hand, and Baun took him in closer. "The Minotaur's outside. You don't seem to be injured harshly, and I was pretty sure you got thrown to the ground by that thing."
"You got thrown as well." Baun paused as he heard fighting outside.
"It's been killing those things in the forest for awhile now…" Koat whispered.
"Why?" Baun asked.
Koat shook his head. "They've been throwing themselves at him."
Baun slowly stood up, abandoning Koat. "Then can we run?"
Baun held the least bit of misguided hope. He had to escape, he couldn't allow the minotaur to come back and play with him. The best he knew of the minotaur was its sharp carnivore teeth; they could be held here as food. The coldness of the air made it feel like he was trying to preserve them.
Koat shivered against his hands, finally standing to his feet. "That's a fool's errand. It'll kill you the moment you show your face."
"So what? You want to wait around and let the beast come here and eat us!" Baun yelled, the heat of his anger made him feel better.
"You're wasting your breath." Koat said. "I'm saying that because I saw it fight. You should've seen it fight too."
Koat's arrogance was annoying. Baun wanted to yell more, but the strong beating of hooves shushed him. Koat was right too. The fight with the minotaur told him everything. The minotaur was big, but fast, with explosive pangs of violence. He half suspected that the minotaur could've killed them the moment they saw him, but didn't. It was only a suspicion. But the thought sent shivers down his spine. It had decided to do something else with them and fear gripped him, it wouldn't be anything good.
The sound faded. The coldness only grew. Koat coughed, and his gaze suddenly focused intensely on Baun. "You hate me." He said, "I saved you twice and you still hate me." Koat threw his weight against a wall, and bent low to the ground.
Baun didn't lie. "I don't wanna be resentful."
"I know I was your guardsmen. I expect to be feared by criminals. But I think saving someone twice would change your perspective, I'm not disappointed, I'm more curious than anything else. Why do you hate me? I don't remember doing anything to hurt you." Koat tried to keep his voice even but sometimes he would shiver between words.
"It's kind of hard not to hate you."
"What do you mean?" Koat said.
Baun whispered. "I also owe you warriors so much that I won't be able to make up for it. So that's why I hate you. I owe you too damn much not to hate you." Baun felt a small bit of heat gather up in his chest, the coldness of the place was harsh, but the longer he endured the searing burn of it, the more it lessened, unnaturally.
Koat blinked at him. "You're not making any sense."
"I was alive for the shaman's warrior ceremony. I saw everyone get lined up and chosen. It was a privilege to see it. I hoped I was going to become a warrior, I was big, stronger than an adult by that point, I looked like a warrior. I was going to be a warrior…"
"You didn't get chosen so that's why you hate us warriors?"
"Chosen every two decades among the children. I thought it was a mythical ceremony at that point, the gods ordained it so."
"What?" Koat didn't follow.
"The gods don't ordain a rat's ass." Baun cursed.
Koat furrowed his brow, feeling fire traveling up his throat. "The gods choose who they chose."
"That's what I thought too until I saw the shaman accepting bribes. I should've shut my mouth…"
"You're lying."
"That's why my parents died." Baun whispered, and the feeling of the cold intensified.