Chereads / Beasts: Reborn (REVAMPED) / Chapter 38 - 38 FLAW

Chapter 38 - 38 FLAW

Wednesday Morning July 28th, 2240. End's Island of the greater Glorian Archipelago….

The gods stayed away from Claude for the following week. That, or his nightmares had gripped him too tightly to allow his usual ascent to the Astral Realm.

All he'd been seeing is wounded animals.

Birds with deformities. A missing wing— leaving them to hop through the woodland they should soar over.

Wolves with no nose. Blind to the prey that could save them from starvation less than a mile away.

Sharks with no gills. Drowning at birth.

All flawed.

All like him.

But while their disfigurements gave them death, he was given….. humanity?

It's a miracle. A gift.

But then, that means his parents harbor a curse worse than the end. Worse than death.

"No."

"No what?" Darius questioned from across their meeting table inside Neodrassil, the mages very own planning room doubling as a treehouse.

Claude looked up from his palms, unaware that he'd spoken aloud. The table of mages eyed him. All studious, thin, teens with jewels, wands and items that would usually be a hindrance in combat. He felt out of place among them. But there was a purpose.

"No nothing. I…. I was thinking out loud. My bad." Claude replied.

"That's fine. I do that all the time." Darius replied. His curly brown hair was flecked with streaks of silver, matching his eyes.

Naz looked to Claude, nodding for him to speak.

"Right. So….. In a couple of hours, the sixth-wave will be here. Me, Naz and Marion scouted the University and saw the newest supply drop being put together a few days ago by some upperclassmen. They tried to kill us after they saw….. nevermind. The purpose was to confirm our timeline. We'll intercept the new entrants— gain a new lineup of allies, and take down Samuel at the same time. Tai is next. His best ability is to support so we need to take out his allies."

"That's the plan?" Darius questioned, "You don't want to take over his island, so he comes back having to play by our terms with less resources? He's fought at Center-Island enough times to know the place with his eyes closed. He probably has items stored in the trees for his archers. Plus, you're forgetting people genuinely want to be with Samuel. Especially a sixth-waver. All they've been told is how weak they are. They're afraid. They'll fall in line."

Darius' fellow mages nodded in agreement with his points.

"Not if we show we're stronger." Claude said. "We have greater numbers, variety and the highest concentration of first-wavers."

"The waves don't matter, friend." Darius said, "We learned that from you."

"But they didn't learn that yet." Claude replied. "And I've fought Samuel more times than he's fought on Center-Island. I know him. I know him better than I know myself…."

"Well, then I'd like to know how well you know yourself? If you don't know yourself at all, that isn't saying much."

The words echoed in his mind, sounding like something else.

"Flaw….defect…. Deformed… damaged…. ripped…. Torn …. Clawed…. CLAUDE CLAUDE CLAUDE—"

"Are you always so nervous?" Carmen asked from beside Darius. Her curly black hair swayed around her shoulders as she slid a jungle berry past her plump purple glossed lips. Even in the darkness, her rosy pink skin glowed.

"Yes." Claude replied. "I have more details to the plan, but I feel like you guys are forgetting we're on a time limit." He knocked on the walls of the tree.

Neodrassil was so important as their planning room for two reasons. It was the largest tree and had the greatest defensive potential. Secondly, because the natural magics flowing inside disrupted the mana signatures of their uniforms. Making them invisible to other students. Most of them didn't wear uniforms. It hid their true numbers and locations on End-Island. But if they hid them all, it would be too obvious. Six nearby islands completely absent of any student? Foolish. So, the mages wore their uniforms under vine cloaks. It gave them a more professional feel.

But the magical disturbance came in waves.

Naz smiled. "We have thirty-five seconds left. You are all free here. But freedom comes with a price. Do you embrace the decadence that comes from inaction or do you move on your own principles and follow us into war?"

Darius looked to Carmen. Carmen kissed him on the cheek then looked to her other mages. Her hairless tail swayed as she awaited their answers.

"OH COME ON! Let's rock, shock-boy! I'll give you all the eel's you want. Let's see who can get the flashiest!"

"Brink. Your composure, buddy, find it." Darius shook his head as he fought down a laugh.

Brink glared at him, "What for? We're in the wild, man." His molasses gelled Mohawk gave him an extra few inches.

"Ten seconds."

Darius sighed, "I guess we are. And it will swallow us if we don't continue to cut a path towards surviving the next day. I'm in."

"Then so are the rest, force-mage." Naz replied.

The mages all nodded in agreement.

***

"That went better than last time." Naz said as they exited Neodrassil.

"It did. You once again have saved me." Claude announced.

"Oh yea?" Naz wrapped her arms around him, "How will you repay me?"

"I uhh…. I don't know. I have a silver coin?"

"Keep your coins. Give me strength."

"I can do that." He took Naz's hand and they continued to their next destination.

Colored fireballs marred the sky for a moment. Boar tusk horns rang across the island. In minutes the whole of their might was joined on the beaches at the back end of End-Island.

Claude and Naz stood on podiums made of freshly manipulated stone. Hand in hand.

"You may now kiss the bride!" Marion yelled from the crowd.

Everyone giggled.

Once they silenced, Naz squeezed Claude's hand a little tighter.

He got the gesture well enough. It didn't stop his knees from feeling like noodles.

"Uhm. A week ago we had a similar meeting. Naz said I didn't talk enough."

"You didn't."

"Thanks, boost-boy."

More giggles.

"I'll do more of that here— but I'll keep it brief. I owe you all more than I can give you. Almost two weeks ago I almost died. I got my ribs trashed by fish-men and then fell onto some poison... woke up here. You guys gave me clothes, food, warmth, and the experience I've been looking for since before I could walk. You're heroes. You're strong as hell. For that reason, I don't feel fear. But thats only if you're with me in liberating the enslaved students on these islands. I've spoken and even worked with some of you since first presenting the idea….."

From the crowd, Goren gave a curtsy bow like some noble princess in a castle. The movements were perfect. Only he was a teenage boy…. In armor. You got used to it.

Claude cleared his throat, finding his words— finding his voice, "But it's not enough. Samuel and Tai Leon are using their might and status as legacies to completely ruin what everyone can make of this place. Slaves? What the hell kind of message does that send. What does that mean for the next generation of heroes? I have no idea, but I don't like it. It's not reality. And I know that because someone I respect once told me, reality is what it seems, as long as you look with the right eyes."

Naz smiled as she looked down at her feet.

"I'm done looking with just these." Claude pointed to his eyes. "I'm working with this." He beat his chest. "That's infectious. That's the ideal. We can spread that if we free them. We can change this weird grim-dark status quo. Everyone can party— and sing and dance, and fend off the monsters as they come— we can build up the weak and learn from the strong. We can get more out of this."

"Hell yea! War!" Brink yelled before Carmen slapped him with her tail from the back of the crowd.

"A week ago I asked you all to consider. Now I'm asking that you make up your minds…. No, I'm asking you to join me. The sixth-wavers come today. They'll have no idea. Even heroes need saving sometimes."

"If you wish to join us, remain where you are. We'll gear up and head out shortly. If you wish to stay here and hide or wallow in your comfort, walk away now. I will judge you either way, but that is life. To be free is to be uncaring of judgement in your decisions. So be careless, but quick in your decision." Naz announced.

Ten students broke off from the crowd. Some laughed with other students as if Claude's speech were words spoken by a mad man. Others held looks of shame. Heads low as they shimmied past braver peers. Either way, none of them changed their minds.

Ten. No more, no less.

A big hit. Bigger than he would've thought.

Their numbers advantage wouldn't mean much if they took a big hit.

"I need to adjust my plan. I need to speak with the mages again." Claude thought.

But that would come at another time. Priorities.

It was time to get active.

"Everybody suit up!"

When Claude daydreamed about such moments back at the C.S Academy, his suit was unique. A real standout that represented him and his power perfectly. Something like RedVine's mask of Venus. Or Ronin's tactical collage of samurai armoring and ocean-lord accents.

That was the case on End-Island. He was unique— a standout on all counts. But it wasn't because of some special power of legendary proportions. It wasn't because he was some mythical figure that could only wear what showed as such.

It was part of the plan.

He stood at a crafting bench under the shadows of the jungle. Only minutes ago he'd spoken with Darius and the mages, making tweaks to the plan.

Now all that was left was the fitting process inside the jungle. With his bare feet in the grass, all the while twisting vines and blades of grass snaked up his limbs, forming the first layer of armor. Within the blades of grass, jungle pond-weed from the rivers to his left intermingled. Giving him a semi-aquatic edition of vine armor. Once tightened over his skin, it shifted to shades of dark blues.

"So, Goren, why do you know how to craft armor?" Claude asked. "Aren't you from a family of healers and medics?"

Goren nodded. He had his black hair in two haphazardly made pigtails, loose strands frayed in stuck to his forehead in the heat. "The best form of healing is prevention."

"If it never happens, you won't need healing at all." Claude said.

"Exactly." Goren dug into his work, freckled nose scrunching as he added some finishing touches to the armor laid on his bench.

Claude's pulse quickened as the healer finished.

"You sure about this?" Goren asked.

"Yes, and I'm gonna need that." Claude pointed to the freshly hunted boar that was yet to be skinned. It lay hanging over a bowl where blood dripped steadily.

"What?!"

"We have less numbers. I need a more extreme failsafe." Claude explained.

"You know I'm only level four right?"

"That's fine." Claude said, "Is it done?"

Goren nodded, "I did the best I could."

"It looks great. Thanks, Goren."

Goren beamed at the compliment.

Claude took the armor off the bench and began sliding it over his base layer of semi aquatic vine wrappings.

He wasn't inspired. He was erratic. For a week all he could think about was his father not being human, hex-blades hunting him and glacial shark-gods circling a warzone.

He made due with those circular thoughts and came to a very dark and extreme conclusion.

Of even the water element surfers on his team, he had become the most adept at deep sea combat. His strength led him to the islands edges, where the blue rushed and swelled like a living breathing ice cold thing. It's how he'd have to fight Samuel. And if a loss was predetermined….. well, that was a thought for another time.

For now, he was the sea-wolf.

Sections of glacial shark flesh armor hugged his skin. Gauntlets. Shin guards, all made from a black fleshy padding that almost looked like gummy dark metal. A tight chest piece that hugged his sore ribcage and back muscles. It would absorb blunt force trauma— just like the hobgoblin presented as. Hopefully— as he planned, it would negate a knights shoulder charge. Isaac and Samuel both taught him the effectiveness of such an attack.

The helmet was Goren's pride and joy from a crafters perspective. It was structured like a knights helm. Only there was no visor. Only a mouthpiece that funneled out to a hallowed out boar tusk he'd use as a snorkel. Atop the black flesh helmet, sanded down shark fins sat atop the head like the ears of a raging wolf.

He'd be lying if he didn't think it looked awesome.

He slid on the helmet.

"It fits good. Can you move?" Isaac asked as he hopped into the jungle. He wore a full set of wooden knights armor covered in honey and mollasses just in case he needed to become a walking man of fire.

Claude did a quick one-two combo followed by a spin kick. Then, he threw a thumbs up and tied on his black silk cloak. He had no idea silk was fire resistant. Bless Goren.

"Oh one more thing!" Goren dug under the table, "Your leashes…?"

"Thanks."

"I didn't know beast-tamers needed those. Isn't that a sign of weakness?" Isaac asked.

"Usually." Claude replied in a muffled whisper. He didn't look at Isaac as he fumbled with his utility belt. It held nothing more than seeds, bandages, and the rune-written stones from the hex-blade attack. He didn't feel comfortable holding them. But he also couldn't let them go. Especially not now.

With nothing left to say he left the jungle.

Minutes blew by. Students armed themselves and formed up on the beaches, going over plans and formations. Naz held the front-line, she wore nothing new. Again, it somehow still fit. On the dance floor and before war. She looked like a renegade warrior queen of the sands. He looked like an ocean-raider.

They did say opposites attract.

Claude hit the sands. He couldn't ignore the stares. Couldn't place them. Had to stay focused.

Naz looked him up and down a few times before he approached, taking off his helmet to speak, "Did the surfers remove the repellant?"

Naz nodded, "Are you sure about this?"

Claude nodded, "Yep."

"You are shaking."

"You aren't." Claude replied.

"Let's continue to balance each other." Naz said.

"Smooth." Claude laughed nervously.

"Where's your ride?" Marion jogged over to them, wearing only black silk robes. He looked like a jungle ninja.

"Not sure." Claude turned to face the endless ocean behind them and whistled.

Hundreds of feet out beyond the entry waves, four heads popped up out of the water and let out high pitched yips. Then they dove back down.

It looked like four small missiles headed straight towards them, twisting through the waves until the tide waned and gave way to four island-dogs trotting towards them.

They shook the water off their dark blue-grey coats as they came to Claude's side. They were beautiful. Almost looking like otter-wolves. Circumstantial hybrids selectively bred to exist on islands. They were once called dingo's. Dogs meant to first hunt down, then eventually accompany and form bonds with the prisoners on the Sunlandian Prison Sect to the south. A terrifying island full of deadly poisonous monsters. The place was once called Australia.

The island-dogs' bodies were long and flexible. Their feet webbed and tipped by razor sharp claws. They had solidifying saliva they used on their joints to harden loose longer hairs into ocean cutting fins. At their backs, tails double the length of their bodies were covered in short hair and layered with dense muscle for swimming power. Each one studied Claude, slim snouts twitching as they scented and licked the blood on his glacial-shark armor.

"Stop before you make it crusty." Claude tapped their snouts.

"Such a weird creature." Marion commented while watching their giant tails slither.

"They're used as rehabilitation companions in their native location. For the prisoners. But New Gloria bought the runts of a few liters and repopulated them here I guess… as training tames for people like me. Kind of genius since they're the most social canine breed on earth behind dogs."

"How did you guess that? Before the friendly part." Marion said.

"Island-dogs on average are almost twice this size." Claude said, "And this isn't a variant breed. They're too genetically unique to crossbreed. Same fur coloring— same behavior, same pack structure. Just small."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. It's perfect." Claude replied.

"So we're ready."

"Yea."

Naz straightened and the crowd picked up on it, silencing as they stood.

"The sixth-wave arrives in a few hours. We are in a race against time. We have to cross two hundred islands to get to Center-Island. Samuel has to cross twenty. We are behind. Let's move like we know this. Find your mounts in the jungle and get moving."

The students took off in a series of lines, slowly dispersing from the crowd in an orderly fashion. It was quick. There was only twenty five of them.

And then there was only four.

Claude and the three most talented surfers his freshman class had to offer.

Tyrell, Sion and Percival. They looked like a litter of cats. Physically they were similar, but they all occupied different shades on the color spectrum. Tyrell and Sion were tanned but you could tell they were originally supposed to be pale by the leathery damaged state of their skin and sun bleached curls. Percival was dark and nearly seven feet tall with the most piercing blue eyes Claude had ever seen. He was quiet and terrifying in water.

"You ready to ride, firsty?" Tyrell questioned.

"Yea, let's go." Claude replied.

"Rell, where's his board??" Sion asked.

"Percival said he had it." Tyrell replied as he shook his hair out of his eyes.

"He spoke to you??" Both Claude and Sion raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"Yea, man! And if you don't make a big deal out of it, he'll speak to you too. He's a shy guy. Like this one." Tyrell patted Claude's shoulder.

"I guess even glacial waters can warm." Sion thought quietly.

Percival suddenly appeared on the beach, jogging in eel skin armor like the other surfers with two surf boards in his arms. They were made of polished tree bark, giving them a swooping shape that took adjusting. Claude needed the week just for that.

Percival handed him his board.

"Thanks."

The sleek giant of few words nodded.

With nothing left to be done they hit the waters.

Claude laid down on his board and cut through the blue with shaking hands. At his sides, his island-dogs slithered after him, excited to let loose.

The other surfers pushed ahead of him with stronger arms and the power over their element.

Claude caught up quick as he fastened the leashes around his dogs. Once fastened, he clicked his teeth and they took off— nearly pulling him off his board.

He blew past the surfers.

"HAHA !!! Woah man!" Tyrell worked to catch up.

Suddenly they were moving faster than their sprinting speeds, cutting up the small waves before they could roll and morph into ramping walls of blue.

Hesitantly— weakly, Claude pushed up onto his feet. Doing so was a difficult physical maneuver that blended both balance and strength over your own body and board. You also had to do it at the right time. Feel the water. It's flatness and low point away from compounding waves.

Doing it with only one arm was even harder. Claude stumbled and almost fell in. Then his island-dog, Riptide was suddenly under his board, keeping it steady.

"Thanks." Claude huffed as he planted his feet.

He looked to his left. Percival rode his own sixteen foot wave, using the high ground to scout the islands. His black skintight suit was already soaked as if he willingly dove in at one point. Tyrell and Sion rode close behind. Together, the trio brought the rising tide inward, coaxing it into a massive wave.

Claude's island-dogs directed him around the island. The surfers rode the massive wave, using it to build up speed and turn to follow him.

They laughed and hollered like animals. Crouching low to let their hands scoop up and fray the blue wall.

The wave closed in on itself. Claude watched them disappear in its frothy folds behind him. He would've panicked if he'd never seen them pull it off before.

One by one they all rode out of the chaos at blinding speeds, freshly fed of the kinetic chaos of the splashing waves.

"Sink or swim, wolf-boy WOOHOO!" Tyrell said as he flew past him.

"Sink or swim." Claude repeated before tightening his grip on the leashes.

The island-dogs were practically foaming at the mouth. Sled-riding dna somewhere deep within only just beginning to awaken. Hopefully it stayed that way for a while.

Claude whistled, "Go!"

Four massive tails began swaying in a frothy blur beneath him. His own biological ship engine. He was off in a flash, almost knocked off his board. He took a two handed grip to the bundle of leashes as the island-dogs led him through the ocean.

"WOAHHH!!" Claude's board moved over the water like a skipping stone. The ride was bumpy— but they moved so fast, he couldn't register the last before the next hit him straight in the knees.

He caught up to his other surfers in no time.

"It worked hahaha!" Tyrell threw him a wild grin and thumbs up.

"Move with the bumps. Absorb the shock with your legs." Percival said. His voice sounded like it was made from stone. Both quiet, unassuming and impossibly— immovably, hard. He made a exaggerated squatting motion to show Claude.

Claude looked down at the ocean and his own board.

When the next bump came, he squatted. But it felt more like he was letting the board ride over the small wave. It barely felt like a bump then.

"You're a natural, man." Tyrell nodded.

Claude kept up his new speed adjusted pulses. Suddenly the ride was what it should've been.

"Awesome…."

"What was that?"

"This is awesome!" Claude yelled over to Tyrell.

"I know right!"

"We've got eyes on our people." Sion yelled from behind Tyrell.

Claude looked to his right and found twenty plus students riding massive jungle boars across the island. They weren't expensively armored heroes on horseback. They were kids, wearing tree bark and vine cloaks, riding stinking pigs.

But it worked.

She made it work.

Naz sat in a crouch on her Razorback. Scythe cutting up the wind behind her. She saw Claude and stood.

Literally surfing on land. Outdoing him so casually.

"Liberator!" She yelled from the islands edges, "Herd us!"

Claude suddenly noticed the students behind her breaking rank as their boars twisted and bucked wildly, heading off the island and towards the ocean.

Using, (Wild Call), Claude led his island-dogs closer to shore.

The boars were too wild to notice the predators beneath the waves in front of Claude as he approached.

They looked ready to charge. Darius and Carmen tried to pull at the reigns fastened around their tusks but they weren't physically powerful enough as student mages.

The shoreline welcomed them.

Then, Claude drifted in the seas, sending splashing water and two of the four dogs above the surface. They snarled and clawed at the air near the boars, causing them to squeal and turn back to join the others.

"Thanks, liberator!" Carmen winked, somehow maintaining composure and cool as her boar fled back to join the others.

Claude was back in the ocean, speeding. Only now, as they made their way to Center-Island, he had a new job. Something to do to keep his anxieties at bay. As they crossed dozens of Islands in record time, Claude cut and twisted around the borders, herding rogue boars, dodging Tangents and speeding away from approaching fish-men.

Samuel was only islands away, and this time he was sure the dark-knight would be ready. Angry, but ready. A deadly mix. Kind of like dark-fire in that way…

Also kind of like children born from monstrous hybrids.