Murciel had only ever heard stories of the Firespeakers from distant conversations and Mrs. Augustus's retellings of her travels as a medical Druid. That was decades ago and Mrs. Augustus wasn't known for her willingness to converse with Murciel.
Seeing was believing long before hearing.
And Murciel was seeing a god in action.
No, he was fighting a god.
Spilling his blood.
Feeling the heat of his people's solar-technology.
He was facing the greatest form of adversity a Druid could ever hope for. It was the perfect recipe for evolution.
His hunger for it pushed him onward as he climbed the bordering oak tree, zigzagging to avoid the fireballs blasted from Logan's spear.
"Sandmaw, go!" Logan yelled.
Suddenly his wolf-hybrid was up and dashing out of the grove to chase down Murciel.
"Yes! More enemies. Do you have more tricks and challenges? Bring them— make me strong!" Murciel yelled as he swung from the tree branches like an ape, barely dodging the flurry of heat blasts.
"Don't patronize me. I'll rip your throat out." Logan said before throwing his spear.
The closer the weapon got to the sun, the larger it became until it looked like a flaming steel beam that ripped apart the branches and sent Murciel falling to the floor.
He hit the ground in a roll, softening his fall on the already soft grass. He got to his feet a—
The painted wolf-beast tackled him, snapping its jaws around his shoulders and arms until he was leaking blood everywhere. Before it could begin tearing off his limbs, he stuck his fingers in its nose and pulled.
The wolf whined and let up enough for him to kick his way free.
He rolled left, landing on the dirt path where a trio of working Druids went alert at the sign of violence.
"Don't! Dont take this from me!" Murciel got to his feet just as Logan fell from a lower hanging tree, stomping his feet into the ground and sending a tidal wave of fire after him.
Murciel brought up his undersized cloak and braved the heat. Sandmaw kicked up the dirt from behind him, blowing past the watching Druids like a battering ram.
Murciel's ears twitched as the beast neared. He could see it from the footfalls. It's open jaws and white teeth and pinned back ears.
He charged Logan. Before he could strike, he jumped backward, just barely leaping over Sandmaw and allowing the giant hound to crash into its owner.
As soon as he hit the ground, he was on them, kicking aside the hound to pounce on Logan.
From top mount in the dirt trail, he hammered down punches on Logan, ignoring how his knuckles burned on the boys scorching skin.
"Fight back, Logan! You're a god! Show me your powers! Challenge me!" Murciel huffed.
"Shut up!" Logan roared flames, blasting Murciel off him.
He stumbled and rolled in a steaming mess, blinded by the brightness of the heat and stunned by the…. well, heat.
Ignoring the pain, he tried to get back on his quick feet and keep up the pressure, only he forgot about Sandmaw.
The painted wolf-beast bit down on his wrist and shook him. He flailed like a ragdoll. His legs smashed into trees and ripped through thorn bushes for what felt like a small eternity until he was eventually thrown aside at Logan's whistle.
He laid in the thicker forestry lining the right side of the path. It was silent, fading as Professor Switch called out for them in a rage. In his wake, the students silently gossiped and marveled at the trail of flames and torn bushes Murciel and his godly opponent left in their wake.
He tried to get up, but his leg was broken. As was his wrist. And he was beginning to feel that agnonizing sting of a blistering burn on the left side of his face.
"What an amazing challenge…." Murciel smiled.
He coughed as Logan landed on him with a hand over his throat, "Sandmaw won't quit until the enemy submits. Neither will I."
Murciel coughed.
"Say it."
"….."
"Say it!"
"….."
"Stop smiling! Stop looking at me like I'm weak!" Logan shook him in his grip. Even though his victory was unanimous, he bled from a broken nose and busted lip. Bruises were already beginning to darken on his lower jaw, neck and arms.
But more than anything, his ego was beat the hardest.
He was told since childhood that he was a god to the people of Center-Earth, and his first battle with a native almost went sideways.
And the boy was unarmed.
And pre-exhausted.
And he'd fought Foul-Beasts earlier if his scent was any indicator of his daily activities.
Logan grinded his teeth. "Say it."
"No."
Logan moved to say more, but Murciel never caught it. All he could focus on was the drops of blood falling from his busted nose. Under the focused sunlight it lay emblazoned like crimson gold. Like a red elixir of life falling on his dying frame.
It hit his dry lips and spread across his flexed tongue. All of him was flexed. Tense. Springloaded and ready to plunge deep into the red.
He blinked once and he was there suddenly. In a silent, distant red world of waves and war and withering pain. It faded until he felt nothing but distant bliss and growing power.
Then he blinked again.
The red world faded. Layers lifted and worlds blended until he was back to what he knew, now viewed under a red haze.
He found himself looking into two human eyes. Two scared eyes.
A fur covered hand with black curled talons held him by the throat, stapled to the tree. It took him a moment to realize it was his own arm. Beastial. Strapped with new muscles ready to be utilized as the thin fur stood on end with anticipation.
"Foul-seeds!" Professor Switch yelled as he ripped through the greenery in search of them.
Sandmaw whined.
Murciel looked to his left and found that in his other hand, he held the massive canine to the ground with a fistful of its neck-meat in a death grip.
"What in the earths are you?" Logan asked with a shudder.
Murciel looked back up at Logan. There he found his reflection in the young gods scared gaze.
His skin took on a darker—more tough, hue and texture. His ears grew sharp, poking through his mop of curly dark hair. He had fangs, and his face was extending into a sort of snout.
Not to mention his vision worsened. It was blurry and lacking in color. Except when Logan exhaled. Or Sandmaw whined.
The noises echoed and bounced off the forest around him, splashing everything with a level of detail and color clarity he couldn't describe. It was blinding. He could see every particle of dust in the air. Every speck of pollen, like jeweled snowfall.
He looked back at Logan with eyes like torchlight at nightfall.
Logan flexed with orange eyes.
Silenced followed as nothing came. As if his power was sapped. Even he looked confused.
More than anything, Murciel felt full. Tired. Sluggish and barely awake. So tired he only just realized he could hold Logan without being burned.
He smiled.
"Say it."
Logan looked mortified.
"Your fire is gone for some reason….. so say it." Murciel giggled like a child on the Day of Giving.
Logan seemed to be grappling with some deep internal conflict before looking to his canine, back to Murciel and dropping his eyes.
"I submit."
Murciel set Logan down and let go of Sandmaw.
"Logan Peltwalker, my lord! Please! Spare the boy! He's only a child. He's a weak, foolish, child who doesn't know his weaknesses! He must learn! Let me teach him respect! Let me make him understand your power!" Professor Switch yelled as he neared.
The two boys and beast silently, awkwardly, waited until he arrived, bursting through the foliage in a panic.
His curled nose dripped sweat profusely. His robes picked up all the leaves and debris of his wild travels. He looked like a wild vagrant or interloper. He must've noticed because he began tidying himself as he looked over the scene.
Finally, he faced Logan and bowed, "Thank you, my lord. Your willingness to spare another is most... wait…. What happened to your nose? And your lips and your jaw and your arms and…."
Logan kept his eyes low, but spared a glance Murciels way.
He stood smiling like an idiot.
"Nothing happened. I fell."
Murciel's smile faded as he looked to Logan. "What the—"
"Of course. Murciel was bested and you fell in your haste to not finish the boy off. I thank you. Please, let us return to the grove. And YOU, laps until you grow chin hair." Professor Switch said to Murciel and Logan.
As he walked back to the grove he beckoned them to follow with a long fingered hand.
Murciel looked to Logan.
Logan puffed out his chest in unison with Sandmaw as if they both retained their dignity at the same time. "You don't get to best a god and brag about it all day. The same way you beat me, you need to beat your own reputation and maybe they all won't believe you're lying about your adventures. Not that it matters what they think…"
"How do I do that without you saying what happened here???" Murciel asked as they walked.
"Show them your beast-form. It's….. strong. Also… how are you able to shapeshift? It was incomplete and unbalanced but still… that's only possible at the upper tiers of Mortal-Mage and Green-Knight Cultivation Stage."
Murciel shrugged, ignoring the discomfort he felt at the idea of exposing his other form, "I guess that's what I am now. I knew fighting you would bring me progress. It's exactly what I need. You have to keep fighting me, Logan. It'll make you stronger too."
Logan looked at him for a moment. For the first time he sounded deadly serious. Then he was smiling again, as if he, a mortal, didn't just tell a god to keep trying to beat him if he wanted to get stronger.
"What are you?" Logan thought again.
"I feel full. This is amazing."
"I feel exhausted." Logan looked down at his hands, "And I need to meditate. I spent hours absorbing and cultivating Solar-Mana today— I barely used any against the Foul-Beasts and somehow I lost all my reserves fighting y—"
Out of seemingly nowhere, Murciel burped a tuft of fire.
The two looked at eachother silently, then Murciel looked at Sandmaw.
"Can I ride your wolf?"