The Land: Predators Read online

  So basically, the exact opposite of what I have been doing, Richter thought. Still, it was a good point. “I’m so glad I’m finally able to talk about this stuff, man. Now my next question…”

  Richter was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside of the room. Without even a wave of his hand, the chamberlain resumed his previous appearance. With a low and urgent voice, he cautioned his lord, “Remember, tell no one of my true nature. I will not be using my ability to cloak myself while in the village; it limits my power too much. I am using a Talent of my Specialty to look completely human. It will not limit my capabilities, but it is also not perfect as a disguise.”

  “I will keep your secret,” Richter promised. “Do not break faith with me, and I will not break faith with you. Please know that you can be yourself in this village though, if you choose to be.”

  Randolphus bowed his head in thanks. The guard knocked on the door and Richter bade him enter. The man was carrying Richter’s weapons and armor. A village woman followed behind with a steaming ewer of water. The woman helped him wash, and the conversation between the two Companions turned to more mundane village matters. Also important, but boring as Mormon sin.

  Once Richter was more presentable, the guard helped him don his armor. Richter didn’t like walking around the village in full gear, but the chamberlain said it was important that his people saw him as powerful, especially after a battle. Richter checked to make sure his blades were loose in their sheaths, almost a matter of reflex at this point. Then his face hardened and he spoke firmly, “Let’s go bury our dead.”

  CHAPTER 14 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 0 AoC

  Alma flew up to his shoulders and they all walked out of the catacombs. Futen was waiting by the cave mouth and silently started floating along beside Richter. At the bottom of the hill, Sion, Terrod and Caulder were waiting along with a contingent of guards and meidon sprites. All clapped their hands to their chests in salute.

  “I have assigned twenty guards to watch the refugees,” Terrod informed Richter. “Forty are standing watch by the grave. The rest of your forces stand beside you, my lord.”

  “The meidon sprites are with you, Lord Richter,” Sion seconded loudly, and his entire squad of magic archers, more than eighty strong, straightened to attention.

  Richter was blown away. He had led his forces to victory, but it had been at a heavy cost. Families were broken in a way that could never be mended. Open revolt by his people wasn’t something he had overly worried about, but he still hadn’t been sure that his people wouldn’t be cursing his name either. Seeing such a unified show of support touched him to his core.

  It also reaffirmed his determination to lead his people to power and security. He had been doubting his decision to attack the goblin settlement since seeing the butcher’s bill, but knowing his people remained steadfast in their support of him erased that worry. The goblins had been a threat to his entire community, and after seeing the power of the Bloodstone he knew that Hisako had been correct. The stone could have defeated even the magical mists that protected his village. The death toll would have been far worse if they had waited until the goblins were entrenched and reinforced.

  He didn’t even want to consider what might have happened if the goblins had been able to get through the shield that had protected the Chaotic shard. The best-case scenario would have been that the chaotic energy was unleashed all at once. Just a small fraction of it had escaped when Richter had found it. That small bit though had been enough to change the very landscape of The Land. It had created his Dungeon and the three strange areas around it. Unleashing all the Chaos at once could have literally done anything. The only thing worse might have been the goblins harnessing the power to their own dark ends.

  Richter returned the salutes of his fighting men and women. Then, with them marching behind him, he started walking towards the village gate. Night had fallen, but mist lights hovered in the air all around them, easily lighting the way. Before he had crossed half the distance, he was met by his Companion Elora, queen of the celestial pixies. She hovered in midair, wearing a snow-white dress made from the leaves of the Quickening. Behind her flew what remained of her children, those that had not suffered sakeru, the severing.

  “Queen Elora,” Richter greeted her softly.

  “My Lord Richter,” she replied, curtsying in midair. There was no accusation in her gaze when she straightened, but there was sadness. Behind her, the pixies sang a low-pitched dirge of lament and remembrance.

  “I am sorry for the loss of your children,” he told her with feeling.

  “The Land is a place of harsh realities. The most cruel truth is also the most common. Death comes quickly to us all. I learned that long ago as my people died from a magical plague, one by one, until I was the very last. I have not forgotten that you are the reason my children have been able to live in safety unto this point.” She flew closer until she was only inches from his face. Her skin shone with the faintest of luminescence. He would not have been able to see her in the dark from even a few feet away, but this close he could see the faint glow coming from her silver skin, like a moonlit sea on a clear night. Alma shifted on his shoulders, not liking any being coming so close to her master, but the brilliant dragonling knew Richter had little to fear from the pixie queen.

  “I do not blame you for their deaths, Lord Richter. I have learned that keeping them away from their meitu’meidon is no guarantee of safety, however. Out of respect to you, my liege, I fought against the dictates of my own heart when you suggested they stay out of battle. I know now that was wrong. Despite their age… my children…” Elora paused, pained, then spoke with resolve, “Pixies belong with their bonded sprites. My children must be allowed to accompany the other half of their souls into danger. At least then they can help to protect one another.”

  Richter had indeed been pushed to keep the pixie children safely within the confines of the village. They had petulantly protested, but neither the meidon sprites nor Elora had resisted his will. Now though, he couldn’t argue with what Elora was saying. Disregarding the facts that she was their mother and their queen, she was right. He hadn’t known at the time that the death of a meidon sprite would also cause this sakeru in their bonded pixie. At least together they were both more likely to survive. Richter sighed with the weight of his responsibilities. Once again, he was reminded that his old conceptions of right and wrong that had worked on Earth might be too rigid for The Land.

  “It will be as you say, Queen Elora,” he replied formally. Then, with a softer tone, he asked her, “Will you come with me to put our fallen to rest?”

  “Of course, my lord. My place is at your side.” So, saying, she flew over his head and hovered above and behind him like a halo. When he started walking forward, the pixie children fell in behind their queen. Such was the procession of Richter of the Mist Village. To his left, the men and women of the guard followed his Companion Terrod, strong and steadfast. To his right, the meidon sprites walked silently behind his Companion Sion, loyal and true. Behind him trailed his Companion Randolphus, silent and watchful, and above him flew his Companion Elora, noble and hopeful. The five Companions moved together towards the new gravesite of the Mist Village, united in purpose to give honor to their dead.

  CHAPTER 15 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 0 AoC

  Mist lights had been arrayed around the mass grave, and the bodies had been laid within. Quiet sobbing echoed around the gathering and the villagers clumped together to look down at the dead. As Richter watched, he saw no separation of humans, elves, dwarves, or gnomes. Village guards stood in a loose circle around the funeral, on the lookout for monsters or beasts that might attack now that they were all outside the village walls.

  The wood sprites of Hisako’s army stood on the other side of the grave, silent and respectful. Their own dead would be taken back to the Hearth Tree to feed its roots and thereby continue to nourish the tribe. The Hearth Mother herself stood at one end of the
grave waiting quietly for Richter, Yoshi at her side.

  As the chaos seed walked closer, the murmuring conversation ceased. The villagers watched their lord approach, flanked by his vassals and Companions. The pixies spread out in the air above everyone present, continuing to sing their soft lament. Elora hovered over the grave itself, leading the song of her people. Tears began to fall more freely from the eyes of almost everyone present. The village began to grieve.

  The guards that had escorted Richter spread out to help in securing the perimeter, following a previous order from Terrod. The meidon sprites did the same. It would be a bold monster that would attack the combined forces standing vigilant this night, but many mindless beasts roamed the dark of the forest.

  A small platform had been brought out and placed at the head of the grave. It was just two steps up, but it let all present see him. Alma stood upright on one of his shoulders and Futen floated above the other. Hisako was already there waiting for him. Richer ascended and turned to look out upon the assembly. He began to speak.

  “My people,” he projected, looking at his villagers standing to the right of the grave. “My allies,” he continued, looking to Hisako’s sprite army standing on the left. “There is a wisdom from my homeland that I would share with you now. ‘Each day I breathe, I am more convinced that the true tragedy of life is not in its ending, but in its waste. The love that has not been shared, the chances that have not been taken, the craven caution that robs us of what we truly need: meaning.’”

  He pointed to the grave and pyres, “These brave men and women fought for us!” he cried. “They fought for you. We will grieve their deaths, but this night, surrounded by darkness with tears on our cheeks, I also want us to celebrate the lives that they led. Their names will be immortalized in stone, but first we will share their names with the air.”

  Richter began to recite the names of the dead. The parchment that Randolphus had prepared for him was already etched in his memory. The time he had spent with his fighting men and women made it easy to recall the fallen. As he spoke each name, that soldier’s face came to his mind, and sometimes even a scrap of memory. Perhaps a man laughing at a ribald joke or a woman smiling at a friend’s tale. Soon, tears fell down his cheeks while he paid homage to those who had fallen.

  He listed the names of the meidon sprites and finally came to the pixies that had been lost due to sakeru. Richter did not know their names, so he simply spoke of the beauty of the pixie race and thanked Elora for her sacrifice. The whole time he had spoken, the mournful dirge of the pixies had continued. Now it rose in intensity. Tears fell from every eye and the villagers held each other in their grief.

  Elora’s racial ability, Celestial Pixie Song, activated.

  Know This! You are witness to the Song of Honored Loss. The reverence you have shown to the pixies lost to sakeru has moved Queen Elora. She has shared the sorrow of her heart. Everyone present is afflicted with Cherished Sadness.

  -100% to village Production, this will improve by +10% per hour.

  -95% to motivation of all afflicted for the duration of the Song, this will improve by +10% per hour.

  The celestial pixies understand that sadness is not to be avoided but cherished. The emotional pain caused by Cherished Sadness will cleanse the souls of all afflicted.

  Any Morale or Loyalty losses the village would have suffered from the deaths of its people are reduced by -50%.

  The emotional healing process for all who have suffered loss is increased by +200%.

  An almost crippling sorrow overtook Richter. As he looked around, he saw that even Yoshi and Randolphus wept. Alma pressed her body tightly across his shoulders, and a keening rose among all gathered. An icon that looked like a heart with a crack down the middle appeared in the corner of his vision. It was a sickly green, and a teardrop of the same color oozed from the crack.

  You are afflicted with Cherished Sadness.

  There was more that Richter was going to say, but the Song accomplished what his words would only have attempted. The healing process had begun. Hisako slid her small hand inside his. As he looked at her, he was surprised at the rough calluses on her palms and fingers. He started to speak, then realized he did not know what to say. Even if he did, his heart could not bear the strain of one more word. She simply nodded at him in understanding and showed him what could be done.

  The Hearth Mother raised her voice in song, and hundreds of sprites of various races did the same. For the first time in millennia, sprites joined the other half of their souls in Song. The Song triggered something primal and pure within them, and their voices perfectly complemented the pixies flying above. Richter and the other villagers bathed in the music of pixie and sprite alike as the fallen were sent peacefully to their rest.

  CHAPTER 16 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 0 AoC

  The Song lasted for nearly an hour.

  A prompt appeared in Richter’s vision that he absorbed and dismissed.

  Quest Update: Unity of the Sorat’Shin II

  Pixies and sprites of various races have joined their voices in song for the first time in millennia. This has reminded them that they can be so much more together than they could ever be apart. Continue your efforts to make the Sorat’Shin, the True Sprites, a reality once again. All sprites, regardless of race, regard meidon sprites with great affection.

  +2500 Relationship Points to any sprite relationship with meidon sprites.

  It was one step closer to reuniting the sprite peoples. The analytical part of Richter also realized that his Companion Sion was quickly becoming someone who could rally sprite armies from around the world. That was a discussion for another time though.

  Only Futen and the mist workers standing nearby seemed unaffected. The remnant gave a silent order and the grey constructs began shoveling dirt back into the pit soon after the Song started. By the time the pixie and sprite voices fell silent, the grave had been filled in and all that remained was a patch of bare earth. This did not last long. Hisako stepped forward and began to cast.

  Soft tones fell from her lips as green energy surrounded her hands. The light fell in gentle waves upon the earth and flowed forward over the grave. Green grass began to appear and in seconds the grave was covered. The radiance faded from her hands, but only for a moment, until she began another casting. This time golden light suffused her hands, and soon flowers of the same shade began to sprout up until the entire area was carpeted in beauty.

  Richter smiled at her in appreciation. The sadness and emotion the Song had evoked was still within him, but an hour had passed. The effect was not nearly as absolute as before. His tongue had been frozen as he grieved for his people, but he could now say what was in his heart, “My people,” he began and hundreds of red-rimmed eyes turned towards him, “there were many words that I was going to say, but it all comes down to a thank you, an apology, and a promise. Thank you for standing with me. I am sorry that I could not save everyone. I promise that no matter what comes for us, I will stand with you.”

  There was silence for a moment, then a female gnome holding a small child stepped forward and pointed to the grave, “My husband lies beneath this ground. Before he left to follow you, I begged him not to go. I told him he did not need to fight for you.” She paused, and looked down at her crying babe for a moment, struggling to control herself. She looked back up and the loss on her face nearly broke Richter’s heart anew.

  “I remember what he said to me, word-for-word. He told me, ‘I respect our lord, but I would not leave you to fight for him. I am leaving to fight for our family. Lord Richter has made a home for our child where she will get the chance to grow and learn. He is a good man.’ My husband’s name was Potor.” The fierceness in her gaze intensified, “Are you the man that my husband believed you to be? Will you continue to protect us?”

  Her questions tipped the scales in his already precarious emotional state. Tears once again fell freely down his cheeks. With a catch in his voice, he said, “I am that man
. I will fight and die for your family.” Richter raised his eyes and looked at the rest of his villagers, “I would do the same for all of you! I will not make you false promises. I cannot promise that you will all be safe.” He pointed to the grave, a mirror to the woman that had just been speaking. “We all know that we are not safe. There is no true safety in The Land, but we are alive! We are alive because of Potor and all our other brothers and sisters who died so that we could live. So that we could live and be free!”

  Richter continued to look around, meeting the eyes of his people one by one, “They did not die in vain. We struck a mighty blow against our enemies. Hundreds of goblins and trolls are dead. Our mighty ally, Hisako of the Hearth Tree, was correct. The goblins had a powerful weapon. Maybe not today, or even next week, but one day they would have used it against us. Now though, because of the brave men and women of the Mist Village, we have taken that weapon and it will serve us!” A few scattered cheers rang out.

  Ever since returning to the village, Richter had approached this conversation like an apology. All that had been in his mind had been sorrow over the deaths of his people and his responsibility in it. He had led them to war, after all.

  Now though, thanks to the words Potor had spoken to his wife, and thanks to her bravery and conviction, he remembered the real truth. The truth that he was the man the gnome had described. At least, he strived to be that man every day. Even if he fell short from time to time, Potor had been right. He was making something special here, something that was worth fighting for. They all were. The Mist Village was more than just earth and stone. It was an idea worth dying for.