[Skell]
Completely clueless, Oliver moved to dress the "woman's" alleged wound. But curled behind him twisted a wooden stake - pointed straight for his heart.
And I was too far away to stop it.
I looked to my arm's cradle. Only one left…
She thrust the stake forward… before a mud ball flew past them.
Shade! I stomped. Missed her!
The two froze. Their confused gaze shot to the squashed pile of mud. They followed it's trajectory. Then found me.
"Skell!" Oliver's eyes widened. "You caught up-"
"Ruaghhh!" The woman let out a fiendish shriek - a mix of high-pitched fright and inhuman malice. Oliver jolted back as she scurried away like an animal, nearing the massive tree behind her.
"M-miss?" asked the hunter.
It finally occurred to me. "That's no woman! The fog, it's playing with your eyes!"
"Th-the fog?" he echoed. Concerned eyes turned into a cautious squint at the creature.
Her back hit the oak, and she clambered up it to her feet. "Human!" she stabbed an accusing finger at me. "You! You ruined our perfect harvest!"
I grit teeth. "You tried to kill my friend! What in the Abyss are you?"
She tenderly caressed the tree beside her. "Our roots, parched. Our bark, thirsty. Lifeblood is the only nectar that sates them and you… you were not supposed to be here! I opened a path for one! Only one!"
This… thing, it's absolutely insane! She's not even trying to keep up the charade. No way we're getting answers from it.
I sent Oliver a quick look; I wanted him to back away. He picked up on it but didn't move. He just closed his eyes. The wooden woman did the same.
"Only sensed two, only two," she spoke softly to the tree. "The other… the other still stumbles in our fog. Lost. Lost lost lost. So what is this thing at the edge of our domain? No lifeblood flows within the body. What is it? What is it?"
She… she's onto me!? Horror balled in my chest. How in the…
"Gust!" Oliver shouted to my surprise. He rolled a hand outward and a gentle wind washed throughout the clearing. Nothing powerful enough to be considered harmful. But just strong enough to carry away the immediate fog. I couldn't see through Oliver's eyes. Yet the alarm in them was clear as day.
"You…" his spine stiffened. "It's like Skell said…"
She looked around. Her face cracked a ruthless scowl. "Seen. My illusion. Gone. No matter. No matter! One, two, we will sap you all the same. Until nothing remains!"
Shade, forget about your disguise - Oliver's too close!
Her neck twitched and I sprung into action - Shroud activated.
But her resin eyes darted back to mine. She pointed a rounded foot forward and the damp ground between us rumbled violently. It split apart and a thick, sharpened root ripped toward me. Shock stopped my feet. Sense forced me to pull back.
Sweat drove down my face as I backed away further and further. The giant root kept an unrelenting chase. In moments it closed the gap; I knew if it reached me it'd bore through my chest like a finger through wet paper.
It dove for my chest. A scream escaped from my mouth. Then… nothing.
My back bumped against a tree. One of the distant hundreds encircling the clearing. The root pointed toward me, shuddered feebly, then fell limp onto the ground and sank back into the dirt.
What? Chills ran through my tense body, worsening when I spotted the woman's frustrated glare. The root, it's movement froze so suddenly. But why? It was like… like a puppet that had its strings cut. Wait…
My gaze shot back. Here! The edge of this clearing, it must be beyond her reach!
A thunk stole my attention. And the woman's.
She looked down to find an arrow lodged deep in the bark of her chest. A second, then a third ripped into her, and she stumbled back.
But she didn't fall.
Sap dribbled from her wounds as the woman released another shriek - her attention darting to Oliver. Popping and clicking, her extended arm twisted again - this time forming a stake the length of a spear.
Oliver looked on, still at a loss as to who - or what - stood across from him. But his eyes still sharpened into a hunter's: the type to pursue, not flee. Nature's perverse predator and an archer who never missed.
One of them would have to become prey.
The monster lurched at him on legs that weren't made for running - yet were deceptively quick. She threw herself into stilted swipes meant to cleave Oliver into chunks. They didn't. His Shroud and natural agility slipped him out of harm's path time and again, frustrating the monster. But Oliver didn't fire back. He couldn't fire back.
She won't let up! Crap, he can't get a shot off!
I struck the tree behind me. Terror froze my body; this creature could easily leave me in a state no regeneration could fix. But he couldn't be left to fight alone. Oliver replaced the spot in my mind where fear pulsed the loudest.
And I reentered the clearing.
Wind split as the woman cleaved at Oliver's throat. He sprung into the air and over the woman with inches to spare. For a split-second they were parallel - eyes staring into the other - before Oliver landed behind her. She curved unnaturally, preparing another attack.
Before she stopped cold.
She noticed me. I grimaced.
She wildly raised her "normal" arm, and I readied myself for another impaling root.
What I didn't expect was to rise above her, Oliver, and the entire clearing.
My attention snapped down. Swollen roots emerged from the earth and rose dozens of feet skyward. I immediately felt unsteady, the irregular, shifting ropes below working as terrible footing. I moved a strong foot to balance myself but almost as if expecting it, the root wriggled to the side. My boot landed on empty air.
I plummeted, grasping for a handhold that didn't exist. Roots like bulging veins zoomed past as the ground rushed to meet me. A ground that split open with vile timing, revealing another sharpened root - peeking through the dirt like a deadly mole.
My eyes shut of their own volition.
Then a single word forced them open.
"Windseeker!"
Halfway down, my gaze shot to Oliver. Released from his bow was an arrow cloaked in razor-sharp wind.
But he didn't attempt any of his usual misdirection. Instead his Windseeker sped straight for the distracted woman. Her commanding arm stood no chance at enduring the attack. Though even I was shocked when Windseeker burst right through it - the wooden limb snapping into the dirt like a twig.
I hit the ground in the next moment. My face, chest, knees - everything front-facing felt like it'd been pounded by hammers. But the pain was oddly bearable.
Picking myself up, I found the dirt below disturbed - though lacking the spiked root that was supposed to impale me. The roots around me followed suit. They all dropped like bridges without a support, sinking into the dirt in seconds. Letting my undead body mend the superficial damage, I craned up to find Oliver's gaze. He checked to see if I was okay, exhaled in relief, then turned back to the fallen woman.
He delved into his quiver. "Some are called monsters. Some use illusions. But not all are bad." Fingers took up an arrow. "Are you like them? Or should you be put down?"
The woman crawled away, sap pouring like viscous fluid from her gaping shoulder. Pained groans were all she offered. 'Till a passing fog cloud drifted over her face.
"P-please!" begged a stunning, caramel-haired woman, holding her remaining hand out as a pitiful ward. Blood flowed from her severed arm, staining the side of a yellow blouse. "Don't kill me! Have mercy!"
Oliver dropped his bow, puzzled. Her fear, the tears cascading down her cheeks - they felt real.
Real enough to spark remorse in the hunter.
Real enough to make me hesitate.
And real enough to distract us both from the root snaking behind Oliver.
"W-watch out!" I rushed toward him.
I noticed too late. Oliver was quick, but even he couldn't avoid something that already knocked at his spine.
"Haah!" yelled the escort, cleaving through the pointed root with a two-sided axe. "Fools, both of you!" he yanked Oliver away from the writhing wood. "The dryad mimics humanity to draw you in, don't you get it!?"
Carlyle? He came? And… a dryad?
This dryad shrieked again. The cloud passed and her skin returned to its wooden state. Enraged, she slithered to her feet. "The other! The other! It should be lost, waiting patiently for its turn to become drink for our roots. How is it here? How? How?"
Realizing the dryad was busy… talking to itself, I hurried to the others. We formed a tight defensive circle. Though, I couldn't help but flick my eyes to the escort.
"How did you get here?"
"Tried to leave," he replied, unashamed. "Haze wouldn't let me. Saw a trail of mud. Thought they'd lead me out. Led here instead."
"Poor guy…" my tone turned acidic. "Guess that means you can't leave us behind like you wanted? So sorry to hear that."
He grunted, tightening the grip on his axe.
Behind us, Oliver grabbed another arrow. "Still, we're thankful for the hel-."
Another scream. Whatever conclusion the dryad came to, it was final.
Three roots emerged from the center of our circle and forced us to spread out. They extended high then aimed low, thrashing wildly like weighty tentacles.
"You know about this dryad don't you!?" I stopped short and dove away from a crushing root. Narrowly missing me, it kicked up dirt before rising again. "Any advice?"
"The tree!" he hacked into an incoming root. "The dryad and it are one! The roots are like her own limbs!"
Carlyle forced his axe out of the wood, watching it jerk away. "Kill it and you kill the dryad. But these wretched roots - they'll drain the blood from you until you're an empty skin."
So she wasn't talking complete nonsense. Urgh, why can't this thing can't just take water like a normal tree!?
Oliver paled at his words, almost neglecting to leap over a flailing root. "We should attack - but she won't give us the chance!"
I tried to hurry off the ground. But something held me down: a small root, slithering around my feet and tying them together. Its iron grip quickly circled up my boots. In seconds I'd be constricted from head to toe. My hands reached for the collar of the boots. Just before the root took hold of them too, I slipped my feet outside them and tumbled away to freedom. Freedom for me, but not for him.
Labored breaths drew my eyes behind us. Entangled in a number of snaking roots, Carlyle stood beside his dropped axe. The coil on his stomach impressed a deep indent. But that wasn't the worst of it.
Another root - even smaller - rose by his feet and up to his neck. It was made sharp. And it pointed toward a bulging vein at his neck.
"No!" Oliver swiftly loosed an arrow, severing the root by the middle. For the moment, Carlyle was saved.
Just like the dryad wanted.
Beneath Oliver's notice poked more tangling roots from the dirt at his feet. I didn't even think.
"Agh!" he yelped as I shoved him to the ground.
There wasn't time to apologize. The roots scaled up my body in seconds. I was completely entangled, an arm extended and dangling uncomfortably.
"Skell!" the hunter shot back, eyes wide.
"We captured the empty one?" The dryad spoke with the same disappointment as a kid who caught the wrong bug. "But the young one's lifeblood… so ripe. So ripe!"
"Oliver!" I struggled in vain. "Run!"
He clambered to his feet. "You're telling me to leave you behind again?"
I gave a pained smile. "No. Remember what happened when I first got here?"
It was hard to tell if my point got across, because before he responded, more roots snuck around the base of his feet. He jumped just in time. They grabbed nothing and he landed a short distance away and made a run for it.
My smile turned to a smirk. I don't give you enough credit, Oliver. You may not know much, but you sure are quick on the uptake.
Several roots burst from the ground behind him, tracking the hunter. He was faster. Reaching the edge of the clearing, he spun and stopped and watched - tense but ready. The roots converged on his position.
They stopped right before his nose, then all fell limply to the ground.
Yes! That far away, he's safe and sound. Still… if this dryad can survive Windseeker - we need something deadlier. Meaning-
I can't get comfy in these roots!
"Hand of Decay!"
My palm sparked into a necrotic green. Using the little space my arm had left, I reached back to the nearest root. Just to come to a chilling realization.
Hand of Decay was many things. But I'd never call it precise. The roots hugged tight on my skin, so close I could never rot through without eating through the bones behind them. And there were a lot of roots.
Shade, no way out! What do I do!?
In the distance, Oliver raised his bow.
My hope could at least lie in him. But the dryad didn't seem particularly worried.
"The young one thinks that because we can't reach it, we will be undone by its human weapon." She waved her remaining hand, and my body was suddenly jerked aside by the roots underfoot. Just like Carlyle. In seconds him and I were placed between the dryad and Oliver's aim.
"It cannot strike us," her voice darkened. "Not at all. Not at all. Unless it would like to skewer its brethren!"
Fire burned in my chest. This creature… If I could just get my hand on her!
Sweat built at the hunter's forehead. But I didn't know why. Windseeker could easily curve around us and hit the dryad. She was quick, possibly enough to avoid it, but we shouldn't have been in danger of being struck.
So why are his eyes so focused on me…
"Kid… Are you crazy!?" the escort wrestled against the roots behind me. "Don't… Shoot! You're gonna… Kill us both!"
"If he doesn't shoot we die anyway!" I ignored how easy it was to talk big with regeneration in my corner. "Oliver! You got this!"
"Skell…" his voice was uncharacteristically grave. "…Open your free hand."
Hesitantly, I did as he asked. It was all I could do. You better know what you're doing! Urgh, no… I've gotta trust him!
"The young one?" asked the confused dryad. "The young one would not kill its brethren. Would not? Would not!?"
Oliver's gaze was a hawk's. "Windseeker!"
He fired the arrow - cloaked in swirling, piercing gales. This wind expanded the danger zone; it wouldn't slide harmlessly through my ribcage like the bolt Ponytail shot at me. If I had a heart, it would've sunk into the depths of the Abyss.
Because the arrow dove straight for my chest.
My eyes clenched shut.
A moment later and my sternum would've blown apart. Not to mention the fate of the crappy escort behind me.
Yet it still passed through me. Just not my chest. Instead it passed my open hand. Where necrotic magic still churned, waiting for a chance to rot.
My eyes caught the change for a split-second. Upon contact with the dark magic, the wind seemed to incorporate it like a tornado carries debris into its cyclone. The two shades of green, one transparent and bright, the other murky and dark, merged around the arrow and took on a pale, deathly emerald color.
It flashed by before I saw more. Behind me, the dryad's resin eyes bulged with shock.
Windseeker - or whatever it was, now - soared at her, leaving behind a smoky trail. But what happened was the worst kind of miracle. Despite her cracking composure, she leapt to the side like a pouncing animal and just barely slinked by the art.
A call that close, and she still gets away!?
But I was wrong. Oliver's true target rose behind her. The archer let slip a gap-toothed smile.
After all, trees weren't known for their mobility.
His - no, our art sunk into its massive trunk. So deeply it couldn't be seen.
What felt like a massive heartbeat sent shivers through the clearing. Her scream was instant. Though this time it wasn't due to fear, or shock, or wrath. But because of raw agony.
"Kagghhhhhh!" The dryad crumpled to her knees, clawing at her chest with her only hand. Her body convulsed like something terrible gnawed at the insides. "What…! What did it do… to us? To us!?"
My wooden restraints dropped lifelessly to the ground. Same as with Carlyle, clearly trying to mask how shaken he was. "That art…" he caught his breath. "He can control the arrow's flight?"
"Surprising, huh?" I stretched, enjoying my liberation. "I'd have said something, but then the dryad would've heard. Didn't want her catching on."
And not at all to give you a taste of your own medicine. Nope.
I looked to the dryad, although my eyes wanted to turn away. She writhed like a poisoned bug. Buried within my anger, I felt an grain of pity. If only, I suspected, because of our similarities. Two "monsters" that used illusions to get ahead. But I wouldn't delude myself. She savored her slaughters. And we couldn't have been her first targets. It seemed the dryad was barely even sapient, only smart enough to know how best to deceive prey. I was nothing like her.
And so, I didn't avert my eyes when the escort drew near her.
"Save your begging," his shadow enveloped her spasming body, axe slung over his shoulder. "Like everything you say, it's mimicry. A monster's pathetic manipulations."
She turned onto her back, releasing a strange combination of laughter and misery. The bark that made up her body seemed to shrivel and gray. Even her resin eyes lost their shine. "The big one wishes to chop us down, as so many of their kind does to so many of ours. But it does not seem to realize what it stands to gain. Not at all. Not at-"
His axe carved deep into her wooden flesh and she twitched with a wincing thunk. He raised the weapon, then came down again and again and again. 'Till nothing remained but lifeless lumber.
Like me, he knew she had nothing worth listening to.
Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned to see Oliver, fatigued to the Abyss and back.
"Are you all right?" I asked. "Why are you clutching your head? Did you get hit when I wasn't looking?"
He shook his head and groaned. "I used too much mana. But I'll be right as rain soon; headaches usually pass pretty quick for me. How are you?"
"Still in one piece and headache-free. One perk of being brainless, seems like. Though to tell the truth, I'm still on edge. Fighting for our lives… doubt I'll ever get used to it. But enough with the serious talk." I tapped him on the arm. "That Windseeker move was genius."
"Thanks. I was… a little worried I might hit you."
"As if you'd ever miss a shot," I stealthily wiped away my leftover sweat. "I know the escort said destroying the tree would destroy the dryad, but I never considered carrying Hand of Decay's, er, decay into it. How'd you know that'd work?"
"Um, I didn't?"
"…Say what?"
"Well, I thought it could work," he clarified. "Wind, it can't really be decayed, can it? It's air. It never dies."
"Not like animals and plants do. Usually wind just carries things, like diseases, or bad smells." I put a hand to my chin. "Let me guess: you thought your wind art could pick up something similarly nasty - the decay stemming from my art - and bring it along for the ride?"
"Yes, exactly! Gosh, when you put it like that, I feel like I should've been sure from the start!"
"You two!" called the escort. His business seemed finished, though I suspected the dryad was done for regardless of his acting as lumberjack. Walking toward us, he still held onto his axe.
"Ready your bow," I whispered. "Just in case."
I stood in front of Oliver, putting on an air of confidence. "Yeah?"
"…Your things are over there," he pointed a thumb behind him, where our backpack and half its contents still lied in the dirt. "Hurry and pick them up so we can move on. Getting sick of this place."
I turned as he walked past me, thrown. "Y-you're still gonna guide us? I thought you wanted to ditch us."
Or worse.
Carlyle folded his arms, continuing to the edge of the clearing. "By now we're only a couple days off. Might as well finish the journey."
I slouched, at a complete loss. This jerk is still trying to tag along? I should tell him to pick the opposite direction and go kick rocks that way. But… he did rescue Oliver. But he also put him in danger in the first place… But he did try and warn us… After basically telling us to shut up indefinitely… urgh, this is complicated.
"Well how about that?" Oliver smiled and walked after Carlyle. "Reckon he's more polite than you give him credit for, Skell."
"You're following him?" I asked.
"We got turned around in that fog. If anyone knows the way out of this swamp, its our escort."
Shade. He's right. And just when I'd built up the courage to tell him to get lost.
My sigh was heavy. "Fine. Let's just get out this dump. Even I'm starting to miss civilization, and they all wanna kill me."